"Yes, yes! how soon she died! Bravely, bravely done! And no one ever guessed the truth—no one ever knew I killed her!"
Güldmar uttered a sharp cry, and shook himself free from her touch. In the same instant his hand flew to the hilt of the hunting-knife in his girdle.
"Killed her! By the gods—"
Ulrika sprang before him. "Shame!" she cried sternly. "She is dying!"
"Too slowly for me!" exclaimed the bonde furiously.
"Peace—peace!" implored Ulrika. "Let her speak!"
"Strike, Olaf Güldmar!" said Lovisa, in a deep voice, harsh, but all untremulous—"Strike, pagan, with whom the law of blood is supreme—strike to the very center of my heart—I do not fear you! I killed her, I say—and therein I, the servant of the Lord, was justified! Think you that the Most High hath not commanded His elect to utterly destroy and trample underfoot their enemies?—and is not vengeance mine as well as thine, accursed slave of Odin?"
A spasm of pain here interrupted her—she struggled violently for breath—and Ulrika supported her. Güldmar stood motionless, white with restrained fury, his eyes blazing. Recovering by slow degrees, Lovisa once more spoke—her voice was weaker, and sounded a long way off.
"Yea, the Lord hath been on my side!" she said, and the hideous blasphemy rattled in her throat as it was uttered. "Listen—and hear how He delivered mine enemy into my hands. I watched her always—I followed her many and many a time, though she never saw me. I knew her favorite path across the mountains,—it led past a rocky chasm. On the edge of that chasm there was a broad, flat stone, and there she would sit often, reading, or watching the fishing-boats on the Fjord, and listening to the prattle of her child. I used to dream of that stone, and wonder if I could loosen it! It was strongly imbedded in the earth—but each day I went to it—each day I moved it! Little by little I worked—till a mere touch would have set it hurling downwards,—yet it looked as firm as ever." Güldmar uttered a fierce ejaculation of anguish—he put one hand to his throat as though he were stifling. Lovisa, watching him, smiled vindictively, and continued—
"When I had done all I could do, I lay in wait for her, hoping and praying—my hour came at last! It was a bright sunny morning—a little bird had been twittering above the very place—as it flew away, she approached—a book was in her hand,—her child followed her at some little distance off. Fortune favored me—a cluster of pansies had opened their blossoms a few inches below the stone,—she saw them,—and, light as a bird, sprang on it and reached forward to gather them—ah!"—and the wretched woman clapped her hands and broke into malignant laughter—"I can hear her quick shriek now—the crash of the stones and the crackle of branches as she fell down,—down to her death! Presently the child came running,—it was too young to understand—it sat down patiently waiting for its mother. How I longed to kill it! but it sang to itself like the bird that had flown away, and I could not! But she was gone—she was silent for ever—the Lord be praised for all His mercies! Was she smiling, Olaf Güldmar, when you found her—dead?"