for I knew that the poor animals were being trained to bear hunger, and I willingly contributed my mite-no such small one either to the North Pole Expedition.

And now she was alone. And I must face her. I simply dared not. I would first approach her by telephone, and even so I would have an intermediary. I sent and asked for an appointment. She replied that she was very busy and couldn't promise anything definite, but she fancied she might manage it-in about three weeks-by telephone.

But in three weeks this book was to be through the press. I had to pull myself together and risk it. I did not go by rail. I took a sledge, so that I could beat a hasty retreat at any moment. I drove in soft snow, very slowly, up hill and down dale to Svartebugta, and gazed out over the ice on the bay, dull and soft in the spring thaw.

grant that she may thaw, too!' I sighed.

'Heaven

She received me. She signed to her dog that he was not to bite me, and she had my horse fed. She uttered certain mystic words which I thought might be construed to mean that I too should have something to eat.

I was quite overpowered; this friendly reception took me utterly aback. I instantly took off my great coat and out my pencil. A singular gleam came into her eyes, which reminded me of the princess in the fairy tale, when she looks at the victim who has vainly attempted to achieve the quest, and has to retire with three red stripes scored on his back, and salt rubbed into the wounds. But she was monstrously polite. At that moment Liv came in crying with all her might. I remembered having read in an article by an English interviewer how she had laid her hand. on the child's head and said: This is my only consolation.' But Liv went on shrieking, for she wanted a pair of scissors

to cut the tablecloth with, and Madam Eva said crossly: Fie! you're intolerable, Liv!' And Liv was removed. I was abashed; but I said with deep feeling: Of course I know she is your only consolation.'

Whereupon she laughed in my face: Liv wasn't at home that day, as a matter of fact.'

"When the interviewer was here?'
'She wasn't in the house.'

I stood and chewed at my pencil, and then blurted out: Wouldn't she tell me a little about Nansen?'

'Nansen? I don't know anything about Nansen.'

But a peculiar gleam came into her eyes, a gleam as of a sunbeam through rain clouds.

Pause. I went and glared stupidly at the pictures.

I stopped in a remote corner before a beautiful picture by an English master. It represents a woman sitting, or rather crouching, on the globe, with her eyes blindfolded; but her face below the bandage irradiated with light. And under the picture is written Hope.'

And this was just at the time when Nansen's name was flying far and wide over the globe. Mysterious tidings had arrived that he had reached the North Pole and discovered new land. But no one knew anything for certain. Over all the civilised world, women were saying to each other, 'I wonder how Mrs. Nansen feels?'

I was seized with emotion there in the corner. I dried my eyes with my pencil, and turned and said in a husky voice: Where did you get that picture?'

In London. Nansen and I bought it there.'

Had you at that time-have you-I mean, has it any association-any special value in your eyes.'

None whatever.'

I dropped into a chair beside the hearth, or the fireplace, or whatever they have out there at Godthaab.

She threw some papers across the table to me. They contained the last report from the Norwegian-Swedish Minister at St. Petersburg as to the possibilities and impossibilities in connection with the Kuschnarew letter, &c., &c. 'Latest news,' she said dryly. She could not have thrown down the Morgenpost with less reverence.

6

It grows less and less probable, don't you think?' she said with light scorn.

I read the whole folio through with care, and began, with all the earnestness of conviction, to argue for Kuschnarew and his nephew.

'I think they're talking nonsense, the whole family,' she said shortly.

This was more than I could stand-I who was to tell all Europe how his wife was sitting quivering like an aspen leaf between joy and fear!

But before I could say anything, I felt a cold shiver down my back. She had opened a door behind me. 'Would you like to see my husband's work-room?

Now I remembered distinctly what the English interviewer had said about this work-room: Here one is reminded of the saying of Scripture about the virgins who had trimmed their lamps and awaited the bridegroom.'

6

All you can find is at your disposal,' she said amiably, shut the door behind me, and sat herself down in her own warm room by the hearth or the fire-place, or whatever it is. And there I stood alone and gasped for breath. I had the sensation of being in the ice-basin of a Roman bath. I made a note:

'Have discovered the third pole of maximum cold.'