Har quietly spent that evening in his hut. He was sad, and Lara tried to console him. But he would have none of it. He cursed the gods as he went to bed where he spent the night without sleep.
Toward midnight he was falling into a slumber but was suddenly awakened by a noise. He looked up. It came from outside of his window. The branches of the lilac bush cracked, and its dry leaves began to rustle. The window was opened, and someone climbed in. Har was shaken out of his wits. He recognized the build. In spite of the darkness, he knew who it was. The form approached him slowly, then got into bed beside him. The boy trembled but did not dare to move. His cheek was stroked by a cold hand. Oh, so cold, so cold. Shivers raced down his back. His warm quivering lips were kissed by ones that were icy. The youth could feel the wet clothing of his beloved, and he could see his hair hanging over his forehead. Fear seized him, but it was mingled with joy. The form sighed as if to say, "A yearning drove me here to you. I have found no peace in my grave."
Har dared not to utter a word, let alone to breathe. Then Manor stood up and whispered, "I must return now." He climbed through the window and left just as he had arrived.
"That was Manor," Har whispered to himself.
The very same night there was a fisherman from Stroemoe rowing in the strait. The sea was glimmering. Little sparks seemed to radiate from his oars. Then, shortly before midnight, he heard some strange sounds. He saw something shoot across the sparkling water. He could not distinguish the form, because it moved with the swiftness of a large fish. But, in spite of the darkness, he knew it was not a fish.
Manor returned the next evening. He was as icy cold as the previous visit and was more demanding. He embraced the boy, kissed his cheeks and his lips, then placed his head on Har's tender chest. Har shook with terror. His heart pounded in his breast thus embraced.
Manor lay his head on the spot where Har's breast pounded. His chilly lips serched the soft swollen chest above Har's heart. His entire chest throbbed to the beat of his heart. Manor began to suck his teat, filled with yearning and thirstily, like an infant at its mother's breast. However, before much time had passed, he discontinued, raised himself and left. Har felt as if an animal had sucked him dry.
On this evening, too, the fisherman was busy in the strait. At exactly the same time as the previous night he heard similar sounds. But, this time they came much closer. In the pale light of the moon he recognized the swimmer as a man. He was swimming in the manner of a sailor, on his right side, but he was wearing the clothes of the dead. It seemed as if the swimmer was looking right through him, because his face was turned toward him. He was swimming with his eyes shut. The sight so estranged the fisherman