"Am I not left deserted in my
age? The child Britta,--sole daughter of my sole daughter,--is she not
stolen, and kept from me? Has not her heart been utterly turned away
from mine? All through that vile witch,--accursed of God and man! She it
is who casts the blight on our land; she it is who makes the hands and
hearts of our men heavy and careless, so that even luck has left the
fishing; and yet you hesitate,--you delay, you will not fulfill your
promise! I tell you, there are those in Bosekop who, at my bidding,
would cast her naked into the Fjord, leave her there, to sink or swim
according to her nature!"
"I know," murmured Ulrika humbly, raising herself slightly from her
kneeling posture; "I know it well! . . . . but, good Lovisa, be patient!
I work for the best! Mr. Dyceworthy will do more for us than we can do
for ourselves; he is wise and cautious--"
Lovisa interrupted her with a fierce gesture. "Fool!" she cried. "What
need of caution? A witch is a witch, burn her, drown her! There is no
other remedy! But two days since, the child of my neighbor Engla passed
her on the Fjord; and now the boy has sickened of some strange disease,
and 'tis said he will die.
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