e indeed to Lisbeth, for when she laid her face against her
mother's neck, it was as hot as a burning coal.

In the morning Lisbeth's mother woke her and told her to get up and go
over to Kari Svehaugen's and ask Kari to come to Peerout Castle. Randi
felt so poorly that there was no use in her even trying to get up. She
was not able.

Not able to get up! That also seemed very strange to Lisbeth, for never
before had she seen her mother with cheeks so red and eyes so shining.
The child did not say anything, however, but got up, dressed herself
quickly and quietly, and ran off to Svehaugen.

After that there came several wonderful days at Peerout Castle. When
Lisbeth Longfrock thought about them afterward, they seemed like a
single long day in which a great many things had happened that she
could not separate from one another and set in order. In her
remembrance it was as if shadows had glided to and fro in an ugly
yellow light, while the sound of a heavy, painful breathing was
constantly heard, penetrating all other sounds.

She seemed dimly to see Kari Svehaugen gliding about and taking care of
things in the home and out in the cow house. She herself had climbed a
birch tree several times and picked leaf buds for the animals to eat.
One day Lars Svehaugen had flitted along the road in front of the
house, swiftly, as if he had not a moment to spare. Soon after this,
some one dressed in furs and with big boots on came driving to the
house, and all the neighbors flocked around him, listening to what he
said. And he brought such a curious smell with him! It filled the whole
house, so that, even after he had gone away, he seemed to be still
there.

She thought, too, that once she had seen Kjersti Hoel sitting on a
chair, taking many good things out of a big basket, and Jacob standing
by Kjersti's side with a great slice of raisin cake in his hand. And
Jacob had kept chewing and chewing on his raisin cake, as if it was
hard work to get it down. What she remembered chiefly, though, was
Jacob's eyes,--they looked so big and strange.

Then one morning she had awakened in a clear gray light, and from that
time she remembered everything very distinctly. She was lying in the
little trundle-bed that Jacob had slept in when he lived at home,--she
must, of course, have slept in it all these nights,--and Kari Svehaugen
was standing beside it, looking down upon her. The house was oh! so
still,--she did not hear the heavy, painful