"Is there anything further?" asked the minister, looking up.
The peasant hesitated a little. "I prefer to have him christened alone," he said.
"That is, on a week day?"
"On next Saturday, twelve, noon."
"Is there anything further?" asked the pastor.
"There is nothing further."
The peasant fumbled his cap, as if he were about to go. Then the pastor rose.
"This much further," he said, and walked over to Thord, took his hand and looked him in the eyes. "God grant that the child may be a blessing to you."
Sixteen years after that day Thord stood again in the pastor's study.
"You carry the years well, Thord," said the minister, seeing no change in him.