Chapter VII: Act II

_A grass-grown yard, some rocks partly sunk in the ground. In the foreground, farthest to the right, a tent. In the background, to the left, the farm-house. In the outskirts of the yard a sheep-house with the roof and part of the walls in ruins. Beyond it, the "hraun," a lava-field stretching for miles, studded with jutting rocks and lava formations._

_It is evening of the same day._

_The Servants_ (_seated, singing_).

God the power unending
Rests with Thee alone.
Cherubim are bending,
Low before Thy throne.
From Thy Heaven hear me!
Weak and soiled am I,
Wounds and sorrows sear me,
Fainting I draw nigh.
Is there then another way?
Sorrow's rising hills may they
Not reach up to heaven, pray?
Help me-- lest I die.

(_They cover their eyes in prayer. Silence._)

_Jorunn (uncovers her eyes)._

The peace of God be with us.

(_The Servants rise and shake hands._)

_Jorunn_ (_patting Frida's cheek_). Now you must not be afraid of the earthquake any more. When we trust in Him, no harm can befall us. (_Gathers the hymn-books._) Please take the books back to the tent, Ljot; it's a little too early yet to go in. (_Ljot goes with the books._) And you may fetch the shoes I was sewing. I left them in there.

(_Some sit on the rocks, others squat in the grass. Only
Sveinungi remains standing._)

_Ljot (coming from the tent)._

Here are the shoes, mother.

_Jorunn._

Thank you, daughter.

(_Ljot lies down in the grass, gazing out over the "hraun."_)

_Indridi._

Did you hear the church-bells ringing?

_Einar._

I did not hear them.

_Jorunn._

I did. They rang of themselves.

(_Silence._)

_Indridi._

Where were you, Thora, when the shock came?

_Thora._

In the kitchen.

_Indridi._

It's your week, isn't it?

_Thora._

I don't know how I ever got out, for the whole floor heaved under me, so that I was thrown right against the wall, and you should have seen me when I came out-- all black from the falling soot.

_Jon._

And the rest of you-- where were you?

_Bjørg._

We were sitting in the _badstofa_, sorting wool.

_Rannveig._

It felt as if some one was shaking the roof and trying to pull up the whole house.

_Indridi._

We were just about to leave our work and run home to hear how you had fared, but then I thought they would be sure to send us word (_looking askance at Sveinungi_) if anything had happened. Besides, we wanted to get enough turf cut while we were at it so that we should not have to go back another time.

_Jon._

But I must say that when I began working again, it went against me. It was like cutting into a living thing-- like skinning a live animal.

_Rannveig._

Ugh, yes.

_Jon._

And the place where we'd cut turf last year looked like an ugly scar.

(_Silence._)

_Jorunn._

Did you meet anybody when you came home from work?

_Indridi._

No.

_Jorunn._

And no outsider has been here this afternoon. They don't come when they are wanted. I ought to have sent one of you to the next farm to find out how things were there, anyway.

_Jon._

I can easily go yet, if mistress wants me to.

_Jorunn._

Oh, no, it's getting late. I hope we shall have no bad tidings from any one.

_Indridi._

I hope so, too.

_Jon._

I'm afraid the Vik farm-house has fallen. It is both old and poorly built-- nothing like ours.

(_Silence._)

_Einar._

You should have seen the hawks, Jorunn, right after the shock. They kept flying back and forth, just as they do when they're warding off a foe from their nest.

_Jorunn._

They were frightened.

_Einar._

And no wonder. Great pieces of rock came tumbling down into the creek. The sheep out on the heath yonder huddled together in flocks, looking like old snow.

_Jon._

Then you were out hunting.

_Einar._

No, I was not hunting. I was looking at the hawks, wondering whether one could get at them by going down in a rope.

(_Silence._)

_Jorunn._

What about the boy, Sveinungi? Do you mean to let him stay with the sheep all night?

_Sveinungi._

Certainly. He can sleep to-morrow.

_Jorunn._

I was only thinking he might be afraid to be alone.

_Sveinungi._

He's no more afraid than grown people.

_Jorunn._

I saw he took both the dogs with him.

(_Silence._)

_Helgi._

There was a man walking across the _hraun_ a little while ago. Who can it be?

_Indridi._

I saw him too.

_Jon._

It was Sølvi. He carried his gun.

(_Silence._)

_Ljot._

How still it is on the _hraun_.

