Eleseus came home.
He had been away now for some years, and had grown taller than his
father, with long white hands and a little dark growth on his upper
lip. He did not give himself airs, but seemed anxious to appear
natural and kindly; his mother, was surprised and pleased. He shared
the small bedroom with Sivert; the two brothers got on well together,
and were constantly playing tricks on each other by way of amusement.
But, naturally, Eleseus had to take his share of the work in building
the house; and tired and miserable it made him, all unused as he was
to bodily fatigue of any kind. It was worse still when Sivert had to
go off and leave it all to the other two; Eleseus then was almost more
of a hindrance than a help.
And where had Sivert gone off to? Why, 'twas Oline had come over the
hills one day with word from Uncle Sivert that he was dying; and, of
course, young Sivert had to go. A nice state of things all at once--it
couldn't have happened worse than to have Sivert running off just now.
But there was no help for it.
Said Oline: "I'd no time to go running errands, and that's the truth;
but for all that ... I've taken a fancy to the children here, all of
them, and little Sivert, and if as I could help him to his legacy...."
"But was Uncle Sivert very bad, then?"
"Bad? Heaven bless us, he's falling away day by day."
"Was he in bed, then?"
"In bed? How can you talk so light and flighty of death before God's
Judgment-seat? Nay, he'll neither hop nor run again in this world,
will your Uncle Sivert."
All this seemed to mean that Uncle Sivert had not long to live, and
Inger insisted that little Sivert should set off at once.
But Uncle Sivert, incorrigible old knave, was not on his death-bed;
was not even confined to bed at all. When young Sivert came, he
found the little place in terrible muddle and disorder; they had not
finished the spring season's work properly yet--had not even carted
out all the winter manure; but as for approaching death, there was no
sign of it that he could see. Uncle Sivert was an old man now,
over seventy; he was something of an invalid, and pottered about
half-dressed in the house, and often kept his bed for a time. He
needed help on the place in many ways, as, for instance, with the
herring nets that hung rotting in the sheds. Oh, but for all that he
was by no means at his last gasp; he could still eat sour fish and
smoke his pipe.
When Sivert had been there half an hour and seen how things were, he
was for going back home again.
"Home?" said the old man.
"We're building a house, and father's none to help him properly."
"Ho!" said his uncle. "Isn't Eleseus come home, then?"
"Ay, but he's not used to the work."
"Then why did you come at all?"
Sivert told him about Oline and her message, how she had said that
Uncle Sivert was on the point of death.
"Point of death?" cried the old man. "Said I was on the point of
death, did she? A cursed old fool!"
"Ha ha ha!" said Sivert.
The old man looked sternly at him. "Eh? Laugh at a dying man, do you,
and you called after me and all!"
But Sivert was too young to put on a graveyard face for that; he had
never cared much for his uncle. And now he wanted to get back home
again.
"Ho, so you thought so, too?" said the old man again. "Thought I was
at my last gasp, and that fetched you, did it?"
"'Twas Oline said so," answered Sivert.
His uncle was silent for a while, then spoke again: "Look you here.
If you'll mend that net of mine and put it right, I'll show you
something."
"H'm," said Sivert. "What is it?"
"Well, never you mind," said the old man sullenly, and went to bed
again.
It was going to be a long business, evidently. Sivert writhed
uncomfortably. He went out and took a look round the place; everything
was shamefully neglected and uncared for; it was hopeless to begin
work here. When he came in after a while, his uncle was sitting up,
warming himself at the stove.
"See that?" He pointed to an oak chest on the floor at his feet. It
was his money chest. As a matter of fact, it was a lined case made to
hold bottles, such as visiting justices and other great folk used to
carry with them when travelling about the country in the old days,
but there were no bottles in it now; the old man had used it for his
documents and papers as district treasurer; he kept his accounts and
his money in it now. The story ran that it was full of uncounted
riches; the village folk would shake their heads and say: "Ah! if I'd
only as much as lies in old Sivert his chest!"
Uncle Sivert took out a paper from the box and said solemnly: "You can
read writing, I suppose?"
Little Sivert was not by any means a great hand at that, it is true,
but he made out so much as told him he was to inherit all that his
uncle might leave at his death.
"There," said the old man. "And now you can do as you please." And he
laid the paper back in the chest.
Sivert was not greatly impressed; after all, the paper told him no
more than he had known before; ever since he was a child he had heard
say that he was to have what Uncle Sivert left one day. A sight of the
treasure would be another matter.
