Maren had at last fallen asleep after all the aching and pain of the
rheumatism in her weary joints, with which she always had to contend at
the beginning of the night. She was awakened by a wild shriek.

"What is it--what is it, Nikolai? Nikolai!"

She lighted the bit of candle. He was sitting up, fencing with his arms.

"I thought they were going to take my head off," he explained, when he
at length collected himself.

When she lay down again, Maren could not help thinking how glad she was
that she had no child to be responsible for. Every one has his trouble,
and now she had this rheumatism.

But it was a shock to her, when, on the kitchen stairs next morning, in
the presence of the servants both from the other side of the passage and
from the first floor, Mrs. Holman called her to account for having
interfered in what was none of her business. She then received such full
information, once for all, both as to why Mrs. Holman had shut him in,
and what they had to go through daily with that boy, that Maren was
completely nonplussed. For this Mrs. Holman could stake her life upon,
that if there was any one in the house who could not stand disorder or
unseemly behaviour, it was she. She could not imagine a worse punishment
than to have it said of her that she allowed shame and depravity to
flourish in her sight.

But when Maren sat down there in the evening by the lantern on the
chopping-block, and could hear the boy screaming right from the Holmans'
room, she was not capable of going upstairs until the worst was over.