READY FOR CONFIRMATION.
Hans Odegaard had gone out as a young man from the hamlet of Odegaard
in Bergen's shire; people had taken to him, and he was now a learned
man and a strict preacher. He was besides an influential man, not so
much in words as in deeds; for, as it was said, he "never forgot." This
man who by perseverance pushed everything through, was however stopped
in a way that he least expected, and where it was most painful.
He had three daughters and one son. Hans, the son, was the light of the
school, and it was his father's daily pleasure to prepare him himself.
Hans had a friend whom he helped to get the second place, and who
therefore, save his mother, loved him more than all the world. They
went together to school and to the university; they passed the two
first examinations together, and were then to study for the same
profession. One day as they were going joyfully down stairs after their
studies, Hans, in an outburst of high spirits and glee, threw himself
upon his companion's back, thereby causing him a fall, which some days
later ended in his death. When dying he begged his mother, who was a
widow, and now lost her only son, to fulfil his last request and take
Hans up in his place. Almost immediately after the mother died, but her
very considerable fortune was left to Hans Odegaard.
It was years before Hans could recover himself after this. A long tour
on the continent so far restored him, that he could resume his
theological studies; but on his return home, he could not be persuaded
to make use of his examinations.
The father's greatest hope had been to see him as his assistant in the
ministry, but he could not now be persuaded to enter the pulpit a
single time; he gave always the same reply: "he felt no calling:" this
was so bitter a disappointment to the father, that it made him several
years older. He had commenced late in life, and was already an old man;
he had worked hard, and always with this end in view. Now the son
occupied the largest part of the house, handsomely furnished, while
down below in his little study, by the lamp that lightened the night of
age, sat the hard-working old father.
After this disappointment, he neither could nor would take other help,
neither would he give in to his son, and relinquish altogether;
therefore, summer or winter, he knew no rest; but each year the son
took a longer tour abroad. When he was at home he associated with no
one, except that in silence, greater or less, he dined at his father's
table. If any began to converse with him, they were met by a superior
clearness and earnestness for the truth, that made them always feel the
conversation a little embarrassing. He never went to church, but he
gave more than half his income to benevolent objects, and always with
the most express injunctions as to its appropriation.
This beneficence was so different in its scale from the narrow customs
of the little town that it won the hearts of all. Add to this, his
reserve, his frequent journey abroad, the hesitation all felt in
conversing with him, and one can easily understand that he was regarded
as a mysterious being to which each added all possible qualities, and
his own best judgment. Therefore when he condescended to take the
Fisher Girl under his daily care, she was ennobled by it.
Every one, especially women, seemed anxious to show her some favour.
One day she came to him clad in all the colours of the rainbow; she had
put on her presents, thinking she would now be really to his taste, as
he always wished her to be neat. But he had scarcely glanced at her,
before he forbade her ever to receive presents; he called her vain,
foolish: her aims were shallow, she took pleasure in folly.
When she came next morning, with eyes that told a tale of weeping, he
took her with him a walk above the town. He told her about David in
such a manner that he took now this, now that incident, and made the
well-known story anew. First, he depicted him in his youth, beautiful
and rich in talent, and in child-like faith; how, while yet a boy, he
came with the triumphal procession. From a shepherd he was called to be
king, he dwelt in caves, but ended in building Jerusalem. When Saul was
ill, he came beautifully attired, and played and sang before him, but
when as king he himself was ill, he played and sang clad in the garb of
repentance. When he had achieved his great works, he took rest in sin,
then came the prophet and punishment, and he became a child again.
David, who could call the people of God to songs of praise, lay
contrite at the feet of the Lord. Was he most beautiful, when crowned
with victory he danced before the ark to his own songs, or when in his
private closet he begged for mercy from the punishing hand?
The night after this conversation Petra had a dream, which all her life
she never forgot. She sat upon a white horse and came in triumphal
procession, but, at the same time, in front of the horse, she saw
herself dancing in rags.