_Einar._

I thought you were listening for something, while you lay there quiet as a mouse. I thought you were listening for the earthquake.

_Frida._

Can one hear the earthquake when it is coming?

_Rannveig._

Are you afraid? Yes, sometimes it can be heard a little before the shock. They say it sounds like the clatter of hoofs from many hundred horses.

_Bjørg._

To me it sounded like the whistling of the wind.

_Jorunn._

You should sit down, Sveinungi. You'll get tired standing.

_Sveinungi._

I am not tired.

(_Silence._)

_Frida._

What if the earth should open up right here where we are sitting?

_Rannveig._

It won't. Who told you that it might?

_Frida._

Jakobina said so.

_Rannveig._

You must not listen to all she says; she talks so much.

_Jakobina._

I say nothing but what is true. At the time of the last great earthquake the ground cracked and made a fissure many miles long; I saw it myself. The earth opened her mouth to breathe.

_Einar (to Frida)._

Don't be afraid. I have a black lamb-- do you remember it?-- with white feet. When I get it home in the fall, I will give it to you.

_Jakobina_ (_facing the "hraun"_). Not one of you knows the _hraun_ as I do. Can you tell me why the hollows out there are never filled with snow? Have you ever seen the snow falling fast enough to cover even the rims around them? It's the earth blowing her breath against it. The earth sets traps for men; the earth is a man-eater.

_Jorunn (to Jakobina)._

You must not frighten the child.

(_Silence._)

_Sveinungi._

Wasn't it you, Jakobina, who said that sometimes blood comes on the window-panes? It bodes ill, they say.

_Jakobina._

Why do you ask? There is no one here who has seen it, is there?

_Sveinungi._

Never mind why I ask.

_Jakobina._

Well, if I must say it, it is a sign that some one in the house is going to die soon.

_Sveinungi._

Or it might bode ill to the farm itself, maybe.

_Jakobina._

What do you mean?

_Sveinungi._

That it might be doomed.

_Jorunn._

Indeed, it means neither the one nor the other. It's nothing but a silly old superstition.

_Sveinungi._

Not that I believe in it, but look at the windows. Don't they look as if they were wet with blood?

_Jorunn._

It's the sun shining on them.

_Sveinungi._

And see the gables, how white they are. They don't look whiter from the fields down yonder when you spread a cloth over them to call me home.

_Indridi (lowering his voice)._

Did you see the sheep-cot fall?

_Thora._

Yes, it happened just as we came out.

_Indridi._

What did Sveinungi say?

_Thora._

He said nothing.

_Indridi._

But he told us to move out here.

_Thora._

No, it was Jorunn who made us do it.

_Sveinungi (to Jorunn)._

I did not tell you that when I came into the _badstofa_, right after the shock, our old clock had stopped running.

_Jorunn._

Was it broken?

_Sveinungi._

No, when I touched the pendulum it started again, but the place was still as death when I entered. The grass on the roof cast a shadow over the skylight. It was as quiet as when my father lay dead.

_Jorunn._

I think we had better go and lie down. There's nothing gained by staying here any longer.

_Sveinungi._

I can't see that there was any need of moving out, but you had your way, Jorunn.

_Jorunn._

I feel sure that they have done the same on all the other farms. We must be thankful it is summer, so that we can stay outdoors.

_Sveinungi._

Must we be thankful? So you give thanks that my work is ruined.

_Jorunn._

We must take what comes, whether good or evil, and trouble may help us to remember all the things we have neglected to give thanks for.

_Sveinungi._

I don't know but that I have always done my duty. I have built all the sheep-cots; I have fenced in the land and looked after it as best I could. I demand justice of Him up there.

_Jorunn (rising)._

I won't listen to such talk. Did you buy the land from Him, perhaps? And what did you have to pay with that was not His already?

_Sveinungi._

You needn't mock me. You can walk all over the yard and cut your handful of grass with your scissors wherever you like; it grows thick as wool everywhere, and it's all my work.

_Jorunn._

Was it you who ruled the _hraun_ for thousands of years so that it did not swallow up the bit of ground you are standing on, which you call yours? [_Goes into the tent._

_Sveinungi._

Which I call mine! (_Stamping his foot._) It is mine! I've bought the land from Him up there with my work.

(_The Servants rise._)

_Jon._

I believe the worst is over and that we shall be let off with the fright.

