Eating and drinking went on merrily, combined with gossiping and running from house to house.

The children sat up in bed, blinking at the sunlight, and stuffing themselves with sausages, still half in doubt whether it was real tangible sausage they were eating, or whether it was not one of those lovely dreams which sometimes visit the hungry.
The sun was shining over the bay of Sandsgaard, where the new ship now lay securely moored with hawsers both ahead and astern.

The sounds of activity from West End could be heard far out into the fjord.
In Begmand's cottage Marianne lay raving in delirium, and the neighbour who attended her said she had the fever.

Anders, who had burnt himself on the side of the face at the fire, was sitting with her, a handkerchief tied round his head.
The townspeople managed to get home by degrees.

Some pretended that they did not see the sun, and went to bed.