Geissler puckered his forehead and said shortly:  “Very good.”

But they were not finished with Geissler yet.  Not that he opened his mouth to ask for anything; he simply stood there, and they saw how he stood there:  maybe he had stipulated beforehand for a trifle on his own account.  The leader gave him a bundle of notes, and Geissler simply nodded again, and said:  “Very good.”

“And now I think we ought to drink a glass with Geissler,” said the other.

They drank, and that was done.  And then they took leave of Geissler.

Just at that moment came Brede Olsen walking up.  Now what did he want?  Brede had doubtless heard the reports of the blasting charges the day before, and understood that there was something on foot in the way of mines.  And now he came up ready to sell something too.  He walked straight past Geissler, and addressed himself to the gentlemen; he had found some remarkable specimens of rock hereabouts, quite extraordinary, some blood-like, others like silver; he knew every cranny and corner in the hills around and could go straight to every spot; he knew of long veins of some heavy metal—­whatever it might be.

“Have you any samples?” asked the mining expert.

Yes, Brede had samples.  But couldn’t they just as well go up and look at the places at once?  It wasn’t far.  Samples—­oh, sacks of them, whole packing-cases full.  No, he had not brought them with him, they were at home—­he could run down and fetch them.  But it would be quicker just to run up into the hills and fetch some more, if they would only wait.

The men shook their heads and went on their way.

Brede looked after them with an injured air.  If he had felt a glimmer of hope for the moment, it was gone now; fate was against him, nothing ever went right.  Well for Brede that he was not easily cast down; he looked after the men as they rode away, and said at last:  “Wish you a pleasant journey!” And that was all.

But now he was humble again in his manner towards Geissler, his former chief, and no longer treated him as an equal, but used forms of respect.  Geissler had taken out his pocket-book on some pretext or other, and any one could see that it was stuffed full of notes.

“If only Lensmand could help me a bit,” said Brede.

“Go back home and work your land properly,” said Geissler, and helped him not a bit.

“I might easily have brought up a whole barrow-load of samples, but wouldn’t it have been easier to go up and look at the place itself while they were here?”

Geissler took no notice of him, and turned to Isak:  “Did you see what I did with that document?  It was a most important thing—­a matter of several thousand Kroner.  Oh, here it is, in among a bundle of notes.”

“Who were those people?” asked Brede.  “Just out for a ride, or what?”