So now I had to tell Grindhusen myself, and prepare him for the new arrangement. And lest he should turn suspicious, I threw all the blame on the priest, saying it was his idea, but that I had backed him up. Grindhusen had no objection; he saw at once it meant more work for us since we should have the well to dig in any case, and the bed for the pipes besides.

As luck would have it, the priest came out on Monday morning, and said to Grindhusen half jestingly:

“Your mate here and I have decided¹ to have the well up on the hill, and lay down a pipe-line to the house. What do you think of it? A mad idea?”

Grindhusen thought it was a first-rate idea.

But when we came to talk it over, and went up all three to look at the site of the well, Grindhusen began to suspect I’d had more to do with it than I had said. We should have to lay the pipes deep down, he said, on account of the frost. . . .

“One metre thirty’s plenty,” I said.

. . . and that it would cost a great deal of money.

“Your mate here said about a couple of hundred Kroner in all,” answered the priest.

Grindhusen had no idea of estimates at all, and could only say:

“Well, well, two hundred Kroner’s a deal of money, anyway.”

I said:

“It will mean so much less in Aabot when you move.”

The priest looked at me in surprise.

“Aabot? But I’m not thinking of leaving the place,” he said.

“Why, then, you’ll have the full use of it. And may your reverence² live to enjoy it for many a year,” said I.

At this the priest stared at me, and asked:

“What is your name?”

“Knut Pedersen.”

“Where are you from?”

“From Nordland.”

But I understood why he had asked, and resolved not to talk in that bookish way any more.

Anyhow, the well and the pipe-line were decided on, and we set to work. . . .

The days that followed were pleasant enough. I was not a little anxious at first as to whether we should find water on the site, and I slept badly for some nights. But once that fear was past, all that remained was simple and straightforward³ work. There was water enough; after a couple of days we had to bale it out with buckets every morning. It was clay lower down, and our clothes were soon in a sorry state from the work.

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