onday, and as every one knew that he and his
brother were bitter enemies, information was given and a suit
instituted.

No one could prove anything against Baard, but suspicion rested on him.
Less than ever, now, did he feel able to approach his brother.

Anders had thought of Baard when the barn was burned, but had spoken of
it to no one. When he saw him enter his room, the following evening,
pale and excited, he immediately thought: "Now he is smitten with
remorse, but for such a terrible crime against his brother he shall
have no forgiveness." Afterwards he heard how people had seen Baard go
down to the barn the evening of the fire, and, although nothing was
brought to light at the trial, Anders firmly believed his brother to be
guilty.

They met at the trial; Baard in his good clothes, Anders in his patched
ones. Baard looked at his brother as he entered, and his eyes wore so
piteous an expression of entreaty that Anders felt it in the inmost
depths of his heart. "He does not want me to say anything," thought
Anders, and when he was asked if he suspected his brother of the deed,
he said loudly and decidedly, "No!"

Anders took to hard drinking from that day, and was soon far on the
road to ruin. Still worse was it with Baard; although he did not
drink, he was scarcely to be recognized by those who had known him
before.

Late one evening a poor woman entered the little room Baard rented, and
begged him to accompany her a short distance. He knew her: it was his
brother's wife. Baard understood forthwith what her errand was; he
grew deathly pale, dressed himself, and went with her without a word.
There was a glimmer of light from Anders' window, it twinkled and
disappeared, and they were guided by this light, for there was no path
across the snow. When Baard stood once more in the passage, a strange
odor met him which made him feel ill. They entered. A little child
stood by the fireplace eating charcoal; its whole face was black, but
as it looked up and laughed it displayed white teeth,--it was the
brother's child.

There on the bed, with a heap of clothes thrown over him, lay Anders,
emaciated, with smooth, high forehead, and with his hollow eyes fixed
on his brother. Baard's knees trembled; he sat down at the foot of the
bed and burst into a violent fit of weeping. The sick man looked at
him intently and said nothing. At length he asked his wife to go out,
but Baard made a sign to her to remain;