hear how he can go and worry for the least fault or want of punctuality
in his office.
"I think the devil is in the fellow--now he _is_ governor," the captain
declared. "He has reached the highest grade and can't be removed, and
has no need to worry."
"Poor Josiah," sighed Ma, "he was always the most sensitive of my
brothers; but the best head."
"Yes, the judge at Ryfylke took both force and will for his part."
* * * * *
A fortnight later they were surprised by a letter from the governor's
wife, with one from Inger-Johanna enclosed.
The governor's lady must, in any event, be allowed to keep her dear
Inger-Johanna at least a year longer; she had become indispensable both
to her and the governor, so that it was even difficult for them to
realize that she could have another home.
She has spoiled her uncle by the young life she has brought into
the house. My dear Zittow with his scrupulous conscientiousness is
overburdened with anxieties and responsibilities in his great office,
and is sadly in need of amusements and recreation after so many wakeful
nights. Nay, so egotistical are we, that I will propose that we divide
her in the most unjust manner--that she shall make a visit home this
summer, but only to come down to us again. Anything else would be a
great disappointment.
But do not let us bring a possibly unnecessary apple of discord upon
the carpet too easily; it might turn out like the treaty between the
great powers about the beautiful island in the Mediterranean; during
the diplomatic negotiations it vanished. And indeed I lack very little
of being ready to guarantee that our dear subject of dispute will in
a short time herself rule over a home, which will be in proportion to
what she with her nature and beauty can lay claim to.
That I, as her aunt, should be somewhat blindly partial to her, I can
hardly believe; at least I can cite an experienced, well-informed
person of the same mind in our common friend, Captain Rönnow, who
last week came here with the royal family from Stockholm, and, in
parenthesis be it said--it must be between us--is on the point of
having an extraordinary career. He was thoroughly enthusiastic at
seeing Inger-Johanna again, and declared that she was a perfect beauty
and a born lady, who was sure to excite attention in circles which were
even above the common, and much more which we ought not to let our
dear child hear. I can only add that on leaving he warmly, and with a
certain anxiety, recommended me to keep and still further develop her.
If not just in his first youth, he is at least perhaps _the_, or at any
rate one of the, most elegant and most distinguished men in the army,
and it would not be difficult for him to win even the most pretentious.
"No, I should say that, by George. Well, Ma," said he, winking, "what
do you say now? Now, I think it is all going on well."
The captain took a swinging march over the floor, and then fell upon
Inger-Johanna's letter.
DEAR PARENTS,--Now I must tell you something. Captain Rönnow has been
here. He came just as aunt had a reception. He looks twice as handsome
and brave as he did when he was at our house at Gilje, and I saw
plainly that he started a little when he got his eye on me, even while
he stopped and paid his respects to aunt.
My heart beat rapidly, you must know, as soon as I saw him again; for I
was really half afraid that he would have forgotten me.
But he came up and took both my hands and said very warmly, "The bud
which I last saw at Gilje is now blossomed out."
I blushed a little, for I knew very well that it was he who from the
first brought it about that I came here.
But I call that finished manners and an easy, straightforward way of
conducting himself. Entertaining as he was, he never lost a particle
of his grand manly dignity, and there was hardly a question of paying
attention to any other person than to him in particular the whole
evening. I must admit that hereafter I shall have another standard for
a real gentleman whom I would call a man, and there are certainly many
who do not come up to it.
Aunt has also expatiated on his manner; I believe she was flattered
because he was so kind and cordial to me, she has ever since been in
such excellent humor.
After that he was here daily. He had so much to tell us about life in
Stockholm and at the court, and always talked to me about you at home,
about father, who although he was older--
"Much, much older, yes," put in the captain eagerly, "about four or
five years, at least."
--always was his never-to-be-forgotten friend.
You can believe those were pleasant evenings. Aunt understands such
things. There is a great void since he is gone. Aunt thinks so, too. We
have sat talking about him, and hardly anything else than him, these
two evenings since he went away.
