Part 20 (1/2)

There's not a shadow of doubt.”

Then he read over what he had written; the contract for purchase of the land. Two hundred _Daler_ cash down, and later, a nice high percentage of receipts from working, or ultimate disposal by further sale, of the copper tract. ”Sign your name here,” said Geissler.

Isak would have signed readily enough, but he was no scholar; in all his life he had got no farther than cutting initials in wood. But there was that hateful creature Oline looking on; he took up the pen--a beastly thing, too light to handle anyway--turned it right end down, and _wrote_--wrote his name. Whereupon Geissler added something, presumably an explanation, and the man he had brought with him signed as a witness.

Settled.

But Oline was still there, standing immovable--it was indeed but now she had turned so stiff. What was to happen?

”Dinner on the table, Oline,” said Isak, possibly with a tough of dignity, after having signed his name in writing on a paper. ”Such as we can offer,” he added to Geissler.

”Smells good enough,” said Geissler. ”Sound meat and drink. Here, Isak, here's your money!” Geissler took out his pocket-book--thick and fat it was, too--drew from it two bundles of notes and laid them down.

”Count it over yourself.”

Not a movement, not a sound.

”Isak,” said Geissler again.

”Ay. Yes,” answered Isak, and murmured, overwhelmed, ”'Tis not that I've asked for it, nor would--after all you've done.”

”Ten tens in that--should be, and twenty fives here,” said Geissler shortly. ”And I hope there'll be more than that by a long way for your share soon.”

And then it was that Oline recovered from her trance. The wonder had happened after all. She set the food on the table.

Next morning Geissler went out to the river to look at the mill.

It was small enough, and roughly built; ay, a mill for dwarfs, for trollfolk, but strong and useful for a man's work. Isak led his guest a little farther up the river, and showed him another fall he had been working on a bit; it was to turn a saw, if so be G.o.d gave him health.

”The only thing,” he said, ”it's a heavy long way from school: I'll have to get the lads to stay down in the village.” But Geissler, always so quick to find a way, saw nothing to worry about here. ”There are more people buying and settling here now,” said he. ”It won't be long before there's enough to start a school.”

”Ay, maybe, but not before my boys are grown.”

”Well, why not let them live on a farm down in the village? You could drive in with the boys and some food, and bring them up again three weeks--six weeks after; it would be easy enough for you, surely?”

”Ay, maybe,” said Isak.

Ay, all things would be easy enough, if Inger came home. House and land and food and grand things enough, and a big sum of money too he had, and his strength; he was hard as nails. Health and strength-- ay, full and unspoiled, unworn, in every way, the health and strength of a man.

When Geissler had gone, Isak began thinking of many presumptuous things. Ay, for had not Geissler, that blessing to them all, said at parting that he would send a message very soon--would send a telegram as soon as ever he could. ”You can call in at the post office in a fortnight's time,” he had said. And that in itself was a wonderful thing enough. Isak set to work making a seat for the cart. A seat, of course, that could be taken off when using the cart for manure, but to be put in again when any one wanted to drive. And when he had got the seat made, it looked so white and new that it had to be painted darker. As for that, there were things enough that had to be done! The whole place wanted painting, to begin with. And he had been thinking for years past of building a proper barn with a bridge, to house in the crop. He had thought, too, of getting that saw set up and finished; of fencing in all his cultivated ground; of building a boat on the lake up in the hills. Many things he had thought of doing. But hard as he worked, unreasonably hard--what did it help against time?

Time--it was the time that was too short. It was Sunday before he knew, and then directly after, lo it was Sunday again!

Paint he would, in any case; that was decided and emphatic. The buildings stood there grey and bare--stood there like houses in their s.h.i.+rt sleeves. There was time yet before the busy season; the spring was hardly begun yet; the young things were out, but there was frost in the ground still.

Isak goes down to the village, taking with him a few score of eggs for sale, and brings back paint. There was enough for one building, for the barn, and it was painted red. He fetches up more paint, yellow ochre this time, for the house itself. ”Ay, 'tis as I said, here's going to be fine and grand,” grumbles Oline every day. Ay, Oline could guess, no doubt, that her time at Sellanraa would soon be up; she was tough and strong enough to bear it, though not without bitterness.

Isak, on his part, no longer sought to settle up old scores with her now, though she pilfered and put away things lavishly enough towards the end. He made her a present of a young wether; after all, she had been with him a long time, and worked for little pay. And Oline had not been so bad with the children; she was not stern and strictly righteous and that sort of thing, but had a knack of dealing with children: listened to what they said, and let them do more or less as they pleased. If they came round while she was making cheese, she would give them a bit to taste; if they begged to be let off was.h.i.+ng their faces one Sunday, she would let them off.

When Isak had given his walls a first coat, he went down to the village again and brought up all the paint he could carry. Three coats he put on in all, and white on the window-frames and corners. To come back now and look at his home there on the hillside, it was like looking at a fairy palace. The wilderness was inhabited and unrecognizable, a blessing had come upon it, life had arisen there from a long dream, human creatures lived there, children played about the houses. And the forest stretched away, big and kindly, right up to the blue heights.

But the last time Isak went down for paint, the storekeeper gave him a blue envelope with a crest on, and 5 _skilling_ to pay. It was a telegram which had been forwarded by post, and was from Lensmand Geissler. A blessing on that man Geissler, wonderful man that he was!