the old man dies.

Morten Bruus of Ingvorstrup was here to-day and wanted to make me a
present of a fat calf. But I answered him in the words of Moses,
"Cursed be he who taketh gifts." He is of a very quarrelsome nature, a
sharp bargainer, and a boastful talker. I do not want to have any
dealings with him, except through my office as judge.

I have prayed to God for wisdom and I have consulted with my own
heart, and I believe that Mistress Mette Quist is the only woman with
whom I could live and die. But I will watch her for a time in secret.
Beauty is deceptive and charm is a dangerous thing. But I must say
that she is the most beautiful woman I have yet seen.

I think that Morten Bruus a very disagreeable person--I scarcely know
why myself. But whenever I see him something comes over me, something
that is like the memory of an evil dream. And yet it is so vague and
so faint, that I could not say whether I had really ever seen the man
in my dreams or not. It may be a sort of presentiment of evil; who
knows?

He was here again and offered me a pair of horses--beautiful
animals--at a ridiculously low price. It looked queer to me. I know
that he paid seventy thalers for them, and he wanted to let me have
them for the same price. They are at the least worth one hundred
thalers, if not more. Was it intended for a bribe? He may have another
lawsuit pending. I do not want his horses.

I paid a visit to the Rector of Veilbye to-day. He is a fine,
God-fearing man, but somewhat quick-tempered and dictatorial. And he
is close with his money, too, as I could see. Just as I arrived a
peasant was with him trying to be let off the payment of part of his
tithe. The man is surely a rogue, for the sum is not large. But the
rector talked to him as I wouldn't have talked to a dog, and the more
he talked the more violent he became.

Well, we all have our faults. The rector meant well in spite of his
violence, for later on he told his daughter to give the man a sandwich
and a good glass of beer. She is certainly a charming and sensible
girl. She greeted me in a modest and friendly manner, and my heart
beat so that I could scarcely say a word in reply. My head farm hand
served in the rectory three years. I will question him,--one often
hears a straight and true statement from servants.

A surprise! My farm hand Rasmus tells me that Morten Bruus came
a-wooing to the rectory at Veilbye some years back, but was sent away
with a refusal