Yesterday evening Grip came again. We have not seen him at all since
the first time Captain Rönnow was here. And can any one imagine such a
man? He seems to see nothing in him. He sat and contradicted, and was
so cross and disagreeable the whole evening that aunt was quite tired
of him. He argued about living externally, hollow drum, and some such
things, as if it were not just the genuine manliness and naturalness
that one must value so much in Captain Rönnow.
Oh, I lay half the night angry. He sat playing with his teacup and
talked about people who could go through the world with a silk ribbon
of phrases and compliments: that one could flatter to death a sound
understanding, so that at last there was left only a plucked--I plainly
heard him mumble--wild goose. Dreadful insolence! I am sure he meant me.
When he had gone aunt also said that hereafter she should refuse to
receive him, when there was no other company present; she was tired of
his performances _en tête-à-tête_; that sort of men must have a certain
restraint put upon them. He will never have any kind of a career, she
thought, he carries his own notions too high.
However, it will be very tiresome if he stays away; for with all his
peculiarities he is very often a good war comrade for me against aunt.
_Chapter VI_
The captain had kept the cover of his old large meerschaum pipe
polished with chalk for three days, without being willing to take it
down from the shelf; he had trimmed and put in new mouthpieces, and
held a feast of purification on the remainder, as well as on all the
contents of the tobacco table, the ash receiver, the tobacco stems, and
lava-like scrapings from the pipe. He had let the sexton do his best at
tuning the clavichord, and put two seats, painted white, on the stoop.
The constantly neglected lattice-work around the garden now glistened
here and there with fresh white palings, like single new teeth which
are stuck between a whole row of old gray ones. The walks in the garden
must be swept and garnished, the yard was cleaned up, and, finally, the
cover put on the well, which was to have been done all the years when
the children were small.
It was the captain who, in an almost vociferous good humor, was
zealously on the move everywhere.
Sometimes he took a kind of rest and stood puffing on the steps or
in the window of the large room which looked down toward the country
highway; or in the shades of the evening he took a little turn down
to the gate and sat there on the stone fence with his pipe. If any
one passed by going south, he would say, "Are you going to the store
to buy a plug of tobacco, Lars? If you meet a fine young lady in a
cariole, greet her from the captain at Gilje; it is my daughter who is
coming from the city."
If the person was some poor old crone of the other sex, to her
astonishment a copper coin fell down on the road before her: "There,
Kari; there, Siri: you may want something to order a crutch carriage
with."
A surprise which was so much the greater as the captain at other
times cherished a genuine liking for flaying old beggar women. The
whole stock of tempestuous oaths and of abusive words coined in the
inspiration of the moment, which was in his blood from the drill-ground
and military life, must now and then have an outbreak. The old women
who went on crutches were long accustomed to this treatment, and knew
what to expect when they were going away from the house, after having
first got a good load in their bags in the kitchen. It was like a
tattoo about their ears, accompanied by Pasop's wild barking.
But in these days, while he was going about in joyful expectation and
awaiting his daughter's return home, he was what made him a popular man
both in the district and among his men, straightforward and sportive,
something of the old gay Peter Jäger.
The captain had just been in again in the afternoon and tried the
concert pitch on the clavichord, which was constantly lowering, and
compared his deep bass with its almost soundless rumbling G, when
Jörgen thought he saw, through the window, a movable spot on one of the
light bits of the highway, which was visible even on the other side of
the lake.
The captain caught up his field-glasses, rushed out on the steps and in
again, called to Ma--and afterwards patiently took his post at the open
window, while he called Ma in again every time they came into the turns.
Down there it did not go so quickly. Svarten stopped of his own accord
at every man he met on the way; and then Great-Ola must explain.
A young lady with a duster tightly fastened about her waist, parasol
and gloves, and such a fine brass-bound English trunk on the back
of the cariole, was in itself no common thing. But that it was the
daughter of the captain at Gilje who was coming home raised the affair
up to the sensational, and the news was therefore well spread over the
region when, toward evening, the cariole had got as far as the door at
home.
