On they went as fast as they could. The old couple were only afraid that the madman would not be at the inn any longer. But he was there, and the worst of it was, no one knew how to get him away. The two peasants from Raglanda who had brought him had taken him to one of the rooms and locked him in whilst they were waiting for fresh horses. When they left him his arms had been tied behind him, but he had somehow managed to free his hands from the cord, and when they came to fetch him he was free, and, beside himself with rage, had seized a chair, with which he threatened to strike anyone who approached him. They could do nothing but beat a hasty retreat and lock the door. The peasants now only waited for the landlord and his men to return and help them to bind him again. All the hope which Ingrid's old friends had reawakened within her was, however, not quenched. She quite saw that Gunnar Hede was worse than he had ever been before, but that was what she had expected. She still hoped. It was not their fairy tales, it was their great love that had given her new hope. She asked the men to let her go to the madman. She said she knew him, and he would not do her any harm; but the peasants said they were not mad. The man in the room would kill anybody who went in. Ingrid sat down to think. She thought how strange it was that she should meet Mr. and Mrs. Blomgren just to-day. Surely that meant something. She would never have met them if it had not been for some purpose. And Ingrid thought of how Hede had regained his senses the last time. Could she not again make him do something which would remind him of olden days, and drive away his mad thoughts? She thought and thought. * * * * * Mr. and Mrs. Blomgren sat on a seat outside the inn, looking more unhappy than one would have thought was possible. They were not far from crying. Ingrid, their 'child,' came up to them with a smile--such a smile as only she could have--and stroked their old, wrinkled cheeks, and said it would please her so much if they would let her see a performance like those she used to see every day in the olden time. It would be such a comfort to her. At first they said no, for they were not at all in proper artist humour, but when she had expended a few smiles upon them they could not resist her. They went to their cart and unpacked their costumes. When they were ready they called for the blind man, and Ingrid selected the place where the performance was to be held. She would not let them perform in the yard, but took them into the garden belonging to the inn, for there was a garden belonging to this inn. It was mostly full of beds for vegetables which had not yet come up, but here and there was an apple-tree in bloom. And Ingrid said she would like them to perform under one of the apple-trees in bloom.