Page:The Yellow Book - 08.djvu/325

dragging the river with huge salmon nets, the handiest means they could devise.

"It's for the body," explained the maid, who kept close by the mistress's side; "they'll never find him alive."

Frue Berg groaned again. A great wish was upon her for her husband. She longed to tell him everything, to hold back nothing, to gloss nothing. She sent a man post-haste to Bruvand, where she believed that he would be, to fetch him.

Four miles out of Helga the man, who was mounted on one of the creamy yellow farm ponies, met Berg in the stolkjærre coming homewards. With him was Johanna. The man shouted the dire news out to Berg, who whipped up the companion pony he was driving into a fierce gallop. It was dangerous to drive on so dark a night at speed so terrible, along a rough road, with loose stones everywhere, and deep pools at constant intervals unprotected from the causeway, but Berg was a man who got the utmost out of his cattle with safety. Before he started off, he gave the mounted man directions.

"Go instantly to Ormond's house," he said, "and see if he is there. Say nothing of all this to Madam. Simply inquire of the servant and return with your information. Borrow a horse for the return."

There was a long shawl wrap across his shoulders and Johanna's which he gathered tightly about her and himself, and gave into her hands.

"What can it mean, child?" he whispered as he bent over her to adjust the wrap. His voice was very tender.

"Lars will find him safe enough," she declared calmly. "I passed him and had speech with him an hour since, on the road."

"As we go tell me again. The night is still. I shall hear."

So Johanna retold her tale, and the farmer, tormented as he waswith