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establish good relations before I asked for a room. All these people seemed insular and suspicious, antagonistic to strangers. We drank the local brandy made out of plums, potent and fiery, a good drink for a cold climate. He was a big, robust man, better than a peasant. At first I could hardly get a word out of him, but over the second glass he relaxed enough to ask why I had come. 'Nobody ever comes here; we have nothing to attract foreigners—only ruins.' I said: 'The ruins of your town are famous. They're the reason for my coming. I'm making a study of them for a learned society.' I had decided beforehand to say this. 'You mean people in other countries are interested?' 'Certainly. This town is a place of historic importance.' He was flattered, as I expected. 'That's true. We have a glorious war record.' 'And also a record of discovery. Did you know that a map has been found recently which indicates that your long boats crossed the Atlantic and were the first to reach the new world?' 'You expect to find proof of this in the ruins?' It had not occurred to me, but I assented. 'I know of course that I must get permits: everything must be done correctly. Unfortunately I don't know who's the right man to approach.' Without hesitation he said: 'You must ask the warden. He controls everything.' Here was an unexpected stroke of luck. 'How do I get in touch with him?' I had a vision of an iron hand gripping a girl's thin wrist, crushing the brittle prominent bones. 'That's simple. You make an appointment through one of the secretaries at the High House.' I was delighted by such good fortune. I had been prepared to wait and scheme for a chance of seeing this man; now the opportunity had presented itself at the very beginning.
    The business of the room was also settled without difficulty. I was having a run of good luck. Although the proprietor could not accommodate me himself, his sister who lived nearby had a spare room I could rent. 'She's a widow and can do with the extra money, you understand.' He went off to telephone to her; returned after rather a long absence, saying that it was all arranged. He would provide my two main meals at the café; breakfast would be brought to my room. 'You won't be disturbed there while you're working, it's very quiet. The house looks away from the street, faces the water; and nobody ever goes there.' His co-operation was valuable, so to keep the conversation going I asked why people avoided the vicinity of the fjord. 'Because they're afraid of the dragon that lives at the bottom.' I looked at him, thought he was joking; but his face was perfectly serious, his voice had been matter-of-fact. I had never before met anyone who owned a telephone and believed in dragons. It amused me, and also contributed to my sense of the unreal.
    The room proved to be dark and devoid of comfort or convenience. It was not warm enough. However, it had a bed, a table and chair—the basic necessities. I was lucky to get it as no other accommodation was available. The sister looked older and much less sophisticated than her brother, who must have persuaded her to take me in against her will during their long talk on the telephone. She was evidently reluctant to admit a foreigner to the house where she lived alone; I could feel her suspicious dislike. To avoid trouble I paid the exorbitant price she asked without question, a week in advance.
    I asked for the keys, saying I would have a duplicate cut for the outer door: I had to be independent. She brought the two keys, but gave me only the key of my own door, hiding the other one in the palm of her hand. I told her to hand it over. She refused. I insisted. She became stubborn and retreated into the kitchen. I followed and took the key from her forcibly. I did not much care for this sort of behaviour, but a principle was involved. She would not oppose me again.
    I went out and walked about, exploring the town: the empty lanes silent between shapeless shapes of decay, the