The Treasure | Page 5

rather there are none but you," said the man. "You cannot call me
a tenant. I am only a poor charcoal-burner whom you have allowed to
settle on your land."
The man seated himself beside Torarin and they began to converse. The
newcomer told Torarin how it was he came so late to the feast. It was
because their cabin had been visited by three strangers whom they durst
not leave, three journeymen tanners who had been with them all day.
When they came in the morning they were worn out and ailing; they
said they had lost their way in the forest and had wandered about for a
whole week. But after they had eaten and slept they soon recovered
their strength, and when evening came they had asked which was the
greatest and richest house thereabout, for thither they would go and
seek for work. The wife had answered that the parsonage, where Herr
Arne dwelt, was the best place. Then at once they had taken long
knives out of their packs and begun to sharpen them. They were at this
a good while, with such ferocious looks that the charcoal-burner and
his wife durst not leave their home. "I can still see them as they sat
grinding their knives," said the man. "They looked terrible with their
great beards that had not been cut or tended for many a day, and they
were clad in rough coats of skin, which were tattered and befouled. I
thought I had three werewolves in the house with me, and I was glad
when at last they took themselves off."
When Torarin heard this he told the charcoal-burner what he himself
had witnessed at the parsonage.
"So it was true enough that this night they whetted knives at

Branehog," said Torarin, laughing. He had drunk deeply, because of the
sorrow and heaviness that were upon him when he came, seeking to
comfort himself as best he could. "Now I am of good cheer again," said
he, "since I am well assured it was no evil omen the parson's lady heard,
but only these tanners making ready their gear."
IV
Long after midnight a couple of men came out of the house at
Branehog to harness their horses and drive home.
When they had come into the yard they saw a great fire flaring up
against the sky in the north. They hastened back into the house and
cried out: "Come out! Come out! Solberga parsonage is on fire!"
There were many folks at the feast, and those who had a horse leapt
upon his back and made haste to the parsonage; but those who had to
run with their own swift feet were there almost as soon.
When the people came to the parsonage nobody was to be seen, nor
was there any sign of movement; all seemed to be asleep, though the
flames rose high into the air.
Yet it was none of the houses that burned, but a great pile of wood and
straw and faggots that had been stacked against the wall of the old
dwelling. It had not been burning long. The flames had done no more
than blacken the sound timber of the wall and melt the snow on the
thatched roof. But now they had begun to take hold of the thatch.
Everyone saw at once that this was arson. They began to wonder
whether Herr Arne and his wife were really asleep, or whether some
evil had befallen them.
But before the rescuers entered the house they took long poles and
pulled away the burning faggots from the wall and clambered up to the
roof to tear off the thatch, which had begun to smoke and was ready to
catch fire.

Then some of the men went to the door of the house to enter and call
Herr Arne; but when the first man came to the threshold he turned aside
and made way for him who came next.
The second man took a step forward, but as he was about to grasp the
door-handle he turned away and made room for those who stood behind
him.
It seemed a ghastly door to open, for a broad stream of blood trickled
over the threshold and the handle was besmeared with blood.
Then the door opened in their faces and Herr Arne's curate came out.
He staggered toward the men with a deep wound in his head, and he
was drenched with blood. For an instant he stood upright and raised his
hand to command silence. Whereupon he spoke with the death rattle in
his voice: "This night Herr Arne and all his household have been
murdered by three men who climbed down through the smoke-hole in
the roof and were clad in rough skins. They threw