he was in the right, and with some effort he succeeded.

A week had passed since the conversation with Madame Torvestad, and
during this time Hans Nilsen had examined himself closely. He came to
the conclusion that if he had been drawn to Sarah by any earthly
feeling, the disappointment must needs have caused him grievous pain.

That he did not feel some grievous pain, he was not prepared to say.
He would have been exceedingly happy if all had gone as he wished;
but now that he was near Sarah, and felt no unusual desire either to
approach her or to fly from temptation, he was satisfied that his
thoughts were pure, and he began to feel more at peace with himself,
although somewhat depressed.

But that letter which had arrived to-day, and the evident suspicion
which had lurked behind Sivert Jespersen's words, and his own
feelings when he listened to Sarah's singing! All his doubts broke
out afresh, and as he sat on his small hard sofa, when the evening
shades began to fall, tumultuous feelings arose, and thoughts
hitherto strange to him arose in his mind, accusing and answering
each other.

Why did he not depart and obey the call, journeying from cottage to
cottage throughout the dark winter? Why did he not hasten to the poor
anxious souls scattered about the country, struggling in their
loneliness with doubts and temptations? Why did he not long, as
formerly, to combat with the powers of hell?

Was it not, after all, as Sivert Jespersen had said? Was he not
living too much at ease where he was; and was it not Sarah--Sarah
alone that made him so contented and so happy in everything around
him?

He felt that one of the evil moods which sometimes visited him,
especially when he was younger, was near. He wrung his hands, and
prayed that the spirit might guide him, and that all might be made
clear to him. He writhed as if in pain, and his breathing became
short and laboured.

Thoughts, evil thoughts, which were not his own, stormed around him,
and instead of earnest self-examination, he was only able to recall
the doubts and scoffings which he had encountered. Confused phantasms
crowded his brain; and when he strove to come to a decision, to find
solid ground somewhere, everything vanished, he lay powerless, bound
hand and foot, and Satan's self appeared deriding him.

Then, crying aloud: "Get thee behind me, Satan!" he threw himself,
crushed and exhausted, upon the sofa, burying his face in his hands.

But as he