There had been a slight breeze at noon; but at evening it was again motionless. The fjord lay smooth as glass, with bright circles where a bird had just dipped, or with long, waving lines behind a fisher-boat which was going out on the sound to catch cod.
There was not a chirrup from the birds; there was not the least sound from anything; but a mellow, wooing silence in which one might hide himself, to whisper something to some one which no one must hear.
For Elsie felt again as if her bosom would burst out. She walked along, bending over her rose.
And as they walked along in this way, little by little they came closer to each other; and at last they came as close to each other as they could; they no longer talked, but drew quick breaths; she stumbled and took him by the arm; he clasped her hand to him and thus they went a few steps without conscious thought.
But a carriage came rapidly down over the hill behind them. The coachman cried out to them and they sprang one to each side.
It was Consul With, who was returning from his brick-works. When he caught sight of Elsie, he had the carriage stop, leaped out and took her by the hand.
“Good evening, little miss; you are going to town, are you not? Come and ride with me.”
Elsie would have made excuses; but he fairly lifted her into the carriage. She at once recognized the rich, distinguished Consul With, and was partly too abashed to oppose him; and perhaps it partly arose before her what a high honor it was to ride in his carriage.
But as they bowled away, she became frightened completely. She caught but a glimpse of Svend, who stood astounded by the roadside; then the carriage ran down from a second hill and he was out of sight.
Besides she had enough to handle in the Consul, who put his arm about her waist and tried to kiss her on the neck.