_Indridi._

I hope so.

_Bjørg._

You can never tell. Remember what happened the time when more than three-score farm-houses fell in one night.

_Thora._

It must have been dreadful.

_Sveinungi._

Now you must all go into the tent.

[_The Servants go in._

_Jakobina._

I shouldn't wonder if something dreadful were to happen to the farm.
[_Goes into the tent._

(_Sveinungi stands quite still a little while, then walks
a few steps, pauses, takes a few more steps, and again stops._)

_Enter Ljot from the tent._

_Ljot._

Are you not coming, father? Mother told me to ask you to come in.

_Sveinungi._

Why doesn't she lie down? She need not wait for me.

_Ljot._

We are so frightened, father-- all of us.

_Enter Jorunn from the tent._

_Jorunn._

It's getting cold.

_Ljot._

Yes, it is cold.

_Jorunn._

The sun has set.

_Sveinungi._

Why are you coming out again, Jorunn? Can't you sleep?

_Jorunn._

No, I can't sleep.

_Sveinungi._

Do you remember the night you thought I was lost in the snowstorm? A light was burning in the upper window. To see it was better than meeting a human being, and when the dogs began to bark behind the door, it was just as if the house itself were speaking-- calling out its joy. It sounded better to me than a human voice, and when I stepped into the hall, the darkness seemed to put its arms around me. Never have I had so sweet a welcome, not even when my daughter was a little child.

_Jorunn._

Ought we not to go in, Sveinungi? It's getting late. You too must go in now, Ljot.

_Ljot._

I am only waiting for father.

_Jorunn._

Do you hear that, Sveinungi? Ljot is waiting for you, and the servants can't sleep either before you go in.

_Sveinungi._

I am not going to stay in the tent to-night. I am going home.

_Jorunn._

You don't mean that!

_Ljot._

But, father dear!

_Sveinungi._

I won't let any foolish fear drive me out of my house, and it is nothing but a foolish fear. The earthquake will not come so suddenly but that I shall have time to get out. It's impossible. Besides, the _badstofa_ will hold. It's well built, though it's old.

_Jorunn._

Do you think the _badstofa_ will hold if there should come a big earthquake? You cannot mean that!

_Sveinungi._

It is not at all sure there will be another shock. It's only a fancy that the earthquake must needs keep on once it has begun. I believe it is over; I feel it. (_During the last speeches the Servants have been coming out of the tent._) What are you running out for? Go in, all of you.

_Jakobina._

I must tell master about the dream I had. It was last night. I thought I was standing out in the yard and saw a giant coming across the _hraun_. He walked with long, unsteady strides (_she takes a few steps forward; her voice sounds distant and threatening_), and seemed to grope as if he were blind. Then I saw him standing right by the house-- with arms stretched out; he bent down over the farm and stood there like a stone cross. (_Makes the sign of the cross with her arms._)

_Sveinungi._

Did I ask you to tell me about your dream?

_Jorunn._

I beg of you, Sveinungi, that you do not stay at the house to-night. It would be tempting God.

_Sveinungi._

It's rather He who is tempting me. If I ran away, it would serve me right to have the house fall down. (_Pointing to the house._) There it has stood waiting for me every evening as far back as I can remember. I have seen the windows flaming in the sun. I have seen them wet with rain. I have seen them white with frost. I've been with it ever since I was a child. I have climbed on the roof as I climbed on my father's shoulders. When I stood on the ridge, it seemed it had lifted me up to let me see better. No, Jorunn, even if I knew the earthquake to be coming, I should go home. Nor is it any wonder that I long to get into my own bed. I am old now, and I have waked up there almost every morning of my life. I have gone to bed so tired and worn that I could barely stand on my feet and have waked up young and strong. I have been ill and have lain there watching the sunbeams flitting across the floor. [_Sveinungi walks homeward._

_Jorunn._

Are you going home? (_Following him hurriedly._) Whatever happens, your fate shall be mine.

_Sveinungi (stops and looks back)._

Do you hear that? She is not afraid, my wife.

[_Sveinungi and Jorunn walk homeward._

_Ljot._

How can you do it, father? (_Walks a few steps away from the others and remains standing there._)

_Jakobina._

God be with you, Jorunn, and with you, Sveinungi. You have been good to me, these nineteen years. [_Goes into the tent._

(_Silence._)

_Helgi._

There, they went in.