There stood mother and father and Jörgen and Thea and the sub-officer,
Tronberg, with his small bag yonder at the corner of the house, and the
farm-hands and girls inside the passageway--and Great-Ola was cheated
out of lifting the young lady down on the steps, for she herself jumped
from the cariole step straight into the arms of her father, and then
kissed her mother and hugged Thea and pulled Jörgen by the hair a
little forced dance around on the stairs, so that he should feel the
first impression of her return home.
Yes, it was the parasol she had lost on the steps and which a
bare-footed girl came up with; Ma had a careful eye upon it--the
costly, delicate, fringed parasol with long ivory handle had been lying
there between the steps and the cariole wheel.
The captain took off her duster himself--The hair, the dress, the
gloves; that was the way she looked, a fine grown lady from head to
foot.
And so they had the Gilje sun in the room!
"I have been sitting and longing all day for the smell of the _petum_
and to see a little cloud of smoke about your head, father--I think you
are a little stouter--and then your dress-coat--I always thought of you
in the old shiny one. And mother--and mother!" She rushed out after her
into the pantry, where she stayed a long time.
Then she came out more quietly.
A hot fire was blazing in the kitchen. There stood Marit, a short,
red-cheeked mountain girl, with white teeth and small hands, stirring
the porridge so that the sweat dropped from her face; she knew very
well that Great-Ola would have it so that fifteen men could dance on
the surface, and now she got the help of the young lady. After that
Inger-Johanna must over and spin on Torbjörg's spinning-wheel.
The captain only went with her and looked on with half moistened
eyes, and when they came in again Inger-Johanna got the bottle from
the sideboard, and gave each of them out there a dram in honor of her
return.
The supper-table was waiting in the sitting-room on a freshly laid
cloth--red mountain trout and her favorite dish, strawberries and cream.
They must not think of waking her, so tired as she was last night,
father had said.
And therefore Thea had sat outside of the threshold from half-past six,
waiting to hear any noise, so that she could rush in with the tray and
little cakes, for Inger-Johanna was to have her coffee in bed.
Jörgen kept her company, taken up with studying the singular lock on
her trunk, and then with scanning the light, delicate patent leather
shoes. He rubbed them on his forehead and his nose, after having
moistened them with his breath.
Now she was waking up in there, and open flew the door for Jörgen,
Thea, and Pasop, and afterwards Torbjörg with the cup of coffee.
Yes, she was at home now.
The fragrance of the hay came in through the open window, and she
heard them driving the rumbling loads into the barn.
And when she saw, from the window, the long narrow lake in the valley
down below, and all the mountain peaks which lifted themselves so
precipitously up towards the heavens over the light fog on the other
side, she understood some of her mother's feeling that here it was
cramped, and that it was two hundred long miles to the city. But then
it was so fragrant and beautiful--and then, she was really home at
Gilje.
She must go out and lie in the hay, and let Jörgen hold the buck that
was inclined to butt, so she could get past, and then look at his
workshop and the secret hunting gun he was making out of the barrel and
lock of an old army gun.
It was a special confidence to his grown-up sister, for powder and gun
were most strictly forbidden him, which did not prevent his having his
arsenals of his father's coarse-grained cartridge powder hidden in
various places in the hills.
And then she must be with Thea and find out all about the garden,
and with her father on his walks here and there; they went up by the
cow-path, with its waving ferns, white birch stems, and green leaves,
over the whole of the sloping ridge of Gilje.
It was like a happy, almost giddy, intoxication of home-coming for
three or four days.
It came to be more like every-day life, when Ma began to talk about
this and that of the household affairs and to make Inger-Johanna take
part in her different cares and troubles.
What should be done with Jörgen? They must think of having him go to
the city soon. Ma had thought a good deal about writing to Aunt Alette
and consulting with her. Father must not be frightened about spending
too much money. If Aunt Alette should conclude to take him to board,
then it wouldn't involve the terrible immediate outlay of money.
They could send many kinds of provisions there, butter and cheese,
_fladbröd_, dried meat, and bacon as often as there was an opportunity.
She must talk with father about this sometime later in the winter, when
she had heard what Aunt Alette thought.