One evening some time after this, as she was sitting at the edge of the
forest above the town learning her lessons, Pedro Ohlsen, who since
that day in the garden had approached gradually nearer, passed close
by, and, with a singular smile, whispered: "Good evening!" Though more
than a year had passed by, her mother's injunction not to speak to him
was so strongly before her that she did not answer. But day after day
he went by in the same way, and always with the same greeting; at last
she missed him, when he did not come. Soon he asked a little question
in passing, by-and-bye it increased to two, and at last it was quite a
conversation. After such one day, he let a silver dollar slip down into
her lap, and then hastened away in delight. Now, if it was against the
mother's commands to talk to Pedro Ohlsen, it was against Odegaard's to
take gifts from any one. The first prohibition she had little by little
overstepped, but it came to her mind now, when it had led to her also
overstepping the second. To get rid of the money she got hold of some
one to treat; but, in spite of their best endeavours, they could not
eat more than the worth of four marks; and afterwards it troubled her
that she had misspent the dollar instead of giving it back. The mark
that still lay in her pocket felt so hot that it might have burned a
hole in her clothes; she took it and threw it into the sea. But she was
not rid of the dollar thereby; her thoughts were burnt by it. She felt
that, if she confessed, it might pass over, but her mother's fearful
rage before, and Odegaard's good faith in her, were each, in its own
way, alike alarming. Whilst the mother said nothing, Odegaard quickly
observed that there was something which made her unhappy.
One day he asked her tenderly what it was, and, as instead of
answering, she burst into tears, he thought they must be in want at
home and gave her ten specie dollars. It made a strong impression on
her that, although she had sinned against him, he yet gave her money,
and as into the bargain she could now give this openly to her mother,
she felt herself freed from her guilt, and gave herself up to the
greatest joy. She took his hand in both of hers, she thanked him, she
laughed, she jumped about, and smiled in ecstacy through her tears, as
she looked at him something in the way that a dog regards his master
when going out. He did not know her again; she who always sat wrapt in
what he was saying, now took all power from him; for the first time he
felt a strong, wild nature heaving within him, for the first time the
well of life sent her red streams over him, and he drew back all
crimson. Meanwhile Petra went out to run home over the hills behind the
town. Once there, she laid the money on the baking-stone before her
mother, throwing her arms round her neck. "Who has been giving you
money?" said the mother, vexed already.--"Odegaard, mother, he is
the greatest man upon earth."--"What am I to do with it?"--"I don't
know--heavens! mother, if you knew"--and she again threw her arms round
her neck; she could and she would now tell her all, but the mother
released herself impatiently: "Will you have me to take alms? Take the
money back at once. If you have made him believe I am in want, you have
lied!"--"But, mother?"--"Take the money to him, I say, or I shall go
myself and throw them at him, HIM who has taken my child from me!" The
mother's lips trembled after the last words. Petra turned back very
pale. She opened the door softly and glided out of the house. Before
she knew what she was about the ten specie notes were torn to pieces in
her fingers. When she found what she had done, she burst out in an
invective against the mother. But Odegaard must know nothing about it,
yes, he should know all! for to him she must not lie. A moment after
and she stood in his house, and told him that her mother would not take
the money, and that in her vexation at having to bring it back, she had
torn the notes in two. She would have told him more, but he received
her coldly, and told her to go home with the admonition to shew her
mother obedience, even where it felt hard to do so. This, however,
seemed strange to her, as she knew so much, that he did not do what the
father most desired! On her way home she was quite overcome, and just
then she met Pedro Ohlsen. She had shunned him all this time, and would
have done the same now, for from him came all this unhappiness, but he
followed her, and asked her, "Where have you been, has anything
happened to you?" The waves of her mind rose so high that they cast her
whithersoever they would, and, as she thought it over, she could not
understand why the mother should forbid her to have anything to do with
him; it could be only a fancy, the one as well as the other. "Do you
know what I have done?" he said, almost humbly, when she had stopped "I
have bought a sailing boat for you. I thought you might like to have a
sail," and he laughed. His kindness, which resembled a poor man's
entreaty, could touch her now; she nodded; he was in a great hurry and
whispered eagerly that she must go through the town, and down the
avenue to the right, till she came to the great yellow boat-house,
behind which he would come and fetch her; no one could see them there.
