After a while I heard Fru Falkenberg's voice outside in front of the
house; my window was open, and she spoke loudly enough. The engineer was
with her, putting in a word now and again. Fruen was in raptures over
the weather, so fine it was, and such a warm night. Oh, it was lovely
out now--ever so much nicer than indoors!
But her voice seemed a trifle less clear now than before.
I ran to the window, and saw the pair of them standing by the steps that
led down to the shrubbery. The engineer seemed to have something on
his mind that he had not been able to get said before. “Do listen to
me now,” he said. Then followed a brief and earnest pleading, which
was answered--ay, and rewarded. He spoke as if to one hard of hearing,
because she had been deaf to his words so long; they stood there by the
stone steps, neither of them caring for any one else in the world. Let
any listen or watch who pleased; the night was theirs, the world was
theirs, and the spring-time was about them, drawing them together.
He watched her like a cat; every movement of her body set his blood
tingling; he was ready to spring upon her in a moment. And when it came
near to action there was a power of will in his manner towards her. Ay,
the young spark!
“I've begged and prayed you long enough,” he said breathlessly.
“Yesterday you all but would; today you're deaf again. You think you
and Bror and Tante [Footnote: “Auntie.” Evidently Captain Bror's lady is
meant.] and the rest are to have a good time and no harm done, while
I look on and play the nice young man? But, by Heaven, you're wrong!
Here's you yourself, a garden of all good things right in front of me,
and a fence ... do you know what I'm going to do now with that silly
fence?”
“What are you going to do? No, Hugo, you've had too much to drink this
evening. You're so young. We've both drunk more than we ought,” she
said.
“And then you play me false into the bargain, with your tricks. You send
a special messenger for a letter that simply can't wait, and at the same
time you're cruel enough to let me think ... to promise me....”
“I'll never do it again, Hugo.”
“Never do it again? What do you mean by that? When you can go up to a
man--yes, to me, and kiss me like you did.... What's the good of saying
you'll never do it any more; it's done, and a kiss like that's not a
thing to forget. I can feel it still, and it's a mad delight, and I
thank you for it You've got that letter in your dress; let me see it.”
“You're so excited, Hugo. No, it's getting late now. We'd better say
good-night.”
“Will you show me that letter?”
“Show you the letter? Certainly not!”
At that he made a half-spring, as if to take it by force, but checked
himself, and snapped out:
“What? You won't? Well, on my word you are.... Mean's not the word for
it. You're something worse....”
“Hugo!”
“Yes, you are!”
“If you _will_ see the letter, here it is!” She thrust her hand into her
blouse, took out the letter, opened it, and waved it at him, flourishing
her innocence. “Here's the letter--from my mother; there's her
signature--look. From mother--and now what have you to say?”
He quailed as if at a blow, and only said:
“From your mother. Why, then, it didn't matter at all?”
“No; there you are. Oh, but of course it did matter in a way, but
still....”
He leaned up against the fence, and began to work it out:
“From your mother.... I see. A letter from your mother came and
interrupted us. Do you know what I think? You've been cheating. You've
been fooling me all along. I can see it all now.”
She tried again.
“It was an important letter. Mama is coming--she's coming here to stay
very soon. And I was waiting to hear.”
“You were cheating all the time, weren't you?” he said again. “Let them
bring in the letter just at the right moment, when we'd put out the
light. Yes, that's it. You were just leading me on, to see how far I'd
go, and kept your maid close at hand to protect you.”
“Oh, do be sensible! It's ever so late; we must go in.”
“Ugh! I had too much to drink up there, I think. Can't talk straight
now.”
He could think of nothing but the letter, and went on about it again:
“For there was no need to have all that mystery about a letter from
home. No; I see it all now. Want to go in, you say? Well then, go in,
Fru, by all means. _Godnat, Frue_. My dutiful respects, as from a son.”
He bowed, and stood watching her with a sneering smile.
“A son? Oh yes,” she replied, with sudden emotion. “I am old, yes. And
you are so young, Hugo, that's true. And that's why I kissed you. But
I couldn't be your mother--no, it's only that I'm older, ever so much
older than you. But I'm not quite an old woman yet, and that you should
see if only . . . But I'm older than Elisabet and every one else. Oh,
what am I talking about? Not a bit of it. I don't know what else the
years may have done to me, but they haven't made me an old woman yet.
Have they? What do you think yourself? Oh, but what do you know about
it? . . .”
“No, no,” he said softly. “But is there any sense in going on like this?
Here are you, young as you are, with nothing on earth to do all the time
but keep guard over yourself and get others to do the same. And the Lord
in heaven knows you promised me a thing, but it means so little to you;
you take a pleasure in putting me off and beating me down with your
great white wings.”
