It was driven by an old man, who was much bent, and had wrinkled hands and a long white beard.  Certainly none of them knew who he was.  But by his side sat a woman whom they somehow felt they knew.  No one could see her face, for her head was covered with a black shawl, both sides of which she held together so closely that not even her eyes were seen.  Many tried to guess from her figure and size who she was, but no two guessed alike.

Gunhild said at once, “It’s my mother,” and Israel Tomasson’s wife declared that it was her sister.  There was scarcely a person among them but had his or her own notion as to who it was.  Tims Halvor thought it was old Eva Gunnersdotter.

The strange cart accompanied them all the way, but not once did the woman draw the shawl back from her face.  To some of the Hellgumists she became a person they loved, to others one they feared, but to most of them she was some one whom they had deserted.

Wherever the road was wide enough to allow of it, the strange cart would drive past the whole line of wagons, and then pull to one side until they had all gone by.  At such times the unknown woman would turn toward the travellers, and watch them from behind her drawn shawl; but she made no sign to any of them, so that no one could really say for certain who she was.  She followed all the way to the railway station.  There they expected to see her face; but when they got down and began to look around for her—­she was gone.

***

When the procession of carts and wagons passed along the countryside, no one was seen cutting grass, or raking hay, or stacking hay.  That morning all work had been suspended, and every one was either standing at the roadside in their Sunday clothes or driving to see the travellers off; some went with them six miles, some twelve, a few accompanied them all the way to the railway station.

Throughout the entire length and breadth of the parish only one man was seen at work.  That man was Hoek Matts Ericsson.  Nor was he mowing grass-that he regarded as only child’s play.  He was clearing away stones from his land, just as he had done in his youth, when preparing his newly acquired acres for cultivation.

Gabriel, as he drove along, could see his father from the road.  Hoek Matts was out in the grove prying up stones with his crowbar, and piling them on to a stone hedge.  He never once looked up from his work, but went right on digging and lugging stones, some of which were so big that Gabriel thought they were enough to break his back—­and afterward throwing them up on to the hedge with a force that caused them to splinter, and made sparks fly.  Gabriel, who was driving one of the goods wagons, let his horse look out for itself for a long time while his eyes were turned toward his father.

Old Hoek Matts worked on’ and on, toiling and slaving exactly as he had done when his son was a little lad, and he strove to develop his property.  Grief had taken a firm hold on Hoek Matts; yet he went on digging and prying up larger and larger stones, and piling them on the hedge.