"My dear little daughter must get better as fast as ever she can," he said. "She must eat more and if she wants anything she must ask for it and she shall have it, whatever it is."
She tried to say that all she wanted was her little baby, and if they would give her that she would soon be well, but her throat was hurting and she could not speak.
Her own father came last, smelling of breakfast and strong tobacco, and he rallied her in a loud voice.
"Tut, tut! This will never do! We'll have to send you away again, with Helga to look after you. And look here, young lady, you've got to get better soon and come and carry away that baby. She's turning our house upside down. Nobody over there can see the sun for that little mite, and Aunt Margret and Auntie Helga haven't a thought for anybody else."
By this time the conviction had forced itself upon Thora's mind that the family had agreed that the child was not to be returned to her, and that Helga was responsible for this cruel resolution. Then a fierce passion took possession of her, such as she had never known before. She hated her sister with a terrible hatred. Helga, who had first robbed her of her husband, had now robbed her of her child, and throwing dust in her people's eyes had used her weakness as an excuse and a blind. But she would defeat her, she would defeat everybody, she would get back her child whatever the consequences, and not all the powers of earth or heaven or hell should take it away from her again.
The intensity of her feeling, if it could have been realized by those about her, would have made her sweet and gentle soul unrecognizable. She was like a feline animal robbed of its young and going out to recover it. All the other passions and emotions that had ever possessed her--love of her husband, affection for Anna and Aunt Margret and her father and the Governor, pity for Magnus and tenderness toward all living things--were burnt up by the one consuming desire--the desire for her child. It made her terrible, it made her cruel, it made her cunning.
Thora determined to steal back her own child.
The following day--the day of the Proclamation--would give her an opportunity of doing so. Nearly everybody would then be at Thingvellir, therefore her path would be more clear. Only Anna would stay at home to attend to herself, and Aunt Margret to attend to the child. Her one feverish anxiety was that Oscar should not stay behind as well, for if Oscar were to remain Helga would remain also and then her scheme would come to naught.
Thora lay awake the whole night through. Before daybreak she heard the people shouting in the darkness; at dawn she heard the departure of the Governor, and when Oscar called up at her window she knew that Helga was with him, for she heard the hoofs of two horses.
When everybody had gone she lay back on her pillow with a sigh of immense relief.