"But," said he, "think of yourself; you have a hare-lip, and it has
not spoilt your life."

"No, thanks be to God," was all she said. She could not tell them of
all she had suffered in secret as a child, as a young girl.

But the magistrate must have understood something of what it meant; he
himself had a club-foot, and could not dance. "As to the sentence," he
said, "I hardly know. Really, it should be imprisonment for life, but
... I can't say, perhaps we might get it commuted, second or third
degree, fifteen to twelve years, or twelve to nine. There's a
commission sitting to reform the criminal code, make it more humane,
but the final decision won't be ready yet. Anyhow, we must hope for
the best," said he.

Inger came back in a state of dull resignation; they had not found it
necessary to keep her in confinement meantime. Two months passed; then
one evening, when Isak came back from fishing, the Lensmand and his
new assistant had been to Sellanraa.

Inger was cheerful, and welcomed her husband kindly, praising his
catch, though it was little he had brought home.

"What I was going to say--has any one been here?" he asked.

"Any one been? Why, who should there be?"

"There's fresh footmarks outside. Men with boots on."