_Bjørg._

Yes, they are in there now.

_Jon._

I think we had better go and lie down, since there is nothing we can do.

_Indridi._

No, we can do nothing.

_Thora._

It will be a long night.

_Rannveig._

Poor Ljot!

[_The Servants walk slowly into the tent._

(_Einar and Ljot remain. Silence._)

_Einar (goes to Ljot)._

I wish I could make you happy as easily now as when you were a little girl.

_Ljot (struggling with her tears)._

Father does not care for me at all. He does not think of me for a moment.

_Einar._

Your father cares for you, no doubt of that, but he is beside himself with the earthquake.

_Ljot._

You don't know what I am talking about. (_In sudden fear._) If only something dreadful does not happen!

_Einar._

We must trust to the Lord to keep us all. Won't you too try to lie down?

_Ljot._

I can't sleep.

_Einar._

Perhaps you would rather stay here a little while. Let me bring a shawl for you; it is getting cold. [_Goes into the tent._

(_Ljot stands motionless looking out over the "hraun."_)

_Einar (coming from the tent)._

They are asleep in there already. Won't you put the shawl around your shoulders?

_Ljot._

I am not cold.

_Einar._

Then I'll spread it over one of the rocks for you to sit on. They are wet with dew. (_Spreads it over the stone._) There! What did you have in mind when you stood there looking out over the _hraun_?

_Ljot._

I was thinking of an old tale Jakobina once told me. It was about a young girl. She went out on the _hraun_ with bare feet to meet her sweetheart, and wherever she stepped the moss grew under her foot.

_Einar._

That's a pretty story. I can tell you one too, if you care to hear it. It might help to quiet you a little.

_Ljot (takes his hand)._

You are so good.

_Einar (sits down; relates)._

In olden times, they say, there was an underground stream that ran straight through the country from south to north and was meant as a sign of truce between land and sea. It happened that a cross-eyed, ill-natured shark was trying to tempt a young whale to swim that stream from end to end. The whale's name was Spray-tail. He was the handsomest of all the young whales and could shoot three jets of water at once. The shark boasted that he had swum through the stream himself, but of course it was only real fishes that could do it. Spray-tail felt stung on behalf of his kin, and as the shark had told him that there were openings here and there in the roof of this underground way, he made up his mind to try his luck, trusting that he could hold his breath from one opening to another. But it fell out otherwise. Spray-tail never came back. The last ever heard of him was that some swans, in their flight over the hills, had seen a jet of blood spurting out of the ground.

The whales were in a rage and, as they thought in their grief that the land had broken truce, they goaded the sea to wreak vengeance upon it. Are you listening?

(_Ljot nods her head._)

One night a dreadful storm broke. The sea came rushing in over the land, fell upon the rocks like a monster, and tore them to pieces. The next morning thousands of sea fowls' nests were wrecked, and where green fields had been there were black sands. Now there was sore need of wise counsel. A shrewd old raven said that the fire should be roused. All the birds agreed that the raven had spoken well, but none dared do the deed. The raven was made judge, and decided that the spider should undertake the ticklish task, and that the eagle should carry her to the crater.

They gave the spider ten fat blue-flies to take with her. She spun herself well and firmly under some strong feathers, and off they went. They flew over deep dales, over dreary wastes, and over glaciers. In the evening they came to the fire-mountain, and there they rested overnight, but they did not sleep much, for the fire was snoring like a giant down below in the earth. Early the next morning the eagle flew to the top of the mountain. The spider made fast her thread and spun herself slowly down into the crater. It was dark down there, and the heat and sulphur made her eyes smart, but she could see enough to make out that the fire lay sleeping under a very thin black coverlet. The spider knew nothing but the finger-language, and she moved her legs incessantly, telling fully and truly all about the havoc that was wrought, and urging the fire to come to the rescue lest the whole land be swallowed up by the sea. Yet the fire did not stir. Then the spider bent her legs up under her and let herself fall all the way down to the fire. She stretched out one leg and poked the black coverlet. From that moment she couldn't remember anything till she was lying at the rim of the crater again. She peeped down and saw that the fire had thrown off the coverlet and was red and blazing. Then the spider understood that her task was done. Everybody knows how the fire had its reckoning with the sea and filled up whole fjords with lava and ashes.

(_Sølvi is seen approaching from the "hraun."_)

_Ljot (rising)._

You must tell me that story over again some time. I could not listen rightly.

