,
knocking his head against the door jamb because he forgot to stoop.
He dropped into a chair behind the stove, thrusting his big feet back
helplessly on either side of him.

Ole was a long time in coming, and Canute sat there, still and silent,
with his hands clenched on his knees, and the skin of his face seemed to
have shriveled up into little wrinkles that trembled when he lowered his
brows. His life had been one long lethargy of solitude and alcohol,
but now he was awakening, and it was as when the dumb stagnant heat of
summer breaks out into thunder.

When Ole came staggering in, heavy with liquor, Canute rose at once.

"Yensen," he said quietly, "I have come to see if you will let me marry
your daughter today."

"Today!" gasped Ole.

"Yes, I will not wait until tomorrow. I am tired of living alone."

Ole braced his staggering knees against the bedstead, and stammered
eloquently: "Do you think I will marry my daughter to a drunkard? a man
who drinks raw alcohol? a man who sleeps with rattle snakes? Get out
of my house or I will kick you out for your impudence." And Ole began
looking anxiously for his feet.

Canute answered not a word, but he put on his hat and went out into the
kitchen. He went up to Lena and said without looking at her, "Get your
things on and come with me!"

The tones of his voice startled her, and she said angrily, dropping the
soap, "Are you drunk?"

"If you do not come with me, I will take you--you had better come," said
Canute quietly.

She lifted a sheet to strike him, but he caught her arm roughly and
wrenched the sheet from her. He turned to the wall and took down a hood
and shawl that hung there, and began wrapping her up. Lena scratched
and fought like a wild thing. Ole stood in the door, cursing, and Mary
howled and screeched at the top of her voice. As for Canute, he
lifted the girl in his arms and went out of the house. She kicked and
struggled, but the helpless wailing of Mary and Ole soon died away in
the distance, and her face was held down tightly on Canute's shoulder so
that she could not see whither he was taking her. She was conscious only
of the north wind whistling in her ears, and of rapid steady motion and
of a great breast that heaved beneath her in quick, irregular breaths.
The harder she struggled the tighter those iron arms that had held the
heels of horses crushed about her, until she felt as if they would crush
the breath from her, and lay still with fea