rbed, with set lips and lowered eyelids at the
head of the bed whereon the corpse was now laid out, grimly rigid,--with
bound-up jaws, and clasped fingers like stiff, dried bones. Her thoughts
dwelt gloomily and intently on Gueldmar's words--"The Eternal Justice
cannot err." Eternal Justice! What sentence would Eternal Justice pass
upon the crime of murder?--or attempt to murder? "I am guilty," the
unhappy woman reflected, with a strong shudder chilling her veins,
"guilty even as Lovisa! I tried to kill my child--I thought, I hoped it
was dead! It was not my meaning that it should live. And this Eternal
Justice, may be, will judge the intention more than the crime. O Lord,
Lord! save my soul! Teach me how to escape from the condemning fires of
Thine anger!" Thus she prayed and wrestled with, her accusing self in
secret--despair and fear raging in her heart, though not a flicker of
her inward agitation betrayed itself outwardly on her stolid,
expressionless features.

Meanwhile the wind rose to a tearing, thunderous gale, and the night,
already so dark, darkened yet more visibly. Olaf Gueldmar, driving
swiftly homewards, caught the first furious gust of the storm that came
rushing onward from the North Cape, and as it swooped sideways against
his light sledge, he was nearly hurled from his seat by the sudden
violence of the shock. He settled himself more firmly, encouraging with
a cheery word the startled reindeer, who stopped short,--stretching out
their necks and sniffing the air, their hairy sides heaving with the
strain of trotting against the blast, and the smoke of their breath
steaming upwards in the frosty air like white vapor. The way lay now
through a narrow defile bordered with tall pines,--and as the terrified
animals, recovering, shook the tinkling bells on their harness, and once
more resumed their journey, the road was comparatively sheltered, and
the wind seemed to sink as suddenly as it rose. There was a hush--an
almost ominous silence.

The sledge glided more slowly between the even lines of upright giant
trees, crowned with icicles and draped in snow,--the _bonde_
involuntarily loosened the reins of his elfin steeds, and again returned
to those painful and solemn musings, from which the stinging blow of the
tempest had for a moment roused him. The proud heart of the old man
ached bitterly. What! All these years had passed, and he, the descendant
of a hundred Vikings, had been cheated of justice! He ha