he men when they went. Isak stood there in the middle of the
room, and Oline was sitting by the stove. Isak cleared his throat
once or twice, just to show that he was ready to say something if he
pleased. But he said nothing. That was his strength of soul. What,
did he not know the number of his goats as he knew the fingers on his
hands--was the woman mad? Could one of the beasts be missing, when he
knew every one of them personally and talked to them every day--his
goats that were sixteen in number? Oline must have traded away one of
them the day before, when the woman from Breidablik had come up to
look at the place. "H'm," said Isak, and this time words were on
the very tip of his tongue. What was it Oline had done? Not exactly
murder, perhaps, but something not far from it. He could speak in
deadly earnest of that sixteenth goat.

But he could not stand there for ever, in the middle of the room,
saying nothing. "H'm," he said. "Ho! So there's but fifteen goats
there now, you say?"

"That's all I make it," answered Oline gently. "But you'd better count
for yourself and see."

Now was his time--he could do it now: reach out with his hands and
alter the shape of Oline considerably, with but one good grip. He
could do it. He did not do it, but said boldly, making for the door:
"I'll say no more just now." And he went out, as if plainly showing
that, next time, he would have proper words to say, never fear.

"Eleseus!" he called out.

Where was Eleseus, where were the children? Their father had something
to ask them; they were big fellows now, with their eyes about them. He
found them under the floor of the barn; they had crept in as far as
they could, hiding away invisibly, but betraying themselves by an
anxious whispering. Out they crept now like two sinners.

The fact of the matter was that Eleseus had found a stump of coloured
pencil the engineer had left behind, and started to run after him and
give it back, but the big men with their long strides were already far
up in the forest. Eleseus stopped. The idea occurred to him that he
might keep the pencil--if only he could! He hunted out little Sivert,
so that they might at least be two to share the guilt, and the pair of
them had crept in under the floor with their find. Oh, that stump of
pencil--it was an event in their lives, a wonder! They found shavings
and covered them all over with signs; the pencil, they discovered,
made blue marks with one end and red w