Then Tuft, throwing out his right hand: "Now you, too, are ruled by dogmas," turned his back on him and went off again. His broad hat over his broad shoulders had the effect of broadly accentuating his last words. Shortly after eleven the bell rang again, just in the same way. Kallem came out at once, he had evidently not been in bed yet. It was Tuft who was there again; but as far as Kallem could see, without being near him, he appeared like another man, horrified and harrowed. "Where do you think she can have gone to, Edward?" "I think she must have gone to Ragni's grave." A choking sob, a visible welling-up of grief, and he turned and went away. His heavy footfall was heard far off through the stillness of the grove. Toward one o'clock there was again a ring at the door, but this time it was only one single timid peal. Kallem heard it directly and came out from the room--he was still sitting up. A woman stood there. Kallem, who was shortsighted, hurried up to her, but the voice proved to be Sissel Aune's. "Dear, kind doctor, be good and merciful!" Kallem thought she had come on his sister's behalf, and that something had happened; he shivered. But Sissel continued: "None but you can manage him; he gets quite mad every blessed night." "Do you mean Anne?" shouted Kallem. "Yes, he fancies he sees Kristen Larssen after him, so he rushes away through the town, into the wood and out on the high road; this is the third night, and I cannot stand it any longer. Dear, good doctor, I have no one but you to turn to," here she began to cry, "and no one else has any power over him but you." Had the clever bookbinder and fiddler gone mad? Then had he freed himself from his power? Had he taken to drink again, was this delirium? No, no, he was "mad" from fear of Kristen Larssen's ghost. Kallem started directly with her. The sky was clouded, and the night very dark; but a fresh northerly wind began to sweep the clouds away. It shook and rustled the trees by the roadside, whistling through the thick foliage and seeming to ask and ask all manner of things as they passed by. Was it not very strange that Aune, who had fooled people into believing in Kristen Larssen's ghost, should now be rushing about mad with terror of what he had himself set going? Every evening after dark, Sissel declared that Aune imagined Kristen Larssen was after him and going to take him to hell! At that instant a shriek was heard far off, one sharp, breathless call for help. It rose up like a spectre in the night, it seemed almost visible. "There he is!" cried Sissel, clasping her hands. "Christ help us!" she shrieked, and began running. But Kallem hurried after her: "You will only be slower like that, Sissel; go quietly--go quietly, I tell you!"