Wanderers Part 53

'Never!' said the Captain, striking the table with his hand. Fruen gave a start, and sat staring at him. 'Then--I don't understand why you were always running after her and sitting out in the summer-house and lurking in corners,' said she. 'It was you that sat out in the summer-house,' he answered. 'Oh yes, it's always me,' said she. 'Never you by any chance!'

'As for my running after Elisabet,' said the Captain, 'it was solely and simply in the hopes of getting you back. You'd drifted away from me, and I wanted you.' Fruen sat thinking over that for a minute, then she sprang up and threw her arms around him and said: 'Oh, then you cared for me all the time! And I thought it was all over. You'd drifted away from me, too; it was years since. And it all seemed so hopeless. I never thought--I never knew.... And then it was me you cared for all the time!

Oh, my dear, then it's all come right again.' 'Sit down,' said he.

'You seem to forget that something else has happened since.' 'Something else?' 'There you are, you've forgotten all about it. May I ask you, are you sorry enough for what's happened since?' At that Fruen turned hard again and said: 'Oh, you mean about Hugo? That's done and can't be altered.' 'That doesn't answer the question.' 'If I'm sorry enough? What about you; are you so innocent yourself?' At this the Captain got up and began walking up and down. 'The trouble is that we've no children,'

said Fruen. 'I haven't a daughter that I could teach and bring up to be better than I am,' 'I've thought of that,' said the Captain, 'perhaps you're right.' Then he turned straight towards her and said: 'It's a nasty crash that's come over us, Lovise--like a landslide. But don't you think now we might set to work and s.h.i.+ft away all the wreckage that's been burying us for years, and get clear and breathe again? You might have a daughter yet!' At that Fruen got up and made as if to say something, but couldn't. 'Yes,' was all she said, and 'Yes,' she said again. 'You're tired and nervous, I know,' he said. 'But think a little over what I've said. Another time.' 'Good-night,' said she."

XI

The Captain spoke to Nils about the timber; he thought of disposing of the whole lot, or selling it standing. Nils took this to mean that he didn't like the idea of having more new folk about the place. "It looks like things are as bad as ever with him and Fruen," said Nils.

We are getting in the potatoes now, and since we are thus far there is less hurry and anxiety about the work. But there is still much to be done. The ploughing is behindhand, and Lars Falkenberg and I are both at it, field and meadow land.

Nils, queer creature that he was, began to find things intolerable at vreb again, and talked of throwing up his place and going off altogether. But he couldn't bear the disgrace of leaving his service like that. Nils had his own clear notions of honour, handed down through many generations. A young man from a big farm could not behave like a lad from a cottar's holding. And then he hadn't been here long enough yet; vreb had been sadly ill-managed before he came: it would take some years to bring it round again. It was only this year, when he'd had more help with the work, that he'd been able to do anything properly.

But from now onward he might begin to look for some result of his work; look at this year's harvest, the fine heavy grain! The Captain, too, had looked at the crops with wonder and thankfulness--the first time for many years. There would be plenty to sell.

All things considered, then, it was senseless for Nils to think of leaving vreb. But he must go home for a couple of days to his people--they lived a little way north of us. So he gave himself two days' leave as soon as the potatoes were all out of the ground. No doubt he'd good reason for going--perhaps to see his sweetheart, we thought--and when he came back he was bright and full of energy as ever, and took up work again at once.

We were sitting at dinner in the kitchen one day when out comes Fruen from the front door of the house, and goes tearing down the road, all wild and excited. Then the Captain came out, calling after her: "Lovise, what is it, Lovise? Where are you going?" But Fruen only called back: "Leave me alone!"

We looked at one another. Ragnhild rose from the table; she must go after her mistress, she said.

"That's right," said Nils, calm as ever. "But go indoors first and see if she's moved those photographs."

"They're still there," said Ragnhild as she went out.

Outside, we heard the Captain telling her to go and look after her mistress.

There was no one but took thought for Fruen in her distress.

We went out to the fields again. Said Nils to me:

"She ought to take away those photos; it's not right of her to leave them there. I don't know what she can be thinking of to do it."

What do you know about it? I thought to myself. Oh, I was so clever with my knowledge of the world, and all I'd learned on my wanderings, I thought I would try him now; perhaps he was only showing off.

"I can't understand why the Captain hasn't taken and burnt them long ago," said I.

"No, that's all wrong," said Nils. "I wouldn't have done that either."

"Oh, indeed!"

"It wouldn't be for me to do it, but for her."

We walked on a little. And then Nils said a thing that showed his sound and right instinct.

"Poor lady!" he said. "She's not got over that slip of hers this summer; it's troubling her still. From all I can see, there's some people pick up again all right after a fall, and go on through life with no more than the mark of a bruise. But there's some that never get over it."

"Fruen seems to be taking it easy enough," said I, still trying him.

"How can we tell? She's been unlike herself, to my mind, ever since she's been back," he answered. "She's got to live, of course, but she's lost all harmony, perhaps. I don't know much about it, but harmony, that's what I mean. Oh yes, she can eat and laugh and sleep, no doubt, but ... I followed one such to the grave, but now...."

And at that I was no longer cold and wise, but foolish and ashamed, and only said:

"So it was that? She died, then?"

"Yes. She wished it so," said Nils. And then suddenly: "Well, you and Lars get on with the ploughing. We ought soon to be through with things now."

And we went each our separate way.

I thought to myself: a sister of his, perhaps, that had gone wrong, and he'd been home and followed her to the grave. _Herregud!_ there are some that never get over it; it shakes them to their foundations; a revolution. All depends on whether they're coa.r.s.e enough. Only the mark of a bruise, said Nils. A sudden thought came to me, and I stopped: perhaps it was not his sister, but his sweetheart.

Some a.s.sociation of ideas led me to think of my was.h.i.+ng. I decided to send the lad up for it.

It was evening.

Ragnhild came to me and begged me to keep awake again; there was dreadful trouble up at the house. Ragnhild herself was greatly upset, and dared not sit anywhere now in the half-dark but upon my knees.

It was always so with her; emotion made her frightened and tender--frightened and tender, yes.

"But can you be away like this? Is there any one in your place in the kitchen?" I asked.

"Yes. Cook's going to listen for the bell. You know, I side with the Captain," she declared. "I've sided with him all along."

"Oh, that's only because he's a man."

"No, it's not."

"You'd much better side with Fruen."

"You only say that because she's a woman," answered Ragnhild in her turn. "But you don't know all I do. Fruen's so unreasonable. We didn't care a bit about her, she said, and left her all to herself, whatever might happen. Did you ever hear such a thing, when I'd just gone after her. And then there's another dreadful thing...."

"I don't want to hear any more," I said.

"But I haven't been listening outside--what are you thinking of? I was there in the same room, and heard them."

"Did you? Well, well, stay here till you've calmed down a little; then we'll go and find Nils."

And so frightened and tender was Ragnhild that she threw her arms round me because I was kind to her. A strange girl!

Then we went down to Nils.

"Ragnhild thinks that somebody ought to keep awake for a bit," I said.

"Yes," said Ragnhild. "Oh, it's so dreadful--worse than ever it's been!

Heaven knows what the Captain'll do! Perhaps he won't go to bed at all.