The schoolmaster had judged well when he asked the pastor to prove
whether Ovind could bear to stand Number One. In the three weeks
intervening between this time and the confirmation he was with the lad
every day. It is one thing for a pure young heart to yield to an
impression, and another to hold fast the good qualities he possesses.
Many dark hours came to the lad before he learnt to build his future on
better things than vanity and pride. When sitting at his work he would
suddenly leave it, saying hopelessly,--"What is the use? What do I
gain?" But then a minute after, he would remember the kind words and
goodness of the schoolmaster, and so each time he lost sight of his
higher duties, he was enabled, by these human means, to bring them into
view again.
At the little farm they were preparing at the same time, for his
examination, and for his journey to the Agricultural School,--as the
day after the confirmation he was to set off. The tailor and the
shoemaker sat at work in the loft, the mother was baking in the
kitchen, and the father was busy with a trunk. They were querying as to
how much it would cost them in two years, and whether he could come
home the first Christmas, perhaps he could not even come the second,
and how hard it would be to be so long separated. They spoke also of
the love he should bear to his parents, when they strove so hard to put
their child forward. Ovind sat as one, who in his first trial at sea,
had upset the boat, and been picked up by kindly sailors.
Such a feeling brings humility, and with it many other things. As the
great day drew near, he felt himself to be fully prepared for it, and
looked hopefully to the future. Every time the image of Marit presented
itself to his mind, he strove carefully to put it aside, though it
always gave him pain to do it. By practice in it he sought to
strengthen himself, but instead he felt only a deeper pain. Therefore
he felt weary the last evening, when, after a long self-proving, he
prayed to God that in this matter He would not try him.
The schoolmaster came in in the evening. They all sat together, after
having prepared themselves as it is customary to do, the evening before
taking the Sacrament. The mother was much moved, and the father was
unusually silent; separation lay behind the festival of the morning,
and it was uncertain when they could all meet again. The schoolmaster
took the Psalm-book, they had a little service and sang, and then he
prayed from the heart as words came to him.
These four sat there until late in the evening; they gradually grew
silent, each occupied with his own thoughts; then they separated with
best wishes for the coming day, and the influence it would have.
Ovind thought when he went to rest that night that he had never been so
happy before, and he gave his own special interpretation to it; never
before, thought he, have I laid down so desirous of fulfilling God's
will and so trustful in it. Marit's face soon presented itself again,
and the last he remembered was, that he lay and proved himself:--not
quite happy, not quite;--and that he replied:--yes, quite;--but
again:--not quite;--yes, quite;--no; not quite.
When he awoke, he at once remembered what day it was; he prayed, and
felt refreshed, as one does in a morning. He rose in good time and
carefully tried on his new clothes, for he had never had such fine ones
before. There was a round jacket especially that seemed strange to him;
it was made of fine cloth, and he felt it again and again before he got
used to it. When he had put his collar on, and for the fourth time
tried on the jacket, he got hold of a little looking-glass, and,
catching sight of the beautiful hair encircling his own self-satisfied
face, it suddenly struck him that this again was vanity. Yes; but
people may surely be well-dressed and clean, he argued, as he turned
away from the glass as though it were sin to look in it. Well, but not
to think so much of themselves for it. No, certainly, but the Lord must
like that one should care to be tidy. That may be, but would He not
like better that you should look well without thinking so much about
it. Yes, but it's only because everything is so new. Well then,
by-and-bye you will forget it. Then he began in the same way to prove
himself first upon one point and then upon another, he felt so afraid
lest any sin should blot that day.
When he came down his parents were all ready and waiting breakfast for
him. He went up to them and thanked them for his new clothes; they
wished him the customary, "Health to wear them and strength to tear
them;" then they seated themselves at the table, said grace, and began
the meal. When they had finished, the mother cleared the table and
brought in the lunch basket for the journey to church. The father put
on his jacket, and the mother her shawl, they took the Psalm-books,
locked up the house and set off. On reaching the main road they met
with a great many going to church, some driving and some on foot,
a few of the candidates for confirmation among them, and now and then
white-haired grand-parents, who tried to get to church just this once
again.
