if he had guessed her thoughts. "It is a
long way still," he had said.

If he had only been merciful and at once killed her hope. She loved
him so then. If he of his own accord had told her everything, there
would never have been any sting in her soul against him. But when
he saw her pain at being deceived, and yet went on misleading her,
that had hurt her too bitterly. She had never really forgiven him
that. She could of course say to herself that he had wanted to take
her with him as far as possible so that she would not be able to
run away from him, but his deceit created such a deadly coldness in
her that no love could entirely thaw it.

They went through the town and came out on the adjoining plain.
There stretched several rows of dark moats and high, green
ramparts, remains from the time when the town had been fortified,
and at the point where they all gathered around a fort, she saw
some ancient buildings and big, round towers. She cast a shy look
towards them, but Boerje turned off to the mounds which followed the
shore.

"This is a shorter way," he said, for she seemed to be surprised
that there was only a narrow path to follow.

He had become very taciturn. She understood afterwards that he had
not found it so merry as he had fancied, to come with a wife to the
miserable little house in the fishing village. It did not seem so
fine now to bring home a better man's child. He was anxious about
what she would do when she should know the truth.

"Boerje," she said at last, when they had followed the shelving,
sandy hillocks for a long while, "where are we going?"

He lifted his band and pointed towards the fishing-village, where
his mother lived in the house on the sand-hill. But she believed
that he meant one of the beautiful country-seats which lay on the
edge of the plain, and was again glad.

They climbed down into the empty cow-pastures, and there all her
uneasiness returned. There, where every tuft, if one can only see
it, is clothed with beauty and variety, she saw merely an ugly
field. And the wind, which is ever shifting there, swept whistling
by them and whispered of misfortune and treachery.

Boerje walked faster and faster, and at last they reached the end of
the pasture and entered the fishing village. She, who at the last
had not dared to ask herself any questions, took courage again.
Here again was a uniform row of houses, and this one she recognized
Even better than that in the town. Perh