Part 45 (1/2)

Here, again, she was right in a way; when she had been heavy and ailing--that was the time to talk of help. But then Barbro herself had done her work all the time as if nothing were the matter; she had been quick and clever as usual, did all that had to be done, and had never spoken a word about getting help.

”Well, I can't make it out, anyway,” said he hopelessly.

Silence.

Barbro asked: ”What's this about you taking over the telegraph after father?”

”What? Who said a word about that?”

”Well, they say it's to be.”

”Why,” said Axel, ”it may come to something; I'll not say no.”

”Ho!”

But why d'you ask?”

”Nothing,” said Barbro; ”only that you've turned my father out of house and home, and now you're taking the bread out of his mouth.”

Silence.

Oh, but that was the end of Axel's patience. ”I'll tell you this,” he cried, ”you're not worth all I've done for you and yours!”

”Ho!” said Barbro.

”No!” said he, striking his fist on the table. And then he got up.

”You can't frighten me, so don't think,” whimpered Barbro, and moved over nearer the wall.

”Frighten you?” he said again, and sniffed scornfully. ”I'm going to speak out now in earnest. What about that child? Did you drown it?”

”Drown it?”

”Ay. It's been in the water.”

”Ho, so you've seen it? You've been--” ”sniffing at it,” she was going to say, but dared not; Axel was not to be played with just then, by his looks. ”You've been and found it?”

”I saw it had been in the water.”

”Ay,” said she, ”and well it might. 'Twas born in the water; I slipped in and couldn't get up again.”

”Slipped, did you?”

”Yes, and the child came before I could get out.”

”H'm,” said he. ”But you took the bit of wrapping with you before you went out--was that in case you should happen to fall in?”

”Wrapping?” said she again.

”A bit of white rag--one of my s.h.i.+rts you'd cut half across.”

”Ay,” said Barbro, ”'twas a bit of rag I took with me to carry back juniper twigs in.”