It was an Autumn day without sunshine as, if the weather were about to
break. The clouds, met and parted again; great masses broke into small
patches, chasing each other far away and bearing with them orders for
rain; down on the earth it was still quiet, the leaves hung dead and
motionless, the air was a little oppressive; the people carried cloaks
but did not require to use them. A large concourse of people had
gathered round the solitary church; but the confirmation candidates all
went straight in, to be placed before the service began. Then the
schoolmaster in his blue dress coat and knickerbockers, high boots,
stiff neck-cloth, and pipe sticking out of his pocket, walked about,
nodding and smiling, patting one on the shoulder, and telling another
to answer clearly and distinctly, until he reached the lower end where
Ovind stood talking to his friend Hans, and answering all his questions
about the journey. "Good morning, Ovind, you look very well to-day." He
took hold of him by the coat saying confidentially, "I think a great
deal of you; I have been talking to the pastor, and you are to have
your right place as Number One; go up and take it and answer well."
Ovind looked up astonished at him; the schoolmaster nodded; the lad
went a few steps forward, then stopped, then a few more steps, then
stopped again; yes, it's true--he has spoken to the pastor for me,--and
the lad went straight on.
"You are Number One after all," whispered one.
"Yes," said Ovind in a low tone, but scarcely knew yet whether he dare
say it.
The placing being accomplished, and the pastor having come, the bell
rung and the people streamed into the church. Ovind looked up and saw
Marit Heidegaard standing straight opposite him. She also saw him, but
they both of them felt so awed by the sacredness of the place that they
dared not greet each other. He saw only that she was bright and
beautiful, and that she wore nothing on her head. Ovind, who for
half-a-year had had so many pleasant dreams of standing opposite to
her, now that it was really come to pass, forgot both the place and
her.
When all was over, his relations and friends came to offer their
congratulations; then his companions having heard that he was to travel
next day came to say good-bye; and many of the younger ones, whom he
had driven in the sledges, and whom he had assisted at school, cried a
little at the thought of his departure. At last Ovind and his parents
left for home accompanied by the schoolmaster. On the way there were
several more came to offer him their good wishes and to take leave;
otherwise they did not speak much till they sat again in the quiet room
at home.
The schoolmaster tried to help them to keep their courage up, but now
that it was come to the point, they all three, never before having been
parted for a single day, dreaded the separation for two whole years,
but none of them wished to shew their feelings. As the time passed on
Ovind grew worse and worse, and at last he went out of doors to quiet
himself.
It was growing dark, he stood upon the steps and looked up listening to
the gentle sighing of the wind. Then he heard his own name called down
from the ridge, quite softly, yet there was no mistaking it, it was
repeated twice. He looked up, and could just discern a woman's figure
looking down from among the trees.
"Who is that?" he asked.
"I hear you are going away," she said in a low tone, "so I thought I
would come and say good-bye to you, seeing you hadn't come to me."
"Dear, is that you, Marit! I'll come up to you."
"No, don't, I've been here so long, and then I should have to stay
still longer, and no one knows where I am, so I must be quick home."
"It was kind of you to come," said he.
"I couldn't bear that you should leave in that way Ovind; we have known
each other since we were children."
"Yes, we have."
"And now we haven't spoken to each other for half-a-year."
"No we haven't."
"We were separated so strangely that time too."
"Yes, I think I must come up to you."
"Oh no, don't! but tell me, I hope you are not grieved with me?"
"Dear, how could you think so?"
"Good-bye then Ovind, and thank you for all the pleasant times we have
had together!"
"Marit!"
"Yes, but now I must go, they will miss me.
"Marit,--Marit!"
"No, I daren't stay longer, Ovind; farewell!"
"Farewell!"
The rest of the evening he was, as it were, in a dream, answering
absently when they spoke to him. They attributed this to the thought of
his coming departure, which was quite a natural thing, and which
certainly did occupy his attention at the moment when the schoolmaster
took his leave, and slipped something into his hand, which he
afterwards found to be a five dollar piece. Soon, however, it passed
out of his mind, and he thought only of the words that had come down
from the ridge and gone up again.