There stood Rolandsen, a wretched creature, with never a word to say for himself. He had never heard Marie van Loos so incoherent as to-day; it showed how his dire misdeed had shaken her. When she stopped speaking, she seemed thoroughly exhausted.
"You? A new leaf?" Jomfru van Loos laughed bitterly. "What's done is done, and will be for all your turning. And seeing I'm come of decent folk myself, I'll not have you smirching my good name. When I say a thing, I mean it. And I tell you now, I'm going away by the post-packet the day after to-morrow; but I'm not going to have you coming down to the quay saying good-bye, and the priest he says the same. I'll say good-bye to you to-day and once and for all. And thanks for the happy hours we've had together--the rest I'll try to forget."
She swung round determinedly and walked away. Then she said, "But you can be up in the woods just above, if you like, and wave good-bye from there--not that I care if you do or don't."
"No, I won't. You know only too well what your right hand doeth."
Rolandsen stood bowed and downcast. "But aren't we to write?" he said. "Only just a word or so?"
"I won't write. Never on earth. You've said often enough it was all over between us, and made a joke of it; but now I'm good enough, it seems. But I know better! It's good-bye for ever, and I wish you joy. I'm going to Bergen, to stay with father, and you know the address if you write. But I won't ask you to."
Rolandsen went up the steps to his room with a very clear sensation of being betrothed no longer. "Curious thing," he thought to himself, "I was standing down there outside a moment ago."
It was a busy day; he had to pack up the last of his samples ready to go by the post-packet the day after to-morrow; then he had to collect his own belongings and prepare for the moving. The all-powerful Inspector of the Telegraphs was on the way.
Of course he would be summarily dismissed. There was nothing to be said against him in respect of his duties, and Trader Mack, a man of great influence, would doubtless do nothing to harm him, but for all that, justice must be done.
There was grass in the meadows now, and the woods were in leaf; the nights were mild and calm. The bay was deserted, all the fishing-boats were gone, and Mack's own vessels had sailed away to the southward with their cargoes of herring. It was summer.