thought the Provst would be quite capable of opposing the bishop, either out of spite or false pride.
He longed to talk to Hansine about the matter, and determined to break his promise of silence, with regard to her. His heart was so full of joy, and his head so full of plans, that he must have vent for them.
He had hoped to be in Skibberup before night fell, but at dusk they were only half way across the Fiord. The currents were against them, and though he and the carpenter took turns at the oars, they had great difficulty in driving the boat along. At last they each took an oar, and raising a lusty song, they both pulled with all their might, the rain pouring down in unceasing torrents all the time.
It was towards ten when they reached land, and so dark, that they could hardly find the narrow track between the hills which led from the little haven to Skibberup.
Emanuel took leave of his companion and hurried to the farm. A light was shining in the sitting-room, and no sooner did he set foot on the steps than the door flew open, and Hansine called out to him, "Do you know it?"
"What, dear?"
"The Provst is going away … it's in the paper to-day."
"Can it be true!"
A moment later, he stood in the room with
