I fear,
not a good side of the Danish character."

"I cannot deny that such principles occur with us," said Pastor
Lindal; "possibly we have learnt it from the English."

"We shall have to start at six to-morrow, Herr Pastor, to reach
Hoisted," said Hardy. "The hotel there is moderate, and we can only
expect what we can obtain. We shall have to break our longest journey
where we can, to give the horses a little rest."

"Therefore, we should go to bed early," said the Pastor.

"But I cannot go to bed without thanking you, Herr Hardy, for your
goodness to my father," said Froken Helga. "I have never seen him so
bright, and I thank you." She thanked him in her Danish manner by
shaking hands.

"There is little need to thank me," said Hardy. "I have learnt much
from your father, and am thankful for it; but I hope with time to win
the same kindly trust from him as you already possess, and I think
deservedly."

Helga never forgot these words. They echoed in her recollection
through the winter months, and Kapellan Holm was nowhere.

CHAPTER XIX.

"_Piscator._--Come, sir, let us be going; for the
sun grows low, and I would have you look about you as you
ride, for you will see an odd country, and sights that will
seem strange to you."
--_The Complete Angler._

John Hardy, before he retired to rest, had arranged with the hotel
manager at Veile to telegraph to Baekke, where he designed to have a
late breakfast, or rather lunch, and to a little inn, a few English
miles further on, where they could pass the night. Thus the horses
could rest at Baekke, and then go further to a station that would leave
them but a little distance to reach Esbjerg.

It was eleven before they reached Baekke, travelling over not the best
of roads, and when they got there Hardy's forethought in telegraphing
was apparent. The Pastor was tired, but as conversational as ever.
Karl and Axel were obviously hungry, and as there was nothing to be
had but fried eggs, and the usual indigestible _et ceteras_, Hardy was
anxious to get on to their destination for the night. The Pastor went
into the carriage, and Helga got up by Hardy's side, but her father
had specially stipulated that she was not to drive the horses. This,
of course, had to be obeyed, as the Pastor's wish once expressed was
enough for Helga. The direction was over by-roads, and it was perhaps
best the Pastor had been so decisive.

Helga talked as before, u