“It is all well now, Snorro. I am going to a new life. I have buried the old one below the Troll Rock.”
Until the following night the men remained together. They had much to talk of, much that related both to the past and the future. Jan was particularly anxious that no one should know that his life had been saved: “And mind thou tell not my wife, Snorro,” he said. 141 “Let her think herself a widow; that will please her best of all.”
“There might come a time when it would be right to speak.”
“I can not think it.”
“She might be going to marry again.”
Jan’s face darkened. “Yes, that is possible—well then, in that case, thou shalt go to the minister; he will tell thee what to do, or he himself will do it.”
“She might weep sorely for thee, so that she were like to die.”
“Mock me not, Snorro. She will not weep for me. Well then, let me pass out of memory, until I can return with honor.”
“Where wilt thou go to?”
“Dost thou remember that yacht that was tied to the minister’s jetty four weeks ago?”