d drive past all the other carts and lead the
procession; then again it would take the side of the road and let
the other teams go by. It was an ordinary wagon, the kind commonly
used for carting; therefore, it was impossible to tell to whom it
belonged. Nor did any one recognize the horse.

It was driven by an old man, who was much bent, and had wrinkled
hands and a long white beard. Certainly none of them knew who he
was. But by his side sat a woman whom they somehow felt they knew.
No one could see her face, for her head was covered with a black
shawl, both sides of which she held together so closely that not
even her eyes were seen. Many tried to guess from her figure and
size who she was, but no two guessed alike.

Gunhild said at once, "It's my mother," and Israel Tomasson's wife
declared that it was her sister. There was scarcely a person among
them but had his or her own notion as to who it was. Tims Halvor
thought it was old Eva Gunnersdotter.

The strange cart accompanied them all the way, but not once did
the woman draw the shawl back from her face. To some of the
Hellgumists she became a person they loved, to others one they
feared, but to most of them she was some one whom they had
deserted.

Wherever the road was wide enough to allow of it, the strange
cart would drive past the whole line of wagons, and then pull to
one side until they had all gone by. At such times the unknown
woman would turn toward the travellers, and watch them from behind
her drawn shawl; but she made no sign to any of them, so that no
one could really say for certain who she was. She followed all the
way to the railway station. There they expected to see her face;
but when they got down and began to look around for her--she was
gone.

***

When the procession of carts and wagons passed along the
countryside, no one was seen cutting grass, or raking hay, or
stacking hay. That morning all work had been suspended, and every
one was either standing at the roadside in their Sunday clothes or
driving to see the travellers off; some went with them six miles,
some twelve, a few accompanied them all the way to the railway
station.

Throughout the entire length and breadth of the parish only one
man was seen at work. That man was Hoek Matts Ericsson. Nor was he
mowing grass-that he regarded as only child's play. He was clearing
away stones from his land, just as he had done in his youth, when
preparing his newly acquired acres for