he stopped short, and looked
back over his shoulder.

"What? Security? You want me to stand security for two million crowns?"

"No; the Company asks for a guarantee for four hundred thousand."

After a pause the old man said: "I see. Yes, I see. But--but I'm not
worth as much as that altogether."

"I can put in three hundred thousand of the four myself, in shares. And
then, of course, I have the Loreng property, and the works. But put it
at a round figure--will you guarantee a hundred thousand?"

There was another pause, and then the reply came from the far end of the
room to which Uthoug had drifted: "Even that's a big sum."

"Of course if you would rather not, I could make other arrangements. My
two friends, who have just been here--" He rose and began to gather up
his papers.

"No, no; you mustn't be in such a hurry. Why, you come down on a
man like an avalanche. You must give me time to think it over--till
to-morrow at least. And the papers--at any rate, I must have a look at
them."

Uthoug passed a restless and troubled night. The solid ground seemed to
have failed him; his mind could find no firm foothold. His son-in-law
must be a great man--he should be the last to doubt it. But a hundred
thousand--to be ventured, not in landed property, or a big trade deal,
but on the success of a piece of construction work. This was something
new. It seemed fantastic--suited to the great world outside perhaps,
or the future. Had he courage enough to stand in? Who could tell what
accidents, what disasters might not happen? No! He shook his head.
He could not. He dared not. But--the thing tempted him. He had always
wanted to be something more than a whale among the minnows. Should
he risk it? Should he not? It meant staking his whole fortune, his
position, everything, upon the outcome of a piece of engineering that
he understood nothing whatever about. It was sheer speculation; it
was gambling. No, he must say: No. Then he was only a whale among the
minnows, after all. No, he must say: Yes. Good God! He clenched his
hands together; they were clammy with sweat, and his brain was in a
whirl. It was a trial, a temptation. He felt an impulse to pray. But
what good could that do--since he had himself abolished God.

Next day Merle and Peer were rung up by telephone and asked to come in
to dinner with the old folks.

But when they were all sitting at table, they found it impossible to
keep the conversation going. Everyone