ate about: come along home," said she harshly,
pushing the child. Ditte was unaccustomed to be spoken to in this
manner, and she hurried along.

The house was cold as they entered it, and Maren put the little one
straight to bed. Then having gathered sticks for the fire, she put
on water for the coffee, talking to herself all the while. "Ugh,
just so; but who's to blame? The innocent must suffer, to make the
guilty speak."

"What did you say, Granny?" asked Ditte from the alcove.

"'Twas only I'm thinking your father'll soon find his way down here
after this."

A trap came hurrying through the dark and stopped outside. In burst
the owner of the Sand farm. There was no good in store for them; his
face was red with anger and he started abusing them almost before he
got inside the door. Maren had her head well wrapped up against the
cold, and pretended to hear nothing. "Well, well, you're a sight for
sore eyes," said she, smilingly inviting him in.

"Don't suppose that I've come to make a fuss of you, you crafty old
hag!" stormed Anders Olsen in his thin cracked voice. "No, I've come
to fetch you, I have, and that at once. So you'd better come!"
seizing her by the arm.

Maren wrenched herself out of his grasp. "What's wrong with you?"
asked she, staring at him in amazement.

"Wrong with me?--you dare to ask that, you old witch, you. Haven't
you been up to the farm this afternoon--dragging the brat with you?
though you were bought and paid to keep off the premises. Made
trouble you have, you old hag, and bewitched my wife, so she's dazed
with pain. But I'll drag you to justice and have you burned at the
stake, you old devil!" He foamed at the mouth and shook his clenched
fist in her face.

"So you order folks to be burnt, do you?" said Maren scornfully.
"Then you'd best light up and stoke up for yourself as well.
Seemingly you've taken more on your back than you can carry."

"What do you mean by that?" hissed the farmer, gesticulating, as if
prepared at any moment to pounce upon Maren and drag her to the
trap. "Maybe it's a lie, that you've been to the farm and scared my
wife?" He went threateningly round her, but without touching her.
"What have you to do with my back?" shouted he loudly, with fear in
his eyes. "D'you want to bewitch me too, what?"

"'Tis nothing with your back I've to do, or yourself either. But all
can see that the miser's cake'll be eaten, ay, even by crow and
raven if need be. Keep your s