"Suppose we go over and speak to him," said Erik.
When they reached the well-sweep, no one was there.
"I know that I saw him only a minute ago. There, I think he is behind that elm-tree. You run this side and I will go the other," said Sigrid.
All escape was cut off this time, and Erik dragged the cowering child from his hiding-place.
"If he isn't a chimney-sweep!" exclaimed Erik when he saw the boy away from the shadow of the tree.
"You needn't be afraid of us, little boy," said Sigrid, kindly. "You can't help it because you have to go down into the chimneys and your face is always black with soot. Don't you want something to eat?"
The sooty youngster grinned and shifted his coil of rope from one shoulder to the other. He managed to murmur, "Thank you." Sigrid ran ahead to the kitchen to get some salt herring, rye bread, and coffee. The little sweep left his long broom and rope on the grass, and began to eat greedily.
"Aren't you ever afraid to go down inside of a pitch-black chimney?" asked Sigrid. Her interest in the dances had waned for a few minutes, for she had never talked with one of these forlorn little creatures before.
The boy shook his head in reply. He was too busy with his salt herring to waste any words.
"I am going to ask mother if she will let him stay here all night," said Sigrid. She did not know that this outcast, who was so shy with her, could take very good care of himself. All summer, he wandered through the country, cleaning chimneys. At night, he slept in strange barns or haymows and was very happy and comfortable.