"It's excellent soil!"
"Excellent, isn't it?"
"And matchless pastures!"
"Matchless pastures! Will it carry through?"
"It shall be the best farm in the district!"
"The best farm in the district? Do you think so? Do you mean it?"
"As true as I stand here."
"Just as I said!"
They both of them spoke equally quickly, and corresponded to each other
like a pair of wheels.
"But the money, you see, the money? I have no money."
"We shall get on slowly without money, but still we shall get on!"
"We shall get on! To be sure we shall get on! But things would improve
much quicker if we HAD money you say?"
"A very great deal quicker."
"A great deal? We should have had money; yes, yes; but one can chew
without all one's teeth; he who drives only with oxen still gets on."
The mother stood and winked at Thore, who often glanced up quickly at
her as he sat and rocked himself backwards and forwards, stroking his
hands down over his knees; the schoolmaster blinked at him.
Thore cleared his throat a little, and tried to begin, but Ole and
Ovind were talking so incessantly, laughing and making such a noise,
that it was impossible for any one else to be heard.
"Could you be quiet a little, Thore has something to say," breaks in
the schoolmaster, at which they stop and look at Thore.
At last he begins in a low tone, "It has happened that at this place we
have had a mill, and of late years it has happened we have had two.
From year to year we have always had a penny or two from these mills;
but neither my father nor I have touched the money, excepting that time
Ovind was away. The schoolmaster had it in charge, and he says it has
prospered,--but now it is best that Ovind should get it for
Nordistuen."
The mother stood in the corner, making herself quite little, as with a
face glowing with pleasure she gazed at Thore, who, on his part, sat
immoveable, and looking almost stupid; Ole Nordistuen sat in front of
him with gaping mouth; Ovind was the first to recover himself from the
surprise, and breaking out: "Good luck attends me!" went across the
room to his father, clapped him on the shoulder. "Oh father!" said he,
rubbed his hands, and went back again.
"How much money will it be?" Ole asked at last, speaking in a low tone
to the schoolmaster.
"Oh, not so very little."
"A few hundred?"
"More than that."
"More than that? Ovind, more than that! Good gracious, what a farm it
will be!" He rose up and laughed aloud.
"I must go up with you to see Marit," said Ovind, "we'll take the
chaise that is standing outside, and be quick there."
"Yes, quick, quick! Do you, then, want everything quick?"
"Yes, quick and rash."
"Quick and rash! Exactly as when I was young, exactly!"
"Here is your cap and stick, and now I'm going to turn you out!"
"You turn me out, ha, ha, ha! But you are coming with me, really, are
you not? The others must come too; we must sit together tonight so long
as there is a spark in the embers, come along!"
They promised. Ovind helped him up into the carriage, and they were off
to Nordistuen. The great dog was not the only one up there that was
astonished when Ole Nordistuen drove into the farmstead with Ovind
Pladsen. Whilst Ovind was helping him out of the carriage, and the
servants and laborers were staring with open mouths, Marit came out
into the passage to see what it was the dog was so incessantly barking
at; but when she saw, she stopped as though she were glued to the spot,
then grew desperately red, and ran in again. When old Ole got into the
room, however, he called out so terrifically to her, that she could do
no other than come forth again.
"Go and get ready, child, here is the one that shall have the farm!"
"Is it possible?" she exclaims almost without knowing it, and so loud
that it rang again.
"Yes, it is possible!" answers Ovind, clapping his hands; thereupon she
swings round on one foot, tosses that she has in her hand far away, and
runs out; Ovind follows.
The schoolmaster soon came with Thore and his wife; the old man had got
a lamp on the table, which was decked with a white cloth; he called for
wine and beer, and he, himself, went busily round and round, lifting
his legs even further up than usual, and still the right foot higher
than the left.
* * *
Before this little story is concluded, it may be told that five weeks
after, Ovind and Marit were married in Sognet's church. The
schoolmaster himself led the song that day, as the sexton was ill. His
voice was broken, for he was old, but Ovind thought it did him good to
hear him. And when he had given Marit his hand and led her up to the
altar, the schoolmaster nodded to him from the choir, just like Ovind
had pictured it, as he sat so depressed at that dance; he nodded back
again, while the tears would run down.
Those tears at the dance were the forerunners of these here, and
between them lay his faith and his work.
Here ends the story of Ovind.