Karin's eyes grew large with horror. She drew her husband round the
corner of the house and said, "Jan, I can't see that crazy woman go off
with the baby. Let me keep it!"

"We have mouths enough to feed already," said the husband, and the
sturdy giant looked down, not unkindly, into the appealing eyes. His
face softened as he saw the little black bow at her throat, her only
week-day sign of mourning for her own little baby, so lately laid in
the grave.

"He will cost us almost nothing for a long time," she said, "and he can
wear my little Gustaf's clothes. Perhaps God has let our little boy up
in heaven send this baby to me to take his place."

"You are a good woman, Karin, and you ought to have your way," said the
husband; and she knew she had his consent.

Francesca looked back with approval on the cheerful room as she came
out, then stooped to pick a bit of mignonnette that grew by the steps.

Karin stretched out her hands, took the little brown baby in her arms,
pointed to the black bow at her throat, and quickly made a sign of
laying a baby low in a grave. Then she pressed the little stranger
close, close to her heart, and moved as if she would go into the
cottage with him.

A light gleamed in Francesca's eyes, and a tear actually glittered on
her husband's black eyelashes.

"I keep the child," said Karin distinctly, turning to the man.

He bowed his head solemnly, and said, "I leave him." Then he pointed
suddenly up to the sky, stretching his arm to its full length; then he
thrust out both hands freely towards her again and again, as if
throwing gifts in lavish profusion.

[Illustration: "He thrust out both hands, as if throwing gifts in
lavish profusion."]

Karin understood his "God will reward you abundantly" as well as if it
had been spoken in words. She kissed the little brown baby in reply,
and the father knew that crazy Francesca's child had found a mother's
love.

The men bowed and waved their hands, and the bear followed them
lumberingly out through the gate. Francesca lingered a moment, then
caught up a stick from within the enclosure, where Jan had been lately
chopping. She wrapped it hastily in her shawl, and went off with a
long, wild laugh.

The Swedes watched the party make their way along the road, until they
came to a turn that was to hide them from sight. There the Italians
swung their broad hats, and Francesca threw the stick high in the air
and caught it in her hands,