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Updated: June 14, 2025
It is even yet possible to overtake them, for the Dun cannot have gone any great distance with two." Her surmise was correct; on the road she mentioned, traces of a quick-trotting horse were plainly to be seen; and, as a further proof, not far from the mansion, a bow was found, and, a little further, a glove, both belonging to Fröken Mette.
But now Froken Elisabeth says she wants you to drive, and not the other man." "Me?" "Yes. Because she knows you." "Why, as for that, 'twould have been safe enough as it was." "Do you mind going at all?" "No." "Good! Then that's settled."
"Be sure you write," said Madeleine, too, when he saw her off early in the morning to Berlin, where she was to meet her English charges. "Christiania, POSTE RESTANTE, till the first, and then Bergen. 'FROKEN WADE, don't forget." The train started; her handkerchief fluttered from the window until the carriage was out of sight.
She was not the piga, as the servant in a Norwegian inn is called, but rather the froken, the young lady of the house, as her mother was the madame. What a charming face was hers, framed in a wealth of pale golden hair, under a thin linen cap projecting in the back to give room for the long plaits of hair!
I have been away from all this for many months now, and find it not unpleasant. I spend a morning taking it all in; get hold of some other clothes, and set off to find Froken Elisabeth at her address. She was staying with some relatives. And now should I be lucky enough to meet the other one? I am restless as a boy.
"Oh, well, the old man will want an engineer if he's to get the new timber-mills into his clutches." "Is the man an engineer?" "From Egypt. A Muhammadan, I daresay. Brown as a coffee-berry, and rolling in money." "Do you hear that, Froken Bull? Stop a minute, here's some news for you." The girl addressed turned aside and joined them. "Oh, the same piece of news that's all over the town, I suppose.
Soon faces appeared at the windows, and the Captain himself came. He did not answer my greeting, so intent was he on the machine. "Well, how do you think it will work?" I set it going. "Upon my soul, I believe it will...." Fruen and Froken Elisabeth came out, all the maids came out, Falkenberg came out, and I let them see it work. Aha, what did I say?
The Fröken, though in a riding habit, was unable to go so fast through the tall heather. She frequently stumbled and entangled herself in the branches. The Cornet, therefore, without waiting for permission, took her in his arms, and, notwithstanding her reluctance, bore her away.
"Never you mind," I returned, smiling. "You're not a writer, anyhow, so just keep straight on." "Well, Fröken Jensen was absolutely the ugliest girl I have seen in all my globe-trottings.... On second thoughts, that is the place to stop, isn't it?"
Farvel, Farvel." "See you drive as nicely as you did yesterday," says Froken, with a nod to me as well. And we drove off. The day was raw and chilly, and I saw at once that Fruen was not warm enough with her rug. We drive on for hour after hour; the horses know they are on the way home, and trot without asking. My bare hands stiffen about the reins.
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