The road followed the coast line, rounding all the rocky headlands; they looked forward to the constant changes--from sh.o.r.e to height, from height to sh.o.r.e. On the sea, dark blue to-day, sailing ships and columns of smoke were to be seen, far as the eye could reach. It being Sunday, there were also pleasure-boats out, some gliding about among the islands, others venturing out to the open sea.

At their quick pace, the two young people were soon in the outskirts of the town. They pa.s.sed a pretty little house in a garden.

"Who lives there?" asked Mary, admiring it.

"Miss Roy, the doctor," answered Jorgen, immediately adding: "Our annoyance and disappointment made me forget to tell you that I met Frans Roy in town."

Unconsciously Mary stood still; involuntarily she blushed. "Frans Roy?"

she repeated, looking hard at him--then walked on without waiting for an answer.

"He is here to inspect the operations at the harbour. You know that Irgens is dead."

"The engineer? is he dead?"

"They say now that Captain Roy will probably take his place."

"Is it work for a man like him?"

"Many are no doubt asking the same question--asking what brings him here," laughed Jorgen.

Mary looked at him and he at Mary. Then he went nearer to her. "But now he comes too late."

He had expected an understanding glance in answer--possibly with a little happiness in it. She walked on without looking at him, and without speaking.

They were silent for a long time, walking fast in the refreshing autumn breeze. At last she turned towards him, with the intention of giving him a pleasant surprise.

"Do you know, Jorgen, that Father has two hundred thousand kroner invested in Uncle Klaus's business?"

"He has two hundred and fifty thousand," Jorgen answered.

She was much surprised--in the first place by Jorgen's knowing, in the second, by the fifty thousand.

"Uncle Klaus himself said two hundred thousand."

"Yes, your father has that sum invested in Uncle's ships and commercial enterprises. But lately, before he was taken ill, he sent Uncle fifty thousand more, which he had lying idle."

"How do you know?"

"Uncle told me."

"There is no note of this last sum in father's books."

"No; your father probably did not take the trouble to enter it; he was not in the habit of doing so. Besides"--here Jorgen paused--"are you in possession of all your father's business papers?"

Into this subject Mary would not enter; she knew that the question was a natural one; but how in the world did Jorgen----? Perhaps through Mrs.

Dawes. What he had told her, however, rejoiced her. She stood still; there was something she wanted to say. But the wind caught up her skirts, unloosed some of her hair, and blew about her scarf.

"How perfectly lovely you look!" Jorgen exclaimed.

"But Jorgen--then there is nothing in the way!"

"We can marry, you mean?"

"Yes!" and off she started.

"No, dear. The shares are yielding almost nothing just now."

"What does that matter? We'll risk it, Jorgen!" she cried, radiant with health and courage.

"Without Uncle's consent?" asked Jorgen in a despondent tone.

Mary stood still again. "He would disinherit you?"

Instead of answering directly, Jorgen began mournfully: "I wish you knew, Mary, what I have had to bear from Uncle, from the day he adopted me--the things he has demanded of me, the things he has persecuted me for. To this very day he treats me like a naughty schoolboy. The worst of his bad temper is vented upon me."

The mixture of unhappiness and bitterness depicted on his face led Mary involuntarily to exclaim: "Poor Jorgen--now I begin to understand!"

They walked on. She reflected that Jorgen's power of self-control had been acquired in a hard school; there he had also learned the art of concealment. She could not but admire his tenacity of purpose. What had it not accomplished! Think of his music alone! It, however, had been a great consolation to him. Now she understood his extreme politeness; now she understood his sentimentality; she understood what had made him so exacting and severe with those under his command.

She saw that she herself had probably added to his unhappiness. His long, silent love for her had only been an additional burden; for she had not given him one encouraging word--very much the reverse! What wonder that at last it should have become a kind of possession!

"Poor Jorgen!" she said again, and took his hand.

It was the first token of affection she had bestowed upon him. She had to draw her hand away again immediately to hold down her dress, for a strong wind was blowing at the point, and a sailing-boat was tacking just below them. The people in it waved up to them, and they waved back.

How fresh the air was! How brilliantly blue the fjord!

As they were descending towards the bay, Mary asked: "Do you really believe that Uncle Klaus will disinherit you if we marry?"

"My dear girl, we have nothing to marry on!"

"We can sell these shares," she said undauntedly.

"If we were to sell them at their present price, in order to be able to marry at once, he would be absolutely certain to cut me off."

But Mary would not give in. "There are our woods."

"It will be several years before there is any timber to fell."

How well informed Jorgen was! How carefully he had thought the whole thing out!

They had now reached the stretch of level road which led along the sh.o.r.e to the last headland before Krogskogen. At a farm here there was a surly old Lapland dog. Mary and he were good friends. He always barked a little as people came up; probably he did not see well; but as soon as he scented an acquaintance his tail began to wag.

To-day he was furious.

"Dear me!" exclaimed Mary, "is it you who are making him so angry, Jorgen?"

Jorgen did not answer, but stooped to pick up a small stone. When the dog saw this, he scurried off with his tail between his legs to the shelter of a heap of sticks, and there continued to bark.