“Great white wings,” she murmured to herself.
“Yes, you might have great red wings. Look at yourself now, standing
there all lovely as you are, and all for nothing.”
“Oh, I think the wine has gone to my head! All for nothing, indeed!”
Then suddenly she takes his hand and leads him down the steps. I can
hear her voice: “Why should I care? Does he imagine Elisabet's so much
better?”
They pass along the path to the summer-house. Here she hesitates, and
stops.
“Oh, where are we going?” she asks. “Haha, we must be mad! You wouldn't
have thought I was mad, would you? I'm not, either--that is to say, yes,
I am, now and again. There, the door's locked; very well, we'll go away
again. But what a mean trick to lock the door, when we want to go in.”
Full of bitterness and suspicion, he answered:
“Now, you're cheating again. You knew well enough the door was locked.”
“Oh, must you always think the worst of me? But why should he lock the
door so carefully and have the place all to himself? Yes, I _did_ know
it was locked, and that's why I came with you. I dare not. No, Hugo, I
won't, I mean it. Oh, are you mad? Come back!”
She took his hand again and tried to turn back; they stood struggling
a little, for he would not follow. Then in his passion and strength
he threw both arms round her and kissed her again and again. And she
weakened ever more and more, speaking brokenly between the kisses:
“I've never kissed any other man before--never! It's true--I swear it.
I've never kissed....”
“No, no, no,” he answers impatiently, drawing her step by step the way
he will.
Outside the summer-house he looses his hold of her a moment, flings
himself, one shoulder forward, heavily against the door, and breaks it
open for the second time. Then in one stride he is beside her once more.
Neither speaks.
But even at the door, she checks again--stands clinging to the
door-post, and will not move.
“No, no, I've never been unfaithful to him yet. I won't; I've
never--never....”
He draws her to him suddenly, kisses her a full minute, two minutes, a
deep, unbroken kiss; she leans back from the waist, her hand slips where
it holds, and she gives way....
A white mist gathers before my eyes. So ... they have come to it now.
Now he takes her, has his will and joy of her....
A melancholy weariness and rest comes over me. I feel miserable and
alone. It is late; my heart has had its day....
Through the white mist comes a leaping figure; it is Ragnhild coming up
from among the bushes, running with her tongue thrust out.
* * * * *
The engineer came up to me, nodded _Godmorgen_, and asked me to mend the
summer-house door.
“Is it broken again?”
“Yes, it got broken last night.”
It was early for him to be about--no more than halfpast four; we
farm-hands had not yet started for the fields. His eyes showed small and
glittering, as if they burned; likely enough he had not slept all night.
But he said nothing as to how the door had got broken.
Not for any thought of him, but for Captain Falkenberg's sake, I went
down at once to the summer-house and mended the door once again. No need
for such haste, maybe; the Captain had a long drive there and back, but
it was close on twenty-four hours now since he started.
The engineer came down with me. Without in the least perceiving how it
came about, I found myself thinking well of him; he had broken open that
door last night--quite so, but he was not the man to sneak out of it
after. He and no one other it was who had it mended. Eh, well, perhaps
after all 'twas only my vanity was pleased. I felt flattered at his
trusting to my silence. That was it. That was how I came to think well
of him.
“I'm in charge of some timber-rafting on the rivers,” he said. “How long
are you staying here?”
“Not for long. Till the field-work's over for the season.”
“I could give you work if you'd care about it.”
Now this was work I knew nothing of, and, what was more, I liked to be
among field and forest, not with lumbermen and proletariat. However, I
thanked him for the offer.
“Very good of you to come and put this right. As a matter of fact, I
broke it open looking for a gun. I wanted to shoot something, and I
thought there might be a gun in there.”
I made no answer; it would have pleased me better if he had said
nothing.
“So I thought I'd ask you before you started out to work,” he said, to
finish off.
I put the lock right and set it in its place again, and began nailing up
the woodwork, which was shattered as before. While I was busy with this,
we heard Captain Falkenberg's voice; through the bushes we could see him
unharnessing the horses and leading them in.
The engineer gave a start; he fumbled for his watch, and got it out, but
his eyes had grown all big and empty--they could see nothing. Suddenly
he said:
“Oh, I forgot, I must . . .”
And he hurried off far down the garden.
“So he's going to sneak out of it, after all,” I thought to myself.
A moment later the Captain himself came down. He was pale, and covered
with dust, and plainly had not slept, but perfectly sober. He called to
me from a distance:
“Hei! how did you get in there?”