life so piteously, and two of them would have let her live; but
the third said that all must die, and he thrust his knife into her
heart."

While Elsalill was speaking of murder and blood the three men
stood still before her. They did not exchange a glance with each
other, but their ears grew long with listening, and their eyes
sparkled, and sometimes their lips parted so that the teeth
glistened.

Elsalill's eyes were full of tears; not once did she look up
whilst she was speaking. She did not see that the man before her
had the eyes and teeth of a wolf. Only when she had finished
speaking did she dry her eyes and look up at him.

But when he met Elsalill's glance his face changed in an instant.
"Since you have seen the murderers so well, mistress," said he,
"you would doubtless know them again if you met them?"

"I have no more than seen them by the light of the brands they
snatched from the hearth to light their murdering," said Elsalill;
"but with God's help I'll surely know them again. And I pray to
God daily that I may meet them." "What mean you by that,
mistress?" asked the stranger. "Is it not true that the murderous
vagabonds are dead?"

"Indeed, I have heard so," said Elsalill. "The peasants who set
out after them followed their tracks from the parsonage down to a
hole in the ice. Thus far they saw tracks of sledge-runners upon
the smooth ice, tracks of a horse's hoofs, tracks of men with