I'll soon get rid
of him.' He said that yesterday."
"It doesn't matter; let him threaten..." And with closed eyes she
throws her arms about my neck. A quiver passes through her. The horse
stands waiting.
XXVIII
I sit up in the hills, mining. The autumn air is crystal about me. The
strokes of my drill ring steady and even. Asop looks at me with
wondering eyes. Wave after wave of content swells through my breast. No
one knows that I am here among the lonely hills.
The birds of passage have gone; a happy journey and welcome back again!
Titmouse and blackcap and a hedge-sparrow or so live now alone in the
bush and undergrowth: tuitui! All is so curiously changed--the dwarf
birch bleeds redly against the grey stones, a harebell here and there
shows among the heather, swaying and whispering a little song: sh! But
high above all hovers an eagle with outstretched neck, on his way to the
inland ridges.
And the evening comes; I lay my drill and my hammer in under the rock
and stop to rest. All things are glooming now. The moon glides up in the
north; the rocks cast gigantic shadows. The moon is full; it looks like
a glowing island, like a round riddle of brass that I pass by and wonder
at. Asop gets up and is restless.
"What is it, Asop? As for me, I am tired of my sorrow; I will forget it,
drown it.
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