"And now at last I would say some words of the holiness of Life in the time when war shall no longer exist on earth...." But the words were never spoken. Someone pulled the speaker by the sleeve. "Sven Elversson is ill. He is dying. It has been too much for him." The Pastor stepped down from his place and made his way through the crowd to where Sven Elversson had stood. He lay now on the grass, with his head on his mother's knee, not dead, but very ill. His breast trembled with the violent beating of his heart. When the sick man saw the Pastor approaching, he greeted him with an indescribable smile, full of love and free from fear, as he might have greeted the one dearest to him of all. He tried to reach out his hand toward him, and murmured something either in thanks or asking pardon. The Pastor knelt beside him; he, too, was filled with a great tenderness now, and anxiety at the thought of losing such a friend as Sven Elversson had now become. "Sven Elversson, brother," he said. "Live! You must live now for her sake." They carried the sick man in to the vicarage. A doctor who was present hastened to him. He examined the patient, and declared that he might live a little while--a day, a week, perhaps a year, but that was all. Meanwhile, the crowd stood round the grave, waiting. They knew that Pastor Rhånge had had more to say; that he wished to tell them something that would give them peace and comfort at parting. They could not do without it now. A messenger was sent in to the vicarage, and returned with the answer that the Pastor could not leave Sven Elversson now. He was sitting with his arm round the sick man, and nothing else could give him strength to live, or hinder the spark of life from dying out. THE FIFTH COMMANDMENT WHILE the crowd still waited for the conclusion of the sermon, a voice was heard, not from the graveside, but from somewhere farther out. A woman's voice, thin and shrill, yet strangely audible and distinct. They gathered round the speaker, and saw a young woman on her knees, with arms outstretched, head thrown back, and eyes closed. She seemed unconscious of herself, and spoke as in a trance. "I see the dead," she said--"I see those whom we have buried here. I see them move toward the land of Death, and enter in. And now, after they have gone a little way, I see them coming toward a building, like a schoolhouse, and asking admittance there. "'We are souls that have passed through the school of earth,' they say to the keeper at the gate, 'and we have come hither to show what we have learned of knowledge there.' "But the keeper of the gate shakes his head. He tells them that they have ended their schooling too quickly. But all the same he opens the gate and lets them in. "And I see them go into a great hall. I can see their fear. They are afraid and trembling, like all who are to be questioned so.