I must have been about twelve years old at the time; for after that there was only one more visit home before the final one; and this last but one visit was made memorable to me in various ways. I will mention the pleasant way first. My mother was entirely her usual self; nobody would have thought that two or three years later she was to come home, mentally unbalanced and physically disfigured by disease, doomed to die, an old woman.
     Her usual self she betrayed, among other things, by the superior way in which she at least tried to handle a serious scrape into which I got myself soon after our arrival.
     Naturally, when at home, I spent a good deal of my time on the beach. My father was a landsman; he had never cared for the sea except as a feature of the landscape of Thurow. My mother, on the other hand, had the nostalgia for the elemental aspects of nature; she understood my passion for salt water. I was, by that time, an expert oarsman, a bold swimmer, and very

self-reliant. Repeatedly I had gone out with the fishermen from a nearby fishing village; but there was no boat of our own.
     One day, in unsettled weather, I went down to the beach very early in the morning, hoping to be able to go out with the fishermen; but they had left, utilizing the land-breeze which blew during the small hours of the night. I roamed about, scrutinizing the wreckage thrown ashore by the last west wind; and my random walk took me away from that part of the beach which lay in front of the house.
     On a point of land far to the north, practically on the horizon, there stood a lighthouse; and for years it had been my ambition to go there and to examine it. The shore between the spot where I found myself at perhaps eight o'clock and the lighthouse curved around a deep bay; and I had already noticed that the distance across was no more than a third of the distance around, when I saw a small boat drawn up on the shingle; for the smooth, fine sand which formed the beach in view of the house ceased about a mile north, becoming first shingle, and finally rock.
     The fishermen, I said to myself, had gone long ago; none of the larger boats was visible in the bay; it was most unlikely that this little craft would be needed. The village lay another mile or so ahead, behind the beach-crest, in a hollow sheltered from the winds. I looked about for an isolated hut to which this boat might belong but found none. Had I seen one, I should have gone to ask for permission to use the boat; as it was, I must frankly admit that I trusted to the fact that nobody, within a radius of miles from my father's place, had ever objected to my using whatever I found that took my

fancy; but, of course, I always returned things. I was the "young master", son of the man who, in England, would have been called the squire; and most people were, if not fawning, yet friendly. I made up my mind to use the boat. The oars were in it.
     But even at that I was careful to mark the point where it lay and the manner in which it was secured. A large stone served as an anchor, the boat being fastened to it by perhaps fifty feet of rope. The position of the boat was clearly indicated by two enormous spruces standing out from the woods beyond the beach.
     I dragged the stone down to the boat, and by a supreme effort, lifted it into the bows. Picking up one of the oars lying on the thwarts I pushed myself off, surprised at the ease with which I succeeded in doing so. Then, sitting down on the middle thwart, I began to row across the bay, turning frequently, to hold a straight course for the lighthouse. The day was overcast, with a grey sky and practically no wind.
     I had gone no more than a few hundred yards when, to my complete reassurance, I saw the tower of Thurow appearing above the trees. Taking my bearings, I found that the lighthouse, the place whence I had taken the boat, and the tower were in a straight line. That fact would help me to put the boat back where it belonged. With a will I settled down to the task of crossing the bay.
     At home, of course, nobody knew where I had gone; but that did not worry me. Annette was still, more or less, responsible for my safety; but more in the sense that it was assumed I should not do anything which would cause her anxiety or which might expose her to inconvenient questions. When she was worried, I was apt to laugh at her; and she would say, "Boys will be boys,"

shedding a tear, perhaps, over my recklessness, but always ready to condone anything I might do; it was never very wicked. Once, at Florence, when my mother held one of her musical afternoons, I had caused a serious disturbance by letting a frantic cat to whose tail I had tied pewter cups and pitchers, escape from me in to the drawing-room of the villa where the animal, rearing and furiously clawing at the monster she imagined to be pursuing her, caused a commotion. But Annette bad not been able to do anything but bend over with laughter when she was supposed to be scolding me; the ladies, mostly members of the Florentine aristocracy, had been "too funny for anything". I was very fond of Annette.
     It took me perhaps two or three hours to cross the bay; and only when I had done so did things begin to happen. No sooner was I in line with the two points of land, the one on which the lighthouse stood and the other south of Thurow, than I became aware of two or three disturbing factors at once.
     The first to attract my attention was the extraordinary rate of speed with which I began to move: the water to both sides of the boat was streaked and ridged with the current. The other was that the whole point consisted of smooth, sleek granite which offered no place for landing; the third, that there was nobody about anywhere. It was true, for a second I had caught sight of the lighthouse-keeper's cottage; but bold rocks had intervened at once; and I knew that I was out of sight of anyone who might have come to the rescue.
     Besides, I found myself in a narrows. There were rocky islands to the west. The current was setting straight north; and in the immediate proximity of the land, to my left, it was running with terrifying force. A glance over

