Pelle the Conqueror Part 29

La.s.se went out, but came back again. Pelle was sitting on the edge of the bed, crying; it was the first time Father La.s.se had gone out without taking him with him.

"Now you must be a good boy and go to bed," he said gravely. "Or else I shall stay at home with you; but if I do, it may spoil things for us both."

So Pelle thought better of it and began to undress; and at last La.s.se got off.

When La.s.se reached Madam Olsen's house, it was shut up and in darkness.

He recognized it easily from Pelle's descriptions, and walked round it two or three times to see how the walls stood. Both timber and plaster looked good, and there was a fair-sized piece of ground belonging to it, just big enough to allow of its being attended to on Sundays, so that one could work for a daily wage on weekdays.

La.s.se knocked at the door, and a little while after a white form appeared at the window, and asked who was there.

"It's Pelle's father, La.s.se Karlsson," said La.s.se, stepping out into the moonlight.

The door was unbolted, and a soft voice said: "Come inside! Don't stand out there in the cold!" and La.s.se stepped over the threshold. There was a smell of sleep in the room, and La.s.se had an idea where the alcove was, but could see nothing. He heard the breathing as of a stout person drawing on stockings. Then she struck a match and lighted the lamp.

They shook hands, and looked at one another as they did so. She wore a skirt of striped bed-ticking, which kept her night-jacket together, and had a blue night-cap on her head. She had strong-looking limbs and a good bust, and her face gave a good impression. She was the kind of woman that would not hurt a fly if she were not put upon; but she was not a toiler--she was too soft for that.

"So this is Pelle's father!" she said. "It's a young son you've got. But do sit down!"

La.s.se blinked his eyes a little. He had been afraid that she would think him old.

"Yes, he's what you'd call a late-born child; but I'm still able to do a man's work in more ways than one."

She laughed while she busied herself in placing on the table cold bacon and pork sausage, a dram, bread and a saucer of dripping. "But now you must eat!" she said. "That's what a man's known by. And you've come a long way."

It only now occurred to La.s.se that he must give some excuse for his visit. "I ought really to be going again at once. I only wanted to come down and thank you for your kindness to the boy." He even got up as if to go.

"Oh, but what nonsense!" she exclaimed, pus.h.i.+ng him down into his chair again. "It's very plain, but do take some." She pressed the knife into his hand, and eagerly pushed the food in front of him. Her whole person radiated warmth and kind-heartedness as she stood close to him and attended to his wants; and La.s.se enjoyed it all.

"You must have been a good wife to your husband," he said.

"Yes, that's true enough!" she said, as she sat down and looked frankly at him. "He got all that he could want, and almost more, when he was on sh.o.r.e. He stayed in bed until dinner, and I looked after him like a little child; but he never gave me a hand's turn for it, and at last one gets tired."

"That was wrong of him," said La.s.se; "for one good action deserves another. I don't think Bengta would have anything like that to say of me if she was asked."

"Well, there's certainly plenty to do in a house, when there's a man that has the will to help. I've only one cow, of course, for I can't manage more; but two might very well be kept, and there's no debt on the place."

"I'm only a poor devil compared to you!" said La.s.se despondently.

"Altogether I've got fifty krones, and we both have decent clothes to put on; but beyond that I've only got a pair of good hands."

"And I'm sure that's worth a good deal! And I should fancy you're not afraid of fetching a pail of water or that sort of thing, are you?"

"No, I'm not. And I'm not afraid of a cup of coffee in bed on a Sunday morning, either."

She laughed. "Then I suppose I ought to have a kiss!" she said.

"Yes, I suppose you ought," said La.s.se delighted, and kissed her. "And now we may hope for happiness and a blessing for all three of us. I know you're fond of the laddie."

There still remained several things to discuss, there was coffee to be drunk, and La.s.se had to see the cow and the way the house was arranged.

In the meantime it had grown late.

"You'd better stay here for the night," said Madam Olsen.

La.s.se stood wavering. There was the boy sleeping alone, and he had to be at the farm by four o'clock; but it was cold outside, and here it was so warm and comfortable in every way.

"Yes, perhaps I'd better," he said, laying down his hat and coat again.

When at about four he crept into the cow-stable from the back, the lantern was still burning in the herdsman's room. La.s.se thought he was discovered, and began to tremble; it was a criminal and unjustifiable action to be away from the herd a whole night. But it was only Pelle, who lay huddled up upon the chest asleep, with his clothes on. His face was black and swollen with crying.

All that day there was something reserved, almost hostile, about Pelle's behavior, and La.s.se suffered under it. There was nothing for it; he must speak out.

"It's all settled now, Pelle," he said at last. "We're going to have a house and home, and a nice-looking mother into the bargain. It's Madam Olsen. Are you satisfied now?"

Pelle had nothing against it. "Then may I come with you next time?" he asked, still a little sullen.

"Yes, next time you shall go with me. I think it'll be on Sunday. We'll ask leave to go out early, and pay her a visit." La.s.se said this with a peculiar flourish; he had become more erect.

Pelle went with him on Sunday; they were free from the middle of the afternoon. But after that it would not have done to ask for leave very soon again. Pelle saw his future mother nearly every day, but it was more difficult for La.s.se. When the longing to see his sweetheart came over him too strongly, he fussed over Pelle until the boy fell asleep, and then changed his clothes and stole out.

After a wakeful night such as one of these, he was not up to his work, and went about stumbling over his own feet; but his eyes shone with a youthful light, as if he had concluded a secret treaty with life's most powerful forces.

XVI

Erik was standing on the front steps, with stooping shoulders and face half turned toward the wall. He stationed himself there every morning at about four, and waited for the bailiff to come down. It was now six, and had just begun to grow light.

La.s.se and Pelle had finished cleaning out the cow-stable and distributing the first feed, and they were hungry. They were standing at the door of the stable, waiting for the breakfast-bell to ring; and at the doors of the horse-stables, the men were doing the same. At a quarter-past the hour they went toward the bas.e.m.e.nt, with Karl Johan at their head, and La.s.se and Pelle also turned out and hurried to the servants' room, with every sign of a good appet.i.te.

"Now, Erik, we're going down to breakfast!" shouted Karl Johan as they pa.s.sed, and Erik came out of his corner by the steps, and shuffled along after them. There was nothing the matter with his digestive powers at any rate.

They ate their herring in silence; the food stopped their mouths completely. When they had finished, the head man knocked on the table with the handle of his knife, and Karna came in with two dishes of porridge and a pile of bread-and-dripping.

"Where's Bodil to-day?" asked Gustav.

"How should I know? Her bed was standing untouched this morning,"

answered Karna, with an exulting look.

"It's a lie!" cried Gustav, bringing down his spoon with a bang upon the table.

"You can go into her room and see for yourself; you know the way!" said Karna tartly.

"And what's become of the pupil to-day, as he hasn't rung?" said Karl Johan. "Have any of you girls seen him?"

"No, I expect he's overslept himself," cried Bengta from the wash-house.

"And so he may! _I_ don't want to run up and shake life into him every morning!"