Lisbeth picked herself up and started to go after her charge; but, if you please, as soon as she came near enough and tried to seize Crookhorn, away would that naughty goat dart, not galloping as a goat usually does, but trotting like a cow or an elk. She trotted by the house and turned off on the road leading to Svehaugen Farm. Lisbeth pursued swiftly; but, run as she might, she could not gain upon Crookhorn. At last, stumbling over a stone, the little girl fell at full length, having barely time, while falling, to look up and catch a glimpse of Crookhorn's back as the goat, trotting swiftly, disappeared over the brow of a hill.
There was no other way out of it,—Lisbeth would have to run home and get her mother to help her. This she did, and they both set out in full chase. It was a long run, for they did not overtake Crookhorn until they had reached the Svehaugen gate. There stood the goat gazing unconcernedly through the palings. She evidently felt herself superior to jumping over fences,—she who imagined herself to be a cow!
Randi had become much overheated from running, and at night, when she went to bed, she said she felt cold and shivery. That seemed very strange indeed to Lisbeth, for when she laid her face against her mother's neck, it was as hot as a burning coal.
In the morning Lisbeth's mother woke her and told her to get up and go over to Kari Svehaugen's and ask Kari to come to Peerout Castle. Randi felt so poorly that there was no use in her even trying to get up. She was not able.
Not able to get up! That also seemed very strange to Lisbeth, for never before had she seen her mother with cheeks so red and eyes so shining. The child did not say anything, however, but got up, dressed herself quickly and quietly, and ran off to Svehaugen.
After that there came several wonderful days at Peerout Castle. When Lisbeth Longfrock thought about them afterward, they seemed like a single long day in which a great many things had happened that she could not separate from one another and set in order. In her remembrance it was as if shadows had glided to and fro in an ugly yellow light, while the sound of a heavy, painful breathing was constantly heard, penetrating all other sounds.
She seemed dimly to see Kari Svehaugen gliding about and taking care of things in the home and out in the cow house. She herself had climbed a birch tree several times and picked leaf buds for the animals to eat. One day Lars Svehaugen had flitted along the road in front of the house, swiftly, as if he had not a moment to spare. Soon after this, some one dressed in furs and with big boots on came driving to the house, and all the neighbors flocked around him, listening to what he said. And he brought such a curious smell with him! It filled the whole house, so that, even after he had gone away, he seemed to be still there.
She thought, too, that once she had seen Kjersti Hoel sitting on a chair, taking many good things out of a big basket, and Jacob standing by Kjersti's side with a great slice of raisin cake in his hand. And Jacob had kept chewing and chewing on his raisin cake, as if it was hard work to get it down. What she remembered chiefly, though, was Jacob's eyes,—they looked so big and strange.
Then one morning she had awakened in a clear gray light, and from that time she remembered everything very distinctly. She was lying in the little trundle-bed that Jacob had slept in when he lived at home,—she must, of course, have slept in it all these nights,—and Kari Svehaugen was standing beside it, looking down upon her. The house was oh! so still,—she did not hear the heavy, painful breathing any longer. The only sound was a slight crackling in the fireplace, out of which a stream of warmth issued.
Kari said very quietly: "Your mother is comfortable and happy now, little Lisbeth; better off than she has ever been before. So you must not cry."