She went, and he came and took her in. They sailed along for some time
in the light breeze, then made for a rocky island, where they moored
the boat and got out. He had brought some nice things for her to eat,
and he took out his flute and played. In seeing his pleasure she forgot
her sorrows for a time, and the joy of weak people having a tendering
influence, she became attached to him.
After this day she had a new and continual secret from her mother, and
soon this had the effect of keeping everything from her. Gunlaug made
no inquiries, she believed everything till she doubted all.
But now Petra had also a secret from Odegaard, for she accepted many
gifts from Pedro Ohlsen; he likewise made no inquiries, but the lessons
were day by day conducted in a more distant manner. Petra was now
divided amongst three; she never spoke to any one of them about the
others, and she had something to hide from each in particular.
Under all this she had grown up without being aware of it herself, and
one day Odegaard communicated to her that she must now be confirmed.
This intimation filled her with uneasiness, for she knew that with the
confirmation her lessons were to cease, and what would then become of
her? The mother was having an attic chamber made for her, that after
the confirmation she might have a room of her own, and the constant
knocking and hammering was a painful reminder. Odegaard observed that
she grew more and more quiet, sometimes he saw also that she had been
weeping. Under these circumstances the religious instruction made a
great impression on her, although Odegaard with great care avoided all
that might excite or move her. For this reason a fortnight before the
confirmation, he gave up the lessons with the short intimation that
this was the last time. By this he meant the last with him; for he
would certainly watch over her still, though through others. She,
however, remained seated where she was, the blood left her veins, her
eyes remained fixed, and involuntarily moved, he hastened to give a
reason: "It is not all young girls that are grown up at their
confirmation; but you must be aware that it is so with you." If she had
stood in the glare of a great fire, she could not have been more fiery
red than she became at these words; her bosom heaved, her eyes took a
vague expression and filled with tears, and driven further he hastened
to say: "We may perhaps still go on?" He did not until after realise
what he had proposed; he was wrong, he must retract it; but her eyes
were already lifted towards him. She did not answer "yes" with her
lips, but more plainly it could not be said. To excuse himself in his
own eyes, by finding a pretext, he asked: "There will be something you
would especially like to do now, something you--" he bent down towards
her--"feel a calling to, Petra?"--"No," she replied so quickly that he
coloured, and as if chilled, fell back into the considerations which
for years had occupied his mind; her unexpected reply had recalled
them.
That she was possessed of some peculiar qualities, he had never doubted
from the time she was a child, and he saw her march singing at the head
of the street boys; but the longer he taught her, the less he felt to
understand her talent. It was present in every movement; what she
thought, what she wished, mind and body simultaneously made known in
the fulness of power, and the light of beauty, but put in words, and
especially in writing, it is only child-like simplicity. She appeared
all imagination, but he perceived in it especially a feeling of unrest.
She was very earnest, but she read more to go on than to learn; what
could be on the other side occupied her most. She had religious
feeling, but as the pastor expressed it, "no turn for a religious
life," and Odegaard was often anxious about her. Now that he was at the
closing point, his thoughts involuntarily reverted to the stone step
where he had received her; he heard the mother's sharp voice leaving
the responsibility with him, because he had used the name of Our Lord.
After pacing a few times up and down he collected himself: "I am going
abroad, now," he said with a certain shyness, "I have asked my sister
to care for you in my absence, and when I return we will try again.
Farewell! We shall meet again before I go!" he went so quickly into the
next room, that she could not even shake hands with him.
She saw him again where she had least expected it, in the pastor's pew
beside the choir, just in front of her as she stepped forth with the
others to be confirmed. This so affected her, that her thoughts flew
far away from the holy act, for which, in humility and prayer, she had
prepared herself. Yes, if that was Odegaard's old father, he stopped
and looked long at his son, as he stepped forth to begin. Soon Petra
was once more to be startled in church, for a little below sat Pedro
Ohlsen in prim new clothes; he was just stretching his neck to catch a
glimpse of her over the heads of the boys; he soon bobbed down, but she
saw him repeatedly stick up his thin-haired head to bob again. This
distracted her, she did not wish to look, but she did look, and
there,--just as the others were all deeply moved, many in tears,--she
was terrified to see him rise up with stiff open mouth and transfixed
eyes, without power to sit down or move, for opposite him, stretched to
her full height, stood Gunlaug; Petra shuddered to see her, she was
white as the altar cloth. Her black crimpy hair seemed to rise up,
while her eyes got suddenly a repulsive power, as though they said:
"Away from her, what have you to do with her?" Under this look he sank
down upon the form, and a minute after stole out of church.
