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Updated: June 1, 2025
On this the ploughman's information was more definite. Lars? Ay, he was here. Know him? Why, of course he knew Lars well enough. He'd finished with service at Ovrebo, but the Captain had given him a clearing of land to live on; he married Emma, that was maid at the house, and they'd a couple of children. Decent, hardworking folk, with feed for two cows already out of their clearing.
No one to stick up impertinent photographs on the piano, but no one to play on that piano, either; dumb now, it stands, since the last note sounded. No, for Fru Falkenberg is not here now; she can do no more hurt to herself or any other. Nothing of all that used to be here now. Remains, then, to be seen if all will be flowers and joy at Ovrebo hereafter.
"Here, you can use this," said Fruen very obligingly, handing me a letter-opener. A simple, ordinary letter, nothing more; indeed, it began almost jestingly: I had run away from Ovrebo before he knew I was going, and hadn't even waited for my money.
He stood poking his stick in the ground. "What made you come to me?" "Every one said go to the Lensmand if I wanted work." "Oh, did they? Well, I've always got a crowd here working at something or other those bricklayers, now. Can you put up a fence that's proof against fowls? For that's more than any soul on earth ever could, haha! "Worked for Captain Falkenberg, you said, at Ovrebo?" "Yes."
But what on earth had I done? Why had I been dismissed so suddenly from Ovrebo, and Falkenberg taken on in my place. Quite possibly the Captain and his wife were not always the best of friends, but the Captain had scented danger in my being there, and wished to save his wife at least from such an ignominious fall.
I have been staying here a couple of days; Petter has come home, but had nothing to tell. "Is all well at Ovrebo?" "Ay, there's nothing wrong that I know of." "Did you see them all before you left? The Captain, Fruen?" "Yes." "Nobody ill?" "No. Why, who should there be?" "Well, Falkenberg said something about he'd hurt his hand. But I suppose it's all right now, then."
"And is there anywhere else Frokenen could recommend...?" "Ask the people at Ovrebo; Falkenberg's the name." "What name?" "Falkenberg. Go straight on from here, and you'll come to a post on the right-hand side about a mile and a half along. Turn off there and that'll take you to it."
There was a streamlet came down from the hillside far above, with such a depth and fall that it never froze in winter; the thing would be to build a small stone reservoir here, with openings at the sides for the overflow in autumn and spring. Oh, but they should have their water-supply at Ovrebo!
"Yes; what was it?" "Visitors," said he, with a laugh. Visitors! yes, there were always visitors at Ovrebo just now. There was an extremely fat but sprightly man among them; he wore his moustache turned up at the ends, and was a captain in the same arm of the service as the master. I saw him and the other guests come lounging out of the house in the course of the evening.
At this I had to confess to the Lensmand that I had not written to the Captain at all but had merely sent a bit of a note to one of the hands at Ovrebo; and even that letter could not have reached there yet, seeing it was only posted the night before. This left the Lensmand dumb, and he gave up unravelling things.
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