_Einar (rising)._

Who is that coming so late? (_Looking._) Now I know him; it's Sølvi.

_Ljot._

I saw him a while ago walking over the _hraun_.

_Einar._

He may bring us news.

_Enter Sølvi carrying a gun and with a game-bag on his back._

_Sølvi._

Good evening.

_Einar._

Good evening.

_Sølvi._

How good it seems to meet people! You have moved out, of course?

_Einar._

You are walking late.

_Sølvi._

You will have to take the earthquake as my excuse. This has been a bad day. What has happened here at your place?

_Einar._

One of the outbuildings came down and a part of the yard-fence.

_Sølvi._

At Hol one wall of the house fell. The folks barely got out. (_Lays down his gun._)

_Einar._

Was anybody hurt?

_Sølvi._

No. I could not stay there any longer. I saw your house standing, and that was a relief. (_Looking at Ljot._) Yet I had to come.

_Einar._

What do you think? Do you believe the earthquake is over?

(_Sølvi fails to answer; looks at Ljot._)

_Ljot._

My father and mother are sleeping in the house.

_Sølvi._

Why in the world are they doing that!

_Ljot._

We were ready to go to bed, but father would not come into the tent. Mother begged him to stay, but it was no use, and when father went back to the house, mother went with him.

_Sølvi._

But the buildings may fall at any moment if there should be another shock.

_Einar._

Sveinungi knows that as well as we do, but he would not let the house stand forsaken.

_Sølvi._

We must hope that no harm will come to them. So that is why you are still up. Have the others been in bed long?

_Ljot._

No, they went in a little while ago.

_Einar._

May I look at your gun?

_Sølvi._

As much as you like.

_Einar._

Is it loaded?

_Sølvi._

It is. (_To Ljot._) You are not angry with me for coming so late? It seemed an eternity till Sunday.

_Ljot._

I knew you would come.

_Sølvi._

You knew it! Won't you sit down? I have something to show you. (_Ljot sits down. Sølvi opens the game-bag; takes from it a large fern._) I found this out on the _hraun_. Is it not beautiful? (_Sits down._) Look, the stem is no thicker than a hair, while the leaf can easily hide your whole face. (_Holds it up before her face._) It trembles when your breath touches it.

_Ljot._

You have pulled it up by the roots. May I have the moss that came with it? (_Sølvi loosens the moss from the roots. Ljot lays it in her hand; smiles._) When it withers, I'll keep it in my shoes.

_Sølvi._

Will you keep it in your shoes? See these two small ferns on one root. They look like two slim hands. (_Looks at Ljot._)

_Einar (puts the gun aside)._

It's a fine one. It must have cost a good deal. Perhaps you bought it yourself abroad?

_Sølvi._

I did. (_Lays down the fern. To Ljot._) If you have time, you can plant it to-morrow. It won't hurt it to lie overnight in the wet grass.

_Einar (goes to Sølvi)._

How long were you abroad?

_Sølvi._

Seven years.

_Einar._

That's a long time. (_Sits down._)

_Ljot._

My father was angry with me for keeping your bird's skin.

_Sølvi._

Was he? And I was thinking of asking you to visit me at Hol some time before I leave.

_Ljot._

I hardly think I dare to.

_Sølvi._

You could take Einar with you. It is not much more than an hour's ride, and I have a number of things I should like to show you,-- petrified tree-trunks that I have dug out of the earth, in which you can see plainly every bud and shoot, and stone slabs with impressions of flowers and leaves that lived thousands of years ago. Should you like to see them?

_Ljot._

I should like it ever so much.

_Sølvi._

I have some rocks, too, baked by fire and furrowed by ice. If you knew all the tales they tell me! They lay bare to me things that are hidden from every one else.

(_A whirring of wings is heard far away._)

_Einar (stands up, pointing with his finger)._

Look, there is a flock of ducks flying over the _hraun_. (_Stands gazing._)

_Sølvi (in a low voice)._

It made me so happy to see you. This evening, when the sun was setting, I reached out toward it. I did the same when I saw you.

_Einar._

They're flying unusually low. There they alight-- I'll get my gun.

_Sølvi (rising)._

I'll lend you mine. (_Hands him the gun._) It will carry a distance of a hundred and thirty feet.

_Einar._

What size shot have you?

