There came many sorts of times. Inger must have changed her mind again, it seemed; once more she was different, gradually forgetting her fine ways and turning earnest anew: a settler's wife, earnest and thoughtful as she had been before. To think that a man's hard grip could work such wonders! But it was right; here was a strong and healthy woman, sensible enough, but spoiled and warped by long confinement in an artificial air--and she had butted into a man who stood firmly on his feet. Never for a moment had he left his natural place on the earth, on the soil. Nothing could move him. Many sorts of times. Next year came the drought again, killing the growth off slowly, and wearing down human courage. The corn stood there and shrivelled up; the potatoes--the wonderful potatoes--they did not shrivel up, but flowered and flowered. The meadows turned grey, but the potatoes flowered. The powers above guided all things, no doubt, but the meadows were turning grey. Then one day came Geissler--ex-Lensmand Geissler came again at last. It was good to find that he was not dead, but had turned up again. And what had he come for now? Geissler had no grand surprises with him this time, by the look of it; no purchases of mining rights and documents and such-like. Geissler was poorly dressed, his hair and beard turned greyer, and his eyes redder at the edges than before. He had no man, either, to carry his things, but had his papers in a pocket, and not even a bag. "_Goddag_" said Geissler. "_Goddag_" answered Isak and Inger. "Here's the like of visitors to see this way!" Geissler nodded. "And thanks for all you did that time--in Trondhjem," said Inger all by herself. And Isak nodded at that, and said: "Ay, 'tis two of us owe you thanks for that." But Geissler--it was not his way to be all feelings and sentiments; he said: "Yes, I'm just going across to Sweden." For all their trouble of mind over the drought, Sellanraa's folk were glad to see Geissler again; they gave him the best they had, and were heartily glad to do what they could for him after all he had done. Geissler himself had no troubles that could be seen; he grew talkative at once, looked out over the fields and nodded. He carried himself upright as ever, and looked as if he had several hundreds of _Daler_ in his pockets. It livened them up and brightened everything to have him there; not that he made any boisterous fun, but a lively talker, that he was. "Fine place, Sellanraa, splendid place," he said. "And now there's others coming up one after another, since you've started, Isak. I counted five myself. Are there any more?" "Seven in all. There's two that can't be seen from the road." "Seven holdings; say fifty souls. Why, it'll be a densely populated neighbourhood before long. And you've a school already, so I hear?" "Ay, we have."