something alive. He sprang up, over to the door, and lo, a vision!
"God or the devil," muttered Isak, who did not use words lightly. He
saw a cow; Inger and a cow, vanishing into the shed.

If he had not stood there himself and heard it--Inger talking softly
to the cow in the shed--he would not have believed. But there he
stood. And all at once a black misgiving came into his mind: a clever
wife, ay, a manager of wonders--but, after all.... No, it was too
much, and that was the only word for it. A spinning-wheel and
carding-combs at a pinch; even the beads perhaps, though they were
over fine to be come by in any way proper and natural. But a cow,
picked up straying on the road, maybe, or in a field--it would be
missed in no time, and have to be found.

Inger stepped out of the shed, and said with a proud little laugh:

"It's only me. I've brought my cow along."

"H'm," said Isak.

"It was that made me so long--I couldn't go but softly with her over
the hills."

"And so you've brought a cow?" said he.

"Yes," said she, all ready to burst with greatness and riches on
earth. "Don't you believe me, perhaps?"

Isak feared the worst, but made no sign, and only said: