“And there’s more there, by your mouth.  Are you afraid of water?—­it won’t bite you!”

In the end, Inger washes the patient herself, and throws her a towel.

“What I was going to say,” says Oline, wiping herself, and quite peaceable now.  “About Isak and the children—­how will they get over this?”

“Does he know?” asks Inger.

“Know?  He came and saw it.”

“What did he say?”

“What could he say?  He was speechless, same as me.”

Silence.

“It’s all your fault,” wails Inger, beginning to cry.

“My fault?  I wish I may never have more to answer for!”

“I’ll ask Os-Anders, anyhow, be sure of that.”

“Ay, do.”

They talk it all over quietly, and Oline seems less revengeful now.  An able politician, is Oline, and quick to find expedients; she speaks now as if in sympathy—­what a terrible thing it will be for Isak and the children when it is found out!

“Yes,” says Inger, crying again.  “I’ve thought and thought of that night and day.”  Oline thinks she might be able to help, and be a saviour to them in distress.  She could come and stay on the place to look after things, while Inger is in prison.

Inger stops crying; stops suddenly as if to listen and take thought.  “No, you don’t care for the children.”

“Don’t care for them, don’t I?  How could you say such a thing?”

“Ah, I know....”

“Why, if there’s one thing in the world I do feel and care for, ’tis children.”

“Ay, for your own,” says Inger.  “But how would you be with mine?  And when I think how you sent that hare for nothing else but to ruin me altogether—­oh, you’re no better than a heap of wickedness!”

“Am I?” says Oline.  “Is it me you mean?”

“Yes, ’tis you I mean,” says Inger, crying; “you’ve been a wicked wretch, you have, and I’ll not trust you.  And you’d steal all the wool, too, if you did come.  And all the cheeses that’d go to your people instead of mine....”

“Oh, you wicked creature to think of such a thing!” answers Oline.

Inger cries, and wipes her eyes, saying a word or so between.  Oline does not try to force her.  If Inger does not care about the idea, ’tis all the same to her.  She can go and stay with her son Nils, as she has always done.  But now that Inger is to be sent away to prison, it will be a hard time for Isak and the innocent children; Oline could stay on the place and give an eye to things.  “You can think it over,” says Oline.

Inger has lost the day.  She cries and shakes her head and looks down.  She goes out as if walking in her sleep, and makes up a parcel of food for Oline to take with her. “’Tis more than’s worth your while,” says Oline.

“You can’t go all that way without a bite to eat,” says Inger.

When Oline has gone, Inger steals out, looks round, and listens.  No, no sound from the quarry.  She goes nearer, and hears the children playing with little stones.  Isak is sitting down, holding the crowbar between his knees, and resting on it like a staff.  There he sits.