my shoulder showed me that the current would at least sweep me clear of the rocky islands, which served to explain the speed of the current.
     I was now thoroughly alarmed; but I kept my head cool. The presence of the rocky islands and of the current running between them explained why it should have been found necessary to place the lighthouse where it stood. Every now and then I had a vision of being swept out, through the Sound, into the Kattegat and, through the Skagerrak into the North Sea or the Atlantic, whence the Gulf Stream might take me into the Arctic Ocean. But behind the islets there were seemingly quiet backwaters. I began to manoeuvre to get into them; and suddenly I felt the boat being caught in the backwash and irresistibly carried south, straight towards the rocks. But just before I expected the impact, the current turned again, sweeping me sideways, and then north again. There was half a minute during which the boat was in a spin, pivoting about a point below my seat on the mid thwart.
     And then came relief. If the boat fought the current, the current also fought the boat; and presently it cast it forth, spewed it out as it were, into comparatively quiet water between land and mid-channel. I saw two steamers, one standing in, one out; and that, too, reassured me: I was on one of the main traffic lanes of the Baltic; if worse came to worst, I should be picked up. The lighthouse was still close at hand, too; I was not yet headed for the Kattegat.
     Once more I settled down to a steady spell of rowing; and soon I convinced myself that here, outside of the islands, I was making progress southward. I could not see the tower of Thurow; and a strong current still held me back; but with every stroke of the oars the lighthouse

seemed to move an inch or two north, a fact I could verify against the forest beyond. I pulled and pulled; and soon I found that, the farther I held to the west, outward, the better my progress; from which I inferred that the current was strongest inland, along the line which joined the two points of the bay.
     I held southward for perhaps an hour before I turned east. By that time I was clear of the chaos of islets. Before I did turn, I rested for a few minutes. Though I was getting very tired, I was still far from the point of exhaustion.
     And then, with a supreme effort, I pulled straight east, rowing as hard as I could. I was rewarded, for shortly, by signs which I could not have specified, I knew that the water in which I was, was that of the bay. At last I could rest without losing my southing.
     I had no way to make sure of the time, for there was no sun. My watch I had left at home, as I always did when I went rambling. But the clock of my stomach told me that lunch-time was past. At that my conscience smote me; if Annette did not matter, my mother did.
     I went at it again and pulled now for the line joining lighthouse and tower; for to my great joy the tower had come into sight again. Then I held to that line; and after hours of endeavour I recognized the two trees which were my landmark for the anchoring place of the boat. Before I reached it, a wind sprang up, and a squall hit me with drenching rain. But the wind helped; wind and waves now drove me shoreward; and to my infinite relief I at last touched bottom.
     I pulled the boat up on the shingle beach as far as I could, utilizing the lift of every wave which came from

behind. When the craft was at last clear of the water, I beached the anchor stone and dragged it up as far as the rope allowed.
     Then I struck for home, now walking, now running. I approached the house via the lawns, but took care not to expose myself to the view from the windows. I need not have troubled; nobody was watching for me on this side.
     I reached the terrace and made for the great door which was panelled with glass. Inside the door were the cloak-rooms and, beyond, another glass door. Through these two doors I commanded a view of the hall to the great fireplace where a huge fire was roaring up the chimney; and there, in a deep arm-chair, my mother was quietly sitting and reading a yellow, paper-bound, French book. She did not look worried.
     I gave a caper of satisfaction; but I was wet through and did not care to show myself to her in that state. I made up my mind not to say a word to anyone about where I had been and what dangers I had lived through. Why scare the women, if only ex-post-facto?
     I circled the house, entered by the back-door, ran up the service stairs, and made for the tower. Annette was just coming from my room.
     At sight of me she stopped dead and burst into tears.
     "Cry-baby!" I said and brushed past her.
     I quickly changed clothes from head to foot, leaving my wet things strewn over the floor to serve Annette right.
     Then, my watch-chain coquettishly draped over my chest, I jauntily descended into the hail, greeting my mother in the most casual way, and went and kissed her.

