“I ought to tell you, though, both your friend and I thought you were going to take service at the vicarage, and so.... And now the weather's broken up, there's no doing more among the timber--and, besides, we've got down all there was to come. Well, now; I've settled with the other man. I don't know if you'd....” I said I would be quite content with the same. “H'm! Your friend and I agreed you ought to have more per day.” Falkenberg had said no word of this to me; it sounded like the Captain's own idea. “I agreed with him we should share alike,” said I. “But you were sort of foreman; of course, you ought to have fifty øre per day extra.” I saw my hesitation displeased him, and let him reckon it out as he pleased. When he gave me the money, I said it was more than I had reckoned with. The Captain answered: “Very pleased to hear it. And I've written a few lines here that might be useful, saying you've worked well the time you were here.” He handed me the paper. A just and kindly man, the Captain. He said nothing now about the idea of laying on water to the house next spring; I took it he'd his reasons for that, and did not like to trouble him. Then he asked: “So you're going off now to work on the railway?” I said I was not quite sure as to that. “Well, well... anyhow, thanks for the time you've been with us.” He moved towards the door. And I, miserable weakling that I was, could not hold myself in check, but asked: “You won't be having any work for me later on, perhaps, in the spring?” “I don't know; we shall see. I ... well, it all depends. If you should happen to be anywhere near, why.... What about that machine of yours?” I ventured to ask if I might leave it on the place. “Certainly,” said the Captain. When he had gone I sat down on the bed. Well, it was all over now. Ay, so it was--and Lord have mercy on us all! Nine o'clock; she is up--she is there in the house I can see from this very window. Well, let me get away and have done with it. I get out my sack and stow away my things, put on my wet jacket over my blouse, and am ready to start. But I sit down again. Emma comes in: “_Værsaagod_; there's something ready for you in the kitchen.” To my horror she had my rug over one arm. “And Fruen told me to ask if this wasn't your rug.” “Mine? No; I've got mine here with my things.” Emma goes off again with the rug. Well, how could I say it was mine? Devil take the rug!... Should I go down to the kitchen or not? I might be able to say good-bye and thanks at the same time--nothing strange in that. Emma came in again with the rug and laid it down neatly folded on a stool. “If you don't hurry up, the coffee'll be cold,” she says. “What did you put that rug there for?” “Fruen told me to.” “Oh, well, perhaps it's Falkenberg's,” I muttered. Emma asks: “Are you going away now for good?” “Yes, seeing you won't have anything to do with me.” “You!” says Emma, with a toss of her head.