"Oh, I haven't time now, husband. There's the washing to be done."
"Oh, bother the washing! We've done with all that now," said Nils Petter loftily. And, thrusting his thumbs into the armholes of his waistcoat, he strode stiffly in, followed by Jantje.
"Jantje, sit down on the sofa. Ahem ... er ... an event has occurred ..."
"Have they made you captain, husband; you have got a ship? We can go to Holland together, is it not?" Jantje clapped her hands together, and looked at him expectantly. Poor Jantje had never seen her native land since the day she sailed away on board the Eva Maria, and still felt strange in Norway, speaking the language with difficulty as she did.
"We're rich, Jantje; we're millionaires, that's what it is."
Jantje turned serious at once; her first thought was that Nils Petter must have taken a drop too much—a thing that rarely happened now since he had been married.
"Don't you think you'd better lie down a little, husband?" she said quietly, pointing to the bedroom.
"Oho, you think I've been drinking? Well, here's the letter from the Justice; you can see for yourself."
Jantje took the letter and studied it intently, but could not make out a word of what it said.
"Your Uncle Peter van Groot died in Java last year, and left millions of gylden, and no children——"