     "Whence this demonstrativeness ?" she asked, smiling at me.
     "Oh!" I said airily, "just so"; threw myself down in a chair opposite hers, and added, "Tell me a story," to disguise the fact that I might have told a story myself.
     The sequel came the next day.
     It was threshing-time; and there was a new steam-engine on the place, together with a threshing machine. So far, threshing had been done by horse-power, a team being hitched to a pole and driven in a circle.
     Naturally, every male on the place, including myself, was in the field where the puffing monster was at work. My father was there, too, on horseback, and with him were a number of our neighbours, several of them being titled people. All the "volunteers", as the young apprentices in management were called, were also there: it was quite an imposing cavalcade.
     The threshing machine spewed the straw high up into the air whence it fell like rain, forming a shapeless stack, the finer chaff drifting away on the breeze.
     It was a marvellous midsummer day following a fierce wind-storm that had blown overnight, pelting and washing the world with streams of rain. That was the reason why threshing had not started till after lunch. Around the ever-growing straw-stack scores of children from the village were playing wildly. I was sitting on the ground, profoundly impressed with the miracle of the puffing engine.
     It must have been five o'clock when I saw Annette coming across the field. The humpbacked "inspector", mounted on a pony, to whom she spoke, broke rank a moment later and came galloping across to where I sat. This inspector always amused me. He was very long-

legged; but his upper body was short, consisting as it did of two spheres, the larger his body, with the smaller, his head, balanced above it; for he exhibited the rare phenomenon of a man with two humps, one in front and one behind; he could rest his chin on his chest. Though he was by no means an old man, his globular head was without a trace of hair.
     I saw he was heading for me; so I greeted him with a laugh. "Hello, Niels," or whatever his name was.
     "You're wanted at the castle," he said in Swedish; ''your mother wants you.''
     Though I never learned to speak Swedish well, for the language of the house, at least when my mother was at home, was English, I understood, and jumped up to join Annette.
     "What does Mother want?" I asked as we set out for the house.
     "I don't know," she said. "There's an ugly fellow with her, one of the fishermen from the village. He's threatening her. That much I made out."
     My heart missed a beat; I knew at once that it must be something to do with the boat. "See you later," I said to Annette and broke into a run.
     When I reached the house, I made at once for the hall. My mother was sitting in her favourite arm-chair; and opposite her stood a short, grim man with white hair- on which reposed a sou'wester without a neck-guard, which had been torn off- and a dirty-white fanbeard stained below the chin with tobacco. His attitude was anything but respectful; and as I entered, he was spitting into the fireplace.
     From the dining-room a trim maid was wheeling the tea-wagon in, with all the paraphernalia of afternoon tea.

     "Sit down, Mr. Sterner," I heard my mother say. "You'll have a cup of tea, won't you?" Like myself, my mother spoke only a broken Swedish, though she understood it perfectly.
     "Thank you kindly, madam," said the stranger with the air of a lord. "I prefer to stand. It wouldn't be fitting for the likes of me to sit down in a place like this. As for the tea, I didn't come for anything of the kind. I came for cold cash."
     I could have knocked his head off for the sneering tone in which he spoke; but one did not fight before ladies. I glared at him instead, as much as to say, "Just come outside with me. I'll blacken your eye for you."
     "That's the young gentleman," he said with a baleful look, putting a world of sarcasm into the last word. "You pay up, or I'll have the law of him."
     "Of a child?" my mother asked mildly.
     "Of the child's father," said the man.
     "As I said, Mr. Sterner," replied my mother, "I'd rather spare my husband the annoyance. And you, a lawsuit," she added, smiling. "For I can assure you that, unless you can prove my son to have been at fault, my husband will refuse to compromise."
     "At fault!" the old man blustered. "He took the boat. He was seen. It wasn't his boat, was it? We plain people call that stealing."
     It was the first time in my life that I ran up against this profound division in the social order; but I understood it at once. This man felt aggrieved; justly aggrieved, perhaps; and I had no doubt that my mother had already offered to do the fair thing by way of compensation. Nor had I any doubt that, had I been the son of a fellow fisherman, he would have been satisfied with anything