And with Thinka they had gone through a great deal. Ma had had all she
could do to keep father out of it--you know how little he can bear
annoyances--and she had found it a matter almost of life and death on
Wednesdays to intercept Jörgen, when he brought the mail, to get hold
of Thinka's letters. This spring Ma had written time after time, and
represented to her what kind of a future she was preparing for herself,
if she, in weakness and folly, gave way to her rash feelings for this
clerk, Aas.
But in the beginning, you see, there came some letters back, which
were very melancholy. One could live even in poorer circumstances,
she wrote,--it seems that there was a rather doubtful prospect of his
getting a situation as a country bailiff that she had set her hopes on.
Ma had placed it seriously before her how such a thing as that might
end. Suppose he was sick or died, where would she and perhaps a whole
flock of children take refuge?
"It depends on overcoming the first emotion of the fancy. Now she is
coming home in the autumn, and it could be wished that she had gotten
over her feelings. My brother Birger is so headstrong; but maybe it
was for the best that, as my sister-in-law writes, as soon as he got a
hint of the state of affairs, he gave Aas his dismissal and sent him
packing that very day. The last two or three letters show that Thinka
is quieter."
"Thinka is horribly meek," exclaimed Inger-Johanna with flashing eyes.
"I believe they could pickle her and put her down and tie up the jar;
she would not grumble. If Uncle Birger had done so to me, I would not
have stayed there a day longer."
"Inger-Johanna! Inger-Johanna!" Ma shook her head. "You have a
dangerous, spoiled temper. It is only the very, very smallest number of
us women who are able to do what they would like to."
The captain did not disdain the slightest occasion to bring forward
his daughter just come home from the city.
He had turned the time to account, for in the beginning of the next
week he would be obliged to go on various surveys up on the common land
and then to the drills.
They had made a trip down to the central part of the district, to
Pastor Horn's, and on the way stopped and called on Sexton Semmelinge
and Bardon Kleven, the bailiff. They had been to Dr. Bauman, the
doctor of the district; and now on Sunday they were invited to Sheriff
Gülcke's--a journey of thirty-five miles down the valley.
It was an old house of a _calêche_, repaired a hundred times, which
was drawn out of its hiding-place, and within whose chained together
arms Svarten and the dun horse--the blind bay had long since been sent
away--were to continue their three-months-long attempt to agree in the
stall.
If the beasts had any conception, it must most likely have been that
it was an enormously heavy plough they were drawing, in a lather, up
and down hill, with continual stoppings to get breath and let those who
were sitting in it get in and out.
If there was anything the captain adhered to, it was military
punctuality, and at half-past four in the morning the whole family in
full dress, the captain and Jörgen with their pantaloons turned up,
the ladies with their dresses tucked up, were wandering on foot down
the Gilje hills--they were some of the worst on the whole road--while
Great-Ola drove the empty carriage down to the highway.
The dun horse was better fitted for pulling than holding back, so that
it was Svarten that must be depended on in the hills, and Great-Ola,
the captain, and Jörgen must help.
It was an exceedingly warm day, and the carriage rolled on in an
incessant dense, stifling dust of the road about the feet of the horses
and the wheels. But then it was mainly down hill, and they rested and
got breath every mile.
At half-past one they had only to cross the ferry and a short distance
on the other side again up to the sheriff's farm.
On the ferry a little toilet was temporarily made, and the captain took
his new uniform coat out of the carriage box and put it on. Except
that Jörgen had greased his pantaloons from the wheels, not a single
accident had happened on the whole trip.
As soon as they came up on the hill, they saw the judge's carriage roll
up before them through the gate, and in the yard they recognized the
doctor's cariole and the lawyer's gig. There stood the sheriff himself,
helping the judge's wife out of the carriage; his chief clerk and his
daughters were on the steps.
So far as the ladies were concerned, there must, of course, be a
final toilet and a change of clothes before they found themselves
presentable. One of the two daughters of the lawyer was in a red and
the other in a clear white dress, and of the three daughters of the
judge, two were in white and one in blue.
That a captain's daughter, with his small salary, came in brown silk
with patent leather shoes, could only be explained by the special
circumstances, suggested Mrs. Scharfenberg in the ear of old Miss Horn
of the parsonage; it was, in all probability, one of the governor's
lady's, which had been made over down in the city.
