"When he had spoken, all was silent again. We shuddered, and could not ask nor speak a word. But the stranger seemed to feel that when he had said so much, he must go on.
"'They say it all comes of an old story,' he said. 'In the old days, the men of Hånger were proud and rich, and would submit to none, and often they were at feud with the priests. And once it seems that one of them killed a priest in a fit of jealousy. But it was never found out who had done it. The crime was never atoned, and for the sake of that sin, it has been so ever since, that all the men from Hånger must die a violent death, by their own hand or another's.'
"'But surely that can't be,' said mother. 'That the innocent should suffer for the guilty, no.'
"It happens, for all that, and none so rarely to my mind,' said the man. 'It's not easy to say how it's managed about that. But there was a woman there at Hånger, mother to him that had murdered the priest. And they say she knew all about it, and helped the son to dig a grave under one of the gateposts and long after he was dead she used to sit watching the spot, that no one should pull it up or break it down or put another post in its place. She moved down into the little room above the store-cellar, that was closer to the gate, and there she would sit watching night and day, and some say she's watching there still. And Hånger's passed from our family now, and the trollfolk of Hånger are scattered about all parts, but it seems that all of her blood can still see her. She follows us, folk say, and sees that never one of us escapes the penalty of that crime.'
"But mother would not give in.
"'It can't be that this should go on,' she said. 'There must be something you could do to make an end of it?'
"'True,' said the man. 'And there's those that have tried. Two of us there were that thought it would be well if they themselves became priests. But I don't know if the old lady found that to her mind. One of them died when he was still young—the other is still alive.'
"I was getting more and more frightened now, and, putting together all that had passed, I knew well enough what answer I should get when I put my question.
"'And is his name Rhånge?' I asked.
"'But—heavens, child!' cried mother.