I started early in the morning with the two ladies in a closed carriage.
It was more than a trifle cold at first, and my woollen rug came in
very handy; I used it alternately to put over my knees and wrap round my
shoulders.
We drove the way I had walked up with Falkenberg, and I recognized place
after place as we passed. There and there he had tuned the pianos; there
we had heard the grey goose passing.... The sun came up, and it grew
warmer; the hours went by; then, coming to cross-roads, the ladies
knocked at the window and said it was dinner-time.
I could see by the sun it was too early for the ladies' dinner-time,
though well enough for me, seeing I took my dinner with Falkenberg at
noon. So I drove on.
“Can't you stop?” they cried.
“I thought ... you don't generally have dinner till three....”
“But we're hungry.”
I turned off aside from the road, took out the horses, and fed and
watered them. Had these strange beings set their dinner-time by mine?
“_Værsaagod_!”
But I felt I could not well sit down to eat with them, so I remained
standing by the horses.
“Well?” said Fruen.
“Thank you kindly,” said I, and waited to be served. They helped me,
both of them, as if they could never give me enough. I drew the corks of
the beer bottles, and was given a liberal share here as well; it was
a picnic by the roadside--a little wayfaring adventure in my life. And
Fruen I dared look at least, for fear she should be hurt.
And they talked and jested with each other, and now and again with
me, out of their kindliness, that I might feel at ease. Said Frøken
Elisabeth:
“Oh, I think it's just lovely to have meals out of doors. Don't you?”
And here she said _De_, instead of _Du_, as she had said before.
“It's not so new to him, you know,” said Fruen; “he has his dinner out
in the woods every day.”
Eh, but that voice of hers, and her eyes, and the womanly, tender
look of the hand that held the glass towards me.... I might have said
something in turn--have told them this or that of strange things from
out in the wide world, for their amusement; I could have set those
ladies right when they chattered on, all ignorant of the way of riding
camels or of harvest in the vineyards....
I made haste to finish my meal, and moved away. I took the buckets and
went down for more water for the horses, though there was no need. I sat
down by the stream and stayed there.
After a little while Fruen called:
“You must come and stand by the horses; we are going off to see if we
can find some wild hops or something nice.”
But when I came up they decided that the wild hops were over, and there
were no rowan berries left now, nor any richly coloured leaves.
“There's nothing in the woods now,” said Frøkenen. And she spoke to me
directly once again: “Well, there's no churchyard here for you to roam
about in.”
“No.”
“You must miss it, I should think.” And then she went on to explain to
Fruen that I was a curious person who wandered about in graveyards by
night and held meetings with the dead. And it was there I invented my
machines and things.
By way of saying something, I asked about young Erik. He had been thrown
by a runaway horse and badly hurt....
“He's better now,” said Frøkenen shortly.--“Are you ready to go on again,
Lovise?”
“Yes, indeed. Can we start?”
“Whenever you please,” I answered.
And we drove on again.
The hours pass, the sun draws lower down the sky, and it is cooler--a
chill in the air; then later wind and wet, half rain, half snow. We
passed the annexe church, a couple of wayside stores, and farm after
farm.
Then came a knocking on the window of the carriage.
“Wasn't it here you went riding one night on borrowed horses?” said
Frøkenen laughingly. “Oh, we know all about it, never fear!”
And both the ladies were highly amused.