CHAP. IX.
OVIND THROWS HIS CAP IN THE AIR.
One Sat.u.r.day, at Midsummer, Th.o.r.e Pladsen rowed over the lake to meet his son, who was coming that afternoon from the Agricultural School.
The mother had had a charwoman for two or three days, and everything was made beautifully clean and tidy. Ovind"s room had been ready some time, and the stove was set in order. To-day his mother decorated it with green, took the linen up, and made the bed, looking out between times over the water, to see if there was not a boat. The table was ready spread, and yet there was always something to be done,--flies to chase away, or dust, constant dust.
Still there was no boat. She seated herself in the window sill and looked out; then she heard footsteps on the other side and turned to see who was there; it was the schoolmaster, who came slowly along leaning upon a stick for his hip was very bad. He stopped a minute to rest, the expressive eyes moved quietly round; he nodded to her: "Not come yet?"
"No, I am expecting them every moment."
"Good hay weather to-day."
"But very hot for old people to be out."
The schoolmaster smiled: "Has somebody else been out in the heat to-day?"
"Yes, but she"s gone again."
"Oh! well, may be they"ll be meeting somewhere to-night."
"I suppose so, but Th.o.r.e says they shall not meet in his house till the old people give their consent."
"Quite right."
"They are coming, I do believe!" the mother exclaimed.
"Yes, that is them."
The schoolmaster came in and rested a little, and then they went down to the lake, while the boat plied quickly along, for both father and son were rowing. When they came near, Ovind turned, rested his oars, and called "Good morning, mother; good morning, schoolmaster!"
"What a manly voice," said the mother, "but still the same light hair,"
she added.
Ovind sprang out, and shook hands; he laughed, and so unlike the peasants" way, he at once began to tell them all about the examination, the journey, the princ.i.p.al"s testimonial, his prospects, &c.; then he asked about the harvest, and about his friends, all except one. And so they went home, Ovind laughing and talking; the mother smiling, not knowing exactly what to say; the schoolmaster and the father listening.
Ovind was pleased with everything he saw,--first, that the house was painted; then, that the mill was enlarged; then, that the lead windows were taken out of the parlour, and white gla.s.s put instead of green.
When they came in, everything looked so exceedingly small, so different from what he had remembered it; but so cheerful, and all looked so inviting.
They seated themselves at the table, but there was not much eaten, for Ovind was constantly talking. Once when he was telling them a long story about one of his schoolfellows, and there came a moment"s pause, his father said, "I can scarcely understand a single word of what you say, lad, you speak so exceedingly quick." They all laughed, and Ovind not the least; he knew it was true, but he seemed as though he could not help it.
All that he had seen and heard during his long absence, had so impressed and aroused him, that the powers which had hitherto lain dormant were now awakened, and the brain was constantly at work.
He was delighted with his little room; he thought he should like to stay at home for a time, a.s.sisting with the hay harvest and reading; where he should go after he could not tell, but it was all the same to him. They were afraid lest he should have grown thoughtless, but on the contrary he remembered everything; and it was he who thought of the boat and unpacked the things. He had gained a quickness and power of thought that was quite refreshing, and a liveliness in expressing his feelings, which, during the whole year, had only been repressed.
The schoolmaster looked ten years younger. "Now we have come so far with him," said he, as he rose to go.
The mother called Ovind aside, "Some one expects you at nine o"clock,"
she whispered.
"Where?"
"Up on the ridge."
Ovind looked at the clock, it was nearly nine. He could not wait in the house, but went out, clambered up the ridge, and looked round. The house roof lay close below; the bushes on the roof were very much larger, and all the small trees had grown; he could remember each one.
And there lay the road, grey and sombre, and the wood with its varied foliage, and in the bay a vessel laden with planks, waiting for wind.
The lake was bright and calm; some sea-birds flew over, but did not cry as it was late. He sat down waiting; the small trees prevented him from seeing very far over, but he listened to the slightest noise. For some time there were only birds that started up and deceived him; then again, a squirrel springing from tree to tree. But at last he heard a rustling, then it ceased; then it came again. He rose,--his heart beat fast, the blood rushed into his head; there was a movement in the bushes close to him, and a s.h.a.ggy dog appeared; it was the dog from Heidegaard, and close behind, it rustled again; the dog looked back and wagged his tail; now comes Marit.
A bush caught her dress, she turned to release it, and so she stood when he first saw her; she had her hair plainly dressed, as was the custom with the peasant girls on week days; she wore a strong plaided dress without sleeves, and nothing on her neck except the linen collar.
She had stolen away from her work, and durst not stay to tidy herself.
She looked up and smiled, then she came forward, growing more and more red at each step. He went to meet her, and took her hand in both of his; she looked down, and so they stood.
"Thanks for all your letters," was the first he said, and when she then looked up a little and laughed, he felt that she was the most roguish little elf he ever could meet in a wood; but he was caught, and she not any the less.
"How you have grown!" she said, but meant something quite different.
They looked at each other but said nothing. Meanwhile the dog had seated himself at the edge of the ridge, and looked down upon the farm, and Th.o.r.e observing his head from below, could not for his life think what it could be.
When, at last, the two began to talk, Ovind spoke so quickly that Marit couldn"t help laughing.
"Yes, you see, it"s when I am glad, really glad, you see, and when we came to understand each other it was as if a lock sprang open within me, sprang open, you see."
She laughed, then she said, "I know all the letters you sent me by heart."
"And I know yours too, but you always wrote such short letters."
"Because you always wanted them so long."
"And when I wanted you to write about one particular thing, you slipped away, and I never heard how you got rid of Jon Hatlen."
"I laughed."
"How?"
"Laughed, don"t you know what it is to laugh?"
"Yes, I can laugh!"
"Let me see!"
"Did you ever hear such a thing! I must have something to laugh at first."
"I don"t need it when I am happy."
"Are you happy now, Marit?"