The weather was still threatening; the sky was dull and overcast, and now and then big drops of rain dashed against the window-panes; but this traveler with his heavy cloak lined with sheep-skin was not a man to worry about the weather.

Breakfast over, he called for one more glass of brandy, lighted his pipe, and put on his coat, then stepping out into the hall he called for his bill.

“I will make it out immediately,” replied Hulda, seating herself at a small desk.

“Be quick about it,” said the traveler.  “And now,” he added, “you had better bring me your book so I can write my name in it.”

Dame Hansen rose and left the room to get the register, which, on her return, she placed upon the large table.

The stranger picked up a pen and took one more long look at Dame Hansen over his spectacles; then he wrote his name in a large, round hand, and closed the book.

Just at that moment Hulda handed him his bill.  He took it, examined each item separately, and then proceeded to add up the figures, grumbling all the while.

“Hum!” he exclaimed.  “This is very dear!  Seven marks and a half for a night’s lodging and two meals!”

“You forget the skydskarl and the horse,” remarked Hulda.

“Nevertheless, I think your charge very high.  I really don’t see how you can expect to prosper if you are so exorbitant in your charges.”

“You owe me nothing, sir,” said Dame Hansen, in a voice that trembled so that it was scarcely audible.

She had just opened the register and read the name inscribed upon it, and now taking the bill and tearing it up, she repeated: 

“You owe me nothing.”

“That is exactly my opinion,’” replied the stranger.

And without bidding them good-bye on his departure any more than he had bidden them good-day on his arrival, he climbed into his kariol, and the skydskarl jumped upon the board behind him.  A few seconds later he had disappeared around a turn in the road.  When Hulda opened the book she found there only this name—­

“Sandgoist, from Drammen.”

CHAPTER VII.

It was on the afternoon of the following day that Joel was to return home; and Hulda, who knew that her brother would come back by the table-lands of the Gousta and along the left bank of the Maan, went to meet him at the ferry across that impetuous stream.  On arriving there she seated herself on the little wharf which serves as a landing-place for the ferry-boat, and abandoned herself to her thoughts.

To the deep uneasiness caused by the non-arrival of the “Viking” was now added another great anxiety.  This last was caused by the mysterious visit of Sandgoist, and Dame Hansen’s agitation in his presence.  Why had she destroyed the bill and declined to accept the money due her as soon as she learned her guest’s name?  There must be some secret concealed under all this—­and a grave one.