be unhappy all her life; but just now she could not say what it was. While Petra was talking to the sailor, the dean and Signe were sitting in the dining room, talking about her to whom they were both very much attached. Then the steward came up, and after giving in his report for the day, he asked, if either of them knew, that the young lady living with them went up and down from her room by a rope-ladder at nights. He had to repeat it three times before either of them could conceive what he meant; for he might as well have told them that she went up and down on the moonbeams. It was dark in the room, and now it became perfectly still; not even the sound of the dean's pipe. At length, with a certain dull clink in his voice, he asked: "Who has seen it?"--"I have; I was up attending to the horses, it would be about one o'clock."--"She went down by a rope ladder?"--"And up again."--Again a long silence. Petra occupied the room above, that looked on to the farm yard; she was alone there, no one except her had a room on that side of the house, so there could be no mistake who it was.--"It may have been in her sleep," said the steward about to withdraw.--"She could not make the rope-ladder in her sleep," said the dean.--"No, that was what I thought too, therefore I judged it was best to tell it to him, father; I have not mentioned it to any one else."--"Is there any one that has seen it besides you?"--"No,--but if he, father, doubts the matter, let the rope-ladder itself be the witness; if it is not there, I must have been wrong."--The dean rose up quickly. "Father!" begged Signe.--"Bring a light," said the dean in a way that did not allow of any opposition. Signe lit it herself. "Father!" she begged once more, as she gave it him.--"Yes, I am her father too, as long as she is in my house; it is my duty to look into it,"--he went before with the light, Signe and the steward after.