Paaker started, and then said with apparent composure: "Is it you, mother?
It is near morning, and it is better to be asleep than awake in such an hour." "I could not rest in my rooms," answered Setchem.

"The storm howled so wildly, and I am so anxious, so frightfully unhappy--as I was before your father died." "Then stay with me," said Paaker affectionately, "and lie down on my couch." "I did not come here to sleep," replied Setchem.

"I am too unhappy at all that happened to you on the larding-steps, it is frightful! No, no, my son, it is not about your smashed hand, though it grieves me to see you in pain; it is about the king, and his anger when he hears of the quarrel.

He favors you less than he did your lost father, I know it well.

But how wildly you smile, how wild you looked when I came in! It went through my bones and marrow." Both were silent for a time, and listened to the furious raging of the storm.