oking at it again. "And what might a bit of a machine like
that cost?" he asked.

Cost? Couldn't say off-hand--a deal of money, no doubt, but nothing to
speak of in mining operations. Oh, a grand fellow was the engineer;
not in the best of humour himself just then, perhaps, but he kept up
appearances and played up rich and fine to the last. Did Isak want a
forge? Well, he might take that one--the company would never trouble
about a little thing like that--the company would make him a present
of a portable forge!

An hour after, Aronsen and Isak were on their way down again. Aronsen
something calmer in mind--there was hope after all. Isak trundles down
the hillside with his precious forge on his back. Ay, a barge of a
man, he could bear a load! The engineer had offered to send a couple
of men down with it to Sellanraa next morning, but Isak thanked
him--'twas more than worth his while. He was thinking of his own folk;
'twould be a fine surprise for them to see him come walking down with
a smithy on his back.

But 'twas Isak was surprised after all.

A horse and cart turned into the courtyard just as he reached home.
And a highly remarkable load it brought. The driver was a man from
the village, but beside him walked a gentleman at whom Isak stared in
astonishment--it was Geissler.

Chapter V

There were other things that might have given Isak matter for
surprise, but he was no great hand at thinking of more than one thing
at a time. "Where's Inger?" was all he said as he passed by the
kitchen door. He was only anxious to see that Geissler was well
received.

Inger? Inger was out plucking berries; had been out plucking berries
ever since Isak started--she and Gustaf the Swede. Ay, getting on in
years, and all in love again and wild with it; autumn and winter near,
but she felt the warmth in herself again, flowers and blossoming
again. "Come and show where there's cloudberries," said Gustaf;
"cranberries," said he. And how could a woman say no? Inger ran
into her little room and was both earnest and religious for several
minutes; but there was Gustaf standing waiting outside, the world was
at her heels, and all she did was to tidy her hair, look at herself
carefully in the glass, and out again. And what if she did? Who would
not have done the same? Oh, a woman cannot tell one man from another;
not always--not often.

And they two go out plucking berries, plucking cloudberries on the
moorland, stepping f