through the window, pieces of glass rattled, stones whirled about the room, and she crept back to her corner. The sweat rolled from her as though she stood in the hottest sun; but she no longer wept, she was no longer afraid.
Gradually the tumult subsided. Petra stole forth, and as soon as the last sound had died away she ventured to the window to look out; but she trod on bits of broken glass and started back, then she stepped on stones and stood still that she might not be heard; for now was the time to steal away. After having waited fully half an hour, she drew off her shoes and taking up her bundle, softly opened the door. Again she paused about five minutes, and then went quietly down the stairs. It caused her deep pain to go from the mother on whom she had brought all this sorrow, without taking leave of her; but terror hunted her onward.
“Farewell, mother! Farewell, mother!” she whispered to herself with every step she took on the stairs. “Farewell, mother!”
She reached the bottom, panted heavily several times for breath, then moved toward the front door. As she reached it a hand seized her from behind; she uttered a faint cry and turned. There stood her mother. Gunlaug had heard her daughter’s door open, knew at
