She was in the churchyard again the following evening, and a thought of high conceit flew suddenly into my mind: it was myself she came to see! But, watching her more closely, I saw that she was busy, doing something about a grave, so it was not me she had come for. I stole away up to the big ant-heap in the wood and watched the insects as long as I could see; afterwards, I sat listening to the falling cones and clusters of rowan berries. I hummed a tune, and whispered to myself and thought; now and again I had to get up and walk a little to get warm. The hours passed, the night came on, and I was so in love I walked there bare-headed, letting myself be stared out of all countenance by the stars. “How's the time?” Grindhusen might ask when I came back to the barn. “Just gone eleven,” I would say, though it might be two or three in the morning. “Huh! And a nice time to be coming to bed. _Fansmagt!_ Waking folk up when they've been sleeping decently!” And Grindhusen turns over on the other side, to fall asleep again in a moment. There was no trouble with Grindhusen. Eyah, it's over-foolish of a man to fall in love when he's getting on in years. And who was it set out to show there _was_ a way to quiet and peace of mind? X A man came out for his bricklayer's tools; he wanted them back. What? Then Grindhusen had not stolen them at all! But it was always the same with Grindhusen: commonplace, dull, and ordinary, never great in anything, never a lofty mind. I said: “You, Grindhusen, there's nothing in you but eat and sleep and work. Here's a man come for those tools now. So you only borrowed them; that's all you're good for. I wouldn't be you for anything.” “Don't be a fool,” said Grindhusen. He was offended now, but I got him round again, as I had done so many times before, by pretending I had only spoken in jest. “What are we to do now?” he asked. “You'll manage it all right,” said I. “Manage it--will I?” “Yes, or I am much mistaken.” And Grindhusen was pacified once more. But at the midday rest, when I was cutting his hair, I put him out of temper once again by suggesting he should wash his head. “A man of your age ought to know better than to talk such stuff,” he said. And Heaven knows but he may have been right. His red thatch of hair was thick as ever, for all he'd grandchildren of his own.... Now what was coming to that barn of ours? Were spirits about? Who had been in there one day suddenly and cleaned the place and made all comfortable and neat? Grindhusen and I had each our own bedplace; I had bought a couple of rugs, but he turned in every night fully dressed, with all he stood up in, and curled himself up in the hay all anyhow. And now here were my two rugs laid neatly, looking for all the world like a bed. I'd nothing against it; 'twas one of the maids, no doubt, setting to teach me neat and orderly ways. 'Twas all one to me.