that could be called fair. But here was the rub: I was the squire's son; and he was itching for a fight with the squire. As he would have said, he had him where he wanted him. All this I saw even before I knew of the most damaging fact which came out in answer to the first thing I said.
     "Well, I borrowed the boat; I thought no harm."
     "Borrowed the boat!" he repeated, with the emphasis this time on the first word. "Borrowing means returning. You stole it."
     "I did return it. I put it back exactly where I took it."
     "Where is it, then, young gentleman? Can you tell me that ?"
     "If it's not where I found it, I can't," I said.
     "Found it!" he repeated out of a vast scorn. "It was tied to a stone. That wasn't finding."
     I was getting angry, more at his tone even than at his implications. "I never untied it; and when I put it back, I carried the stone up on the beach as far as the rope would let me."
     "That's just what I say you didn't. Or it would be there."
     My mother who bad poured the tea held up a cup. "You are sure you won't take anything, Mr. Sterner?"
     "Quite sure, madam. Thank you kindly."
     "Now tell me, Mr. Sterner," she went on evenly. "What does a boat like that cost new?"
     "That isn't the point," the old man prevaricated. "I need the boat, and I haven't got it. I'm losing money."
     "And you won't take less than five hundred kroner?"
     "Not an oere less."
     "As I said," my mother proceeded. "I haven't that much of my own in the house. Will you take an order on my bank at Lund?"

     "I will not, madam."
     "In that case, I don't see what I can do."
     "You can send for the master."
     But I knew that that was exactly what my mother wished to avoid; it frightened her. I was furious but impotent.
     "I'll tell you what I will do, Mr. Sterner," my mother said. "I shall have the cash for you by tomorrow morning at ten."
     "How much now?"
     "Nothing!" I cried before my mother could answer.
     He glared at me; but, strangely, my mother confirmed what I had said, though she did not speak fiercely. "Listen, Mr. Sterner," she said. "You come back tomorrow morning at ten. My husband will be at home then, too. If I don't have the full sum, you can see him. I wouldn't now know where to send for him."
     The old man considered for a moment, spitting again. I began to suspect that he thought it as well himself not to let it come to a meeting between him and my father. He was holding my father only as a threat over my mother; and I despised him for it. And then he showed an unexpected shrewdness.
     "Very well, madam," he said less grimly. "Where'll I go and whom'll I ask for?"
     My mother smiled. "I may not be down myself yet," she said. "Come to the back-door and ask for Annette."
     The old man nodded and actually tipped his sou'wester as he stalked away.
     "The dirty beggar!" I cried as soon as the door had closed on his back. Then, turning to my mother, I spoke very quickly. "It was the wind, of course, overnight. I drew that boat up as far as it would go; higher up than

it had been. It was quite out of the water. If the undertow was strong enough to break the rope, that rope can't have been much good. By the way, I'm almost sure, Mother, the boat never cost even one hundred kroner."
     "Likely not," she said. "But you see, he may be right in what he says, that he needs the boat for his work. He makes his living by the boat."
     "I never thought.
     "I know," said my mother. "Run along. I'm not scolding you. But I'm afraid, if your father knew, he'd fly off."
     "He'd flog me," I said. "Let him."
     "My dear boy, you'd live through it, I suppose. But I couldn't bear it. You'll understand one day. As I said, run along."
     I did. I should have liked to return to the scene of the threshing; but I went to the beach instead, running. I wanted to see the broken rope.
     The beach showed all the signs of having been swept by waves to an unusual height; and it was covered with ridge after ridge of fresh kelp.
     But there was no broken rope; nor was there the stone to which it had been tied. A drag-mark led from the point where it had lain to the water's edge and beyond. Looking out over the bay, I almost at once saw the boat, between half a mile and a mile out, where it floated in a peculiar way, with its nose down. It struck me that this seemed to point to trickery.
     I was on the point of returning home to fetch help; but, in view of the threshing there might be none but women at the house. Even Karl, my father's valet, had been at the threshing machine. A steam-engine to thresh grain was still enough of a novelty to draw every male. The fat old butler, of course, could be of no use to me.

