midnight
The glaciers glittered , the rivers swelled , the buds of the forest burst , and great white sails began to glimmer on the far western horizon . If Truls , the Nameless , as scoffers were wont to call him , had been a greater personage in the valley , it would , no doubt , have shocked the gossips to know that one fine morning he sold his cow , his gun and his dog , and wrapped sixty silver dollars in a leathern bag , which he sewed fast to the girdle he wore about his waist . That same night some one was heard playing wildly up in the birch copse above the Skogli mansion ; now it sounded like a wail of distress , then like a fierce , defiant laugh , and now again the music seemed to hush itself into a heart-broken , sorrowful moan , and the people crossed themselves , and whispered : `` Our Father ; '' but Borghild sat at her gable window and listened long to the weird strain . The midnight came , but she stirred not . With the hour of midnight the music ceased . From the windows of hall and kitchen the light streamed out into the damp air , and the darkness stood like a wall on either side ; within , maids and lads were busy brewing , baking , and washing , for in a week there was to be a wedding on the farm . The week went and the wedding came .