Part 81 (1/2)

They collected their things and set off. La.s.se walked behind the others, talking to himself; from time to time he broke out into lamentation.

Then Pelle turned back to him in silence and took his hand.

”There is no one to help us and give us good advice. On the contrary, they'd gladly see us lose life and fortune if they could only earn a few s.h.i.+llings on that account. Even the authorities won't help the poor man.

He's only there so that they can all have a cut at him and then each run off with his booty. What do they care that they bring need and misery and ruin upon us? So long as they get their taxes and their interest! I could stick them all in the throat, in cold blood!”

So he continued a while, increasing in bitterness, until he broke down like a little child.

XXVI

They lived with Sort, who had his own little house in the outermost suburb. The little travelling cobbler did not know what to do for them: La.s.se was so dejected and so aimless. He could not rest; he did not recover; from time to time he broke out into lamentation. He had grown very frail, and could no longer lift his spoon to his mouth without spilling the contents. If they tried to distract him, he became obstinate.

”Now we must see about fetching your things,” they would both say repeatedly. ”There is no sense in giving your furniture to the parish.”

But La.s.se would not have them sent for. ”They've taken everything else from me; they can take that, too,” he said. ”And I won't go out there again--and let myself be pitied by every one.”

”But you'll beggar yourself,” said Sort.

”They've done that already. Let them have their way. But they'll have to answer for it in the end!”

Then Pelle procured a cart, and drove over himself to fetch them. There was quite a load to bring back. Mother Bengta's green chest he found upstairs in the attic; it was full of b.a.l.l.s of thread. It was so strange to see it again--for many years he had not thought of his mother. ”I'll have that for a travelling trunk,” he thought, and he took it with him.

La.s.se was standing before the door when he returned.

”See, I've brought everything here for you, father!” he cried, l.u.s.tily cracking his whip. But La.s.se went in without saying a word. When they had unloaded the cart and went to look for him, he had crawled into bed.

There he lay with his face to the wall, and would not speak.

Pelle told him all sorts of news of Heath Farm, in order to put a little life into him. ”Now the parish has sold Heath Farm to the Hill Farm man for five thousand kroner, and they say he's got a good bargain. He wants to live there himself and to leave Hill Farm in his son's hands.”

La.s.se half turned his head. ”Yes, something grows there now. Now they are making thousands--and the farmer will do better still,” he said bitterly. ”But it's well-manured soil. Karna overstrained herself and died and left me.... And we went so well in harness together. Her thousand kroner went into it, too ... and now I'm a poor wreck. All that was put into the barren, rocky soil, so that it became good and generous soil. And then the farmer buys it, and now he wants to live there--we poor lice have prepared the way for him! What else were we there for?

Fools we are to excite ourselves so over such a thing! But, how I loved the place!” La.s.se suddenly burst into tears.

”Now you must be reasonable and see about becoming cheerful again,” said Sort. ”The bad times for the poor man will soon be over. There is a time coming when no one will need to work himself to death for others, and when every one will reap what he himself has sown. What injury have you suffered? For you are on the right side and have thousands of kroner on which you can draw a bill. It would be still worse if you owed money to others!”

”I haven't much more time,” said La.s.se, raising himself on his elbows.

”Perhaps not, you and I, for those who start on the pilgrimage must die in the desert! But for that reason we are G.o.d's chosen people, we poor folk. And Pelle, he will surely behold the Promised Land!”

”Now you ought to come in, father, and see how we have arranged it,”

said Pelle.

La.s.se stood up wearily and went with them. They had furnished one of Sort's empty rooms with La.s.se's things. It looked quite cozy.

”We thought that you would live here until Pelle is getting on well 'over there,'” said Sort. ”No, you don't need to thank me! I'm delighted to think I shall have society, as you may well understand.”

”The good G.o.d will repay it to you,” said La.s.se, with a quavering voice.

”We poor folk have no one but Him to rely on.”