ame in with little Louise, to say good-night, and
the child was handed round from one to the other. But when the little
fair-haired girl came to Ferdinand Holm, he seemed loth to touch her,
and Merle read his glance at Peer as meaning: "Here is another of the
bonds you've tied yourself up with."

"Excuse me," he said suddenly, looking at his watch, "I'm afraid I must
ask for the use of the telephone again. Pardon me, Fru Holm." And he
rose and left the room. Klaus looked at the others and shook his head.
"That man would simply expire if he couldn't send a telegram once an
hour," he said with a laugh.

Coffee was served out on the balcony, and the men sat and smoked. It
was a dusky twilight of early autumn; the hills were dark blue now and
distant; there was a scent of hay and garden flowers. After a while
Merle rose and said good-night. And in her thoughts, when she found
herself alone in her bedroom, she hardly knew whether to be displeased
or not. These strange men were drawing Peer far away from all that had
been his chief delight since she had known him. But it was interesting
to see how different his manner was towards the two friends. Klaus Brock
he could jest and laugh with, but with Ferdinand Holm he seemed always
on his guard, ready to assert himself, and whenever he contradicted him
it was always with a certain deference.

The great yellow disc of the moon came up over the hills in the east,
drawing a broad pillar of gold across the dark water. And the three
comrades on the balcony sat watching it for a while in silence.

"So you're really going to go on idling here?" asked Ferdinand at last,
sipping his liqueur.

"Is it me you mean?" asked Peer, bending slightly forward.

"Well, I gather you're going round here simply being happy from morning
to night. I call that idling."

"Thanks."

"Of course, you're very unhappy in reality. Everyone is, as long as he's
neglecting his powers and aptitudes."

"Very many thanks," said Peer, with a laugh. Klaus sat up in his chair,
a little anxious as to what was coming.

Ferdinand was still looking out over the lake. "You seem to despise your
own trade--as engineer?"

"Yes," said Peer.

"And why?"

"Why, I feel the lack of some touch of beauty in our ceaseless craving
to create something new, something new, always something new. More gold,
more speed, more food--are these things not all we are driving at?"

"My dear fellow, gold means freedom. And food mean