hen one of the men remarked scornfully that he did not suppose there
was any one in the smithy who would think of supplanting Olaves. If any
one did, he would have to look out for himself, for they would all stick
to Olaves.

Nikolai knew well that they frowned at him because he was always hard at
work, saved up his pence, and firmly refused to join the others in a
glass of beer or a dram.

He was without a companion. And now, when this foreman's question hung
in the balance, he noticed that the whole of his past life was stirred
and dug up again till it was as thick as the grounds in a
coffee-cup--from the old police and fighting story right back to his
childhood's days among the timber-stacks.

These old stories were Nikolai's smarting wounds. He was always thinking
they were forgotten, and they were always coming up again, and now it
was insupportable suffering. He endeavoured not to betray it by a look;
but he was by no means in a good temper as he stood there.

The sooner he got to know from Mrs. Ellingsen how it was to end the
better; and Nikolai was soon standing with his cap in his hand in her
room, to ask what he might depend upon.

It took a long time, with many "h'ms" and "ha's" before she managed to
get her spectacles off and the wires put properly into her hair again.
Then at last it came out with some hesitation. She meant no offence; she
knew he was a good smith enough; but there were so many who knew Olaves
to be such an honest, good fellow, and she was an old woman who needed
some one whom she could thoroughly trust--no offence meant to
Nikolai--but she must consider the matter.

That was the answer he received, and with it his prospects, that he had
counted upon and shown to Mrs. Holman when he asked for Silla's hand,
were destroyed.

The next day when he came into the smithy they all smiled and tittered.
They knew he had been to Mrs. Ellingsen and had got his answer. But if
they thought they could tease or frighten him into giving it up, they
were very much mistaken.

Olaves behaved as if nothing was the matter, and even civilly offered a
helping-hand in breaking the bar-iron.

Nikolai only turned his back on him.

"I never meddle with any other man's work, and I don't advise any one to
worm himself into my affairs," he said, "unless he wants a dressing that
will make his back as hot as that red iron there!" he added, with a
glance at Olaves.

There was a general silence.

But at dinne