"There's some fine things in that chest, I doubt," said he.
"There's more than you think," said the old man shortly.
He was angry and disappointed with his nephew; he locked up the box
and went to bed again. There he lay, delivering jets of information.
"I've been district treasurer and warden of the public moneys in this
village over thirty year; _I've_ no need to beg and pray for a helping
hand from any man! Who told Oline, I'd like to know, that I was on my
deathbed? I can send three men, carriage and cart to fetch a doctor if
I want one. Don't try your games with me, young man! Can't even wait
till I'm gone, it seems. I've shown you the document and you've seen
it, and it's there in the chest--that's all I've got to say. But
if you go running off and leave me now, you can just carry word to
Eleseus and tell _him_ to come. He's not named after me and called by
my earthly name--let _him_ come."
But for all the threatening tone, Sivert only thought a moment, and
said: "Ay, I'll tell Eleseus to come."
Oline was still at Sellanraa when Sivert got back. She had found time
to pay a visit lower down, to Axel Ström and Barbro on their place,
and came back full of mysteries and whisperings. "That girl Barbro's
filling out a deal of late--Lord knows what it may mean. But not a
word that I've said so! And here's Sivert back again? No need to ask
what news, I suppose? Your Uncle Sivert's passed away? Ay, well, an
old man he was and an aged one, on the brink of the grave. What--not
dead? Well, well, we've much to be thankful for, and that's a solemn
word! Me talking nonsense, you say? Oh, if I'd never more to answer
for! How was I to know your uncle he was lying there a sham and a
false pretender before the Lord? Not long to live, that's what I said.
And I'll hold by it, when the time comes, before the Throne. What's
that you say? Well, and wasn't he lying there his very self in his
bed, and folding his hands on his breast and saying 'twould soon be
over?"
There was no arguing with Oline, she bewildered her adversaries with
talk and cast them down. When she learned that Uncle Sivert had sent
for Eleseus, she grasped at that too, and made her own advantage of
it: "There you are, and see if I was talking nonsense. Here's old
Sivert calling up his kinsfolk and longing for a sight of his own
flesh and blood; ay, he's nearing his end! You can't refuse him,
Eleseus; off with you at once this minute and see your uncle while
there's life in him. I'm going that way too, we'll go together."
Oline did not leave Sellanraa without taking Inger aside for more
whisperings of Barbro. "Not a word I've said--but I could see the
signs of it! And now I suppose she'll be wife and all on the farm
there. Ay, there's some folk are born to great things, for all they
may be small as the sands of the sea in their beginnings. And who'd
have ever thought it of that girl Barbro! Axel, yes, never doubt but
he's a toiling sort and getting on, and great fine lands and means and
all like you've got here--'tis more than we know of over on our side
the hills, as you know's a true word, Inger, being born and come of
the place yourself. Barbro, she'd a trifle of wool in a chest; 'twas
naught but winter wool, and I wasn't asking and she never offered me.
We said but _Goddag_ and _Farvel_, for all that I'd known her from she
was a toddling child all that time I was here at Sellanraa by reason
of you being away and learning knowledge at the Institute...."
"There's Rebecca crying," said Inger, breaking in on Oline. But she
gave her a handful of wool.
Then a great thanksgiving speech from Oline: ay, wasn't it just as she
had said to Barbro herself of Inger, and how there was not her like
to be found for giving to folk; ay, she'd give till she was bare, and
give her fingers to the bone, and never complain. Ay, go in and see to
the sweet angel, and never was there a child in the world so like her
mother as Rebecca--no. Did Inger remember how she'd said one day as
she'd never have children again? Ah, now she could see! No, better
give ear to them as were grown old and had borne children of their
own, for who should fathom the Lord His ways, said Oline.
And with that she padded off after Eleseus up through the forest,
shrunken with age, grey and abject, and for ever nosing after things,
imperishable. Going to old Sivert now, to let him know how she, Oline,
had managed to persuade Eleseus to come.
But Eleseus had needed no persuading, there was no difficulty there.
