he caught him by the bridle and forced him to stand still. "Cease
your obstinacy, Torarin!" said the man. "Herr Arne is not yet gone
to bed, he sits waiting for you. And you should know full well
that you can have as good a night's lodging here as anywhere in
the parish."

Torarin was about to answer that he could not be served with
lodging in a roofless house. But before speaking he raised his
eyes to the dwelling house, and then he saw that the old timber
hall stood unharmed and stately as before the fire. And yet that
very morning Torarin had seen the naked rafters thrusting out into
the air.

He looked and looked and rubbed his eyes, but there was no doubt
of it, the parsonage stood there unharmed, with thatch and snow
upon its roof. He saw smoke and sparks streaming up through the
louver, and rays of light gleaming through the illclosed shutters
upon the snow.

A man who travels far and wide on the cold highway knows no better
sight than the gleam that steals out of a warm room. But the sight
made Torarin even more terrified than before. He whipped up his
horse till he reared and kicked, but not a step would he go from
the stable door.

"Come in with me, Torarin!" said the groom. "I thought you had
enough remorse already over this business."

Then Torarin remembered the promise he had made himself on the
road and, though a moment before he had stood up and lashed his