“You will not be so afraid of Nipen any more,” observed he, glancing at her face, of which he could see every feature by the quivering light. “You see how well everything has turned out.”
“O, hush! It is too soon yet to speak so. It is never right to speak so. There is no knowing till next Christmas, nor even then, that Nipen forgives; and the first twenty-four hours are not over yet. Pray do not speak any more, Oddo.”
“Well, not about that. But what was it exactly that you thought Hund would do with this boat and those people? Did you think,” he continued, after a short pause, “that they would come up to Erlingsen’s to rob the place?”
“Not for the object of robbing the place, because there is very little that is worth their taking, far less than at the fishing-grounds; not but they might have robbed us, if they took a fancy to anything we have. No! I thought, and I still think, that they would have carried off Rolf, led on by Hund—”
“O, ho! carried off Rolf! So here is the secret of your wonderful courage to-night—you who durst not look round at your own shadow last night! This is the secret of your not being tired—you who are out of breath with rowing a mile sometimes!”
“That is in summer,” pleaded Erica; “however, you have my secret, as you say, a thing which is no secret at home. We all think that Hund bears such a grudge against Rolf, for having got the houseman’s place—”
“And for nothing else?”
“That,” continued Erica, “he would be glad to—to—”
“To get rid of Rolf, and be a houseman, and get betrothed instead of him. Well: Hund is balked for this time. Rolf must look to himself after to-day.”
Erica sighed deeply. She did not believe that Rolf would attend to his own safety, and the future looked very dark,—all shrouded by her fears.