_Sølvi._

Duck-shot.

_Einar._

Ljot, you don't mind, do you? I shall not be gone long. If they rise, I'm not going after them. [_Exit._

(_Ljot rises._)

_Sølvi (goes to her)._

My star must be in the heavens to-night.

_Ljot._

You must not think that I was sitting up so late because I was waiting for you-- I saw you walking over the _hraun_-- but we shan't talk about that.

_Sølvi._

Shall I tell you why I came home from abroad? It was for your sake.

_Ljot (sits down)._

That is not true.

_Sølvi (sits down)._

One night, the last winter I was away, I must have been dreaming, but it seemed to me that I was awake. I had come back home and was walking on the _hraun_. The _hraun_ was covered with ashes. As I walked, I suddenly fell into a deep cleft and kept on falling and falling. At last I found myself lying on the bottom, unable to stir. Death came and sucked the life out of my eyes and held it in her hand like a tiny flame. Suddenly a woman stood beside me dressed in moss. She pleaded for me so long that death gave her my life. She looked like you. It was you. Don't you know that you hold my life in your hands?

(_They rise._)

_Ljot._

I think I shall go in. It is hard to tell when Einar will be back. When he is out hunting he forgets everything.

_Sølvi._

I love you, Ljot! You have not been out of my thoughts since the first time I saw you. Everything reminds me of you-- the sun, the sky--

_Ljot._

I too have been happy in seeing you and talking with you. (_Stands still as death._) This morning, right after you had gone, my father told me that on his way home from town he had seen his old friend,-- and my father wanted me to promise myself to the son of his old friend, but I would not, because I was thinking of you. Then my mother came and talked to me-- and I gave in. I could not do anything else.

_Sølvi._

Why did I not speak before! You won't feel hurt at what I say, Ljot? You must not let your parents decide your life. That is for you to do.

_Ljot._

You don't know my father. If he thought I was standing here talking to you, I can't tell what he would do.

_Sølvi._

I am convinced your parents have but one wish, and that is for your happiness.

_Ljot._

I don't know. My mother does not say much about happiness; she does her duty-- and I know mine. (_Turns toward the tent._)

_Sølvi._

Are you going?

_Ljot._

It is better that we two should not meet again-- it would only cause us suffering. (_Moves away._)

_Sølvi (following her)._

You don't realize what you are about to do! You will be committing a terrible crime-- against all the wonderful days that life meant us two to have together. For you do care for me, Ljot, don't you? (_Ljot is silent._) I thought you cared for me. When you spoke to me this morning you blushed, and I thought it was your heart that gave me its promise. The joy of it overwhelmed me.

_Ljot._

It matters little whom I care for. I have given my word.

_Sølvi._

You think it is your duty to keep your word, but there is another duty that is far greater, and that is to open your arms to happiness when it comes. There is no greater duty. It is the meaning of our existence. You must feel that, you who have grown like a flower out of the earth!

_Ljot._

It is not only that I have given my word. If I had neither father nor mother, I should break my promise, but I know that it would grieve my parents. This morning father said to me that it was the happiest day of his life since he got my mother, and I know it was true.

_Sølvi._

You must tell your parents that you cannot keep your word. You must do it for my sake. (_Kneeling._) You are the only one I care for in all the world.

_Ljot._

I can't deal such a blow to my father. No other living being has been so good to me as my father.

_Sølvi (rising)._

You do not care for me at all.

_Ljot._

You think it is easy for me! (_With tears in her eyes._) I own a spring-- I cleanse it every Saturday. I have told it your name. (_Goes to the tent._)

_Sølvi._

You are going! (_Turns away from Ljot, sits down on one of the rocks, covers his face._)

_Ljot (stands silent for a long time, then goes over to him and takes his hands from his face)._

I love you.

(_Sølvi takes her face between his hands and kisses her._)

_Enter Jakobina._

_Jakobina (coming slowly from the tent)._

We are not all asleep in there.

(_Sølvi and Ljot rise._)

_Sølvi (holding Ljot by the hand)._

Let us go out on the _hraun_ and look for Einar.

_Ljot_ (_runs to Jakobina, puts her arms around Jakobina's neck and holds her close_). I know that you care for me. (_Goes to Sølvi and takes his hand._) Come!

[_They go toward the "hraun."_

(_Jakobina stands still, following them with her eyes, then
shakes her head and turns toward the tent._)