For, look you, Eleseus had turned out better, after all, than he'd
begun; a decent lad in his way, kindly and easy-going from a child,
only nothing great in the way of bodily strength. It was not without
reason he had been unwilling to come home this time; he knew well
enough that his mother had been in prison for child-murder; he had
never heard a word about it there in the town, but at home in the
village every one would remember. And it was not for nothing he had
been living with companions of another sort. He had grown to be more
sensitive and finer feeling than ever before. He knew that a fork was
really just as necessary as a knife. As a man of business, he used the
terms of the new coinage, whereas, out in the wilds, men still counted
money by the ancient _Daler_. Ay, he was not unwilling to walk across
the hills to other parts; here, at home, he was constantly forced to
keep down his own superiority. He tried his best to adapt himself to
the others, and he managed well; but it was always having to be on his
guard. As, for instance, when he had first come back to Sellanraa
a couple of weeks ago, he had brought with him his light spring
overcoat, though it was midsummer; and when he hung it up on a nail,
he might just as well have turned it so as to show the silver plate
inside with his initials, but he didn't. And the same with his
stick--his walking-stick. True, it was only an umbrella stick really,
that he had dismantled and taken the framework off; but here he had
not used it as he did in town, swinging it about--only carried it
hidden against his thigh.
No, it was not surprising that Eleseus went across the hills. He was
no good at building houses; he was good at writing with letters, a
thing not every one could do, but here at home there was no one in all
the place that set any store by the art of it save perhaps his mother.
He set off gaily through the woods, far ahead of Oline; he could wait
for her farther up. He ran like a calf; he hurried. Eleseus had in a
way stolen off from the farm; he was afraid of being seen. For,
to tell the truth, he had taken with him both spring coat and
walking-stick for the journey. Over on the other side there might be a
chance of seeing people, and being seen himself; he might even be able
to go to church. And so he sweated happily under the weight of an
unnecessary spring coat in the heat of the sun.
They did not miss him at the building, far from it. Isak had Sivert
back again, and Sivert was worth a host of his brother at that work;
he could keep at it from morning to night. It did not take them
long to get the framework up; it was only three walls, as they were
building out from the other. And they had less trouble with the
timber; they could cut their planks at the sawmill, which gave them
the outside pieces for roofing at the same time. And one fine day
there was the house all finished, before their eyes, roofed, floored,
and with the windows in. They had no time for more than this between
the seasons; the boarding and painting would have to wait.
And now came Geissler with a great following across the hills from
Sweden. And the men with him rode on horseback with glossy-coated
horses and yellow saddles; rich travellers they must be no doubt;
stout, heavy men; the horses bowed under their weight. And among all
these great personages came Geissler on foot. Four gentlemen and
Geissler made up the party, and then there were a couple of servants
each leading a packhorse.
The riders dismounted outside the farm, and Geissler said: "Here's
Isak--here's the Margrave of the place himself. _Goddag_, Isak! I've
come back again, you see, as I said I would."
Geissler was the same as ever. For all that he came on foot, his
manner showed no consciousness of inferiority to the rest; ay, his
threadbare coat hung long and wretched-looking down over his shrunken
back, but he put on a grand enough air for all that. He even
said: "We're going up into the hills a bit, these gentlemen and
myself--it'll do them good to get their weight down a bit."
The gentlemen themselves were nice and pleasant enough; they smiled
at Geissler's words, and hoped Isak would excuse their coming rioting
over his land like this. They had brought their own provisions, and
did not propose to eat him out of house and home, but they would be
glad of a roof over their heads for the night. Perhaps he could put
them up in the new building there?
When they had rested a while, and Geissler had been inside with Inger
and the children, the whole party went up into the hills and stayed
out till evening. Now and again in the course of the afternoon, the
folks at Sellanraa could hear an unusually heavy report from the
distance, and the train of them came down with new bags of samples.
"Blue copper," they said, nodding at the ore. They talked long and
learnedly, and consulting a sort of map they had drawn; there was an
engineer among them, and a mining expert; one appeared to be a big
landowner or manager of works. They talked of aerial railways and
cable traction. Geissler threw in a word here and there, and each time
as if advising them; they paid great attention to what he said.
"Who owns the land south of the lake?" one of them asked Isak.
"The State," answered Geissler quickly. He was wide awake and sharp,
and held in his hand the document Isak had once signed with his mark.
"I told you before--the State," he said. "No need to ask again. If you
don't believe me, you can find out for yourself if you please."
Later in the evening, Geissler took Isak aside and said: "Look here,
shall we sell that copper mine?"
Said Isak: "Why, as to that, 'twas so that Lensmand bought it of me
once, and paid for it."
"True," said Geissler. "I bought the ground. But then there was a
provision that you were to have a percentage of receipts from working
or sale; are you willing to dispose of your share?"
This was more than Isak could understand, and Geissler had to explain.
