Sivert wondered a little at this. After a while his father went on again:
"There's but eight places now in all, but there might be more before long. More … well, I don't know…."
Sivert wondering more than ever—what can his father be getting at? The pair of them walk on a long way in silence; they are nearly home now.
"H'm," says Isak. "What you think Aronsen he'd ask for that place of his now?"
"Ho, that's it!" says Sivert. "Want to buy it, do you?" he asks jestingly. But suddenly he understands what it all means: 'tis Eleseus the old man has in mind. Oh, he's not forgotten him after all, but kept him faithfully in mind, just as his mother, only in his own way, nearer earth, and nearer to Sellanraa.
"'Twill be going for a reasonable price, I doubt," says Sivert. And when Sivert says so much, his father knows the lad has read his thought. And as if in fear of having spoken out too clearly, he falls to talking of their road-mending; a good thing they had got it done at last.
For a couple of days after that, Sivert and his mother were putting their heads together and holding councils and whispering—ay, they even wrote a letter. And when Saturday came round Sivert suddenly wanted to go down to the village.
"What you want to go down village again for now?" said his father in displeasure. "Wearing boots to rags…." Oh, Isak was more bitter than need be; he knew well enough that Sivert was going to the post.
"Going to church," says Sivert.
'Twas all he could find by way of excuse, and his father muttered:"
Well, what you want to go for …?"