Through all these days she had not been outside the door, she must go this afternoon. From fear of Fürst she went over towards the mountain, and from there up into the wood along by the churchyard, and then on to the big fir-tree on the right, and sat down on the stone under it--it was smooth and flat. She had not come to dream or to enjoy herself, but for real help to consecrate her life. These weary days had enlightened her; she knew now that her character combined a little of everything; that she wished for a little of everything, even of what was wrong, so that she would be an easy prey for a rogue. She had not been sufficiently guarded from the first; she had been completely unprepared--nay, the danger had had something attractive in it.

This must now be changed; she would do any kind of work, if only it would be a restraint on her. She had no more ambition now, nothing but dread.

She fell upon her knees, and with her blood coursing the faster from her hurried ascent, she offered her prayer in her abasement. It was the most humble, piteous pleading. Her distress was extreme. Power to resist the will which conquered hers! She did not doubt for a moment that her petition would be instantly and literally granted.

Mentally she saw herself endowed with strength, she saw herself without fear--even with a mission; no matter what it was, so that it continued. And that should regulate her life. Willingly! Always! She could not picture to herself greater joy, honour, or riches than to give herself to some hard task; it was her nature to wish for extremes.

And now she began to contemplate herself--no, she came to a stand, her mind was disturbed when she thought of her friends. Milla's greatest anxiety in her last letter had been lest the weather should not continue fine, and Nora had feared that they might forget to send her some new music. Why should she alone, who was hiding here, have such dreadful trouble? Her desolate position ought to have made people pity her, but it only encouraged them.

She sat, turned away from the view, leaning against the big fir-tree. Before her she saw alder woods, nothing but young luxuriant alder woods, and fronds of bracken in a thick mass. Ah! how impotent all that was, that they had discussed together at the Society's meetings, and at other places. Only a few weeks ago, and now she must hide herself here. If this became known, she would no doubt lose the small status she had gained for herself. She would hardly go again to the Engels, she would not be allowed to be Milla's friend, perhaps not be able even to go up to Fru Rendalen's again; she began to cry, but she tried to collect herself. The image of the sly, excited, accursed face that she had seen from behind the stone down below, seemed to stab her--to thrill through her; she understood that the dread with which she terrified herself was greater danger to her than the actual man.

She ought to have gone home again, but it was a shame not to test her strength, and so she stayed there.

As Tora, a short time before, was climbing the hill, Niels Fürst was sauntering up and down the deck of a vessel, the captain of which he knew, and just as she reached the flat stone under the fir-tree he had taken up the new ship's telescope to try it; he focussed it and turned it towards the river-bank, and from there gradually upwards across the wooden slopes. Tora had just seated herself on the stone as the telescope was turned to that point, and he recognised her.

He took a short cut across the market-place, and turned up to the right of "The Estate" gardens.

Latterly he had thought of nothing but her, he could not occupy himself, and he slept badly. He had never been in pursuit of so beautiful a girl before.