ess, and thereby cause them misfortune.

"We must put an end to it," said Toenne.

Jofrid laughed dismally. "What do you wish to do? God has sent this
to us. Could He not have kept the child alive if He had chosen? He
did not wish it, and now He persecutes us for its death. Tell me by
what right He persecutes us?"

She got her words from the old stone warrior, who sat dark and high
on his pile. It seemed as if he suggested to her everything she
answered Toenne.

"We must acknowledge that we have neglected the child, and do
penance," said Toenne.

"Never will I suffer for what is not my fault," said Jofrid. "Who
wanted the child to die? Not I, not I. What kind of a penance will
you do? You need all your strength for work."

"I have already tried with scourging," said Toenne. "It is of no avail."

"You see," she said, and laughed again.

"We must try something else," Toenne went on with persistent
determination. "We must confess."

"What do you want to tell God, that He does not know?" mocked
Jofrid. "Does He not guide your thoughts, Toenne? What will you tell
Him?" She thought that Toenne was stupid and obstinate. She had
found him so in the beginning of their acquaintance, but since then
she had not thought of it, but had loved him for his good heart.

"We will confess to the father, Jofrid, and offer him compensation."

"What will you offer him?" she asked.

"The house and the goats."

"He will certainly demand an enormous compensation for his only
son. All that we possess would not be enough."

"We will give ourselves as slaves into his power, if he is not
content with less."

At these words Jofrid was seized by cold despair, and she hated
Toenne from the depths of her soul. Everything she would lose
appeared so plainly to her,--freedom, for which her ancestors had
ventured their lives, the house, her comforts, honor and happiness.

"Mark my words, Toenne," she said hoarsely, half choked with pain,
"that the day you do that thing will be the day of my death."

After that no more words were exchanged between them, but they
remained sitting on the doorstep until the day came. Neither found
a word to appease or to conciliate; each felt fear and scorn of the
other. The one measured the other by the standard of his own anger,
and they found each other narrow-minded and bad-tempered.

After that night Jofrid could not refrain from letting Toenne feel
that he was her inferior. She let him understand in