"Very much, if we had any chance of seeing him. Very much, whether 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."
"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."
It may be supposed that Erlingsen was anxious to be at home when he had heard Erica's story. He was not to be detained by any promise of berries and cream for supper. He put away the thought even of his hay, yet unfinished on the upland, and would hear nothing that Frolich had to say of his fatigue at the end of a long working day. He took some provision with him, drank off a glass of corn-brandy, and set off at a good pace down the mountain.
Scarcely a word was spoken (though the mountain-dairies have the reputation of being the merriest places in the world), till Erica and Frolich were about their cheese-making the next morning. Erica had rather have kept the cattle; but Frolich so earnestly begged that she would let Stiorna do that, as she could not destroy the cattle in her ill-humour, while she might easily spoil the cheese, that Erica put away her knitting, tied on her apron, tucked up her sleeves, and prepared for the great work.
"Frolich," said Erica, "is the cream good?"
"Stiorna would say that the demon will smack his lips over it. Come and taste."
"What are you saying about me?" inquired Stiorna, appearing at the door. "Only talking about the cream and the cheese? Are you sure of that? Bless me! what a smell of the yellow flowers! It will be a prime cheese."
"How can you leave the cattle, Stiorna?" cried Erica. "If they are all gone when you get back----"