ther we
see him or not, if he can give any help,--any advice... My poor Erica,
I do not like to ask, but you have had no good news, I fear."

Erica shook her head.

"I saw that in your face, in a moment. Do not speak about it till you
tell my father; he may help you--I cannot; so do not tell me anything."

Erica was glad to take her at her word. She kissed Frolich's hand,
which lay on her knee, in token of thanks, and then inquired whether any
Gammel cheese was made yet.

"No," said Frolich, inwardly sighing for news. "We have the whey, but
not sweet cream enough till after this evening's milking; so you are
just in time."

Erica was glad, as she could not otherwise have been sure of the demon
having his due.

"There is your father," said Erica. "Now do go and gather more berries,
Frolich; there are not half enough, and you cannot be afraid of the
pirate, with your father within call. Now do go."

"You want me not to hear what you have to tell my father," said Frolich,
unwilling to depart.

"That is very true. I shall tell him nothing till you are out of
hearing; he can repeat to you what he pleases afterwards, and he will
indulge you all the more for your giving him a good supper."

"So he will, and I will fill his cup myself," observed Frolich. "He
says the corn-brandy is uncommonly good, and I will fill his cup till it
will not hold another drop."

"You will not reach his heart that way, Frolich. He knows to a drop
what his quantity is, and there he stops."

"I know where there are some manyberries [Note 2] ripe," said Frolich,
"and he likes them above all berries. They lie this way, at the edge of
the swamp, where the pirate will never think of coming."

And off she went, as Erica rose from the grass to curtsey to Erlingsen
on his approach.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. It is a popular belief in Norway that there is a race of
fairies or magicians living underground, who are very covetous of
cattle; and that, to gratify their taste for large herds and flocks,
they help themselves with such as graze on the mountains; making dwarfs
of them to enable them to enter crevices of the ground, in order to
descend to the subterranean pastures. This practice may be defeated, as
the Norwegian herdsman believes, by keeping his eye constantly on the
cattle.

A certain Bishop of Tronyem lost his cattle by the herdsmen having
looked away from them,