She paused, though, by the last trees.
"And when shall we meet again?" whispered she.
"To-morrow, to-morrow!" he whispered in return.
"Yes; to-morrow."
"Good-by," and she ran on.
"Marit!" She stopped. "Say, was it not strange that we met first on
the cliff?"
"Yes, it was." She ran on again.
Oyvind gazed long after her. The dog ran on before her, barking; Marit
followed, quieting him. Oyvind turned, took off his cap and tossed it
into the air, caught it, and threw it up again.
"Now I really think I am beginning to be happy," said the boy, and went
singing homeward.
CHAPTER X.
One afternoon later in the summer, as his mother and a girl were raking
hay, while Oyvind and his father were carrying it in, there came a
little barefooted and bareheaded boy, skipping down the hill-side and
across the meadows to Oyvind, and gave him a note.
"You run well, my boy," said Oyvind.
"I am paid for it," answered the boy.
On being asked if he was to have an answer, the reply was No; and the
boy took his way home over the cliff, for some one was coming after him
up on the road, he said. Oyvind opened the note with some difficulty,
for it was folded in a strip, then tied in a knot, then sealed and
stamped; and the note ran thus:--
"He is now on the march; but he moves slowly. Run into the woods
and hide yourself! THE ONE YOU KNOW.
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