The mother was standing by the fire-place; she smiled, but did not say anything; her hands trembled, and she evidently expected good news though she did not wish to betray herself.
"I thought I must just come to give you the good news, that he has answered every question correctly, and that the pastor said, after Ovind was gone, that he had not examined a more promising candidate.
"Oh no!" said the mother, and was much moved.
"Well done!" said the father, and turned restlessly round.
After a long silence, the mother asked in a low voice, "What number is he?"
"Number 9 or 10," said the schoolmaster quietly.
The mother looked at the father, who looked first at her and then at Ovind,--"A peasant lad cannot expect more," said he.
Ovind looked at him in return; it was as if something would stick in his throat, but he forced it back by quickly thinking of one cheering thing after another.
"Now I must leave," said the schoolmaster, nodded, and turned to go.
As usual both parents followed him out; then the schoolmaster taking a quid, said smiling, "He will be Number One after all, but it is better not to tell him till the day comes."