The Captain arrived.
I was giving the barn its second coat; at the sound of his voice I came
down from the ladder. He bade me welcome.
“Running away from your money like that!” he said. And I fancied he
looked at me with some suspicion as he asked: “What did you do that
for?”
I answered simply that I had no idea of presuming to make him a present
of my work; the money could stand over, that was all.
He brightened up at that.
“Yes, yes, of course. Well, I'm very glad you came. We must have the
flagstaff white, I suppose?”
I did not dare tell him at once all I wanted done in white, but simply
said:
“Yes. I've got hold of some white paint.”
“Have you, though? That's good. You've brought another man up with you,
I hear?”
“Yes. I don't know what Captain thinks....”
“He can stay. Nils has got him to work out in the fields already. And
anyhow, you all seem to do as you like with me,” he added jestingly.
“And you've been working with the lumbermen, have you?”
“Yes.”
“Hardly the sort of thing for you, was it?” Then, as if anxious not to
seem curious about my work with Engineer Lassen, he broke off abruptly
and said: “When are you going to start painting the house?”
“I thought of beginning this afternoon. It'll need scraping a bit here
and there.”
“Good. And if you find the woodwork loose anywhere, you can put in a
nail or so at the same time. Have you had a look at the fields?”
“Yes.”
“Everything's looking very nice. You men did good work last spring. Do
no harm now if we had a little rain for the upper lands.”
“Grindhusen and I passed lots of places on the way up that needed rain
more than here. It's clay bottom here, and far up in the hills.”
“That's true. How did you know that, by the way?”
“I looked about when I was here in the spring,” I answered, “and I did
a little digging here and there. I'd an idea you'd be wanting to have
water laid on to the house some time or other, so I went prospecting a
bit.”
“Water laid on? Well, yes, I did think of it at one time, but.... Yes, I
was going to have it done some years back; but I couldn't get everything
done at once, and then it was held up. And just now I shall want the
money for other things.”
A wrinkle showed between his eyes for a moment; he stood looking
down--in thought.
“Well, well, that thousand dozen battens ought to do it, and leave
something over,” he said suddenly. “Water? It would have to be laid on
to the outbuildings as well. A whole system of pipes.”
“There'd be no rock-work though, no blasting.”
“Eh? Oh, well, we'll see. What was I going to say? Did you have a good
time down there in the town? Not a big place, but you do see more people
there. And the railway brings visitors now and again, no doubt.”
“Aha,” I thought to myself, “he knows well enough what visitor came to
stay with Engineer Lassen this summer!” I answered that I did not care
much for the place--which was perfectly true.
“No, really?”
He seemed to find something to ponder over in that; he stared straight
in front of him, whistling softly to himself. Then he walked away.
The Captain was in good spirits; he had been more communicative than
ever before; he nodded to me as he went off. Just as of old he was
now--quick and determined, taking an interest in his affairs once more,
and sober as water. I felt cheered myself to see him so. He was no
wastrel; he had had a spell of foolishness and dissipation, but it
needed only his own resolution to put an end to that. An oar in the
water looks broken to the eye, but it is whole.
* * * * *
It set in to rain, and I had to stop work on the painting. Nils had been
lucky enough to get in all the hay that was cut; we got to work now on
the potatoes, all hands out in the fields at once, with the women folk
from the house as well.
Meanwhile the Captain stayed indoors all alone; it was dull enough; now
and again he would touch the keys of Fruen's piano. He came out once
or twice to where we were at work, and he carried no umbrella, but let
himself get drenched to the skin.
“Grand weather for the crops!” he would say; or again, “Looks like being
an extra special harvest this year!” But when he went back to the house
there was only himself and loneliness to meet him. “We're better off
ourselves than he is now,” said Nils.
So we worked away at the potatoes, and when they were done there were
the turnips. And by the time we were through with them the weather began
to clear. Ideal weather, all that one could wish for. Nils and I were as
proud of it all as if we owned the place.
