WHEN Norby entered the hall, the first thing he noticed was that
Herlufsen was not among the guests; but all the other magnates were
there, and there was a general greeting when he appeared.
It was a large, airy hall, and the setting sun shone through the long
windows that looked out upon the fjord, and formed three broad bands
of light across the floor, upon which the festively attired guests
moved, either through the dark or through the gold. There was a hum of
conversation, and there was a continual cracking of whips outside,
where fresh carriages were driving up to the steps, or off towards the
roads.
Among the dress-coated farmers, who cautiously kept close to the
walls, while they glanced at the long table decorated with flowers,
strutted the owner of the saw-mills, a stout man, with a gold chain
dangling upon his expansive waistcoat. He laughed loudly, and his red
face shone; for when he had heard that there was nothing to be got
here but home-made wine, he had indulged a little before he left home.
"Ladies and gentlemen," he said, with a wave of his hand, "I don't
think you're in a properly festive mood yet."
The magistrate, a stout man with silvery hair and beard, took Norby by
the arm and pointed out the walls. They were decorated with flags and
garlands of leaves; and here and there, in place of arms, were old,
artistic, domestic articles, such as painted and carved harness and
saddles, wooden spoons and bowls with flowers painted on them. Fru
Thora had lent the rudiments of her country museum.
"Look here!" said the magistrate, with a pleasant little laugh. "Isn't
that pretty? There's Norwegian nature in the greenery, freedom in the
flags, and our northern culture in all the rest. The combination forms
a beautiful harmony."
"Yes, it's quite pretty," said Norby, with a slight yawn. Suddenly he
felt his coat-tails pulled, and turning round he found two old
acquaintances smiling at him, both farmers from up the valley, who had
been jurymen at the trial.
"What, have you come all this way?" said Norby, taking them by the
hand.
They told him that Wangen was supposed to be busy upon a fresh
newspaper article, which accused the jurymen of partiality, and when
they heard that, they were so angry that--that they set their teeth,
and came to the dinner too.
But now Norby was led to the table. At one end of the long table a
kind of raised seat had been arranged for the guest of honour; and on
one side of him sat his wife, on the other the wife of the magistrate.
When he looked down the table, and all the handsome women in gay silk
bodices, and male notorieties with wide shirt-fronts, he could not
help turning his head to his wife and whispering: "This is just like
what we had at our silver wedding."
During the soup, Einar got into a discussion with a member of the
Storthing, who sat opposite him. Several others took part in the
discussion, and Einar grew angry, but suddenly he felt as if an
invisible hand had struck him, and a voice within him said: "Yes, be
severe in your judgment of others, Einar, you who are such a hero
yourself!" And he instantly bowed his head and was silent; and he felt
the blood mount to his face.
Laura, true enough, had been paired with the bailiff's son; and though
he had not yet noticed her new dress, she still felt that everything
was wrapped in a wonderful golden mist, and she had a vague notion
that this was her own wedding.
"After dinner you must help me with something," he said to her.
"What is it?" she asked curiously, as she tried to push an obstinate
wave of hair off her forehead.
"I won't tell you now. You must wait."
When the joint was served, the schoolmaster rose and tapped his glass.
This was Fru Thora's great moment, and she felt her heart beat with
joy and pride, for there had been so much ill-will between the
schoolmaster Heggen and Knut Norby. Now Heggen was standing there, and
was going to make a speech in honour of his enemy. This was her work.
And there had been many misunderstandings between the schoolmaster and
the old magistrate; but she had made Heggen take the magistrate's
daughter in to dinner; for they should all be friends this evening,
and learn to understand one another.
Looking at the speaker, "Isn't he handsome?" she whispered to the
gentleman who had taken her in. The sun was just sinking, and its last
rays played upon the glass on the table, and made the tulips in the
large bouquets glow.
Forks were laid down and faces turned towards the schoolmaster's tall
figure. His voice vibrated with emotion, and Fru Thora thought she had
never heard him speak so beautifully as now when he was making a
speech in honour of his old enemy. He called this dinner an event in
the district. He held his glass in one hand, and with the other
fingered his long beard, and looked at nothing in particular through
his spectacles, while the sun threw a ray of light across his fine
forehead.
This was an event, because he had never seen so many dissimilar people
united in a common object, a common desire to do good. There were
still Birkebeins and Baglers to divide people in this country; but
this evening he seemed to read a message of spring in this festive
meeting. Like Olaf at Stiklestad, he seemed to be looking out over the
whole country with its blue hills and shining fjords, over farms and
lands, and into the many minds; and he descried the day when all men
would be united in a sabbath atmosphere, with hands joined in
brotherhood, united in waging war against the powers of evil, united
in helping those who had suffered wrong. "Whatever religion we
profess, or party we belong to, we shall henceforward agree in
considering that the human in man is higher than all difference of
opinion; and when the human being, Norby, suffers persecution and
derogation, as he has lately done, we hasten to him, enclose him in a
chain of fraternity, and say: 'Here are we, your brothers and sisters,
Knut Norby; we will wash you clean. Here we are!'"
Scarcely a breath was heard during the impressive speech, until the
sound of gentle weeping was heard a little way up the table. It was
Fru Heggen, who always cried when her husband made a speech.
Gradually several faces turned from the speaker to the guests of the
evening. Fru Norby sat with her eyes full of tears, and smiled; but
Norby looked down, and modestly shook his head, as if to say, "You
mustn't say anything more, Heggen."