     For a moment I pondered; then I stripped and ran out into the water. The bottom dropped rapidly here; this was not sand but shingle which rests at a steeper angle. Within a few yards from shore I was beyond my depth.
     I held straight for the boat and reached it in half an hour's strenuous swimming; there was still a swell; but it did not trouble me.
     I had no difficulty in boarding the boat, though I had to climb over the stern which stood high out of the water. Carefully I crawled into the bows. Sure enough, the anchor-stone was hanging from its rope. After I had taken it around to the wider stern, it was easy to haul it in, hand over hand, till it came to the surface. It was not so easy to lift it clear, with a swaying bottom below me; but I managed.
     I promptly rowed back to the shore, let the breeze partially dry me, and dressed. Meanwhile I was thinking. My first intention had been to go to the village and to fetch the man. On second thought, however, I saw that I needed a witness.
     It took me a minute or so to make up my mind. The whistle which proclaimed a stop in the threshing operations helped me to come to a decision. I was going to get someone from the field to come along.
     Chance favoured me. The field lay directly behind a fringe of wood. I had hardly run through the latter, at right angles to the beach, when I came out into a lane skirting that field; and in that lane the "inspector" was coming from the north at a slow gallop.
     I held up my hand; and when the man drew to a stop, I explained, speaking very fast, what I was after.
     "I'll go with you, young Herr," he said; and he helped me to mount behind him.

     It was slow riding through the woods, for there was no path. But as soon as we were on the beach, we broke into a trot. I showed the inspector the boat, with the oars in it, and the stone as well.
     We went north. Meanwhile I explained what had happened at the house, and Niels showed quick comprehension. He saw the implications of the old man's threats. "It's nothing short of blackmail," he said grimly.
     We reached the village, a few hundred yards inland, hidden and sheltered by the crest of the beach. It lay just outside my father's domain; and I, having never been there, was appalled at the signs of poverty which I saw.
     But the inspector said, in a tone which brooked no contradiction, "Better let me speak for you."
     The first hut we came to was Sterner's; and an old woman came to the door as the inspector shouted, "Hello, there!" Seeing us, she promptly turned back; and a moment later her husband appeared.
     "Well?" he asked, "Bringing the money ?"
     "Much money you're going to get!" Niels said scornfully. "Be glad if I don't put you behind iron bars. Come along. We've something to show you."
     "I want my money," the old man replied. "I'm not going to go with you."
     "You'd better. If you don't, I'll have to have the police in. It's your last chance to settle this peacefully."
     The old man looked frightened. He scratched his ear; and then he fell into step. I should have felt sorry for him had I not by this time been convinced that the whole thing had been a trick. Strangely, without being very clear about it in my mind, I resented most that the relation between my father and my mother should have been so

well known as to make it possible for the old man to take advantage of it.
     Niels I half admired; and half I despised him for siding so absolutely with his employers.
     We reached the boat.
     "There's your pile of rubbish," Niels said. "If anyone offers you ten kroner for it, you'd better jump at the chance."
     "The oars alone are worth ten kroner," said the old man sullenly.
     Niels snorted. "Now listen, my man," he went on. "Let me hear that you've bothered either the lady of the castle again or this young gentleman, and I'll tell you what I'll do to you. The old hag, your woman, won't gather faggots in the woods next fall."
     The old man's face fell. It was the perquisite of the women in the fishing village to gather their firewood for the winter from the ground in the woods belonging to the manor. The families directly connected with the work in nursery and farm - they lived in a separate village owned by my father - were supplied with more solid fuel in lieu of payment for the work they did in felling it. There was a trained forester on the place who supervised that part of the economy of the estate. In rank, he stood on a par with the inspector, who was his son-in-law.
     The old man's attitude changed abruptly to a cringing submission. "Thank you kindly," he said. "You won't have cause. But without a boat I'm without bread." He removed his sou'wester and bowed to me. "Thank you kindly, young master, for having returned the boat."
     "That's nothing," I said. "I returned it once before; and then you pushed it back into the water yourself, dragging the stone. I borrowed the boat and I returned

