"I do not think he is ill," said Sigrun to herself. "He will be all right when he has had a night's rest. No need to call for help." She lit a fire in the other room also, and sat down before it, thinking over her plans. Suddenly she realized that she was tired--she was indeed nearly falling from her seat. Also, she was hungry. "I ought to have brought some food with me," she murmured. And then, suddenly, she remembered her bag. Where was it? It was not in the room. She must have left it in the sledge. She hurried out. The sledge was standing outside, and the bag was there. She picked it up, and was just going back into the house when a voice hailed her. "Is that you, Ruth?" Darkness had fallen quickly. She could vaguely distinguish the figure of an old, bowed man, slowly approaching. "Do not come near us," she cried; "we are infected." "I know," answered the man. "We had a telephone message to-day, but I never thought you would come back here again. Well, well, needs must, they say, when the devil drives." "This must be Joel Elversson," thought Sigrun--"Sven Elversson's father. He is grown old and weak; he takes me for his son's wife." "Sven is not at home to-day," said Joel in his solemn way. "But we will receive you, Ruth, I and Thala, as he would have done if he had known you came here in need and in peril of death. Here is the key of the cupboard. You know where to find all you need there. And we will bring down food for you and set it outside the door." He handed her a small key, which she took without a word. He did not seem to expect any answer. "There's none here bears any grudge against you, Ruth," he said. "We know what it was that made you go. Make yourself as easy as you can, and sleep in peace." He walked away, and Sigrun hurried into the house. In the cupboard she found pillows and sheets--all that was needed for the night. And, shortly afterward, food was brought. Sigrun took a part of it and set it in the next room for her companion, then, barring her door carefully, she ate something herself, and went to bed. "I must have a few hours' sleep now," she thought. "And then I can go on again. I must get away from here before anyone learns who I am." Almost before she had framed the thought she was fast asleep. MORNING THEN Sigrun awoke, a little ray of red winter sun was shining into the poor chamber where she lay. She had slept, not for a few hours only, but the whole night through. She made haste to get up and set the room in order before going on her way. The rest had strengthened her; she felt well and resolute now, and without regret for the step she had taken. The only thing that troubled her now was her fear lest she might be discovered. If only she could get away from Hånger without any one learning who she was, she felt sure the danger would be past. Again she found a tray of food outside her door, and with it a paper, on which was written: