Just then one of his fingers got into her mouth and at once she bit it with all her might, so that Bentein shrieked and let go his hold. Quick as lightning Kristin got one hand free, seized his face with it and pressed her thumb with all her might against the ball of one of his eyes; he roared out and rose to his knees; like a cat she slipped from his grasp, threw herself upon him so that he fell upon his back, and, turning, rushed along the road with the mud splashing over her at every bound. She ran and ran without looking back. She heard Bentein coming after, and she ran till her heart thumped in her throat, while she moaned softly and strained her eyes forward—should she never reach Laugarbru? At last she was out on the road where it passed through the fields; she saw the group of houses down on the hill-slope, and at the same moment she bethought her that she durst not run in there, where her mother was,—in the state she was now in, plastered with clay and withered leaves from head to foot, and with her clothing torn to rags. She marked that Bentein was gaining upon her; and on that she bent down and took up two great stones. She threw them when he came near enough; one struck him with such force it felled him to the ground. Then she ran on again and stayed not before she stood upon the bridge. All trembling, she stood and clutched the railing of the bridge; a darkness came before her eyes, and she feared she would drop down in a swoon—but then she thought of Bentein; what if he should come and find her. Shaken with rage and shame she went onwards, though her legs would scarce bear her, and now she felt her face smart where fingernails had scarred it, and felt too she had hurts upon both back and arms. Her tears came hot as fire. She wished Bentein might have been killed by the stone she had thrown—she wished she had gone back and made an end of him—she felt for her knife, but found that she must have lost it. Then again came the thought, she must not be seen at home as she was; and so it came into her mind that she would go to Romundgaard. She would complain to Sira Eirik. But the priest had not come back yet from Jörundgaard. In the kitchen-house she found Gunhild, Bentein’s mother; the woman was alone, and Kristin told her how her son had dealt with her. But that she had gone out to meet Arne she did not tell her. When she saw that Gunhild thought she had been at Laugarbru, she left her to think so. Gunhild said little, but wept a great deal while she washed the mud off Kristin’s clothes and sewed up the worst rents. And the girl was so shaken she paid no heed to the covert glances Gunhild cast on her now and then. When Kristin went, Gunhild took her cloak and went out with her, but took the way to the stables. Kristin asked her whither she was going. “Surely I may have leave to ride down and look after my son,” answered the woman. “See whether you have killed him with that stone of yours, or how it fares with him.”