Here sat the only person in the world, save Jan himself, who
believed in the wonders of Portugallia, yet she was denied the
pleasure of a trip there. The poor old soul knew that in that
kingdom there was no poverty and no hunger, neither were there any
rude people who made fun of unfortunates, nor any children who
pursued lone, helpless wanderers and cast stones at them. In that
land reigned only peace, and all years were good years. So thither
she longed to be taken--away from the anguish and misery of her
wretched existence. She wept and pleaded, employing every argument
she could think of, but "No," and again "No" was the only answer
she got.

And he who turned a deaf ear to her prayers was one who had
sorrowed and yearned for a whole year. A few months ago, when his
heart was still athrob with life, perhaps he would not have said no
to her pleadings; but now at a time when everything seemed to be
prospering with him, his heart had become hardened. Even the
outward appearance of the man showed that a great change had taken
place within. He had acquired plump cheeks, a double chin, and a
heavy black moustache. His eyes bulged from their sockets, and
there was a cold fixed stare about them. His nose, too, looked more
prominent than of yore and had taken on a more patrician mold. His
hair seemed to be entirely gone; not one hair stuck out from under
the leather cap.

The engineer had kept an eye on the man from the day of their first
talk in the summer. It was no longer an intense yearning that made
Jan haunt the pier. Now he hardly glanced toward the boat. He came
only to meet people who humoured his mania, who called him