“Ah! then, he has returned.  Well, what can he do?”

“Not much, my dear uncle,” exclaimed Gottlieb advancing towards Mr. Fabian, “except to give my dear aunt Ulrica, a full account of the interesting conversation I have accidentally overheard.”

“Without replying Mr. Fabian stared a moment in bewildered surprise, at the intruder, and then rushing wildly to his horse, he mounted and urged the animal to a furious speed.

“Well, well,” exclaimed Magde, “we can well compare Mr. H——­ to a hare.  But Mr. Gottlieb, whatever chance brought you here, do not bring sorrow upon him, by speaking to his wife of this adventure.”

“Fear not, Mrs. Lonner, I have not been on the watch here to become an informer; but as I heard certain things from Nanna to-day, and as I from the first have suspected my uncle, and as I wished to have him in my power—­”

“I understand you Mr. Gottlieb.  You are an honest and faithful friend, and we shall never forget—­”

“And I, Mrs. Lonner,” interrupted Gottlieb, “I shall not forget this valley I assure you, and now good night; in a short time everything will be as it was before.”

“Thank you, a thousand times!  When Ragnar returns, through God’s assistance we will repay you.”

* * * * *

Gottlieb’s heart bounded with joy, as he proceeded on his road towards Almvik, but the heart of another traveller in the same direction was oppressed with gloomy forebodings.  It is almost unnecessary to say that the latter traveller was Mr. Fabian H——.  On his arrival at Almvik he entered his wife’s chamber trembling with anxiety, lest Gottlieb had been there before him.

“What is the matter with you?” inquired his wife, who had already retired to her bed; “has the horse been balky, or have you met with an accident?”

“Nothing, nothing, darling Ulgenie; but my head has been heavy all the afternoon.”

“That is caused by your excessive sleeping,” said Mrs. Ulrica.

“Perhaps it is.  Hereafter I shall sleep less, and after this, my dear wife, I will follow your advice in everything.”

“Then, my dear, you will be a good husband.  If I should always find you so, I would not have so many causes for complaint.”

“Have you any complaint to make now?” inquired Mr. Fabian, anxiously.

Mr. Fabian was in a state of fearful suspense.  The air to him appeared populated with evil spirits.

“I did not speak thus for the purpose of troubling you, dear Fabian, it would not be just for me to choose this moment, when you feel so repentant, to remind you of other moments when you do not seem impressed with the worth of your wife.”

“Yes, yes, that would indeed be cruel, for it is true, really true, that—­that—­”

“What, Fabian, good Fabian?”

“That I never before have so much esteemed and adored you, my dear, dear—­” He was unable to proceed.