ike a man of honour!" said the son, bringing his
hand down heavily on the table. A sense of gladness stole in upon
him in spite of his suspicions. To think that it was something so
splendid the old man had been holding back from him the whole day!
"I told the ironmaster that he needn't pay me just then; that if he
would only give me a new note the money could remain in his
safekeeping."
"That was well," said the son approvingly. There was a strong, glad
ring in his voice, that betrayed an eagerness he would rather not
have shown, for he knew of old that one could never be quite sure
of Ol' Bengtsa--in the very next breath he might say it was just a
yarn.
"You don't believe me," observed the old man. "Would you like to
see the note? Run in and get it, Lisa!"
Almost immediately the son had the note before his eyes. First he
glanced at the signature, and recognized the firm, legible hand of
the ironmaster. Then he looked at the figures, and found them
correct. He nodded to his wife, who sat opposite him, that it was
all right, at the same time passing the note to her, knowing how
interested she would be to see it.
The wife examined the note carefully. "What does this mean?" she
asked--"'Payable to Lisa Persdotter of Lusterby'--is Lisa to have
the money?"
"Yes," the old man answered. "She gets this money because she has
been a good daughter to me."
"But this is unfair--"
"No, it is not unfair," drawled the old man in a tired voice. "I
have squared myself and owe nobody anything. I might have had one
other creditor," he added turning to this son, "but after looking
into matters, I find that I haven't."
"You mean me, I suppose," said the son. "But you don't seem to
think I--" All that the son had wanted to say to the father was
left unsaid, as he was interrupted by a piercing shriek from the
opposite side of the table.
Lars Gunnarson had just seized a bottle of brandy and put it to
his mouth. His wife, screaming from terror, was trying to take it
from him. He held her back until he had emptied half the contents,
whereupon he set the bottle down and turned to his wife, his face
flushed, his eyes staring wildly, his hands clenched.
"Didn't you hear it was Jan who found the note?" he said in a
hoarse voice. "All his dreams come true! Can't you comprehend that
the man has the gift of second sight? You'll see that something
dreadful will happen to me this day, as he has predicted."
"Why he has only ca
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