in turn, and smiled, and drummed with his fingers, and said, "Well,
well--well, well," and seemed much amused with everything in general.
"By the way, Nicoline," he said suddenly, "since you're so well up in
titles, I'm not 'Captain' any more now; they've sent me up this way as
Lieutenant-Colonel, and my wife has just had a house left her in your
town here, so we may be coming to settle down in these parts. And
perhaps you'd better send letters to me through a friend in future. But
we can talk about all that by and by. Well, well--well, well." And all
the time he was drumming with his fingers on the table and smiling. Peer
noticed that he wore gold sleeve-links and a fine gold stud in his broad
white shirt-front.

And then a little packet was produced. "Hi, Peer, come and look; here's
something for you." And the "something" was nothing less than a real
silver watch--and Peer was quite unhappy for the moment because he
couldn't dash off at once and show it to all the other boys. "There's
a father for you," said the old wife, clapping her hands, and almost
in tears. But the visitor patted her on the shoulder. "Father? father?
H'm--that's not a thing any one can be so sure about. Hahaha!" And
"hahaha" echoed the old man, still sitting with the awl in his hand.
This was the sort of joke he could appreciate.

Then the visitor went out and strolled about the place, with his
hands under his coat tails, and looked at the sky, and the fjord, and
murmured, "Well, well--well, well," and Peer followed him about all
the while, and gazed at him as he might have gazed at a star. He was to
sleep in a neighbour's house, where there was a room that had a bed with
sheets on it, and Peer went across with him and carried his bag. It was
Martin Bruvold's parents who were to house the traveller, and people
stood round staring at the place. Martin himself was waiting outside.