ned back. Having found what he
wanted, he was leaving the room, when a stranger barred his way.

Olof started; the man had come suddenly and silently as a ghost.
There was something uncanny about him as he stood there--a short,
heavily-built fellow, standing without a word, one hand in his
trousers pocket, a cigar in his mouth, and a red rosette, such as
peasants wear on holidays, in the buttonhole of what was evidently
his best coat. There he stood, gazing fixedly at Olof, with a curious
glitter in his eyes.

"I've a word to say to the bridegroom, if so be he's time to hear,"
said the man in a hoarse voice, still keeping the cigar between his
teeth.

"Why ... here I am, if you want me," said Olof, "though I don't know
who you are...."

"No," said the man, "you don't know who I am. And yet we're sort of
related--yes, that's the word--for all we've never met before."

He took a step forward.

"'Tis your wedding night--and I've come to wish you joy of it. You've
played with many a woman's heart in your time, and driven more than
one good lad to despair--maybe 'twill do you good to learn...."

"What?" cried Olof, with sudden fury. "Out with it, man!"

The fellow's glassy eyes seemed to be straining forward, the pupils
were glittering points of light.

"You, that have worked your will on any and all as it pleased
you--robbed your betters of all they had and cared for--'twill do you
good, maybe, to know that.... _Do you think you're taking an innocent
girl for your bride_?"

The man stood watching the effect of his words. He saw Olof's face
darken, his nostrils expand and quiver. Saw him tremble from head to
foot, like a tree about to fall, waiting but for the last stroke of
the axe. Well, he should have it....

"Well--how does it feel?" He bowed mockingly, and went on with a
sneer: "Wish you joy.... I've more reason, perhaps, than the others,
seeing we're partners, so to speak, in the same...."

"Liar--devil--coward!" Olof's rage broke loose. A step forward, almost
a spring, and with the strength of fury he seized the man by his coat
with both hands and lifted him from the floor.

"Say your prayers!" hissed Olof between his teeth, still holding
the man in mid-air, the shirt-front crushing under his grip. The man
struggled helplessly once or twice, then hung limp; the cigar fell
from his mouth, and Olof felt the body a dead weight in his hands.

"I ... I've been drinking," he gasped--"drinking... don't know