Litchfield enquirer., 1875-04-08

suddenly he leaped up, and wild thought burned in hls breast. But with an effort he checked himself, grasped his violin, and struck wailing chord of lament. Then he laid his ear close to the instru- ment. as if he were listening to some liv- ing voice hidden there within, ran warily with the bow over the strings, and warb- led, and caroled, and sang with madden ing glee, and still with shivering under current of woe. And the dusk which slept upon the black rafters was quickened and shook with the weird sound; every pulse Tn the wide hall beat more rapidly, and l every eye was kindled with bolder fire. Presently strong male voice sang out to the measure of the violin: Come, fairest maid. tread the dance with me; O neigh ho!"
 And 8 clear, tremulous treble answered: ''so gladly tread I the dance with thee;
 0 neigh ho!"
 Truls knew the voices only too we'll; it was Syvert Stein and Borghild who were singing 8 ster.
 Syuert-Like brier-roses thy red cheeks blush, / Borghild-And thine are rough like the thorny
 bash;
 Both-An' heigho!
 SyUert-So fresh and green is the sunny les;
 neigh ho!
 Borshid-The fiddle twangeth so mer1ily;
 O neigh ho! Syuert-So lightly goeth the lusty reel Borgh3ld-And round we whirl like a spinning I...0 wheel;
 Both An heigho
 Syuert-Thine eyes are brightlike the sunny fjord;
 o neigh ho!
 Borghild-And thine do flash like Vikings
 sword;
 O neigh ho!
 Sycert-So lightly trippeth thy foot along, Borghild-The air is teeming with joyful fong;
 Both--An' neigh ho!
 Syrer-Then, fairest maid while the woods are green,
 O neigh ho
 Borghild-And thrushes sing the freshleaves be-
 tween;
 O neigh ho!
 SyUert-Come, let us dance in the gladstone day; hild-Dance hate, and sorrow, and care away;
 Both--An' a high hoI
 The stev was at an end. The hot and flushed dancers struggled over the floor by twos and threes, and the big beer-horns were passed from hand to hand TruIs sat in his corner, hugging his violin tight ly to his bosom, only to do something. for he was vaguely afraid of himself afraid of the thoughts that might rise afraid of the deed they might prompt. He ran his fingers over his forehead, but he hardly felt the touch of his own hand. 1t was as if something was dead within hlm-as if string had snapped in his breast, and left it benumbed and voice. less.
 Presently he looked up and saw Borg hlld standing before him, she held her arms akimbo, her eyes shone with strange light, and her features wore an air of recklessness mingled with pity.
 "Ah, Borghild, IS it you?" sad he. in a meS n"s thought you had done with me ssYou are very unwity fellow, "t answer ed she, with forced laugh. ''The branch that does not bend must break"
 She turned quickly on her heel and was lost in the crowd. He sat long pondering. on her words, but their meaning remained hidden to him. The branch that does not bend must break. Was he the branch, and must he bend or break? By and by he put his hands on his knees, rose with 8 slow, uncertain motion, and stalked heav- fly toward the door. The fresh night air would do him good. The thought breathes more briskly in Gods free nature, under the broad canopy of heaven. The white mist rose from the fields, and made the valley below appear like white sea whose nearness you feel, even though you do not see it. And out of the mist the dark pines stretched their warning hands against the sky and the moon was swimming, large and placid, between silvery islands of cloud Truls began to beat his arms against his sides. and felt the warm blood spreading from his heart and thawing the numbness of his limbs. Not caring whith- CT he went, he struck the path leading up- ward to the mountains. He took to hum- ming an old air which happened to come into his head only to try if there was life enough left in him to sing. It was the ballad of Young Kristen and the Norman: 1.-The pillows fall and the pillows swell,
 In the night so iona,
 In the pillows blue doth the merman dwell
 And strangely her harp was soundin.''
 He walked on briskly for while, and, looking back upon the pain he had en- dured but 8 moment ago, he found it quite foolish and irrational An absurd merriment took possession of him; but all the while he did not know where his foot stepped; his head swan, and his pulse beat feverishly. About midway between the forest and the mansion, where the field sloped more steeply, grew clump of birch-trees, whose slender stems glimmer- ed ghostly white in the moonlight. Some thing drove Truls to leave the beaten road, and, obeying the impulse, he steer ed toward the birches. A strange sound fell upon his ear, like the moan of one in distress. It did not startle him; indeed, he was in mood when nothing could have caused him wonder. If the sky had suddenly tumbled down upon him, with moon and all, he would have taken it as matter of course. Peering for moment through the mist, he discerned the out line of 8 human figure. With three great strides he reached the birch-tree; at his feet sat Borghild rocking herself to and fro and weeping piteously. Without Q word he seated himself at her side and tried to catch glimpse of her face; but she hid it from him and went on sobbing. Still, there could be no doubt that it was Borghild-one hour ago, so merry, reck- less, and defiant, now covering at his feet and weeping like broken-hearted child.
 ''Borghid," he said, at last, putting his arm gently about her waist, 'syou and l, think, played together when we were Culu10us
 ''So we did. Truls, answered she, ,strug- gling with her tears. E,aa =
 ''And as we grew up, we spent many a pleasant hour with each other.''' ...-
 ''Many pleasant hour"
 She raised her head, and he drew her more closely to him. f -er 2
 'sBut since then have done you great wrong, Truls," began she, after while.
 Nothing done that cannot yet be un- done" he took heart to answer. a, . It was long before her thoughts took shape, and, when at length they d1d, she dared not give them utterance. Never theless, she was all the time conscious of one strong desire, from which her con- science shrank as from crime; and she wrestled Intellectually with her weakness until her weakness prevailed.
 "I am glad you came, she faltered. ''I knew you would come. There was some. thing wished to say to you"
 "And what was it, Borghild?"
 Al l. T- A f