At this the Fru hastened in, and with Elsa’s help, raised the frail old man and placed him on a bench; and while her mother did what she could to make him comfortable, Elsa hurried to the fields to send her father for the village doctor. As it was a long journey to the village it was almost nightfall before the peasant Sveaborg reached home. Meantime Herr Lönnrot had passed from the swoon into a high fever, and all day his mind had wandered, and he had talked strangely; sometimes of his home and his journey, but more often of the lost rune of the magic harp, which seemed to trouble him sorely. At last the doctor came, and after examining his patient, said that he was suffering from the effects of a serious cold, and that he must be kept quiet and well cared for. Then as Herr Lönnrot continued to toss and murmur, the doctor asked Fru Sveaborg if she knew of aught that troubled him. As the Fru looked perplexed, Elsa spoke. “The rune, mother! Hark! even now he is speaking of it!” And as they listened, the poor Herr, who had not the least notion of what he was saying, exclaimed: “The harp! Ah, yes, I must go seek it! the magic harp”—and here he broke off into low, unintelligible words. At this the doctor looked grave, and said that it was a pity that anything seemed to be on the patient’s mind, as it might make the fever harder to overcome. He then measured out some medicines, and took his leave, after giving Fru Sveaborg directions for caring for the aged patient. The next day, under the faithful nursing of Elsa’s mother, Herr Lönnrot seemed better, though still very weak, and when the doctor again saw him, he said that with continued good care he thought all would go well, but that the Herr must not think of going on with his journey for a week, at least. After this visit from the doctor, Elsa’s father, who had been waiting at home in case he should be needed, told Fru Sveaborg that he must go to finish the work he was doing at a neighboring farm, and as it would take him a day or two, he would stop on the way and send the Fru’s sister to help her care for the sick stranger. When her father was gone, and her mother busy about her work, Elsa drew out her wheel, and as she sat alone spinning as hard as she could, she yet found time to think of a great many things. She thought of the lost rune of the birth of the harp, and of good Herr Lönnrot, lying on his bed and chafing and worrying with every hour that his journey was delayed. Then she thought of the peasant Ulricborg, and of what her father had told of his reported illness. “Ah”, said she to herself, “what if he die before Herr Lönnrot can travel thither! Then the rune may be lost forever, and dear Herr Lönnrot can never, never finish the beautiful song-story!” The more she thought about it, the more Elsa became convinced that something should be done, and that without delay.