they
were after her again, it seemed.

Isak trundled slowly over towards them. Inger turned and saw him, and
bowed forward where she sat; all the life went out of her, she hung
like a rag.

"H'm. Did you know that ewe's out again?" asked Isak. "But no, you
wouldn't know," said he.

The young telegraph hand picked up his cap and began sidling away.
"I'll be getting along after the others," he said. "Good-night to ye."
No one answered.

"So you're sitting here," said Isak. "Going to stay out a bit, maybe?"
And he turned towards home. Inger rose to her knees, got on her feet
and followed after, and so they went, man in front and wife behind,
tandem-wise. They went home.

Inger must have found time to think. Oh, she found a way. "'Twas the
ewe I was after," said she. "I saw it was out again. Then one of the
men came up and helped me look. We'd not been sitting a moment when
you came. Where are you going now?"

"I? Seems I'd better look for the creature myself."

"No, no, go and lie down. If any one's to go, let me. Go and lie down,
you'll be needing rest. And as for that, the ewe can stay out where
she is--'twon't be the first time."

"And be eaten up by some beast or other," said Isak, and went off.

Inger ran after him. "Don't, don't, it's not worth it," she said. "You
need rest. Let me go."

Isak gave in. But he would not hear of Inger going out to search by
herself. And they went indoors together.

Inger turned at once to look for the children; went into the little
chamber to see to the boys, as if she had been out on some perfectly
natural errand; it almost seemed, indeed, as if she were trying to
make up to Isak--as if she expected him to be more in love with her
than ever that evening--after she had explained it all so neatly.
But no, Isak was not so easy to turn; he would rather have seen her
thoroughly distressed and beside herself with contrition. Ay, that
would have been better. What matter that she had collapsed for
a moment when he came on her in the woods; the little moment of
shame--what was the good of that when it all passed off so soon?

He was far from gentle, too, the next day, and that a Sunday; went off
and looked to the sawmill, looked to the cornmill, looked over the
fields, with the children or by himself. Inger tried once to join him,
but Isak turned away: "I'm going up to the river," he said. "Something
up there...."

There was trouble in his mind, like enough, but he bore it sil