in the storm. There was
something else, something still more terrible, voices which he
could not interpret, a confusion of voices, which seemed to him to
speak in foreign tongues. He had heard mightier storms than this
whistle through the rigging, but never before had he heard the wind
play on such a many-voiced harp. Each tree had its own voice; the
pine did not murmur like the aspen nor the poplar like the mountain
ash. Every hole had its note, every cliff's sounding echo its own
ring. And the noise of the brooks and the cry of foxes mingled with
the marvellous forest storm. But all that he could interpret; there
were other strange sounds. It was those which made him begin to
scream and scoff and groan in emulation with the storm.

He had always been afraid when he was alone in the darkness of the
forest. He liked the open sea and the bare rocks. Spirits and
phantoms crept about among the trees.

Suddenly he heard who it was who spoke in the storm. It was God,
the great Avenger, the God of justice. He was hunting him for the
sake of his comrade. He demanded that he should deliver up the
murderer to His vengeance.

Then Tord began to speak in the midst of the storm. He told God
what he had wished to do, but had not been able. He had wished to
speak to Berg Rese and to beg him to make his peace with God, but
he had been too shy. Bashfulness had made him dumb. "When I heard
that the earth was ruled by a just God," he cried, "I understood
that he was a lost man. I have lain and wept for my friend many
long nights. I knew that God would find him out, wherever he might
hide. But I could not speak, nor teach him to understand. I
was speechless, because I loved him so much. Ask not that I shall
speak to him, ask not that the sea shall rise up against the
mountain."

He was silent, and in the storm the deep voice, which had been the
voice of God for him, ceased. It was suddenly calm, with a sharp
sun and a splashing as of oars and a gentle rustle as of stiff
rushes. These sounds brought Unn's image before him.--The outlaw
cannot have anything, not riches, nor women, nor the esteem of men.
--If he should betray Berg, he would be taken under the protection
of the law.--But Unn must love Berg, after what he had done for
her. There was no way out of it all.

When the storm increased, he heard again steps behind him and
sometimes a breathless panting. Now he did not dare to look back,
for he knew that the white monk went be