Grindhusen finishes his painting the following afternoon, but agrees to go on cutting wood till six o'clock to make up a full day's work. I get out Gunhild's boat and go off fishing, so as not to be there when he leaves. I catch no fish, and it is cold sitting in the boat; I look at my watch again and again. At last, about seven o'clock: he must be gone by now, I say to myself, and I row home. Grindhusen has got over to the mainland, and calls across to me from there: _“Farvel!”_ Something thrilled me warmly at the word; it was like a calling from my youth, from Skreia, from days a generation gone. I row across to him and ask: “Can you dig that well all alone?” “No. I'll have to take another man along.” “Take me,” I said. “Wait for me here, while I go up and settle at the house.” Half-way up I heard Grindhusen calling again: “I can't wait here all night. And I don't believe you meant it, anyway.” “Wait just a minute. I'll be down again directly.” And Grindhusen sets himself down on the beach to wait. He knows I've some of that first-rate _Brændevin_ still left. IV We came to the vicarage on a Saturday. After much doubting, Grindhusen had at last agreed to take me as his mate. I had bought provisions and some working clothes, and stood there now, in blouse and high boots, ready to start work. I was free and unknown; I learned to walk with a long, slouching stride, and for the look of a laboring man, I had that already both in face and hands. We were to put up at the vicarage itself, and cook our food in the brew-house across the yard. And so we started on our digging. I did my share of the work, and Grindhusen had no fault to find with me as a work-mate. “You'll turn out a first-rate hand at this, after all,” he said. Then after we'd been working a bit, the priest came out to look, and we took off our hats. He was an oldish man, quiet and gentle in his ways and speech; tiny wrinkles spread out fanwise from the corners of his eyes, like the traces of a thousand kindly smiles. He was sorry to interrupt, and hoped we wouldn't mind--but they'd so much trouble every year with the fowls slipping through into the garden. Could we leave the well just for a little, and come round and look at the garden wall? There was one place in particular.... Grindhusen answered: surely; we'd manage that for him all right. So we went up and set the crumbling wall to rights. While we were busy there a young lady came out and stood looking on. We greeted her politely, and I thought her a beautiful creature to see. Then a half-grown lad came out to look, and asked all sorts of questions. The two were brother and sister, no doubt. And the work went on easily enough with the young folk there looking on. Then evening came. Grindhusen went off home, leaving me behind. I slept in the hayloft for the night.