The Pastor sat on in his room, reading by the light of the lamp. Again and again he had glanced at the pair by the stove, noting quite carelessly and easily how they sat there, while they, on their part, found nothing to disturb them in the thought that he could see them all the time. Then suddenly he noticed a change. It was impossible to say where it lay. Perhaps the speaker's voice had grown louder and warmer; perhaps the young wife's attitude was different. The Pastor laid down his paper, rose to his feet, and, leaning forward with all his senses on the alert, he watched them. The visitor was still talking about nursing and works of mercy during the war. After a little while, he saw that a tear rolled down the woman's cheek and dropped to her knee, glistened there a moment, and disappeared; then, very gently, tear after tear fell. For a long time he went on talking, without appearing to notice her emotion; then, suddenly, he bent forward so that he almost touched her. "So that is what you have been wanting--that is what you are longing for?" he said. "You want to take part in the work out there yourself?" She folded her hands and held them out toward him. "Oh, how can I help it?" she cried--"longing for it with all my heart. It is dreadful to live on here in comfort, doing nothing." "But could you not get away, then?" "There would be nothing wrong in it," said the woman, lifting her folded hands toward the speaker. "If I could only be free for just a little while. After all, I am a human being--I ought to be allowed to choose for myself for once." The sick man took her hands in his and drew them toward him. "True, indeed!" he said. "You have the right to live as well as the rest of us." Just then they heard footsteps behind them, saw a fierce face in the doorway of the study, and both cried aloud in dismay. The Pastor came rushing toward them, in a violent passion, which left no possibility of any explanation. The Bailie seemed to lose his self-possession altogether. He crouched down in his chair without moving, but Sigrun threw herself toward her husband to stop him. "Run, quick--make haste!" she cried. And the Bailie sprang to his feet and ran toward the door, while Sigrun for a moment held her husband fast. "Edward--what is the matter?" she asked. He did not answer, but flung her aside. She fell to the floor, striking herself badly against a corner of the table, but the Pastor, without heeding her, rushed after the fugitive, out into the hall, down the steps, and across the courtyard. Lotta Hedman, sitting in the scullery with her Bible, was suddenly roused by the shouting and banging of doors and hurrying feet. She rose hurriedly, opened the door, and looked out. Two men were running across the courtyard; in a moment they had disappeared in the darkness.