And again no more was said.

Time went on as before.  Inger was not locked up; the law was merciful.  Lensmand Heyerdahl asked her questions just as he might have spoken to any one, and only said, “It’s a great pity such things should happen at all.”  Inger asked who had informed against her, but the Lensmand answered that it was no one in particular; many had spoken of the matter, and he had heard of it from several quarters.  Had she not herself said something about it to some Lapps?

Inger—­ay, she had told some Lapps about Os-Anders, how he came and brought a hare that summer, and gave her unborn child the hare-lip.  And wasn’t it Oline who had sent the hare?—­The Lensmand knew nothing about that.  But in any case, he could not think of putting down such ignorant superstition in his report.

“But my mother saw a hare just before I was born,” said Inger....

The barn was finished; a great big place it was, with hay-stalls on both sides and a threshing-floor in the middle.  The shed and the other makeshift places were emptied now, and all the hay brought into the barn; the corn was reaped, dried in stacks, and carted in.  Inger took up the carrots and turnips.  All their crops were in now.  And everything might have been well with them—­they had all they needed.  Isak had started on new ground again, before the frost came, to make a bigger cornfield; Isak was a tiller of the soil.  But in November Inger said one day, “She would have been six months old now, and known us all.”

“’Tis no good talking of that now,” said Isak.

When the winter came, Isak threshed his corn on the new threshing-floor, and Inger helped him often, with an arm as quick to the work as his own, while the children played in the haystalls at the side.  It was fine plump grain.  Early in the new year the roads were good, and Isak started carting down his loads of wood to the village; he had his regular customers now, and the summer-dried wood fetched a good price.  One day he and Inger agreed that they should take the fine bull-calf from Goldenhorns and drive it down to Fru Geissler, with a cheese into the bargain.  She was delighted, and asked how much it cost.

“Nothing,” said Isak.  “The Lensmand paid for it before.”

“Heaven bless him, and did he?” said Fru Geissler, touched at the thought.  She sent things up for Eleseus and Sivert in return—­cakes and picture-books and toys.  When Isak came back and Inger saw the things, she turned away and cried.

“What is it?” asked Isak.

“Nothing,” answered Inger.  “Only—­she’d have been just a year now, and able to see it all.”

“Ay, but you know how it was with her,” said Isak, for comfort’s sake.  “And after all, it may be we’ll get off easier than we thought.  I’ve found out where Geissler is now.”

Inger looked up.  “But how’s that going to help us?”

“I don’t know....”