While Lotta stood there terrified, listening to the retreating footsteps, the lad and the maids in the kitchen had likewise heard the noise, and sprung up from their seats. And now they saw their young mistress come staggering in toward them, her hair and dress in disorder, and the blood flowing from a cut on her forehead. All four hurried to her, but she waved them off impatiently.
"Never mind about me," she cried. "Hurry after my husband and—the other one. Quick, and look after them before they kill each other."
The four stood still, too confused to act on her orders, and she cried excitedly:
"Don't sit there staring at me! After them, before they kill each other!"
At this the lad hurried out, and the milkmaid, a big strong girl, followed after him, but the two others stayed in the kitchen to look to their mistress.
They brought forward a chair and begged her to sit down, for she was trembling as if the floor were swaying under her.
Her strength was at an end now, and she fell to crying like a child.
"Help me over to Lotta Hedman," she cried. "Help me over to Lotta."
The two servants took her under the arms and led her across the courtyard to Lotta's room.
And Lotta, standing in the doorway, saw them coming, and hurried forward to meet Sigrun. She led her to the wicker chair that had been waiting for her all the evening.