And Katharine looked up and answered simply:
"Yes, let us speak of him."
So they spoke of him: Knutty with warm affection and pity; Katharine with sympathetic interest. That was all. She spoke of him as one traveller might speak of another traveller, both of them having met on some mountain-path in a distant land, spoken some words of greeting, and then passed on. That was all the personal part she thought she put into it.
But Knutty listened, and heard distinct unspoken words.
[CHAPTER VI.]
Katharine spoke a fair amount of German, and some of the guests at the Gaard spoke a little English. The fur-merchant from Tromsö spoke English well; but he scorned at first to show any sign of friendliness to any one from such an abominable country; and the Sorenskriver was consistently careful not to be betrayed into the most primitive form of politeness to this Englishwoman. He knew, of course, that she spoke and understood German; and he went out of his way on several occasions to make in his aggressive voice disparaging remarks about England, using for this purpose the language of Germany. At first Katharine took no notice; but after a day or two of quiet forbearance she said to him at dinner, fearlessly but politely:
"Herr Sorenskriver, you insult my country every time we sit down to dinner. I am sure you do not intend to insult me personally. But you see, Englishwomen love their country passionately, although they may know and share its faults. May I ask you to use the Norwegian language, which I do not understand, when you feel particularly insulting? If, however, you want to discuss England with me, then let us speak German together; and I will tell you all I know, and listen to all you have to say. That is quite another matter. Then you shall say all you have to say against us; and I will answer you if I can, and bear with your criticisms if I cannot."
Her words were so simple, her manner was so direct, and her own temperamental charm was so irresistible, that England, personified in her, went up twenty-five per cent. in every one's estimation. There was quite a stir amongst the guests; they all left off eating their beloved cloudberries (multebaer), of which the Norwegians think so much, and turned expectantly to the Sorenskriver. The gruff old Norwegian did something unexpected, both to himself and the whole company.
"Ah," he said, "you carry your flag better than I carry mine, Fröken. You are right and I am wrong."
Then he lifted his half-filled glass and turned to her with an almost shy smile on his face.