"I won't answer anything till you come down."
"Oh, you won't? all right!"
"Oh you scoundrel; oh, you miserable rascal!"
"Do you agree, then?"
"Yes, deuce take you! But get away from the outer edge at least! Devil
take the boy!"
"I say, it might be just as well if you went away first father."
"Not I; you'll not get me to do that. Never. I must see you down
first."
The boy thought this just as well. His father put up the ladder and
slowly the lad came down; but not until his father had gone a little
way back into the yard. And he kept his distance, although his father
wished to speak to him and assured him he would not harm him. Neither
would he go into the house as long as his father stayed there; but
being wet through, obliged his father to go away.
Five or six minutes after both lads lay kicking on the floor, Edward in
just as big a shirt as Ole's and equally naked otherwise; they were
both going to put on a pair of thick woollen stockings, of the kind the
peasants use that come well up over the thighs. They had thought it
easier to try and put them on sitting on the floor, which was strewn
with sand. There they pushed each other over and laughed as though many
days had gone by since _that_ happened which we have just witnessed.
Everything Edward did Ole did after him; they laughed until at last the
quiet, gentle mother was obliged to laugh too; there was no end to all
that Edward hit upon. They were to put on those long stockings so that
they might sit at table and eat their dinner without feeling too cold;
at table there was no fireplace for their legs. And at last they were
so far ready they got them on. And then was disclosed the contents of
the other pot; it was cream porridge. Edward had never tasted that
before. Ole was to be coaxed into better spirits than he was in when he
arrived, therefore his mother had made that porridge for him. Edward
applauded loudly and greeted the food with laughter.
But all at once Ole sat quite solemn and quiet. What now? Hands folded,
eyes cast down? The mother stood before them; she too was serious with
folded hands and cast-down eyes. Her face was bent down, it seemed to
be vanishing gradually farther and farther, or rather it was as if
shutters were put up before and all light in it extinguished. And then
she began, as though from afar, a long, long grace, in a low monotonous
voice, as if she were talking quietly with someone but at some other
place. Edward felt himself out of it all. His loneliness and fright
came back again, the old recollections and the old longing for his
mother. Then it passed away, pushed back like a shutter; it all
vanished behind the hill.
Edward had never before been present when grace was said at meals, and
her manner and ways were so altogether new to him, and he did not
understand her and her mumbling. He sat very quiet for some time after.
Ole did not speak either; all the time while they were dining he was
very silent and hardly even smiled. Food was God's gift; a certain
solemnity was therefore necessary.
But what a serious matter their eating was! The mother asked them at
last if they did not think it would be best to keep a little till the
evening? No, they said, this was dinner and supper in one. They were to
sleep together in the servant's room, which was used as a spare room;
the fire had been lighted there, and now they would sit by the fireside
for an hour or so and then go to bed.
The mother saw they would rather be alone, so she left them.
Then afterward when they were in the bedroom! At first the most
terrific row; the bed-clothes and featherbeds flew about them; then
they grew calmer after each attack, and at last they began to talk. Ole
told how the boys had treated him and Edward promised that he would
give that boy such a thrashing--yes, even if it were Anders Hegge
himself--if he would not hold his tongue about the "ways of God," and
all that, Edward would give him a proper kind of beating. Anders Hegge
was a coward. He knew who he would get to help him; they would have
such fun!
As they grew more tired they became sentimental. Ole spoke of Josephine
and Edward joined in and assured him that she had behaved splendidly
that day. He described her as she came rowing out in search of him. Ole
thought this grand. Certainly there was something great about
Josephine; they both agreed as to that.
Edward could not understand why Ole should wish to be a missionary? Why
on earth was it such an excellent thing to go off on wild adventures
when one had enough to do here at home? Ole should be a clergyman and
he would be a doctor, and they would both live together in the same
town; would not that be much nicer?
And Edward went on drawing pictures of their future life. They were to
live next door to each other and be often together; in the evenings
particularly, with their glass of punch, just as his father and the
apothecary were and play chess together as those two did. And they
would have a carriage for high days and holidays, and each harness his
own horse to it and drive out together; it would be more sociable like
that. Or else they would live by the sea-side and have a big boat
between them; everything must be between them.
In Ole's fancy Josephine was to be always with them, though Edward did
not actually say as much. But it was clear that she was to be with
them. And Ole thought this showed so much tact on Edward's part and was
very grateful to him; indeed it quite decided him. Josephine was to be
the clergyman's wife and manage everything in the house.
At last he agreed to all; it was decided that one was to be a clergyman
and the other a doctor, and they were to live together. The last thing
they talked about was their fishing expeditions.
They heard sounds of tramping and talking; it was the men coming home
from the herring-fishing. But they were very tired and soon fell
asleep.