"Ten Daler a year. The Department has made a slight alteration here—ten Daler per annum instead of five. You have no objection to that, I presume?"
"As long as I can manage to pay …" said Isak.
"And for ten years." Isak looked up, half frightened.
"Those are the terms—the Department insists. Even then, it's no price really for all that land, cleared and cultivated as it is now."
Isak had the ten Daler for that year—it was the money he had got for his loads of wood, and for the cheeses Inger had laid by. He paid the amount, and had still a small sum left.
"It's a lucky thing for you the Department didn't get to hear about your wife," said the Lensmand. "Or they might have sold to some one else."
"Ay," said Isak. He asked about Inger. "Is it true that she's gone away for eight years?"
"That is so. And can't be altered—the law must take its course. As a matter of fact, the sentence is extraordinarily light. There's one thing you must do now—that is, to set up clear boundaries between your land and the State's. A straight, direct line, following the marks I set up on the spot, and entered in my register at the time. The timber cleared from the boundary line becomes your property. I will come up some time and have a look at what you have done."
Isak trudged back to his home.