Part 3 (1/2)

”How shrivelled and thin you've become already, there's no depth of flesh here!” She writhed beneath his touch, and seized his hand with both hers, but could not free herself.

”Father!” repeated Arne.

”Well at last you're roused. How she wriggles, the ugly thing! Can't you scream to make believe I am beating you? Tickle, tickle! I only want to take away your breath.”

”Father!” Arne said once more, running to the corner of the room, and s.n.a.t.c.hing up an axe which stood there.

”Is it only out of perverseness, you don't scream? you had better beware; for I've taken such a strange fancy into my head. Tickle, tickle! Now I think I shall soon get rid of that screaming of yours.”

”Father!” Arne shouted, rus.h.i.+ng towards him with the axe uplifted.

But before Arne could reach him, he started up with a piercing cry, laid his hand upon his heart, and fell heavily down. ”Jesus Christ!”

he muttered, and then lay quite still.

Arne stood as if rooted in the ground, and gradually lowered the axe.

He grew dizzy and bewildered, and scarcely knew where he was. Then the mother began to move to and fro in the bed, and to breathe heavily, as if oppressed by some great weight lying upon her. Arne saw that she needed help; but yet he felt unable to render it. At last she raised herself a little, and saw the father lying stretched on the floor, and Arne standing beside him with the axe.

”Merciful Lord, what have you done?” she cried, springing out of the bed, putting on her skirt and coming nearer.

”He fell down himself,” said Arne, at last regaining power to speak.

”Arne, Arne, I don't believe you,” said the mother in a stern reproachful voice: ”now Jesus help you!” And she threw herself upon the dead man with loud wailing.

But the boy awoke from his stupor, dropped the axe and fell down on his knees: ”As true as I hope for mercy from G.o.d, I've not done it. I almost thought of doing it; I was so bewildered; but then he fell down himself; and here I've been standing ever since.”

The mother looked at him, and believed him. ”Then our Lord has been here Himself,” she said quietly, sitting down on the floor and gazing before her.

Nils lay quite stiff, with open eyes and mouth, and hands drawn near together, as though he had at the last moment tried to fold them, but had been unable to do so. The first thing the mother now did was to fold them. ”Let us look closer at him,” she said then, going over to the fireplace, where the fire was almost out. Arne followed her, for he felt afraid of standing alone. She gave him a lighted fir-splinter to hold; then she once more went over to the dead body and stood by one side of it, while the son stood at the other, letting the light fall upon it.

”Yes, he's quite gone,” she said; and then, after a little while, she continued, ”and gone in an evil hour, I'm afraid.”

Arne's hands trembled so much that the burning ashes of the splinter fell upon the father's clothes and set them on fire; but the boy did not perceive it, neither did the mother at first, for she was weeping. But soon she became aware of it through the bad smell, and she cried out in fear. When now the boy looked, it seemed to him as though the father himself was burning, and he dropped the splinter upon him, sinking down in a swoon. Up and down, and round and round, the room moved with him; the table moved, the bed moved; the axe hewed; the father rose and came to him; and then all of them came rolling upon him. Then he felt as if a soft cooling breeze pa.s.sed over his face; and he cried out and awoke. The first thing he did was to look at the father, to a.s.sure himself that he still lay quietly.

And a feeling of inexpressible happiness came over the boy's mind when he saw that the father was dead--really dead; and he rose as though he were entering upon a new life.

The mother had extinguished the burning clothes, and began to lay out the body. She made the bed, and then said to Arne, ”Take hold of your father, you're so strong, and help me to lay him nicely.” They laid him on the bed, and Margit shut his eyes and mouth, stretched his limbs, and folded his hands once more.

Then they both stood looking at him. It was only a little past midnight, and they had to stay there with him till morning. Arne made a good fire, and the mother sat down by it. While sitting there, she looked back upon the many miserable days she had pa.s.sed with Nils, and she thanked G.o.d for taking him away. ”But still I had some happy days with him, too,” she said after a while.

Arne took a seat opposite her; and, turning to him, she went on, ”And to think that he should have such an end as this! even if he has not lived as he ought, truly he has suffered for it.” She wept, looked over to the dead man, and continued, ”But now G.o.d grant I may be repaid for all I have gone through with him. Arne, you must remember it was for your sake I suffered it all.” The boy began to weep too.

”Therefore, you must never leave me,” she sobbed; ”you are now my only comfort.”

”I never will leave you; that I promise before G.o.d,” the boy said, as earnestly as if he had thought of saying it for years. He felt a longing to go over to her; yet he could not.

She grew calmer, and, looking kindly over at the dead man, she said, ”After all, there was a great deal of good in him; but the world dealt hardly by him.... But now he's gone to our Lord, and He'll be kinder to him, I'm sure.” Then, as if she had been following out this thought within herself, she added, ”We must pray for him. If I could, I would sing over him; but you, Arne, have such a fine voice, you must go and sing to your father.”

Arne fetched the hymn-book and lighted a fir-splinter; and, holding it in one hand and the book in the other, he went to the head of the bed and sang in a clear voice Kingo's 127th hymn: