The Baron is going away. Well and good: I will load my gun, go up into the hills, and fire a salvo in his honour and Edwarda’s. I will bore a deep hole in a rock and blow up a mountain in his honour and Edwarda’s. And a great boulder shall roll down the hillside and dash mightily into the sea just as his ship is passing by. I know a spot — a channel down the hillside — where rocks have rolled before and made a clean road to the sea. Far below there is a little boat-house.

“Two mining drills,” I say to the smith.

And the smith whets two drills . . .

Eva has been put to driving back and forth between the mill and the quay, with one of Herr Mack’s horses. She has to do a man’s work, transporting sacks of corn and flour. I meet her; her face is wonderfully fresh and glowing. Dear God, how tender and warm is her smile! Every evening I meet her.
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