Isak could not work a mine, being a farmer and a clearer of forest
land; Geissler himself couldn't run a mine either. Money, capital? Ho,
as much as he wanted, never fear! But he hadn't the time, too many
things to do, always running about the country, attending to his
property in the south, his property in the north. And now Geissler was
thinking of selling out to these Swedish gentlemen here; they were
relatives of his wife, all of them, and rich men. "Do you see what I
mean?"
"I'll do it what way you please," said Isak.
A strange thing--this complete confidence seemed to comfort Geissler
wonderfully in his threadbareness. "Well, I'm not sure it's the best
thing you could do," he said thoughtfully. Then suddenly he was
certain, and went on: "But if you'll give me a free hand to act on
my discretion, I can do better for you at any rate than you could by
yourself."
"H'm," began Isak. "You've always been a good man to us all here...."
But Geissler frowned at that, and cut him short: "All right, then."
Next morning the gentlemen sat down to write. It was a serious
business; there was first of all a contract for forty thousand
_Kroner_ for the sale of the mine, then a document whereby Geissler
made over the whole of the money to his wife and children. Isak and
Sivert were called in to witness the signatures to these. When it
was done, the gentlemen wanted to buy over Isak's percentage for a
ridiculous sum--five hundred _Kroner_. Geissler put a stop to that,
however. "Jesting apart," he said.
Isak himself understood but little of the whole affair; he had sold
the place once, and got his money. But in any case, he did not care
much about _Kroner_--it was not real money like _Daler_. Sivert, on
the other hand, followed the business with more understanding.
There was something peculiar, he thought, about the tone of these
negotiations; it looked very much like a family affair between the
parties. One of the strangers would say: "My dear Geissler, you ought
not to have such red eyes, you know." Whereto Geissler answered
sharply, if evasively: "No, I ought not, I know. But we don't all get
what we ought to in this world!"
It looked very much as if Fru Geissler's brothers and kinsmen were
trying to buy off her husband, secure themselves against his visits
for the future, and get quit of a troublesome relation. As to the
mine, it was worth something in itself, no doubt, no one denied it;
but it lay far out of the way, and the buyers themselves said they
were only taking it over in order to sell it again to some one better
in a position to work it. There was nothing unreasonable in that. They
declared too, quite frankly, that they had no idea what they would be
able to get for it as it stood; if it were taken up and worked, then
the forty thousand might turn out to be only a fraction of what it was
worth; if it were allowed to lie there as it was, the money was simply
thrown away. But in any case, they wanted to have a clear title,
without encumbrance, and therefore they offered Isak five hundred
_Kroner_ for his share.
"I'm acting on his behalf," said Geissler, "and I'm not going to sell
out his share for less than ten per cent. of the purchase-money."
"Four thousand!" said the others.
"Four thousand," said Geissler. "The land was his, and his share comes
to four thousand. It wasn't mine, and I get forty thousand. Kindly
turn that over in your minds, if you please."
"Yes, but--four thousand _Kroner_!"
Geissler rose from his place, and said: "That, or no sale."
They thought it over, whispered about it, went out into the yard,
talking as long as they could. "Get the horses ready," they called to
the servants. One of the gentlemen went in to Inger and paid royally
for coffee, a few eggs, and their lodging. Geissler walked about with
a careless air, but he was wide awake all the same.
"How did that irrigation work turn out last year?" he asked Sivert.
"It saved the whole crop."
"You've cut away that mound there since I was here last, what?"
"Ay."
"You must have another horse on the farm," said Geissler. He noticed
everything.
One of the strangers came up. "Now then, let's get this matter settled
and have done with it," he said.
They all went into the new building again, and Isak's four thousand
_Kroner_ were counted out. Geissler was given a paper, which he
thrust into his pocket as if it were of no value at all. "Keep that
carefully," they told him, "and in a few days your wife shall have the
bankbook sent."
Geissler puckered his forehead and said shortly: "Very good."
But they were not finished with Geissler yet. Not that he opened his
mouth to ask for anything; he simply stood there, and they saw how he
stood there: maybe he had stipulated beforehand for a trifle on his
own account. The leader gave him a bundle of notes, and Geissler
simply nodded again, and said: "Very good."
"And now I think we ought to drink a glass with Geissler," said the
other.
They drank, and that was done. And then they took leave of Geissler.
Just at that moment came Brede Olsen walking up. Now what did he want?
