eyes
followed.

"Do you not recognize Bang? Or did you not see him?"

His size had increased tenfold, the flesh resembling heavy layers of
padding; he occupied at least two thirds of the carriage, crowding his
wife, for one shoulder and arm covered hers. He looked good-natured and
quite contented. But when one looked from his plump, heavy face and body
back to the lady, she appeared spiritualized--aye, to the very
finger-tips of the hand from which she was now drawing the glove.

Steadfastly following Magnhild's eyes, she stroked back from Magnhild's
brow a lock of hair which had crept forward, and then let her hand pass
slowly, softly over her cheek.

"You are in mourning?" asked Magnhild.

"The whole land should be in mourning, my child!" And after a pause,
came a whispered, "He is dead!"

"You must remember that there is no time to lose if we would reach the
steamer," said Bang.

The lady did not look up at her husband's words; she was busy with the
lock she had just stroked back. Bang gave the coachman a sign, the
carriage was set in motion.

"I am going to America," whispered Magnhild, as she descended from the
carriage step.

The lady gazed after her a moment, then she seemed to grasp in its full
extent what it implied that Skarlie's wife was going far, far away--what
suppositions might be therewith connected and what consequences. For her
face resumed somewhat of its old brightness, her frame regained its
elasticity: at once she was on her feet, had turned completely round,
and was waving her handkerchief. With what charming grace she did it!

Her husband would not permit the carriage to halt again. He contented
himself with following his wife's example by waving one hand. The
movement must have been accompanied by an admonition to sit down, for
the lady disappeared forthwith.

The plume in her hat waved over his shoulder. More could not be seen;
she must have let herself glide back into her place.

DUST.

CHAPTER I.

The drive from the town to Skogstad, the large gard belonging to the
Atlung family, with its manufacturing establishment on the margin of
the woodland stream, at the usual steady pace, might possibly occupy
two hours; but in the fine sleighing we had been having it could
scarcely take an hour and a half. The road was a chaussee running
along the fjord. All the way from town I had the fjord on the
right-hand side, and on the left broad fields, gently sloping down
fro