"The new-comer, you know? Not stirring yet, I suppose?"
"New-comer?"
"Well, guest, friend, whatever you choose to call him."
"What friend?"
"Why, the friend who came last night, of course."
Anna, who had never lied in her life, wanted to lie now, but she could not do so. "I don't understand you, Factor," she said faintly.
"Well!" said the Factor, and then, as if by an afterthought, "I thought he wouldn't wish to startle you, having been so long away and supposed to be dead. But don't you know yet who he is?"
Anna trembled and said, "Of whom are you speaking, Oscar Neilsen?"
"Of the tall fair man with the pointed beard who came to lodge at your house last night."
Anna was now speechless with terror, and the company, misunderstanding her silence, became suddenly very grave. "Can it be possible that he lost his way in the snowstorm?" said one. "But he knew every inch of the road, and could find his way blindfold," said another. "Such a night, though," said a third. "He got as far as the House of Rest." "But the boy there said he would never see the end of his journey."