in the habit of taking potatoes out of the dish with his
fingers, and peeling them with his pocket-knife. The dinner party
to-day was to celebrate Hans Nilsen's return. No one could tell how
strict he might not have become.

The elders had arranged that, at first, Fennefos should be invited to
meet a limited circle of the most confidential and trustworthy of the
community, in order to ascertain his present state of mind.

It was not worth while to let him speak at the meetings just yet. In
fact, they were all afraid of him, and all felt a little conscience
stricken.

Fennefos had been three or four days in the town, but nobody had seen
much of him. He stayed a good deal at home, conversing with Madame
Torvestad; he had also visited Worse's portion of the building across
the yard.

When he and Sarah met for the first time, they were alone, and when
she fixed her dark eyes upon him, there was a tremor in his voice.
However, he soon overcame it, and talked calmly and earnestly,
without looking much at her.

Sarah said scarcely anything, she was only listening to his voice.
Skipper Worse entered, and gave a hearty welcome to Hans Nilsen, who
was startled when he observed how old he had grown of late, for his
mouth had fallen in and his face was sallow.

As they talked of the party which was to be given at Sivert
Jespersen's next day. Worse walked up and down, rubbing his hair. It
was evident that there was something on his mind.

"H'm, h'm," he repeated at intervals during the conversation. "It's
the 24th of June to-morrow--yes that it is. Yes, it's St. John's
Eve."

"Has St. John's Eve any particular interest for Captain Worse?"
inquired Fennefos, who was anxious to be civil to Sarah's husband.

"Any interest? I should rather think it had, Hans Nilsen. Yes, for
many years. It is Randulf's birthday, you see; and ever since we were
boys---- Well, it is not worth mentioning; those times have gone by."

"Probably, then, you would prefer being with Skipper Randulf
to-morrow to going to Sivert Jespersen's?"

"I am ashamed to confess it, but I really would rather."

"No one, I think, will mind it if you do not go to Sivert
Jespersen's," said Sarah, glancing at Hans Nilsen.

She was not sorry to be rid of her husband for a day.

Jacob Worse was as pleased as a child at this unexpected turn of
events, and hurried off to Randulf, to tell him he had got leave to
come.

Sarah and Fennefos remained together, and the