The schoolmaster said that he had heard many wonderful things about him.

“Why, of course; but this is the most wonderful of all!  I never knew of it myself until to-day.  Big Ingmar had a good friend who has always lived in a little cabin on his estate,” the pastor continued.

“Yes, I know,” said the schoolmaster.  “He is also named Ingmar; folks call him Strong Ingmar by way of distinction.”

“True,” said the pastor; “his father named him Ingmar in honour of the master’s family.  One Saturday evening, at midsummer, when the nights are almost as light as the days, Big Ingmar and his friend, Strong Ingmar, after finishing their work, put on their Sunday clothes and went down to the village in quest of amusement.”

The pastor paused a moment, and pondered.  “I can imagine that the night must have been a beautiful one,” he went on, “clear and still—­one of those nights when earth and sky seem to exchange hues, the sky turning a bright green while the earth becomes veiled in white mists, lending to everything a white or bluish tinge.  When Big Ingmar and Strong Ingmar were crossing the bridge to the village, it was as if some one had told them to stop and look upward.  They did so.  And they saw heaven open!  The whole firmament had been drawn back to right and left, like a pair of curtains, and the two stood there, hand in hand, and beheld all the glories of heaven.  Have you ever heard anything like it, Mother Stina, or you, Storm?” said the pastor in awed tones.  “Only think of those two standing on the bridge and seeing heaven open!  But what they saw they have never divulged to a soul.  Sometimes they would tell a child or a kinsman that they had once seen heaven open, but they never spoke of it to outsiders.  But the vision lived in their memories as their greatest treasure, their Holy of Holies.”

The pastor closed his eyes for a moment, and heaved a deep sigh.  “I have never before heard tell of such things.”  His voice shook a little as he proceeded.  “I only wish I had stood on the bridge with Big Ingmar and Strong Ingmar, and seen heaven open!

“This morning, immediately after Big Ingmar had been carried home, he requested that Strong Ingmar be sent for.  At once a messenger was dispatched to the croft to fetch him, only to find that Strong Ingmar was not at home.  He was in the forest somewhere, chopping firewood, and was not easy to find.  Messenger after messenger went in search of him.  In the meantime, Big Ingmar felt very anxious lest he should not get to see his old friend again in this life.  First the doctor came, then I came, but Strong Ingmar they couldn’t seem to find.  Big Ingmar took very little notice of us.  He was sinking fast.  ‘I shall soon be gone, Parson,’ he said to me.  ’I only wish I might see Strong Ingmar before I go.’  He was lying on the broad bed in the little chamber off the living-room.  His eyes were wide open and he seemed to be looking all the while at something that was far, far away, and which no one else saw.  The three little children he had rescued sat huddled at the foot of his bed.  Whenever his eyes wandered for an instant from that which he saw in the distance, they rested upon the children, and then his whole face was wreathed in smiles.