He was led
across the courtyard in a halter, and as he came he stopped for a
moment, and threw up his head, and neighed, and from the stables the
other horses neighed in answer. Was it a farewell? Did he remember
the day, years ago, when he had come there first, dancing on his
white-stockinged feet, full of youth and strength?

But by the woodshed there stood as usual a little grey old man, busy
sawing and chopping, as if nothing at all was the matter. One master
left, another took his place; one needed firewood, it seemed to him, as
much as the other. And if they came and gave him notice--why, thank the
Lord, he was stone deaf. Thud, thud, the sound of the axe went on.

A young man came driving up the hill, a florid-faced young man, with
very blue eyes. He took off his overcoat in the passage, revealing a
long black frock coat beneath and a large-patterned waistcoat. It was
Uthoug junior, general agent for English tweeds. He had taken no part
in his brother-in-law's business affairs, and so he was able to help his
father in this crisis.

But the auction at Loreng went on for several days.

BOOK III

Chapter I

Once more a deep valley, with sun-steeped farms on the hillsides between
the river and the mountain-range behind.

One day about midsummer it was old Raastad himself that came down to
meet the train, driving a spring-cart, with a waggon following behind.
Was he expecting visitors? the people at the station asked him. "Maybe
I am," said old Raastad, stroking his heavy beard, and he limped about
looking to his horses. Was it the folk who had taken the Court-house?
"Ay, it's likely them," said the old man.

The train came in, and a pale man, with grey hair and beard, and blue
spectacles, stepped out, and he had a wife and three children with him.
"Paul Raastad?" inquired the stranger. "Ay, that's me," said the old
man. The stranger looked up at the great mountains to the north, rising
dizzily into the sky. "The air ought to be good here," said he. "Ay, the
air's good enough, by all accounts," said Raastad, and began loading up
the carts.

They drove off up the hill road. The man and his wife sat in the
spring-cart, the woman with a child in her lap, but a boy and a girl
were seated on the load in the baggage-waggon behind Raastad. "Can we
see the farm from here?" asked the woman, turning her head. "There,"
said the old man, pointing. And looking, they saw a big farmstead high
up on a sunny h