"That is the very position that interests me," replied Hardy. "The difficulty is the only pleasure in the sport."
"They fish with the lines set at night, baited with a small fish, and catch, not only trout, but eels," said Karl. "You might try that. But they do not catch many."
Helga had brought her father a large porcelain pipe with a long stem, and the Pastor was smoking slowly and vigorously. Coffee was brought in, and Helga offered Hardy a large pipe like her father's. This he declined.
"Do you not smoke?" said the Pastor.
"Yes," replied Hardy; "but we are not accustomed to do so in a lady's presence in England; and what an English gentleman would do in England he should do in Denmark."
"Good," said the Pastor, "very good. But it is our custom to smoke. The practice is habitual with us. Helga, will you speak?"
"I should be sorry you did not smoke, Herr Hardy," said Helga. "My father likes to have some one smoking at the same time. It will be a comfort to him."
So John lit a cigar with some misgiving; and he sent Karl up to his room for a courier-bag, in which he had some fishing-books with trout-flies. Karl and Axel looked at the English trout-flies with interest.
"Those feathered things," said Karl, "I have seen used, but they only catch small trout, and now and then a bleak. I have seen Englishmen use them here from Randers."
John Hardy selected three flies and put them on a casting-line, and wound it round his hat, and he said, "Now, will you two boys go with me to fish at six o'clock to-morrow morning?"