The days went on. The settlers were healthy folk; what was to come would come; they went about their work and waited. They lived close to each other like beasts of the forest; they slept and ate; already the year was so far advanced that they had tried the new potatoes, and found them large and floury. The blow that was to fall--why did it not come? It was late in August already, soon it would be September; were they to be spared through the winter? They lived in a constant watchfulness; every night they crept close together in their cave, thankful that the day had passed without event. And so the time went on until one day in October, when the Lensmand came up with a man and a bag. The Law stepped in through their doorway. The investigation took some time. Inger was called up and examined privately; she denied nothing. The grave in the wood was opened, and its contents removed, the body being sent for examination. The little body--it was dressed in Eleseus' christening robe, and a cap sewn over with beads. Isak seemed to find speech again. "Ay," said he, "it's as bad as well can be with us now. I've said before--you ought never to have done it." "No," said Inger. "How did you do it?" Inger made no answer. "That you could find it in your heart...." "She was just the same as myself to look at. And so I took and twisted her face round." Isak shook his head slowly. "And then she was dead," went on Inger, beginning to cry. Isak was silent for a while. "Well, well, 'tis too late to be crying over it now," said he. "She had brown hair," sobbed Inger, "there at the back of her head...." And again no more was said. Time went on as before. Inger was not locked up; the law was merciful. Lensmand Heyerdahl asked her questions just as he might have spoken to any one, and only said, "It's a great pity such things should happen at all." Inger asked who had informed against her, but the Lensmand answered that it was no one in particular; many had spoken of the matter, and he had heard of it from several quarters. Had she not herself said something about it to some Lapps? Inger--ay, she had told some Lapps about Os-Anders, how he came and brought a hare that summer, and gave her unborn child the hare-lip. And wasn't it Oline who had sent the hare?--The Lensmand knew nothing about that. But in any case, he could not think of putting down such ignorant superstition in his report. "But my mother saw a hare just before I was born," said Inger....