In Sweden, the first little patch of land had passed from hand to hand, and Geissler had taken care to keep himself informed as to its fate.  The first purchasers, of course, had bought foolishly, bought without sense or forethought; the family council were not mining experts, they had not secured enough land at first, thinking only of buying out a certain Geissler, and getting rid of him.  But the new owners were no less to be laughed at; mighty men, no doubt, who could afford to indulge in a jest, and take up land for amusement’s sake, for a drunken wager, or Heaven knows what.  But when it came to trial workings, and exploiting the land in earnest, then suddenly they found themselves butting up against a wall—­Geissler.

Children! thought Geissler, maybe, in his lofty mind; he felt his power now, felt strong enough to be short and abrupt with folk.  The others had certainly done their best to take him down a peg; they imagined they were dealing with a man in need of money, and threw out hints of some fifteen or twenty thousand—­ay, children.  They did not know Geissler.  And now here he stood.

They came down no more that day from the fjeld, thinking best, no doubt, not to show themselves over-anxious.  Next morning they came down, packhorses and all, on their way home.  And lo—­Geissler was not there.

Not there?

That put an end to any ideas they might have had of settling the manner in lordly wise, from the saddle; they had to dismount and wait.  And where was Geissler, if you please?  Nobody could tell them; he went about everywhere, did Geissler, took an interest in Sellanraa and all about it; the last they had seen of him was up at the sawmill.  The messengers were sent out to look for him, but Geissler must have gone some distance, it seemed, for he gave no answer when they shouted.  The gentlemen looked at their watches, and were plainly annoyed at first, and said:  “We’re not going to fool about here waiting like this.  If Geissler wants to sell, he must be on the spot.”  Oh, but they changed their tone in a little while; showed no annoyance after a while, but even began to find something amusing in it all, to jest about it.  Here were they in a desperate case; they would have to lie out there in the desolate hills all night.  And get lost and starve to death in the wilds, and leave their bones to bleach undiscovered by their mourning kin—­ay, they made a great jest of it all.

At last Geissler came.  Had been looking round a bit—­just come from the cattle enclosure.  “Looks as if that’ll be too small for you soon,” said he to Isak.  “How many head have you got up there now altogether?” Ay, he could talk like that, with those fine gentlemen standing there watch in hand.  Curiously red in the face was Geissler, as if he had been drinking.  “Puh!” said he.  “I’m all hot, walking.”

“We half expected you would be here when we came,” said one of the gentlemen.

“I had no word of your wanting to see me at all,” answered Geissler, “otherwise I might have been here on the spot.”