ith the other, and they took
it in turns to use. When their father called out so loudly and
insistently, Eleseus whispered: "They've come back for the pencil!"
All their joy was dashed in a moment, swept out of their minds at a
touch, and their little hearts began beating and thumping terribly.
The brothers crept forth. Eleseus held out the pencil at arm's length;
here it was, they had not broken it; only wished they had never seen
the thing.

No engineer was to be seen. Their hearts settled to a quieter beat; it
was heavenly to be rid of that dreadful tension.

"There was a woman here yesterday," said their father.

"Yes."

"The woman from the place down below. Did you see her go?"

"Yes."

"Had she a goat with her?"

"No," said the boys. "A goat?"

"Didn't she have a goat with her when she left?"

"No. What goat?"

Isak wondered and wondered. In the evening when the animals came home,
he counted the goats once over--there were sixteen. He counted them
once more, counted them five times. There were sixteen. None missing.

Isak breathed again. But what did it all mean? Oline, miserable
creature, couldn't she count as far as sixteen? He asked her angrily:
"What's all this nonsense? there _are_ sixteen goats."

"Are there sixteen?" she asked innocently.

"Ay."

"Ay, well, then."

"A nice one to count, you are."

Oline answered quietly, in an injured tone, "Since all the goats are
there, why, then, thank Heaven, you can't say Oline's been eating them
up. And well for her, poor thing."

Oline had taken him in completely with her trickery; he was content,
imagining all was well. It did not occur to him, for instance, to
count the sheep. He did not trouble about further counting of the
stock at all. After all, Oline was not as bad as she might have been;
she kept house for him after a fashion, and looked to his cattle; she
was merely a fool, and that was worst for herself. Let her stay, let
her live--she was not worth troubling about. But it was a grey and
joyless thing to be Isak, as life was now.

Years had passed. Grass had grown on the roof of the house, even the
roof of the barn, which was some years younger, was green. The
wild mouse, native of the woods, had long since found way into the
storehouse. Tits and all manner of little birds swarmed about the
place; there were more birds up on the hillside; even the crows had
come. And most wonderful of all, the summer before, seagulls had
appeared,