“Yes. Cook's going to listen for the bell. You know, I side with the Captain,” she declared. “I've sided with him all along.” “Oh, that's only because he's a man.” “No, it's not.” “You'd much better side with Fruen.” “You only say that because she's a woman,” answered Ragnhild in her turn. “But you don't know all I do. Fruen's so unreasonable. We didn't care a bit about her, she said, and left her all to herself, whatever might happen. Did you ever hear such a thing, when I'd just gone after her. And then there's another dreadful thing....” “I don't want to hear any more,” I said. “But I haven't been listening outside--what are you thinking of? I was there in the same room, and heard them.” “Did you? Well, well, stay here till you've calmed down a little; then we'll go and find Nils.” And so frightened and tender was Ragnhild that she threw her arms round me because I was kind to her. A strange girl! Then we went down to Nils. “Ragnhild thinks that somebody ought to keep awake for a bit,” I said. “Yes,” said Ragnhild. “Oh, it's so dreadful--worse than ever it's been! Heaven knows what the Captain'll do! Perhaps he won't go to bed at all. Oh, she's fond of him and he's fond of her, too; only, everything's all wrong! When she went running off like that today, the Captain was standing outside the house, and said to me: 'Go and look after your mistress, Ragnhild,' and I went after her, and there she was, standing behind a tree down the road, and she just stood there, crying, and smiled at me. I tried to get her to come in again, but she said we didn't care about her; it didn't matter where she went. 'The Captain sent me after you,' said I. 'Did he, though?' she asked. 'Now? Was it just now?' 'Yes,' said I. 'Wait, then,' she said, and stood quite a while. 'Take those hateful books that are lying in my room and burn them,' she said; and then: 'Oh no, I'll do it myself, but I'll ring for you after supper, and then you must come up at once.' 'I will,' said I, and then I got her to come in.” “And you know,” said Ragnhild suddenly, “she's going to have a child.” We looked at one another. Nils' face grew, as it were, veiled beneath a film of something indistinct. All expression faded, the eyes asleep. But why should it affect him so? For the sake of saying something, I turned to Ragnhild and asked: “Fruen was going to ring for you, you said?”