Part 69 (1/2)
Sivert is trying to act for the best, and hold his brother back, but Eleseus is determined, ay, for once he is determined. Sivert himself is all taken aback; first of all it was a surprise to see Jensine again, and now here's Eleseus going to leave the place altogether, not to say the world. ”What about s...o...b..rg?” says he. ”What'll you do with it?”
”Andresen can have it,” says Sivert.
”Andresen have it? How d'you mean?”
”Isn't he going to have Leopoldine?”
”Don't know about that. Ay; perhaps he is.”
They talk quietly, keep on talking. Sivert thinks it would be best if his father came out and Eleseus could talk to him himself; but ”No, no!” whispers Eleseus again; he was never much of a man to face a thing like that, but always must have a go-between.
Says Sivert: ”Well, mother, you know how 'tis with her. There'll be no getting any way with her for crying and talking on. She mustn't know.”
”No,” Eleseus agrees, ”she mustn't know.”
Sivert goes off, stays away for ages, and comes back with money, a heap of money. ”Here, that's all he has; think it'll be enough?
Count--he didn't count how much there was.”
”What did he say--father?”
”Nay, he didn't say much. Now you must wait a little, and I'll get some more clothes on and go down with you.”
”'Tis not worth while; you go and lie down.”
”Ho, are you frightened of the dark that I mustn't go away?” says Sivert, trying a moment to be cheerful.
He is away a moment, and comes back dressed, and with his father's food basket over his shoulder. As they go out, there is their father standing outside. ”So you're going all that way, seems?” says Isak.
”Ay,” answered Eleseus; ”but I'll be coming back again.”
”I'll not be keeping you now--there's little time,” mumbles the old man, and turns away. ”Good luck,” he croaks out in a strange voice, and goes off all hurriedly.
The two brothers walk down the road; a little way gone, they sit down to eat; Eleseus is hungry, can hardly eat enough. 'Tis a fine spring night, and the black grouse at play on the hilltops; the homely sound makes the emigrant lose courage for a moment. ”'Tis a fine night,”
says he. ”You better turn back now, Sivert,” says he.
”H'm,” says Sivert, and goes on with him.
They pa.s.s by s...o...b..rg, by Breidablik, and the sound follows them all the way from the hills here and there; 'tis no military music like in the towns, nay, but voices--a proclamation: Spring has come. Then suddenly the first chirp of a bird is heard from a treetop, waking others, and a calling and answering on every side; more than a song, it is a hymn of praise. The emigrant feels home-sick already, maybe, something weak and helpless in him; he is going off to America, and none could be more fitted to go than he.
”You turn back now, Sivert,” says he.
”Ay, well,” says his brother. ”If you'd rather.”
They sit down at the edge of the wood, and see the village just below them, the store and the quay, Brede's old lodging-house; some men are moving about by the steamer, getting ready.
”Well, no time to stay sitting here,” says Eleseus, getting up again.
”Fancy you going all that way,” says Sivert.