Egholm turns at the sound. And now he is no longer Egholm the upright, nor Egholm the abject; _Egholm the Great_ he is now. His eyes glow like windows in a burning house; he stands there filling the room with Egholm; Egholm the invincible. The mother cowers behind her sewing-machine; and her seam runs somewhat awry.
What terrible thing can he be thinking of now? The "Sect," as usual?--Heaven have mercy on them, now that Egholm has joined the Brotherhood.
Surely something terrible must happen soon; he has rarely been as bad as this before.
He moves, and his wife looks up with a start. But now he has changed again, to something less terrible now--not quite so deadly terrible as before.
He is far away in his dreamings now, without a thought for his earthbound fellow-creatures.
He stands in his favourite attitude, with one hand on his hip, as if posing to a sculptor. A fine figure of a man. His watch-chain hangs in a golden arc from one waistcoat pocket to the other. Only one who knew of the fact would ever notice that one of the oval links is missing, and a piece of string tied in its place.
After a little he begins walking up and down, stopping now and again at the window, with a gesture of the hand, as if addressing an assembly without.
Then suddenly he swings round, facing his wife, and utters these words:
Fru Egholm checks the wheel of her machine, and looks up at him with leaden-grey, shadow-fringed eyes. But he says no more, and she sets the machine whirring once more.
Peace for a little while longer, at any rate, she thinks to herself.
Sivert looks up stealthily every time his father turns his back; the boy is flushed with repressed excitement, the tip of his tongue keeps creeping out.
"Mark you," says Egholm after a long pause, "I'm wiser perhaps--a good deal wiser--than you take me for."
He throws out his chest with conscious dignity, lifting his head, and placing one hand on his hip as before.
Oh, so he's still thinking of that quarrel of theirs this morning. Well, well, of course it would be something to do with the Brotherhood some way or other.
"You said I was throwing money out of the window."
Fru Egholm shifts in her seat, pulling nervously at her work. She would like to mitigate the sharpness of her words, and yet, if possible, stand by what she had said.