Later in the day the housewife sat again in the same place, and read her Bible. She was alone; the women had gone to church, and the men were bear-hunting in the forest. As soon as Ingmar Ingmarson had eaten and drunk, he took his sons with him and went out to the forest; for it is every man's duty to kill a bear wherever and whenever he comes across one. It does not do to spare a bear, for sooner or later it will get a taste for flesh, and then it will spare neither man nor beast. But after they were gone a great feeling of fear came over the old housewife, and she began to read her Bible. She read the lesson for the day, which was also the text for the Pastor's sermon; but she did not get further than this: 'Peace on earth, goodwill towards men.' She remained sitting and staring at these words with her dull eyes, now and again sighing deeply. She did not read any further, but she repeated time after time in her slow, drawling voice, 'Peace on earth, goodwill towards men.' The eldest son came into the room just as she was going to repeat the words afresh. 'Mother!' he said softly. She heard him, but did not take her eyes from the book whilst she asked: 'Are you not with the others in the forest?' 'Yes,' said he, still more softly, 'I have been there.' 'Come to the table,' she said, 'so that I can see you.' He came nearer, but when she looked at him she saw that he was trembling. He had to press his hands hard against the edge of the table in order to keep them still. 'Have you got the bear?' she asked again. He could not answer; he only shook his head. The old woman got up and did what she had not done since her son was a child. She went up to him, laid her hand on his arm, and drew him to the bench. She sat down beside him and took his hand in hers. 'Tell me now what has happened, my boy.' The young man recognised the caress which had comforted him in bygone days when he had been in trouble and unhappy, and he was so overcome that he began to weep. 'I suppose it is something about father?' she said. 'It is worse than that,' the son sobbed. 'Worse than that?' The young man cried more and more violently; he did not know how to control his voice. At last he lifted his rough hand, with the broad fingers, and pointed to what she had just read: 'Peace on earth. . . .' 'Is it anything about that?' she asked. 'Yes,' he answered. 'Is it anything about the peace of Christmas?' 'Yes.' 'You wished to do an evil deed this morning?' 'Yes.' 'And God has punished us?' 'God has punished us.'