Brede had doubtless heard the reports of the blasting charges the day
before, and understood that there was something on foot in the way
of mines. And now he came up ready to sell something too. He walked
straight past Geissler, and addressed himself to the gentlemen; he
had found some remarkable specimens of rock hereabouts, quite
extraordinary, some blood-like, others like silver; he knew every
cranny and corner in the hills around and could go straight to every
spot; he knew of long veins of some heavy metal--whatever it might be.
"Have you any samples?" asked the mining expert.
Yes, Brede had samples. But couldn't they just as well go up and look
at the places at once? It wasn't far. Samples--oh, sacks of them,
whole packing-cases full. No, he had not brought them with him, they
were at home--he could run down and fetch them. But it would be
quicker just to run up into the hills and fetch some more, if they
would only wait.
The men shook their heads and went on their way.
Brede looked after them with an injured air. If he had felt a glimmer
of hope for the moment, it was gone now; fate was against him, nothing
ever went right. Well for Brede that he was not easily cast down; he
looked after the men as they rode away, and said at last: "Wish you a
pleasant journey!" And that was all.
But now he was humble again in his manner towards Geissler, his former
chief, and no longer treated him as an equal, but used forms of
respect. Geissler had taken out his pocket-book on some pretext or
other, and any one could see that it was stuffed full of notes.
"If only Lensmand could help me a bit," said Brede.
"Go back home and work your land properly," said Geissler, and helped
him not a bit.
"I might easily have brought up a whole barrow-load of samples, but
wouldn't it have been easier to go up and look at the place itself
while they were here?"
Geissler took no notice of him, and turned to Isak: "Did you see what
I did with that document? It was a most important thing--a matter
of several thousand _Kroner_. Oh, here it is, in among a bundle of
notes."
"Who were those people?" asked Brede. "Just out for a ride, or what?"
Geissler had been having an anxious time, no doubt, and now he cooled
down. But he had still something of life and eagerness in him, enough
to do a little more; he went up into the hills with Sivert, and took a
big sheet of paper with him, and drew a map of the ground south of the
lake--Heaven knows what he had in mind. When he came down to the farm
some hours later, Brede was still there, but Geissler took no notice
of his questions; Geissler was tired, and waved him aside.
He slept like a stone till next morning early, then he rose with the
sun, and was himself again. "Sellanraa," said he, standing outside and
looking all round.
"All that money," said Isak; "does it mean I'm to have it all?"
"All?" said Geissler. "Heavens, man, can't you see it ought to have
been ever so much more? And it was my business really to pay you,
according to our contract; but you saw how things were--it was the
only way to manage it. What did you get? Only a thousand _Daler_,
according to the old reckoning. I've been thinking, you'll need
another horse on the place now."
"Ay."
"Well, I know of one. That fellow Heyerdahl's assistant, he's letting
his place go to rack and ruin; takes more interest in running about
selling folk up. He's sold a deal of his stock already, and he'll be
willing to sell the horse."
"I'll see him about it," said Isak.
Geissler waved his hand broadly around, and said: "Margrave,
landowner--that's you! House and stock and cultivated land--they can't
starve you out if they try!"
"No," said Isak. "We've all we could wish for that the Lord ever
made."
Geissler went fussing about the place, and suddenly slipped in to
Inger. "Could you manage a bit of food for me to take along again?" he
asked. "Just a few wafers--no butter and cheese; there's good things
enough in them already. No, do as I say; I can't carry more."
Out again. Geissler was restless, he went into the new building and
sat down to write. He had thought it all out beforehand, and it did
not take long now to get it down. Sending in an application to the
State, he explained loftily to Isak--"to the Ministry of the Interior,
you understand. Yes, I've no end of things to look after all at once."
When he had got his parcel of food and had taken leave, he seemed to
remember something all of a sudden: "Oh, by the way, I'm afraid I owe
you something from last time--I took out a note from my pocket-book on
purpose, and then stuck it in my waistcoat pocket--I found it there
afterwards. Too many things to think about all at once...." He put
something into Inger's hand and off he went.
Ay, off went Geissler, bravely enough to all seeming. Nothing downcast
nor anyway nearing his end; he came to Sellanraa again after, and it
was long years before he died. Each time he went away the Sellanraa
folk missed him as a friend. Isak had been thinking of asking him
about Breidablik, getting his advice, but nothing came of it. And
maybe Geissler would have dissuaded him there; have thought it a risky
thing to buy up land for cultivation and give it to Eleseus; to a
clerk.