Part 116 (1/2)

They moved restlessly about the room and spoke of the bad times and the increasing need. ”Yes, it's terrible that there isn't enough for everybody,” said Otto's wife.

”But the hard winter and the misery will come to an end and then things will be better again.”

”You mean we shall come to an end first?” said Otto, laughing despairingly.

”No, not we--this poverty, of course. Ach, you know well enough what I mean. But he's always like that,” she said, turning to Pelle.

”Curious, how you women still go about in the pious belief that there's not enough for all!” said Pelle. ”Yet the harbor is full of stacks of coal, and there's no lack of eatables in the shops. On the contrary--there is more than usual, because so many are having to do without--and you can see, too, that everything in the city is cheaper.

But what good is that when there's no money? It's the distribution that's all wrong.”

”Yes, you are quite right!” said Otto Stolpe. ”It's really d.a.m.nable that no one has the courage to help himself!”

Pelle heard Ellen go out through the kitchen door, and presently she came back with firing in her ap.r.o.n. She had borrowed it. ”I've sc.r.a.ped together just a last little bit of coal,” she said, going down on her knees before the stove. ”In any case it's enough to heat the water for a cup of coffee.”

Otto and his wife begged her urgently not to give herself any trouble; they had had some coffee before they left home--after a good solid breakfast. ”On Sundays we always have a solid breakfast,” said young Madam Stolpe; ”it does one such a lot of good!” While she was speaking her eyes involuntarily followed Ellen's every moment, as though she could tell thereby how soon the coffee would be ready.

Ellen chatted as she lit the fire. But of course they must have a cup of coffee; they weren't to go away with dry throats!

Pelle sat by listening in melancholy surprise; her innocent boasting only made their poverty more glaring. He could see that Ellen was desperately perplexed, and he followed her into the kitchen.

”Pelle, Pelle!” she said, in desperation. ”They've counted on stopping here and eating until the evening. And I haven't a sc.r.a.p in the house.

What's to be done?”

”Tell them how it is, of course!”

”I can't! And they've had nothing to eat to-day--can't you see by looking at them?” She burst into tears.

”Now, now, let me see to the whole thing!” he said consolingly. ”But what are you going to give us with our coffee?”

”I don't know! I have nothing but black bread and a little b.u.t.ter.”

”Lord, what a little donkey!” he said, smiling, and he took her face between his hands. ”And you stand there lamenting! Just you be cutting the bread-and-b.u.t.ter!”

Ellen set to work hesitatingly. But before she appeared with the refreshments they heard her bang the front door and go running down the steps. After a time she returned. ”Oh, Lord! Now the baker has sold out of white bread,” she said, ”so you must just have black bread-and-b.u.t.ter with your coffee.”

”But that's capital,” they cried. ”Black bread always goes best with coffee. Only it's a shame we are giving you so much trouble!”

”Look here,” said Pelle, at last. ”It may please you to play hide-and-seek with one another, but it doesn't me--I am going to speak my mind. With us things are bad, and it can't be any better with you.

Now how is it, really, with the old folks?”

”They are struggling along,” said Otto. ”They always have credit, and I think they have a little put by as well.”

”Then shan't we go there to-night and have supper? Otherwise I'm afraid we shan't get anything.”

”Yes, we will! It's true we were there the day before yesterday--but what does that matter? We must go somewhere, and at least it's sticking to the family!”

The cold had no effect on Pelle; the blood ran swiftly through his veins. He was always warm. Privation he accepted as an admonition, and merely felt the stronger for it; and he made use of his involuntary holiday to work for the Cause.