“Have you been borrowing money of him?” he continued sharply.

“Of course not.  Not a penny, though I do need it so badly.”

“What was he talking about?”

“He wanted to light his cigar, as he so often does when he goes down this way.  Surely that can’t do you any harm!  And it wouldn’t be much good forbidding him to do it either, I should think—­either for me or for you!” She added the last words red with anger.

“No, I certainly can’t forbid him, mother.  But remember, if you borrow of him, everything is at an end between us!”

“Oh, Nikolai, you are so quick-tempered.  No, of course not; I shouldn’t think of borrowing!” As she spoke she turned round and pushed something she had in her hand into her bosom.  “No, of course not!”

“I could hear he had been talking about me.”

“No, indeed, how could you think so?”

“Yes he was, mother,” he persisted, gloomily.

“About you?  Oh, well, I was telling him a little about how hard you were working now to get together those few shillings for Mrs. Holman.”  Barbara talked rather confusedly.

“And perhaps about Silla, too?” he asked searchingly.

“Oh, no! he knew all about that before.  I’m not the only one who knows about it in this gossiping place, and, upon my honour, Nikolai, it didn’t come from me—­not to-day,” she added.

“I wouldn’t have minded if you had said it then; it would be a good thing for that fellow to know that she is an engaged girl.”

“Isn’t that just what I said?  Only he didn’t believe it.”

“No, I dare say not!” Nikolai stood at the window reflecting.  This visit of Veyergang’s!

He had enough noise and worry just now down at the smithy.  It was just a question whether he should not be made a foreman.  Old Mrs. Ellingsen had sent for him several times on this account, and it looked as if it were almost settled.

Things had been in this condition for some time; there was no great need of hurry in coming to a determination, as the situation was not to be filled until the autumn.

Lately, however, it had seemed to Nikolai that Mrs. Ellingsen was behaving rather strangely.  He noticed, too, that they were talking and making a great deal of fuss in the smithy; but it did not strike him that it might be Mrs. Ellingsen’s intention to draw back, until one day when one of the men remarked scornfully that he did not suppose there was any one in the smithy who would think of supplanting Olaves.  If any one did, he would have to look out for himself, for they would all stick to Olaves.

Nikolai knew well that they frowned at him because he was always hard at work, saved up his pence, and firmly refused to join the others in a glass of beer or a dram.

He was without a companion.  And now, when this foreman’s question hung in the balance, he noticed that the whole of his past life was stirred and dug up again till it was as thick as the grounds in a coffee-cup—­from the old police and fighting story right back to his childhood’s days among the timber-stacks.