“There’s nothing to be afraid of, _lillä vannen_,” comforted her mother, trying to steady her own voice. “We are right here where we can see you through the windows.” “Where did you get those flowers?” Kaisa’s tones were sharper than usual. “Not on the river bank, surely.” “Gerda and I--we went up--up the path a little ways just a little ways,” said the girl, “to pick them.” “That’s blue vervain!” screamed Kaisa, raising her arms in horror. “Throw it away, child; it’s cursed!” The little girl dropped the flowers. “Pick it up and throw it out!” she ordered. “Hush!” said Olga, stooping for the flowers. “Do not frighten the little one. That’s but an old foolish superstition.” She crossed to the door and flung the blossoms far. Coming back, she asked Silent Sven if he had some candy for the children. He pulled a bulky bag from his pocket. “Do not go up the path again,” cautioned Olga. “Stay on the river bank. Now run and play with the others. Mind you give some candy to the rest!” The girl reached eagerly for the bag and started for the door, drying her eyes with one hand. She ran off the board platform, darted between the wagons hitched in front of the store, and on down to the river bank where the children were swinging on the young willows. “I do believe some one else is coming,” cried Olga, going to the window and peering out. She uttered a dismayed cry, and the rest crowded behind her. Black Eric dashed up in a smart new buggy, to which were hitched two slim, shining horses. A moment later, whip in hand, he entered the store. He looked around, smiling at the group, and began shaking hands, greeting each one jovially. “And here’s Olga, too,” he cried, his black eyes snapping with delight as he stepped up to her. The young woman’s face flushed hotly. Silent Sven edged nearer. “My name is Mrs. Nillson,” she said coldly, refusing to take his hand. “Ven can I come for coffee and some of your good _äppelkaka_?” he smirked, laughing at her dismay. “Talk Swede so I can understand,” croaked the old woman puffing viciously at her pipe, “and leave Olga alone. You needn’t put on airs, for all you’ve been to the city.” “Well, old sourface!” he answered good-naturedly. “Anything to please such a beauty as you! _Ta’ mej fan_, but I’m glad to be back!” He looked around from face to face, but saw no gleam of welcome. “What’s the matter?” he asked abruptly. They shrank away, as if fearing the ring of command in his voice. Olga touched her husband’s arm. “Let’s go, dear,” she coaxed. “Let’s go at once.” “We’ll stay yet awhile,” answered Sven, flashing her a reassuring smile. “He’ll get them all in his power,” she whispered. “Just as he had them before. Every one of us. I can feel it in his voice.” She tugged at his sleeve. “I’m not in his power, and I said we’d stay awhile,” he answered quietly. “What brought you back, Eric?” asked Wise Olaf. “Love for Young Eric, I suppose?” The crowd responded with a smothered laugh.