The fact was that young Horn who, it was expected, would be chaplain
to his father, the minister, treated Inger-Johanna in a much more
complimentary manner than he showed toward Mrs. Scharfenberg's
daughter, Bine, to whom he was as good as engaged; and the chief clerk
did not seem to be blind to her. They both ran to get a chair for her.
The sofa was assigned to the judge's wife and to Ma, as a matter of
course. Mrs. Scharfenberg did not think this quite right either, since
her husband had been nominated second for the judgeship of Sogn; and
that the sheriff had to-day also invited the rich Mrs. Silje was, her
husband said, only a bid for popularity: she was still always what she
was--widow of the country storekeeper, Silje.
It was a long time to sit and exchange compliments, before the mainstay
of the dinner, the sheriff's roast, was sufficiently and thoroughly
done, and he got a nod from his wife to ask the company out to the
table in the large room.
The only one who laughed and talked before the ice was fairly broken
was Inger-Johanna, who chatted with the judge and then with Horn and
the army doctor.
Ma pursed her lips a little uneasily, as she sat on the sofa and
pretended to be absorbed in conversation with Mrs. Brinkman; she knew
what they all would say about her afterwards.
It had been a rather warm dinner. Through the abundant provision of the
sheriff, the fatigue and hunger after the journey had given place to an
extremely lively mood spiced with speeches and songs.
They had sat a long time at the table before the scraping of the
judge's chair finally gave the signal for the breaking up.
The sheriff now stood stout and beaming during the thanks for the meal,
and demanded and received his tribute as host--a kiss from each one of
the young ladies.
The masculine part of the company distributed themselves with their
coffee-cups out in the cool hall and on the stairs, or went with
their tobacco pipes into the yard, while the ladies sat around the
coffee-table in the parlor.
The judge talked somewhat loudly with the sheriff, and the captain,
red and hot, stood a little way out in the yard, cooling himself.
The doctor came up and clapped him on the shoulder. "The sheriff really
took the spigot out of the bung to-day: we had excellent drink."
"Oh, if one only had a pipe now, and could go and loaf."
"You have got one in your hand, man."
"Really? But filled, you see."
"You just went in and filled it."
"I? No, really; but a light, you see, a light."
"I say, Jäger, Scharfenberg is already up taking a nap."
"Yes, yes; but the bay, you cheated me shamefully in that."
"Oh, nonsense, Peter; your cribber ate himself half out of my
stall--That Madeira was strong."
"Rist--my daughter, Inger-Johanna--"
"Yes, you see, Peter, I forgive you that you are a little cracked about
her; she may make stronger heads than yours whirl round."
"She is beautiful--beautiful." His voice was assuming an expression of
serious pathos.
The two military men, at a sedate, thoughtful pace, walked back to one
of the sleeping-rooms in the second story.
In the hall, tall Buchholtz, the judge's chief clerk, was standing,
stiff and silent, against the wall, with his coffee-cup in his hand; he
was pondering whether anyone would notice anything wrong about him.
He had been in the coffee room with the ladies and tried to open a
conversation with Miss Jäger.
"Have you been here long, Miss Jäger?"
"Three weeks."
"How lo-ong do you intend to stay here?"
"Till the end of August."
"Don't you miss the city u-p here?"
"No, not at all."
She turned from him, and began to talk with her mother. The same
questions had now been asked her by all the gentlemen.
The irreproachable Candidate Horn stood by the door enjoying his
coffee and the defeat of the chief clerk. He was lying in wait for
an opportunity to have a chat with Inger-Johanna, but found an
insurmountable obstacle in the judge's well-read wife, who began to
talk with her about French literature, a region in which he felt he
could not assert himself.
At the request of the sheriff, a general exit took place later. The
ladies must go out on the porch and see the young people playing "the
widower seeking a mate."
Mrs. Silje sat there, broad and good-natured after all the good eating,
and enjoyed it.
"No, but he did not catch her this time, no. Make the strap around your
waist tighter, next time, sir!" She smiled when the chief clerk's
attempt to catch Inger-Johanna failed; "she is such a fine young lady
to try for."