In the sunshine, the mountain seemed to those approaching it from the sea, to rear itself from the water like an anthill, but the resemblance was spoiled as one came nearer, although its small houses still looked like linen and stockings put out to dry. Close by, it became a curious breeding place for human sea-birds. All the children of the upper classes in the town looked at it with the greatest envy, especially on a day like this, for the flags excited their imagination. Every now and then, heads were turned towards "The Estate." Every pane of glass in the great red-brick building shone in the sunlight, but no flag was hoisted. As late as half-past three, Consul Engel, smoking a cigar, went up to the top attic to see if the flag were hoisted; Emilie was just coming down the attic stairs; she was fully dressed, except that she still wore her _peignoir_. She coloured when she met her father. "What are you doing up here, my child?" "I was looking----" She slipped past him without saying for what. No flag on the tower! The Consul remained there smoking. If there had been a flag without the "Union" to-day it would have been most suitable. From the time it was reported that Tora Holm was at "The Estate" with her child, which report was heard early as Monday morning, an avalanche hung on the mountain ready to overwhelm them. This was the cause of all the Consul's generosity; if any one but asked for more, he gave it. He had had two sleepless nights! Was it true that Rendalen had sent a letter to the old Dean couched in most respectful terms, but in which he said that if this were "peace," it was once more shown that peace belonged to Satan, but that the fight was God's? "What did they contemplate--a scandal?" the whole town was asking. Tora's appearance with her child just now was in itself a sentence--she must have an undaunted conscience; something would certainly happen. There was no answer to this fact: Tora Holm had dared to come here; Rendalen and Fru Rendalen believed in her--_all_ her friends believed in her. All the incidents of Niel's bachelor life were recalled--that is to say, those which related to _that_ part of the country; as a general thing, people would say what a devil of a fellow Niels Fürst was, and stroll away laughing. The laughter ceased now. In Tora's neighbourhood such stories took a different complexion. Some of them seemed absolutely repulsive. And the father-in-law! His past also was brought up again. None of the stories dealt with daring seductions, unexpected, astounding conquests; no open scandal--Heaven forbid! but certain quiet intrigues were known of, often one or two at a time. Expensive presents and small annuities had been heard of as well. They knew of children who passed for his, and who were his living image. It all came up again now; even "indiscretions" of twenty years ago and more, were recalled. Such little provincial towns have pitiless memories.