Part 121 (1/2)

Yes, Pelle had chosen readily enough! He knew very well that he must accept this good fortune, whatever the world might say to it. Only it hurt him to leave the others behind! He was bound to poverty by such intimate ties; he felt the solidarity of the poor so keenly that it hurt him to tear himself away. Common cares had made him a man, and the struggle had given him a peculiar and effective strength. But now he would attend no more meetings! It would be droll indeed if he were to have nothing more to do with the Cause, but were to belong to the other side--he, Pelle, who had been a flaming torch! No, he would never leave them in the lurch, that he knew; even if he were to climb ever so high--and he entertained no doubts as to that--he would always feel for his old comrades and show them the way to obtain good relations between worker and employer.

Ellen saw how serious he was--perhaps she guessed that he was feeling remorseful. She would help him to get over that.

”Can't we have your father here to-morrow?” she said. ”He can lie on the long chair in the living-room until we move into our new home. It isn't right to let him stay where he is, and in your new situation you couldn't do it.”

XXVII

The unrest increased in the workshops round about; no one who had anything to do with the organization felt really secure. It was evidently the intention of the employers to drive the workers to extremes, and thereby to force them to break the peace. ”They want to destroy the trades unions, so that they can sc.r.a.pe the b.u.t.ter off our bread again,” said the workers. ”They think it'll be easier now that the winter has made us thankful for a dry crust! But that's an infernal lie!”

The ma.s.ses grew more and more embittered; everywhere they were ready for a fight, and asked nothing better than to plunge into it. The women wept and shuddered; most of them understood only that the sufferings of the winter were going to begin all over again. They took desperate steps to prevent this; they threw their shawls over their heads and rushed off to the offices, to the manufacturers, and pleaded with them to avert the disaster. The central Committee counselled a peaceful demeanor and caution. Everything depended upon their having the right on their side in the opinion of the public.

It was easy for Pelle to follow all that was happening, although he now stood outside the whole movement. He went to work in his good clothes and elastic-sided boots, and did not need to arrive before seven, while the others had to be there at six--which at once altered his point of view.

He would soon be trusted with rule and compa.s.ses; for the present he was kept busy copying a few worn-out working-drawings, or ”filling in.”

He felt in a curiously exalted frame of mind--as though he had been slightly intoxicated; this was the first time in his life that he had been employed on work that was of a clean nature and allowed him to wear good clothes. It was particularly curious to survey life from where he stood; a new perspective lay open before him. The old life had nothing in prospect but a miserable old age; but this led upward. Here he could achieve what he willed--even the highest place! What if he finally crept up to the very topmost point, and established an eight-hour day and a decent day's wage? Then he would show them that one could perfectly well climb up from below without forgetting his origin and becoming a bloodsucker! They should still drink to the health of Pelle, their good comrade, although he would have left their ranks.

At home there was much to be done; as soon as he crossed the threshold he was the prisoner of Ellen's hundred and one schemes. He must have a new suit of clothes--a gray suit for the office, and more linen; and at least twice a week he must go to the barber; he could no longer sit down and sc.r.a.pe himself with an old razor with an edge like a saw. Pelle was made to feel that it was not so easy after all to become an ”upper-cla.s.ser,” as he called it.

And all this cost money. There was the same searching, the same racking of one's brains to find the necessary s.h.i.+llings as during the dearth of the winter famine; but this time it was quite amusing; there was a cheerful purpose in it all, and it would only last until he had properly settled down. La.s.se looked very respectable; he was wearing Pelle's second-best suit, which Ellen had cleaned for him, and a black watered silk cravat, with a white waterproof collar, and well-polished slippers on his feet. These last were his old watertight boots--those in which Pelle had left Stone Farm. They were still in existence, but had been cut down to form house-slippers. The legs of them now formed part of a pair of clogs.

La.s.se was happiest with the children, and he looked quite an aged grandfather now, with his wrinkled face and his kind glance, which was now a little weak-sighted. When Young La.s.se hid himself in the opposite corner of the room Father La.s.se could not see him, and the young rascal took advantage of the fact; he could never understand those eyes, which could not see farther than across the table, and was always asking questions about them.

”It's because I have seen too much misery in my life,” the old man would always reply.

Otherwise he was quite overflowing with happiness, and his old worn-out body manifested its grat.i.tude, for he began to put on flesh again; and his cheeks had soon grown quite full. He had a peculiar knack for looking after the children; Pelle and Ellen could feel quite easy as they went about their mult.i.tudinous affairs. There were a hundred things that had to be seen to before they could move into the new home. They thought of raising a loan of a few hundred kroner. ”Father will go security for us,” said Ellen.

”Yes, then I should have the means of taking proper drawing-lessons,”

said Pelle; ”I particularly need to get thoroughly grounded.”

On Sat.u.r.day the term of the old tariff expired. The temper of the workers was badly strained, but each completed his work, and contained himself and waited. At noon the foreman went round asking each man for his answer. They refused all information, as agreed, but in the afternoon three men formed a deputation and entered the office, asking if they could speak with the manager. As he entered Munck, the engine-driver, stepped forward as spokesman, and began: ”We have come in the name of our comrades.” He could get no further; the manager let fly at him, pointing to the stairs, and crying, ”I don't argue with my work-people!”

So they went down again. The men stared up at them--this was quick work!

The burly Munck moved his lips, as though he were speaking, but no one could hear a word on account of the frightful din of the machinery. With a firm stride he went through the shop, picked up a hammer, and struck three blows on the great steel gong. They sounded like the stroke of doom, booming through the whole factory. At the same moment the man's naked, blackened arms were lifted to strike the belts from the live pulleys. The machinery ceased running, and the roar of it died away; it was as still as though Death had pa.s.sed through the workshop. The dense network of belts that crossed the shop in all directions quivered and hung slack; the silence yawned horribly in the great room.

The foremen ran from bench to bench, shouting and hardly knowing what to do. Word was sent to the office, while the workers went to their buckets and washed themselves, silent and melancholy as a funeral procession.

Their faces were uncommunicative. Did they perhaps foresee that those three blows were the signal for a terrible conflict? Or were they merely following their first angry impulse? They knew enough, at all events; it was stamped upon their faces that this was fate--the inevitable. They had summoned the winter because they were driven to it, and the winter would return once more to ravage his victims.

They reappeared, washed and clean, each with his bundle under his arm, and stood in silence waiting their turn to be paid. The foreman ran to and fro apportioning the wages with nervous hands, comparing time-sheets and reckoning the sum due to each. The manager came down the stairs of his office, proud and unapproachable, and walked through the shop; the workers made way for him. He looked sharply around him, as though he would imprint the likeness of every individual worker on his mind, laid his hand on the shoulder of one of the foremen, and said in a loud voice, so that all heard him, ”Make haste, now, Jacobsen, so that we can be rid of these fellows quickly!” The workers slowly turned their serious faces toward him, and here and there a fist was clenched. They left the factory one by one, as soon as they were paid.

Outside they gathered in little groups, and relieved their feelings by giving vent to significant exclamations. ”Did you see the old man? He was savage, he was; he'll hold out quite a while before we get back again!”

Pelle was in a curious frame of mind; he knew that now the fight had begun; first blood had been drawn, and one blow would follow on another.

Young La.s.se, who heard his step on the stairs, ran into his arms as he reached home; but Pelle did not notice him.

”You are so solemn!” said Ellen, ”has anything happened?” He told her quietly.