ping wound
from the blow of the axe."

"The big, red, gaping wound from the blow of the axe?"

"Is it I who perhaps have struck it? Why shall I see it?"

"The saints only know, Tord," said Berg Rese, pale and with
terrible earnestness, "what it means that you see a wound from an
axe. I killed the monk with a couple of knife-thrusts."

Tord stood trembling before Berg and wrung his hands. "They demand
you of me! They want to force me to betray you!"

"Who? The monks?"

"They, yes, the monks. They show me visions. They show me her, Unn.
They show me the shining, sunny sea. They show me the fishermen's
camping-ground, where there is dancing and merrymaking. I close my
eyes, but still I see. 'Leave me in peace,' I say. 'My friend has
murdered, but he is not bad. Let me be, and I will talk to him, so
that he repents and atones. He shall confess his sin and go to
Christ's grave. We will both go together to the places which are so
holy that all sin is taken away from him who draws near them.'"

"What do the monks answer?" asked Berg. "They want to have me
saved. They want to have me on the rack and wheel."

"Shall I betray my dearest friend, I ask them," continued Tord. "He
is my world. He has saved me from the bear that had his paw on my
throat. We have been cold together and suffered every want
together. He has spread his bear-skin over me when I was sick. I
have carried wood and water for him; I have watched over him while
he slept; I have fooled his enemies. Why do they think that I am
one who will betray a friend? My friend will soon of his own accord
go to the priest and confess, then we will go together to the land
of atonement."

Berg listened earnestly, his eyes sharply searching Tord's face.
"You shall go to the priest and tell him the truth," he said. "You
need to be among people."

"Does that help me if I go alone? For your sin, Death and all his
spectres follow me. Do you not see how I shudder at you? You have
lifted your hand against God himself. No crime is like yours. I
think that I must rejoice when I see you on rack and wheel. It is
well for him who can receive his punishment in this world and
escapes the wrath to come. Why did you tell me of the just God? You
compel me to betray you. Save me from that sin. Go to the priest."
And he fell on his knees before Berg.

The murderer laid his hand on his head and looked at him. He was
measuring his sin against his friend's anguish, and it grew big and