Part 42 (1/2)
”I'm to be turned out of the confirmation-cla.s.s,” Pelle managed to say, and then burrowed into the hay to keep back his tears.
”Oh, no, surely not!” La.s.se began to tremble. ”Whatever have you done?”
”I've half killed the parson's son.”
”Oh, that's about the worst thing you could have done--lift your hand against the parson's son! I'm sure he must have deserved it, but--still you shouldn't have done it. Unless he's accused you of thieving, for no honest man need stand that from any one, not even the king himself.”
”He--he called you Madam Olsen's concubine.” Pelle had some difficulty in getting this out.
La.s.se's mouth grew hard and he clenched his fists. ”Oh, he did! Oh, did he! If I had him here, I'd kick his guts out, the young monkey! I hope you gave him something he'll remember for a long time?”
”Oh, no, it wasn't very much, for he wouldn't stand up to me--he threw himself down and screamed. And then the parson came!”
For a little while La.s.se's face was disfigured with rage, and he kept uttering threats. Then he turned to Pelle. ”And they've turned you out? Only because you stood up for your old father! I'm always to bring misfortune upon you, though I'm only thinking of your good! But what shall we do now?”
”I won't stay here any longer,” said Pelle decidedly.
”No, let's get away from here; nothing has ever grown on this farm for us two but wormwood. Perhaps there are new, happy days waiting for us out there; and there are parsons everywhere. If we two work together at some good work out there, we shall earn a peck of money. Then one day we'll go up to a parson, and throw down half a hundred krones in front of his face, and it 'u'd be funny if he didn't confirm you on the spot--and perhaps let himself be kicked into the bargain. Those kind of folk are very fond of money.”
La.s.se had grown more erect in his anger, and had a keen look in his eyes. He walked quickly along the foddering pa.s.sage, and threw the things about carelessly, for Pelle's adventurous proposal had infected him with youth. In the intervals of their work, they collected all their little things and packed the green chest. ”What a surprise it'll be to-morrow morning when they come here and find the nest empty!” said Pelle gaily. La.s.se chuckled.
Their plan was to take shelter with Kalle for a day or two, while they took a survey of what the world offered. When everything was done in the evening, they took the green chest between them, and stole out through the outside door into the field. The chest was heavy, and the darkness did not make walking easier. They moved on a little way, changed hands, and rested. ”We've got the night before us!” said La.s.se cheerfully.
He was quite animated, and while they sat resting upon the chest talked about everything that awaited them. When he came to a standstill Pelle began. Neither of them had made any distinct plans for their future; they simply expected a fairy-story itself with its inconceivable surprises. All the definite possibilities that they were capable of picturing to themselves fell so far short of that which must come, that they left it alone and abandoned themselves to what lay beyond their powers of foresight.
La.s.se was not sure-footed in the dark, and had more and more frequently to put down his burden. He grew weary and breathless, and the cheerful words died away upon his lips. ”Ah, how heavy it is!” he sighed. ”What a lot of rubbish you do sc.r.a.pe together in the course of time!” Then he sat down upon the chest, quite out of breath. He could do no more. ”If only we'd had something to pick us up a little!” he said faintly. ”And it's so dark and gloomy to-night.”
”Help me to get it on my back,” said Pelle, ”and I'll carry it a little way.”
La.s.se would not at first, but gave in, and they went on again, he running on in front and giving warning of ditches and walls. ”Suppose Brother Kalle can't take us in!” he said suddenly.
”He's sure to be able to. There's grandmother's bed; that's big enough for two.”
”But suppose we can't get anything to do, then we shall be a burden on him.”
”Oh, we shall get something to do. There's a scarcity of laborers everywhere.”
”Yes, they'll jump at you, but I'm really too old to offer myself out.”
La.s.se had lost all hope, and was undermining Pelle's too.
”I can't do any more!” said Pelle, letting the chest down. They stood with arms hanging, and stared into the darkness at nothing particular.
La.s.se showed no desire to take hold again, and Pelle was now tired out.
The night lay dark around them, and its all-enveloping loneliness made it seem as if they two were floating alone in s.p.a.ce.
”Well, we ought to be getting on,” exclaimed Pelle, taking a handle of the chest; but as La.s.se did not move, he dropped it and sat down. They sat back to back, and neither could find the right words to utter, and the distance between them seemed to increase. La.s.se s.h.i.+vered with the night cold. ”If only we were at home in our good bed!” he sighed.
Pelle was almost wis.h.i.+ng he had been alone, for then he would have gone on to the end. The old man was just as heavy to drag along as the chest.