"Have they made you captain, husband; you have got a ship? We can go to Holland together, is it not?" Jantje clapped her hands together, and looked at him expectantly. Poor Jantje had never seen her native land since the day she sailed away on board the _Eva Maria_, and still felt strange in Norway, speaking the language with difficulty as she did.

"We're rich, Jantje; we're millionaires, that's what it is."

Jantje turned serious at once; her first thought was that Nils Petter must have taken a drop too much--a thing that rarely happened now since he had been married.

"Don't you think you'd better lie down a little, husband?" she said quietly, pointing to the bedroom.

"Oho, you think I've been drinking? Well, here's the letter from the Justice; you can see for yourself."

Jantje took the letter and studied it intently, but could not make out a word of what it said.

"Your Uncle Peter van Groot died in Java last year, and left millions of gylden, and no children----"

"Praise the Lord!" exclaimed Jantje.

"And all those millions are ours now, seeing we're the nearest heirs since your mother and father died."

"Poor Uncle Pit--kind old Uncle Pit," sighed Jantje, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. Then, rising to her feet, she went on: "If that's all, husband, then I'll go and finish the washing."

"Washing, now? No, you don't, Jantje. Off with you at once and put on the finest you've got: your green dress and the coral brooch."

"But the things will be spoiled in the water, husband."

"Never mind; let them. Hurry up and get dressed now."

Jantje went off to dress, but not before she had slipped out into the wash-house, wrung out the wet things and hung them up to dry.

Nils Petter put on his best blue suit, a starched shirt with collar and cuffs, a black tie and stiff hat.

Then Jantje appeared, wearing her green dress, her face all flushed and aglow with hurrying.

The pair sat for a moment looking at one another.

"Jantje!"

"Yes, husband?"

"What shall we do with it all?"

Such a question from Nils Petter was too much for Jantje all at once.

She looked helplessly round the room as if seeking for somewhere to put it.

"It's a question what to do with any amount of capital these days.

Shipowning's a risky business...." Nils Petter paced up and down thoughtfully.

Then Jantje had an inspiration. "Husband, there's the big clothes-chest, room for lots of money in that." And she hurried out into the pa.s.sage and began dragging out the chest.

"No, no, Jantje; leave it alone. The money'll have to be put in the bank, of course. We can't keep it in the house."

There was a knock at the door. "Come in!" It was Watchmaker Rordam.

"Congratulations, my boy. Grand piece of luck, what? Must be strange-like, to get all that heap of money at once."

"Well, ye-es," said Nils Petter; "it's a trouble to know what to do with one's capital, though; these savings banks pay such a miserable rate of interest." Jantje looked at him in surprise. Why, only a fortnight ago, when he had had to renew a bill at the bank, he had declared loudly against the "pack of Jews" for charging too high a rate.

"You won't forget your old friends, Nils Petter, I hope, now that you've come into a fortune," said Rordam.

"Trust me for that, lad," said Nils Petter. "I haven't forgotten how you helped me out when I was near being sold up; I owe you something for that. Being thankless towards friends that lent a hand when times were hard is a bad mark in the register and the sign of an unseaworthy character, and it shan't be said of Nils Petter Jorgensen." And he gripped Rordam's hand emphatically.

"Well, now, what do you say to a drink?"

"Not for me, thanks," answered Rordam. "I've--I've given it up," he added, not without some reluctance.

"Don't mind if I have one?"

"No, indeed."

"Jantje, give me a drop of Hollands. It's a plaguy business thinking out how to invest big sums of money."

Rordam had never had any experience of that sort of business, but thought he would not mind a little trouble, given the occasion.

Nils Petter drank off his gla.s.s. Rordam stuck to his refusal bravely, which so won Nils Petter's admiration that he bought of the watchmaker a splendid clock, costing five pounds, an elegant piece of work with a marble face and gilt lions above. Furthermore, on leaving, Rordam was given a piece of paper with the following words:

"Mr. Watchmaker Rordam to receive 50--fifty pounds--when I get the legacy.

"N. P. JORGENSEN."

This last was a gratuity, which Nils Petter felt he ought to give for old friendship's sake.

Rordam was delighted; at last he would be able to pay off the many little odd debts that had been worrying him for years past.

Hardly had Rordam gone when Schoolmaster Pedersen came in, bringing a large oleander as a present for Jantje.

Nils Petter and the schoolmaster had never been very friendly, holding different political opinions; Nils Petter especially waxed furious whenever he saw Pedersen's anti-Swedish flag hoisted in the garden. A couple of years ago he had gone in and cut it down, but the matter was, fortunately, smoothed over, Pedersen being an easy-going man, while his wife and Jantje were very good friends.

"I just looked in, my dear Jorgensen, to see if you'd any use for a secretary. A man in your position, of course, will have any amount of writing and bookkeeping work, and you know I'd be glad to make a little extra myself."

Nils Petter was not much of a scholar. The few occasions when he had to use a pen caused him no little difficulty; his big, unaccustomed fingers gripped the pen-holder as if it were a crowbar.

"Why, I dare say I might.... And what would you want a year for that?"

"I'd leave that to you."

"Would 200 be enough?"

Pedersen jumped up in delight and almost embraced Nils Petter. "It's too much, Jorgensen, really."

"It won't be too much; there'll be a deal of work to do. But I forgot, one thing you'll have to do: get rid of that beastly flag of yours."

Pedersen turned serious. "The Norwegian flag is our national emblem, and that alone. As a true patriot, I must stand by my convictions.