When at length the speech came to an end, and the guests rose to drink
with the guests of honour, the saw-mill owner roared: "Long live Norby
and Fru Norby! Hip, hip!" And his abandonment to the spirit of the
occasion was quickly followed, and the hurrahs rang.
Ingeborg sat and looked on with tears in her eyes. Her joy was
unbounded, she thought how patiently her father had borne all the
persecution; she thought of her prayers, and involuntarily looked
upwards, saying to herself: "My God, I thank Thee for answering my
prayers." She seemed to see a host of good, protecting spirits, above
the heads of her parents up there. Her mother looked at her; they both
had tears in their eyes and smiled. They remembered the night when
they dared not go to bed after the riots at Norby.
To Marit Norby it seemed now as if all evil, all suspicion were
melting and must be wept out; and it felt so delightful that she could
not help smiling all the time.
But worse was to come, when Fru Thora of Lidarende rose, after the
knives and forks had clattered for a time, and made a speech in her
honour. It was a woman's and a mother's heart beating with hers.
Mention was made of her struggle to keep up her husband's courage in
adversity, even while she was nursing her son through a dangerous
illness. It was a great deed, a woman's heroic action, such as is
seldom mentioned at festive entertainments, but is often, very often
performed in secret.
No one had ever heard such eloquence in a woman. She stood there,
slim, youthful in appearance despite her five and forty years, full of
fire and warmth of feeling. Her hearers were astonished that this
feeling did not overwhelm her and make her burst into tears; but she
stood and smiled all the time, although her eyes were wet. Every one
had to acknowledge that she was handsome, in her plain black dress and
little white lace collar about her neck. It was no wonder that she
showed feeling, for she was thinking all the time of her own son, the
little Gunnar of Lidarende, who was in bed with whooping cough.
The toasting and cheers for Fru Norby were deafening; but she burst
into audible weeping, for it was true. It had been a hard time.
At the mention of his mother and his illness, Einar was also touched,
and went up and drank with his parents.
It had gradually grown so dark that the large hanging lamps over the
table had to be lighted; and although there was nothing but home-made
wine, spirits had risen, so that most of the faces shone red in the
lamplight, the conversation was lively, and the laughter resounded.
The two jurymen were seated at the lower end of the table. One of them
now said cautiously to the other: "Isn't it customary to chair the
guest of honour?"
"We musn't be in a hurry," said the other as cautiously.
"What was it we called Norby, when we were at the agricultural school
with him?"
"Fatty," said the other, surreptitiously taking up a bone in his
fingers. His companion began to laugh; for it was so amusing to think
that they had once been so intimate with Norby as to call him Fatty.
But now a silence fell on the assembly when Norby himself tapped his
glass. He rose, a little red in the face, and looked first at Marit
and then at the company assembled. His voice was hoarse when he said:
"I must return thanks both for myself and my wife. And now I will ask
you to drink to the health of one of whom I cannot help thinking this
evening--the judge." And when the health had been drunk, Fru Thora
cried enthusiastically: "Long live the judge! Long live the jury!"
This evoked loud applause, and the saw-mill owner led the enthusiasm
with his hip, hip. One of the jurymen started up, saying: "Come! Now
we'll take him!" "Don't be in a hurry!" said the other. "Yes," said
the first. "We'll show people that we repudiate Wangen's charge of
partiality!"
At this the other rose, too, and they both stole up to take Norby by
the arms. At first the old man resisted strenuously, but when one of
the jurymen said: "Come now, Fatty," memories of younger days were
called up, and he laughed and gave in. The whole company shouted when
he was carried round; and when he had got back to his seat, Fru Thora
got up and said to a young farmer's wife: "Then Fru Norby shall be
carried round too!" And they rushed up and took Marit by the arms, and
the enthusiasm increased, except with the saw-mill owner, where it
gradually began to come to a sad end. While the others grew merrier as
they ate and drank home-made wine, his spirits began to go down more
and more, and he whispered to the magistrate: "Don't you think we
shall have a little something with the coffee?"
The magistrate shook his head, and the mill-owner sighed deeply, and
wiped his forehead.
"I say," said Norby to his wife; "it's strange that Herlufsen isn't
here!"
"How naughty you are!" whispered Marit, laughing; and the old man
chuckled.
More speeches followed, the best being one by a young teacher in
honour of his country. The national song was then sung standing,
several taking parts; and finally Pastor Borring rose. He knew that he
was expected to say something, and although his presence had been well
considered, he felt strangely oppressed. After Wangen had made use of
a forged letter in court, he understood of course that his first
supposition had been correct, and that Lars Kleven's confession had
only been the crotchet of a dying man; but nevertheless he could not
help thinking of Wangen, and to the surprise of every one he now began
to speak of him. He asked those present to give a sympathetic thought
to the unfortunate man who was guilty. It had been rightly said this
evening that they should join hands round him who is innocent. Quite
right! But let them also, if only in spirit, at the same time join
hands round him who was guilty. He stood most in need of reparation
and help. And his wife--; but here the pastor could say no more, and
sat down; and there were tears in several eyes.
A fresh astonishment was created when Norby tapped his glass, and
rising said: "I propose that we start a list to make a collection for
Fru Wangen. I will do what I can myself. We must remember that she is
left with three children unprovided for!"
There was a pause when he sat down. People looked at one another with
eyes that said "He's a man in a thousand!"