"I want to tell you something, damn you--you don't understand your own welfare! You are a fool, you are killing her--that will be the end of it. And you are doing your very best to go the same way yourself--don't you think I see it? 'That is all right'--so it is all right for her to steal down to me when darkness falls and ask about you and the children with the tears dripping from her eyes? Do you for a moment imagine it is for _your_ sake I have been inquiring about your health these last months? Why should I ask if not for her? You personally can go to the devil as far as I am concerned. You say nothing; you cannot understand that she is wearing her heart away for you. I saw her outside your office once at midnight, saying good night to you and to the children. She wept and blew kisses to Johanna and Ida; she tiptoed up-stairs and caressed the door-knob because your hand had held it a moment before. I have seen this several times from the corner. I suppose you will say that 'that is all right,' too; for your heart must be petrified--Well, perhaps I shouldn't say that your heart is exactly petrified," added Ole repentantly when at last he noticed Tidemand's terrible face. "But you need not expect any apology from me, either. You are hardened; that's what you are! I tell you, Hanka wants to come back!" Pause. "I wish to God she wanted to come back--I mean--Back, you say? But how? Do you know what has happened? I do. I have wanted to go to Hanka and beg her to come back--beg her on my knees, if necessary; but how would she come back--how would she come back? She told me herself--Of course, it is nothing much; you mustn't think it is anything bad, anything very bad; don't think that of Hanka. But, anyway, I am not so sure that she wants to come back. From where have you got that idea?" "Well, perhaps I ought not to have tried to interfere," said Ole. "But think of it anyway, Andreas; and pardon my violence; I take it all back. I don't know how it is; I am getting to be so hot-tempered lately. But think it over. And let us be ready in an hour or so." "So she still asks for the children," said Tidemand. "Think of that!" VIII Ole Henriksen stood in his office a few days later. It was in the afternoon, about three; the weather was clear and calm; the docks were busy as ever. Ole walked over to the window and looked out. An enormous coal-steamer was gliding in from the fiord; masts and rigging pointed skyward everywhere; cargoes were being unloaded along the wharves. Suddenly he started; the yacht was gone! He opened his eyes wide. Among all the hundreds of mastheads none were golden.