While Lotta stood there terrified, listening to the retreating footsteps, the lad and the maids in the kitchen had likewise heard the noise, and sprung up from their seats. And now they saw their young mistress come staggering in toward them, her hair and dress in disorder, and the blood flowing from a cut on her forehead. All four hurried to her, but she waved them off impatiently. "Never mind about me," she cried. "Hurry after my husband and--the other one. Quick, and look after them before they kill each other." The four stood still, too confused to act on her orders, and she cried excitedly: "Don't sit there staring at me! After them, before they kill each other!" At this the lad hurried out, and the milkmaid, a big strong girl, followed after him, but the two others stayed in the kitchen to look to their mistress. They brought forward a chair and begged her to sit down, for she was trembling as if the floor were swaying under her. Her strength was at an end now, and she fell to crying like a child. "Help me over to Lotta Hedman," she cried. "Help me over to Lotta." The two servants took her under the arms and led her across the courtyard to Lotta's room. And Lotta, standing in the doorway, saw them coming, and hurried forward to meet Sigrun. She led her to the wicker chair that had been waiting for her all the evening. "And I have done nothing," said Sigrun. "Lotta, I have done nothing wrong. We were just talking, that was all. And he was sitting in the next room, watching." Suddenly she turned deathly pale, and would have fainted, but Lotta dashed water in her face, and she came to herself. Lotta made haste to wash the cut on her head, and saw it was neither deep nor serious; but what troubled her most was that Sigrun seemed hardly to be quite clear in her mind. She talked all the time, repeating the same thing over and over again. "And I have done nothing," she said. "I have done nothing wrong. We were just talking. And he was sitting in the next room, watching." "Oh, I know, Sigrun--I know you have done no wrong," said Lotta, addressing her now familiarly, as in the old days. "You understand, Lotta, I know," said Sigrun again. "I have done nothing...." Lotta tried to interrupt her. "Sigrun, I'm so afraid you will be ill," she said. "We must ask Malin to get your bed ready, and you can lie down." But at this, the flow of words suddenly stopped. "No, not there! I will never go back to him," said the sick woman quite briefly and dearly.' "But, dear angel," said Lotta. "You can never mean that!" "I will lie down here," said Sigrun. "I will sleep in your bed, Lotta. I can feel I am going to be ill. And I must be in a place where I feel safe." A moment later she began again as before: "I have done nothing wrong. We were just talking. And he was sitting in the next room, and came rushing in...." She looked at them with her eyes all wild, as if wondering why they did not follow what she was saying.