it; but I mean to pay you for its hire nevertheless." I tossed him a krone which I happened to have in my pocket.
     He bowed after us as we rode away.
     It was getting late; no doubt Annette was worried again at my absence; and everybody in the house was dressing for dinner.
     When, at sundown, we came to the corner of the woods behind which lay the lawns, the inspector stopped his horse, saying, "Well, that's that. You'd better dismount here and slip in unobserved. No use creating talk."
     "None whatever," I agreed, jumping to the ground.
     "And thank you kindly!" The last words I spoke in the old man's manner; and the inspector laughed.
     When I reached my room, Anne'tte was there, laying out my clothes; for, though I was not yet allowed to sit at the dinner table, at night, but took my meal by myself in a small room upstairs, I was required to change.
     "I want to see Mamma," I said.
     "You'll be late."
     "Doesn't matter. I've something important to tell her."
     And I ran down to the gallery whence, without further preliminaries, I burst into my mother's dressing-room which was not locked.
     She had just been put into her corset - an operation of which I had heard the servants speak among themselves. She was a massive woman, no longer slender; and it required the combined strength of two maids to lace her up. As I burst in, she was standing in the centre of the room, her arms raised, her breast heaving in the endeavour to restore circulation within her armour. Her maid stood ready to slip her gown over her head, for which

purpose she had stepped on a chair; the girl who had been acting as reinforcement was on the point of leaving the room. Both gasped at this intrusion of a male; but my mother laughed.
     "Mamma!" I cried, blushing at finding her in her state of undress. "Don't worry over the money for that old fellow. I found his boat. And I got the inspector to come with me as a witness. I even paid him for having used the thing."
     "Did you?" she said. "Well, that was good. You must tell me all about it. But now run along so I can finish."
     I did. Naturally, this was a major event in my young life. But it was shortly followed by another.
     It was only a few days later; and threshing was not yet finished when my father, at noon, came in late for luncheon, in riding breeches and the cavalry gaiters which he used to wear.
     "Well," he said as soon as he had sat down. "That fool Karline got himself fired. You know what he did?" This to my mother. "There the machine was just running at its best, when he pitched his fork into it, bundle and all. It went clean through the whole works before we could stop the engine."
     From the far end of the table, my mother looked up. "Does that put an end to the work ?"
     "No. Niels thinks we can go on. But, of course, we should make repairs overnight. I should send to town for spare parts. Trouble is I can spare neither horses nor man."
     "Well," said my mother, "there are my hackneys. You'd send a democrat, wouldn't you ?"

     "Yes, I'd send a democrat. It'd be all right for the hackneys...
     By this time I knew, from many signs, that my father had heard of the incident with the boat. He had made sly remarks which had convinced me of the fact. He had not spoken to me directly; but he had dragged occasions in by their hair to mention fishing boats and old, irate fishermen; he had even gone so far as to mention the old man's name, in some quite arbitrary connection, and to use the word "blackmail" immediately after; like this "Oh yes, there's pretty good fishing right along the shore. Especially for old man Sterner. He's got a way of blackmailing the poor fish into his nets." And whenever he had done so, he had had a surreptitious eye on me or my mother. Yet I inferred from his humour that the part I had played in the adventure had raised me in his estimation. My mother never gave a sign that she understood his allusions; and neither did I. But some of the "volunteers" invariably laughed.
     This change in his attitude towards me encouraged me now to say what, without it, I should never have dared.
     "I can drive the hackneys."
     There was a dead silence around the table, as if I had committed blasphemy.
     "I think he can, Charles," my mother said at last.
     "Well-l-l. I'd thought of it. I'd like to see him drag a boat up on the beach, though, before I trust him. But perhaps you've done that, too, sir ?"
     "I wouldn't deny it," I said. "More than once. At least twice. And it was a fishing dory at that."
     "Was it?" my father asked, looking directly at me, so that I had to blush. "Well, it doesn't take as much

muscular power to hold the horses' lines. Do you know which way a horse goes when you pull on the right?"
     "I do, sir. They go where I want them to go. I've driven the hackneys before. And other horses. But especially the hackneys, taking mother out. She always lets me drive when I'm along."
     "Yes," he said, "but then she serves as a sort of stone-anchor, doesn't she ?"
     "Maybe. But even a stone-anchor doesn't seem to hold a boat when it wants to run away. And where you want to send me, there are hitching-posts."
     "Right," said my father. "If there had been a hitching-post for the boat, as there should have been, and a chain and a lock, it wouldn't have gone gallivanting across the bay."
     With that, he dropped the subject for the moment.
     In rising from luncheon, however, my father touched my shoulder and led the way through the hall to the office at the rear of the house where his consultations with inspector, factor, or lawyer were held.
     Niels was there, sitting at the desk and making out a list from notes in his note-book. He looked very ludicrous, for he had put two dictionaries under, as I called it, his "sit-upon".