"Hallo, Hauke," he exclaimed "what do you know about Elke Volkerts?"
"Nothing, father; only the schoolmaster has told me?"
The old man made no reply; he only pushed his piece of tobacco thoughtfully from one cheek into the other. "And you think," he said, "that you can help in the counting there too."
"Oh, yes, father, that would work all right," the son replied, and there was a serious twitching about his mouth.
The old man shook his head: "Well, go if you like; go and try your luck!"
"Thanks, father!" said Hauke, and climbed up to his sleeping place in the garret. There he sat down on the edge of the bed and pondered why his father had shouted at him so when he had mentioned Elke Volkerts. To be sure, he knew the slender, eighteen-year-old girl with the tanned, narrow face and the dark eyebrows that ran into each other over the stubborn eyes and the slender nose; but he had scarcely spoken a word to her. Now, if he should go to old Tede Volkerts, he would look at her more and see what there was about the girl. Right off he wanted to go, so that no one else could snatch the position away from him--it was now scarcely evening. And so he put on his Sunday coat and his best boots and started out in good spirits.
The long rambling house of the dikemaster was visible from afar because of the high mound on which it stood, and especially because of the highest tree in the village, a mighty ash. The grandfather of the present dikemaster, the first of the line, had in his youth planted an ash to the east of the house door; but the first two had died, and so he had planted a third on his wedding morning, which was still murmuring as if of old times in the increasing wind with its crown of foliage that was growing mightier and mightier.
When, after a while, tall, lank Hauke climbed up the hill which was planted on both sides with beets and cabbage, he saw the daughter of the owner standing beside the low house door. One of her somewhat thin arms was hanging down languidly, the other seemed to be grasping behind her back at one of the iron rings which were fastened to the wall on either side of the door, so that anyone who rode to the house could use them to hitch his horse. From there the young girl seemed to be gazing over the dike at the sea, where on this calm evening the sun was just sinking into the water and at the same time gilding the dark-skinned maiden with its last golden glow.
Hauke climbed up the hill a little more slowly, and thought to himself: "She doesn't look so dull this way!" Then he was at the top. "Good evening to you!" he said, stepping up to her. "What are you looking at with your big eyes, Miss Elke?"
"I'm looking," she replied, "at something that goes on here every night, but can't be seen here every night." She let the ring drop from her hand, so that it fell against the wall with a clang. "What do you want, Hauke Haien?" she asked.