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Lennert had been killed. Strong Måns, who had
dealt him the death-blow, was a son of the old man
in the forest hut. And when the vagabonds gathered
together there, on Sunday afternoon, they
passed the gin bottle to the old man oftener than
usual, and talked to him of prison life and prison
fare and trials, for they knew all about that.
The old man sat on the chopping-block in the
chimney-corner, and said very little; his great dull
eyes gazed upon the wild crowd filling the room.
Twilight had come, but the firelight flooded the
room. It shone upon rags, misery, and fierce want.
Then the door opened gently, and two women
entered. It was the young Countess Elizabeth
followed by the Broby parson’s daughter. She looked
strange to the old man, as sweetly, in her gentle
beauty, she stepped into the circle of firelight. She
told them that Gösta Berling had not been seen at
Ekeby since Captain Lennert’s death. She and her
maid had been up in the forest seeking him all the
afternoon. She noticed that there were men here
who had journeyed much, and knew all the forest
paths. Had they seen him? She had come in to rest
and ask them if they had met him.
It was a useless question—no one had seen him.
They placed a chair for her, and she sank down
upon it and was silent for a time. All the noise in
the hut had ceased. All looked at her and wondered
at her, till she was frightened at the silence, started
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