"Ay, well," says his brother. "If you'd rather."
They sit down at the edge of the wood, and see the village just below them, the store and the quay, Brede's old lodging-house; some men are moving about by the steamer, getting ready.
"Well, no time to stay sitting here," says Eleseus, getting up again.
"Fancy you going all that way," says Sivert.
And Eleseus answers: "But I'll be coming back again. And I'll have a better sort of trunk that journey."
As they say good-bye, Sivert thrusts something into his brother's hand, a bit of something wrapped in paper. "What is it?" asks Eleseus.
"Don't forget to write often," says Sivert. And so he goes.
Eleseus opens the paper and looks; 'tis the gold piece, twenty-five Kroner in gold. "Here, don't!" he calls out. "You mustn't do that!"
Sivert walks on.
Walks on a little, then turns round and sits down again at the edge of the wood. More folk astir now down by the steamer; passengers going on board, Eleseus going on board; the boat pushes off from the side and rows away. And Eleseus is gone to America.