der the man's gaze, gradually became quieter in her mind,
and in a little while she began to cry softly. She was touched by
his sitting there and protecting her against herself.

As soon as the man saw that Brita was weeping, he rose and went
toward the door. When he was on the doorstep, he turned and again
looked straight into her eyes, and said in a deep voice: "Do
thyself no harm, for the time is nearing when thou shalt live in
righteousness."

Then he went his way. She could hear his heavy footsteps as he
walked, down the road. Brita ran into the little room, took down
the rope, and carried the stepladder back into the shop. Then she
dropped down on a box, where she sat quietly musing for two full
hours. She felt, somehow, that for a long time she had wandered in
a darkness so thick that she could not see her hand before her. She
had lost her way and knew not whither she had strayed, and with
every step she had been afraid of sinking into a quagmire or
stumbling headlong into an abyss. Now some one had called to her
not to go any farther, but to sit down and wait for the break of
day. She was glad that she would not have to continue her perilous
wanderings; now she sat quietly waiting for the dawn.

***

Strong Ingmar had a daughter who was called Anna Lisa. She had
lived in Chicago for a number of years, and had married there a
Swede named John Hellgum, who was the leader of a little band of
religionists with a faith and doctrine of their own. The day after
the memorable dance night at Strong Ingmar's, Anna Lisa and her
husband had come home to pay a visit to her old father.

Hellgum passed his time taking long walks about the parish. He
struck up an acquaintance with all whom he met on the way. He
talked with them at first of commonplace things; but just before
parting with a person, he would always place his large hand upon
his or her shoulder, and speak a few words of comfort or warning.

Strong Ingmar saw very little of his son-in-law, for that summer
the old man and young Ingmar, who had now gone back to the Ingmar
Farm to live, were hard at work daytimes putting up a sawmill below
the rapids. It was a proud day for Strong Ingmar when the sawmill
was ready and the first log had been turned into white planks by
the buzzing saws.

One evening on his way home from work, the old man met Anna Lisa on
the road. She looked frightened, and wanted to run away. Strong
Ingmar, seeing this, quickened his pace, t