ttle you know him!" she said. "And it is a pity you should hate me,
for I have done you no wrong. I would do good to all if I knew
how,--tell me can I comfort you, or make your life more cheerful? It
must be hard to be so old and all alone!"

"Your death would comfort me!" returned Lovisa grimly. "Why do you keep
Britta from me?"

"I do not keep her," Thelma answered. "She stays with me because she is
happy. Why do you grudge her, her happiness? And as for burning my
father's house, surely you would not do so wicked and foolish a
thing!--but still, you must do as you choose, for it is not possible
that we shall leave the Altenfjord to please you."

Here Ulrika started forward angrily. "You defy us!" she cried. "You will
not go?" And in her excitement she seized Thelma's arm roughly.

This action was too much for Sigurd; he considered it an attack on the
person of his beloved mistress and he resented it at once in his own
fashion. Throwing himself on Ulrika with sudden ferocity, he pushed and
beat her back as though he were a wolf-hound struggling with refractory
prey; and though the ancient Lovisa rushed to the rescue, and Thelma
imploringly called upon her zealous champion to desist,--all
remonstrances were unavailing, till Sigurd had reduced his enemy to the
most abject and whimpering terror.

"A demon--a demon!" she sobbed and moaned, as the valiant dwarf at last
released her from his clutches; and, tossing his long, fair locks over
his misshapen shoulders, laughed loudly and triumphantly with delight at
his victory. "Lovisa! Lovisa Elsland! this is your doing; you brought
this upon me! I may die now, and you will not care! O Lord, Lord, have
mercy--"

Suddenly she stopped; her eyes dilated,--her face grew grey with the
sickening pallor of fear. Slowly she raised her hand and pointed to
Sigurd--his fantastic dress had become disordered in the affray, and his
jacket was torn open,--and on his bare chest a long red scar in the
shape of a cross was distinctly visible. "That scar!" she muttered. "How
did he get that scar?"

Lovisa stared at her in impatient derision. Thelma was too surprised to
answer immediately, and Sigurd took it upon himself to furnish what he
considered a crushing reply.

"Odin's mark!" he said, patting the scar with much elation. "No wonder
you are afraid of it! Everybody knows it--birds, flowers, trees, and
stars! Even you--you are afraid!"

And he laughed again, and snapped his fingers