ng the burning brand close up to her face.
"Tell me it is a lie--a black, poisonous lie."

She raised her eyes slowly to his and gazed steadfastly into his face.
"Ah," he continued in the same terrible voice, "it was what I told
them down there at the church--a lie--an infernal lie. And I drew
blood--blood, I say--I did--from the slanderer. Ha, ha, ha! What a lusty
sprawl that was!"

The color came and departed from Brita's cheeks. And still she was
strangely self possessed. She even wondered at her own calmness. Alas,
she did not know that it was a calmness that is more terrible than pain,
the corpse of a forlorn and hopeless heart.

"Child," continued Bjarne, and his voice assumed a more natural tone,
"why dost thou not speak? They have lied about thee, child, because thou
art fair, they have envied thee." Then, almost imploringly, "Open thy
mouth, Brita, and tell thy father that thou art pure--pure as the snow,
child--my own--my beautiful child."

There was a long and painful pause, in which the crackling of the brand,
and the heavy breathing of the old man were the only sounds to break
the silence. Pale like a marble image stood she before him; no word
of excuse, no prayer for forgiveness escaped her; only a convulsive
quivering of the lips betrayed the life that struggled within her. With
every moment the hope died in Bjarne's bosom. His visage was fearful to
behold. Terror and fierce indomitable hatred had grimly distorted his
features, and his eyes burned like fire-coals beneath his bushy brows.

"Harlot," he shrieked, "harlot!"

A cold gust of wind swept through the room. The windows shook, the doors
flew open, as if touched by a strong invisible hand--and the old man
stood alone, holding the flickering brand above his head.

It was after midnight, the wind had abated, but the snow still fell,
thick and silent, burying paths and fences under its cold white mantle.
Onward she fled--onward and ever onward. And whither, she knew not.
A cold numbness had chilled her senses, but still her feet drove her
irresistibly onward. A dark current seemed to have seized her, she only
felt that she was adrift, and she cared not whither it bore her. In
spite of the stifling dullness which oppressed her, her body seemed as
light as air. At last,--she knew not where,--she heard the roar of the
sea resounding in her ears, a genial warmth thawed the numbness of
her senses, and she floated joyfully among the clouds--among gold