“And I’m going down to Falla,” said the seine-maker.  “That’s more important than anything else.  Good-bye for the present.”

The old man hurried away while Katrina went in to prepare the bed; she was hardly inside the door when the rattling noise, which she and the seine-maker believed was caused by a common wagon, sounded as if it were almost upon them.  To Jan it was the rumble of heavy war chariots, at whose approach the whole earth trembled.  He called in a loud voice to Katrina, who came out immediately.

“Dear heart, don’t be so scared!” she said reassuringly.  “I can see the horse now.  It’s the old bay from Falla.  Sit up and you’ll see it, too.”  Slipping her hand under Jan’s neck she raised him to a sitting posture.  Through the elder bushes at the edge of the road a horse could be seen running wildly in the direction of Ruffluck.  “Don’t you see it’s only Lars Gunnarson driving home?  He must have drunk himself full at the tavern, for he doesn’t seem to know which way he’s going.”

When Katrina said that a horse and wagon dashed by their gate.  Both she and Jan noticed that the wagon was empty and the horse driverless.

All at once she let out a shriek:  “Lord deliver us!  Did you see him, Jan?  He’s being dragged alongside the wagon!” Without waiting for a reply she rushed across the yard into the road, where the horse had just bolted past.

Jan let her go without a word.  He was glad to be alone again.  He had not yet found an answer to his query as to why the Empress was angry at him.

The bit of gilt paper now lay directly under his eyes.  It glistened so that he had to look at it again and again.  Meanwhile his thoughts went back to Mad Ingeborg—­to the time when he had come upon her at the Borg landing.  It struck him instantly that here was the answer he had been seeking.  Now he knew what it was the little girl had been displeased about all this while.  He had been unkind to Mad Ingeborg; he should never have refused to let her go along to Portugallia.

How could he ever have imagined anything so mean of the great Empress as that she would not want to have Mad Ingeborg with her!  It was that kind that she liked best to help.  No wonder she was angry!  He ought to have known that the poor and unfortunate were always welcome in her kingdom.

There was very little that could be done in this matter if no to-morrow dawned, mused Jan.  But what if there should be one?  Ah, then he would go and talk with Mad Ingeborg first thing.

He closed his eyes and folded his hands.  Anyway, it was a blissful relief to him that this anxiety had been stilled.  Now it would not be nearly so hard to die.  He had no idea as to how much time had elapsed before he again heard Katrina’s voice close to him.

“Jan, dear, how do you feel now?  You’re not going to die and leave me, are you?”

Katrina sounded so doleful that he had to look up at her.  Then he saw in her hand the imperial stick and the green leather cap.