She observed him carefully. His clothes were threadbare, his face had become thinner, and she wondered suddenly if he were in want. Why had he left the hotel, and where did he live? He said something about a friend, a college chum--honest, a teacher, a splendid fellow. Aagot asked when he was going back to Torahus, but he did not know exactly; he was unable to say. As long as he had this library work and was so busy.... Well, he simply must promise to come before he went away; she insisted. And she asked suddenly: "When I saw you on the seventeenth, didn't you have a bow in your buttonhole?" Certainly, he had a bow; one had to show the colours on such a day! Didn't she remember that she had given it to him herself? She had wanted him to be decorated last year, when he was going to speak to the peasants at Torahus, and she had given him the bow. Didn't she remember? Aagot recalled it. She asked: "Was it really the same bow?" "Yes; isn't it strange? I happened to come across it; I must have brought it along with some clothes; I found it by accident." "Imagine! I thought at once it was my bow. It made me glad; I don't know why," she said and bowed her head. Irgens shouted and asked her if she were coming. "No!" she called bluntly and without thinking. She did not even turn her head. But when she realised how she had answered she grew confused and cried to Irgens: "Pardon me just a moment!" And she turned to Coldevin again: "I would have loved to stay and talk with you, but I have no time; I am going to the island." She offered Coldevin her hand and said: "Anyway, I hope everything will turn out for the best; don't you think it will, too? I am sorry to have to hurry off. So long; be sure and come up soon!" She skipped down the steps and into the boat. Again she apologised for keeping Irgens waiting. And Irgens rowed out. They talked about the sea, the far journeys, the strange countries; he had been abroad only in his dreams, and he supposed that would be the extent of his travellings. He looked sad and listless. Suddenly he said: "I hear you are not going to the country after all." "No. The Tidemands have changed their plans." "So I am told. It is a pity; I am sorry for your sake, in a way." And, resting on his oars, he added bluntly: "But I am glad for my own sake; I admit it frankly." Aagot skipped up the stone jetty when they landed. The trees delighted her; it was ages since she had seen a real forest--such great big trees, just like home. She sniffed the pungent, pine-laden air, she looked at stones and flowers with a feeling of recognition; memories from home surged through her, and she was for an instant on the verge of tears. "But here are other people!" she exclaimed suddenly. Irgens laughed: "What did you expect? This is not a jungle, exactly."