"All the land is pleasant to-day."
They left the farm and its boundaries. A few men were at work on one of
Gueldmar's fields, and these looked up,--half in awe, half in fear,--as
Thelma and her fantastic servitor passed along.
"'Tis a fine wench!" said one man, resting on his spade, and following
with his eyes the erect, graceful figure of his employer's daughter.
"Maybe, maybe!" said another gruffly; "but a fine wench is a snare of
the devil! Do ye mind what Lovisa Elsland told us?"
"Ay, ay," answered the first speaker, "Lovisa knows,--Lovisa is the
wisest woman we have in these parts--that's true! The girl's a witch,
for sure!"
And they resumed their work in gloomy silence. Not one of them would
have willingly labored on Olaf Gueldmar's land, had not the wages he
offered been above the usual rate of hire,--and times were bad in
Norway. But otherwise, the superstitious fear of him was so great that
his fields might have gone untilled and his crops ungathered,--however,
as matters stood, none of them could deny that he was a good paymaster,
and just in his dealings with those whom he employed.
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