And now the haymaking began in earnest: the maids were out, spreading in
the wake of the machine, and Grindhusen was set to work with a scythe in
the corners and awkward parts where the machine could not go. And I got
out my stone-grey paint and set about the house.
The Captain came up. “What colour's that you've got here?” he asked.
What could I say to that? I was nervous, I know, but my greatest fear
was lest I should not be allowed to paint it grey after all. As it was,
I said:
“Oh, it's only some ... I don't know ... it doesn't matter what we put
on for the first coat....”
That saved me for the time being, at any rate. The Captain said no more
about it then.
When I had done the house all grey, and doors and windows white, I
went down to the summer-house and did that the same. But it turned out
horrible to look at; the yellow underneath showed through and made it
a ghastly colour. The flagstaff I took down and painted a clean white.
Then I put in a spell of field-work with Nils and was haymaking for some
days. Early in August it was.
Now, when I went back to my painting again I had settled in my mind to
start on the house as early as possible, so as to be well on the way
with it before the Captain was up--too far, if I could manage it, to go
back! I started at three in the morning; there was a heavy dew, and I
had to rub the woodwork over with a bit of sack. I worked away for an
hour, and then had coffee, then on again till eight. I knew the Captain
would be getting up then, so I went off to help Nils for an hour and be
out of the way. I had done as much as I wanted, and my idea now was
to give the Captain time to get over the shock of my grey, in case he
should have got up in an irritable mood.
After breakfast I went back to work, and stood there on my ladder
painting away, as innocently as could be, when the Captain came up.
“Are you doing it over with grey again?” he called up.
“_Godmorgen_! Yes. I don't know if....”
“Now what's the meaning of all this? Come down off that ladder at once!”
I clambered down. But I was not anxious now. I had thought out something
to say that I fancied would prove effective at the right moment--unless
my judgment was altogether at fault.
I tried first of all to make out it didn't matter really what colour we
used for the second time either, but the Captain cut me short here and
said:
“Nonsense! Yellow on top of that grey will look like mud; you can see
that for yourself, surely.”
“Well, then, we might give it two coats of yellow,” I suggested.
“Four coats of paint? No, thank you! And all that white you've been
wasting! It's ever so much dearer than the yellow.”
This was perfectly true, and the very argument I had been fearing all
along. I answered now straight-forwardly:
“Let me paint it grey.”
“What?”
“It would look better. There's something about the house ... and with
the green of the woods behind ... the style of the place is....”
“Is grey, you mean?” He swung off impatiently a few steps and came back
again.
And then I faced him, more innocently than ever, with an inspiration
surely sent from above:
“Now I remember! Yes.... I've always seen it grey in my mind, ever since
one day--it was Fruen that said so....”
I was watching him closely; he gave a great start and stared at me
wide-eyed for a moment; then he took out his handkerchief and began
fidgeting with it at one eye as if to get out a speck or something.
“Indeed!” he said. “Did she say so?”
“Yes, I'm almost sure it was that. It's a long time back now, but....”
“Oh, nonsense!” he broke out abruptly, and strode away. I heard him
clearing his throat--hard--as he crossed the courtyard behind.
I stood there limply for a while, feeling anything but comfortable
myself. I dared not go on with the painting now, and risk making
him angry again. I went round to the back and put in an hour cutting
firewood. When I came round again, the Captain looked out from an open
window upstairs and called down:
“You may as well go on with it now you've got so far. I don't know what
possessed you, I'm sure. But get on with it now.”
The window had been open before, but he slammed it to and I went on with
the work.
A week passed. I spent my time between painting and haymaking.
Grindhusen was good enough at hoeing potatoes and using a rake here and
there, but not of much account when it came to loading hay. Nils himself
was a first-rate hand, and a glutton for work.
I gave the house a third coat, and the delicate grey, picked out with
white, made the place look nobler altogether. One afternoon I was at
work, the Captain came walking up from the road. He watched me for a
bit, then took out his handkerchief as if the heat troubled him, and
said:
“Yes, better go on with it now you've got so far. I must say she wasn't
far wrong about the colour. All nonsense though, really! H'm!”