the girl, and then beckoned with a long fore-finger to Peer. "Yes, yes,
perfectly so. Be so good as to come this way, my lad."

Peer found himself in a room with rows of books all round the walls, and
a big writing-table in the centre. "Sit down, my boy." The schoolmaster
went and picked out a long pipe, and filled it, clearing his throat
nervously, with an occasional glance at the boy. "H'm--so this is you.
This is Peer--h'm." He lit his pipe and puffed a little, found himself
again obliged to sneeze--but at last settled down in a chair at the
writing-table, stretched out his long legs, and puffed away again.

"So that's what you look like?" With a quick movement he reached for a
photograph in a frame. Peer caught a glimpse of his father in uniform.
The schoolmaster lifted his spectacles, stared at the picture, then let
down his spectacles again and fell to scrutinising Peer's face. There
was a silence for a while, and then he said: "Ah, indeed--I see--h'm."
Then turning to Peer:

"Well, my lad, it was very sudden--your benefactor's end--most
unexpected. He is to be buried to-day."

"Benefactor?" thought Peer. "Why doesn't he say 'your father'?"

The schoolmaster was gazing at the window. "He informed me some time ago
of--h'm--of all the--all the benefits he had conferred on you--h'm! And
he begged me to keep an eye on you myself in case anything happened to
him. And now"--the spectacles swung round towards Peer--"now you are
starting out in life by yourself, hey?"

"Yes," said Peer, shifting a little in his seat.