If only I could hold the Captain here a bit while he got in! Nils realizes there is no time to be lost--he is already unfastening the harness on the way. Suddenly the Captain looks at me, and asks: “Well, have you lost your tongue?” “'Twas Nils,” I answer then. “Something gone wrong, it looks like; he's taken the horses out.” “Well, and what then?” “Nay, I was only thinking....” But there I stopped. Devil take it, was I to stand there playing the hypocrite? Here was my chance to put in a word for Nils; the next round he would have to manage alone. “It's the spring season now,” I said, “and there's green showing already where we're done. But there's a deal more to do yet, and we....” “Well, and what then--what then?” “There's two and a half acres here, and Nils with hard on three acres of corn land; perhaps Captain might give it another thought.” At that the Captain swung on his heel and left me without a word. “That's my dismissal,” I thought to myself. But I walked up after him with my cart and team, ready to do as he had said. I was in no fear now about Nils; he was close up to the stables by now. The Captain beckoned to him, but without avail. Then “Halt!” he cried, military fashion; but Nils was deaf. When we reached the stables the horses were back in their places already. The Captain was stiff and stern as ever, but I fancied he had been thinking matters over a little on the way. “What have you brought the horses in for now?” he asked. “Plough was working loose,” answered Nils. “I brought them in just while I'm setting it to rights again; it won't take very long.” The Captain raps out his order: “I want a man to drive to the station.” Nils glances at me, and says half to himself: “H'm! So that's it? A nice time for that sort of thing.” “What's that you're muttering about?” “There's two of us and a lad,” says Nils, “for the season's work this spring. 'Tis none so much as leaves any to spare.” But the Captain must have had some inkling as to the two brown horses Nils had been in such a hurry to get in; he goes round patting the animals in turn, to see which of them are warm. Then he comes back to us, wiping his fingers with his handkerchief. “Do you go ploughing with other people's horses, Nils?” Pause. “I'll not have it here; you understand?” “H'm! No,” says Nils submissively. Then suddenly he flares up: “We've more need of horses this spring than any season ever at Øvrebø: we're taking up more ground than ever before. And here were these strange cattle standing here day after day eating and eating, and doing never so much as the worth of the water they drank. So I took them out for a bit of a spell now and then, just enough to keep them in trim.” “I'll have no more of it. You hear what I say?” repeated the Captain shortly. Pause. “Didn't you say one of the Captain's plough horses was ailing yesterday?” I put in. Nils was quick to seize his chance.