After this Petra felt composed, and the further the rite proceeded the
more fully she entered into it. And when, after having given her
promise, she turned round and looked through her tears at Odegaard, as
the one who stood nearest to her good intentions, she resolved in her
heart that she would not put his hopes to shame. The steadfast eye that
looked expressively in return seemed to entreat her for the same, but
when she had taken her place and would find him again, he was gone. She
soon went home with her mother, who on the way let fall these words: "I
have done my part;--now may Our Lord do His!"
When they had dined together, they two alone, the mother said as she
rose: "Now we may as well go to him,--the pastor's son. Though I don't
know what it will lead to that he does, he surely means it well. Put on
your things again, child!"
The road to church which they two had so often trodden, lay above the
town, but through the street they had never before walked together;
indeed the mother had scarcely been there since she had come back to
the place, but she would now go the whole length with her grown up
daughter!
On the afternoon of a confirmation Sunday, such a little town is all on
the move, either going from house to house to congratulate, or in the
street to see and to be seen; there is a salutation and halting at
every step, a shaking of hands, and interchanging of good wishes: the
poor children appear in the cast-off clothes of the rich, and are
paraded forth to return their thanks. The sailors in their foreign
pageantry, with the hat upon three hairs; and the fops, the merchants,
clerks, walked in groups, bowing to all as they passed. The half-grown
up lads of the Latin school, each arm in arm with his best friend in
the world, sauntered after in rash criticism; but to-day every one in
his own mind must yield the palm to the lion of the place, the young
merchant, the wealthiest man in the town, Yngve Vold, just returned
from Spain, all in trim to take charge on the morrow of his mother's
extensive fish trade. With a light hat over his light hair, he strolled
through the streets; every one bade him welcome, he spoke to all,
smiled to all; so the young people who had just been confirmed were
almost forgotten;--backwards and forwards one might see the light hat
over the light hair, and hear the light laughter. When Petra and her
mother entered the street, he was the first they stumbled upon, and as
if they had in reality stumbled against him, he started back before
Petra, whom he did not recognise.
She had grown tall, not as tall as the mother but above the average
height, easy, elegant, and fearless, the mother and not the mother
inconstant interchange. The young merchant, who walked along behind
them, could no longer attract the attention of the passers-by; the two,
mother and daughter, were a more striking sight. They walked quickly,
without noticing any one, for they were seldom greeted except by
seamen; they soon returned more quickly still, for they had heard that
Odegaard had just left home for the steamer and would soon be gone.
Petra was in great haste; she must, she must indeed see him and thank
him before he went; it was wrong of him to leave her thus! She saw none
of all those who were looking at her; it was the smoke from the steamer
she saw over the roofs of the houses, and it seemed to be getting
further away. When they came to the quay, the boat had just left, and,
with sobs in her throat, she hastened further up the walk; indeed she
more sprang than walked, and the mother strode after. As the steamer
had taken some minutes to turn in the harbour, she was just in time to
spring down on the wharf, get up on a stone, and wave her pocket
handkerchief. The mother remained on the walk, and would not go down;
Petra waved--waved higher and higher, but there was no one who waved
again.
Then she could bear it no longer; she could not restrain her tears, and
was obliged to return home by the higher path; the mother followed, but
in silence. The attic which her mother had prepared for her, and where
she had slept for the first time the night before, and had that morning
put on her new dress with so much delight, now received her bathed in
tears, and without so much as a glance around; she would not go down
where the seamen and others were sitting;--she took off her
confirmation dress and sat on the bed till night came; to be grown up
seemed to her the most unhappy thing that could be.