tirely gone. Sunburnt and vigorous, as he stood there among the
pale-faced townsmen, he seemed more than ever full of power.

The old dyer, therefore, made signs to Sivert Jespersen, and began to
move, as if he would depart.

But Sivert Jespersen had made up his mind to fathom Hans Nilsen's
secret, or, at all events, to secure, for himself and the elders some
hold upon the overbearing young man.

"We have been talking among ourselves," he began. "We have been
talking about you, dear Hans Nilsen; yes, we have, indeed. We are all
of opinion that you made use of very strong expressions that day--you
remember, no doubt--at my house."

"I spoke with warmth, and if my words were too severe, I beg of you
all to forgive me. I thought it necessary; but there was no want of
charity in my heart."

"There is not one of us who supposes that there was, Hans Nilsen,"
said the old dyer.

"No, that there was not," continued Sivert Jespersen; "but what makes
us anxious is the look of dejection which we have observed in you
ever since. You are still young, Hans Nilsen, and we are old--at all
events, we are all your seniors. We know full well to what
temptations young blood is exposed, and if you have met with a
downfall at the hands of Satan, we would willingly endeavour to raise
you up again."

Hans Nilsen Fennefos looked from one to the other with a piercing
glance, and it seemed to them that it rested for a painfully long
time upon Endre Egeland.

"I thank you all, but God has been merciful. I require no such aid as
that which you offer."

"How glad I am to hear it!" said Sivert Jespersen, with effusion.
"But--do not be angry with me, dear friend--if we are outwardly
preserved from falling, we should never forget what has been written
about thoughts, words, and passions."

"Will any of you, I wonder, cast the first stone?" said Hans Nilsen,
looking calmly round.

No one responded, and Sivert Jespersen's next neighbour touched him
with his foot as a hint to stop. But it was too late. Fennefos had
made up his mind, and, rising quickly, spoke thus--

"Dear brothers and friends, I did indeed use hard words the last time
I addressed you. I came from scenes of poverty and found prosperity.
I came from affliction, and found ease. I came from hunger and want,
and I found myself at the rich man's table.

"I therefore remembered the rule which Hauge had left for our
guidance:

"'The elders must not connive at any depravity am