it must be done. Hadn't they a farm with sheep, a farm with a cow
already, goats that were many already and would be more?--their live
stock alone was crowding them out of the turf hut; something must be
done. And best get on with it at once, while the potatoes were still
in flower, and before the haytime began. Inger would have to lend a
hand here and there.

Isak wakes in the night and gets up, Inger sleeping fine and sound
after her long tramp, and out he goes to the cowshed. Now it must not
be thought that he talked to Cow in any obsequious and disgustful
flattery; no, he patted her decently, and looked her over once more in
every part, to see if there should, by chance, be any sign, any mark
of her belonging to strange owners. No mark, no sign, and Isak steals
away relieved.

There lies the timber. He falls to, rolling the baulks, then lifting
them, setting them up against the wall in a framework; one big frame
for a parlour, and a smaller one--there must be a room to sleep in. It
was heavy work, hard-breathing work, and his mind being set on it, he
forgot the time. There comes a smoke from the roof-hole of the hut,
and Inger steps out and calls to breakfast.

"And what are you busy with now?" asked Inger.

"You're early about," says Isak, and that was all.

Ho, that Isak with his secrets and his lordly ways! But it pleased
him, maybe, to have her asking and wondering, and curious about his
doings. He ate a bit, and sat for a while in the hut before going out
again. What could he be waiting for?