Poor Paul! He has returned from his tour to the village as hopeless as he
went, and hopelessly drunk besides. For more than a day, he stayed in his
room without once emerging. When he reappeared at last, he was aloof and
reserved, pretending he had been very successful during his absence; he
should manage about the cars, never fear! In the evening, after he had had
a few more drinks, he became self-important in a different way: oh, those
fools in the village had no sense of any kind, and had refused to give
their consent to a road to his place. He was the only one with any sense.
Would not such a bit of a road be a blessing to the whole appendage?
Because then the caravans would come, scattering money over the valley.
They understood nothing, those fools!

"But sooner or later there will have to be a road here," said the lawyer.

"Of course," replied Paul with finality.

Then he went to his room and lay down again.

On another day, a small flock of strangers came again; they had toiled up
themselves, carrying their luggage in the hot sun, and now they wanted
some help. Solem was ready at once, but he could not possibly carry all
the bags and knapsacks; Paul was lying down in his room. I had seen Paul
again during the night go out to the woods, talking loudly and flinging
his arms about as though he had company.

And here were all the strangers.

Paul's wife and Josephine came out of the house and sent Solem across to
Einar, the first cotter, to ask if he would come and help them carry. In
the meantime the travelers grew impatient and kept looking at their