Chapter XII: Introduction: I (10)

When he reached Hans Olsa’s house he asked at once if he might speak to Sörine alone; he seemed bashful and embarrassed—tried to assume a bantering air, but didn’t quite succeed. When Sörine had stepped outside with him he asked beseechingly if she would be kind enough to go over and look after Beret—the sooner the better!

—Was there anything going on? Sörine asked.

—No, not exactly _that_—though it must be nearly time now. But Sörine ought to remember that it was pretty lonesome for her, sitting there alone, unable even to go outside the door. Day after day Beret neither saw nor heard another person, outside of the family!

—Yes, certainly—she would be glad to run over!

—Could she go right away?

—Was there such an awful hurry?—Sörine still suspected Per Hansa’s denial. If that was the case, he had better go and get Kjersti at once; she didn’t care to tackle this job alone!

—No, no—it wasn’t that!

Sörine went in for a moment to put on her coat; soon she came out again, ready to start. He went with her for some distance....

—Wasn’t he coming along?—she asked, stopping to look inquiringly at him.

—No, he guessed he wouldn’t; he needed to have a little talk with Hans Olsa to-night. He only wanted to say this: that she who understood all such things so capably, must look well to Beret now; she mustn’t come away and leave her too soon!

Sörine’s kind, intelligent face looked straight into his.

“I can see that you’re worried about your wife to-night, Per Hansa.... That’s fine of you, I say!”

“God richly bless you for those words, Sörrina!”

Per Hansa suddenly felt like a new person; and yet he lacked the courage to look up.

“But let me tell you one thing, Sörrina: I’m not half so worried about my wife as I am about myself! To-day I nearly laid hands on her—that’s how fine I am, and now you know it!... Hurry along!”

“You ought to have a whaling for that, Per Hansa!” she said with a laugh, but immediately grew serious.... “Alas! life lays a hard hand on all of us!... Well, now I’m off. You don’t need to hurry to-night—if we need you, I’ll send Ola.”

Per Hansa stood there in the darkness of the winter night, looking after the disappearing figure.... No, her equal was not to be found! She could be both minister and father confessor, that woman!

VII

He had barely entered Hans Olsa’s house, found a seat, and lighted his pipe, when another visitor arrived. Tönseten came in, apparently in a bad humour; no, he didn’t want to sit down; he was going farther on in a minute or two. Did they know that the Solum boys were about to leave?

“I guess we know as much as you do,” said Per Hansa, dryly.... “There’s such a lot going on around here these days!”

“But this won’t do, folks, I tell you—it simply won’t do! As Kjersti says, soon we’ll have nothing but the snow left!”

“And I hope that’ll go in time, too,” laughed Per Hansa.

“It probably will!” Tönseten snapped, irritably. “But what I don’t understand is, why have you folks let things come to such a pass?”

“_We_...?” Per Hansa asked.

“Yes, _you_!... The two of you!”

“We can’t very well _tie up_ the boys, when they are bent on going,” said Hans Olsa.

“I didn’t say we could!” ... Tönseten stood in front of him, waving his arms excitedly. “But we can use common sense, can’t we?”

“Very well, Syvert, let’s hear your common sense,” spoke up Per Hansa.

“You talk like a fool, Per Hansa! Here you both sit around and twiddle your thumbs, doing nothing; but you’ve got cubs, and will soon have more! Why don’t you join forces and hire Henry Solum to teach school for your brats this winter? There’s a good enough head on Henry’s shoulders, let me tell you; he hasn’t had much schooling, to be sure; but the boy was born and raised in this country, and can sling the English like a native—that much _I_ know.... I haven’t any brats of my own to send; but I’ll gladly chip in a few dollars when my wheat is threshed next fall!” ... Tönseten seemed to have the details fully laid out, as usual.

The other two listened in silence. The eyes of Per Hansa began to shoot rapid, sparkling glances, which always betrayed the fact that he was in good humour; but it was some time before he opened his mouth. Hans Olsa sat pondering over the new idea that had just been proposed; it was perfectly true that the children needed schooling; but how did this bear on the case, when the Solum boys were ready and determined to go?

“I see you’re still hesitating!” Tönseten exclaimed, snappishly. “Listen here, now: we’re all going straight over to the Solum boys and talk them into it right away!”

“It strikes me this way,” said Hans Olsa, slowly. “If they have made up their minds, it isn’t right for us to interfere.”

“Made up their minds!” snorted Tönseten, contemptuously. “What nonsense you’re talking, Hans Olsa! How many times have you made up your mind, I’d like to know, and then unmade it again?... I can assure you of one thing, fellows: if we let Sam and Henry slip away from us now, it’s certainly doubtful if we ever see them again—single and unhitched as they are! That’s just Kjersti’s opinion, too. Then won’t we be left in a fine mess, I ask you—for what chance would we stand of ever getting such good neighbours again?”

“We might try it,” Hans Olsa conceded. “What do you think, Per Hansa?”

Per Hansa jumped up from his chair. “I’ll do whatever you say, friends. We can get no worse than a refusal.” ... But then he remembered something, and hesitated for a moment.... “I really oughtn’t to be going over there; but—oh, well! who cares!” He grabbed up his cap impulsively.... “I might as well give Henry a chance to tell me what he thinks of me!... The sooner, the better!”

They held a lengthy conference with the Solum boys that night. Outside of their hut the sleigh waited in readiness; inside the door the chest stood packed; the boys were on the point of going to bed when the three men entered, and were evidently annoyed to see them.... The newcomers seemed unaccountably bashful.

Hans Olsa announced their errand.

At this Henry burst out laughing.... No, a school-teacher he could never be, he said; he had other things to think of; back east in Minnesota somewhere, a girl was straying about looking for him; if he could only find her, he too would be needing a teacher by and by!...

Then Tönseten began to talk; there was a note in his voice that put all joking aside, even though they had to laugh at him now and then:

“If you leave this place, you’ll have to take Kjersti and me along with you, though I don’t know what we would do with ourselves back in Minnesota! She and I crossed the Red Sea, as it were, when we left last spring.... For her and me there is no road leading back!... What do you think we’re going to do, I’d like to know, when you are gone? At Hans Olsa’s they don’t play cards; and Per Hansa, poor devil—well, he has a sick woman on his hands.... God alone knows how that business is going to come off. That’s just what Kjersti says, too!”

Per Hansa had been silent ever since he came in; now he knocked the ashes out of his pipe, rose from the chest, and turned to Henry:

“I’ll tell you exactly how we stand—and this is gospel truth. If you and Sam leave us now, it’ll be so dull and dreary for the rest of us that we might as well hang ourselves. You saw how I went to pieces to-day? You came and made me the finest kind of an offer, and in return I flew right in your face; you know blamed well, Henry, that such is not my way.” ... Here he paused for a moment, and then went on: “What sort of a school-teacher you’ll make I haven’t the faintest idea; I only know this, that you and your brother are both fine fellows and that none of us can afford to lose you.... Now, go ahead and do as your heart bids!”

Per Hansa had spoken with forced calmness; the seriousness of the situation bore in upon them all. Everyone in the room had the same thought: this strong man was likely at any minute to burst into tears.

... A long silence fell. Tönseten blew his nose violently between his fingers, after which he wiped them off on his trousers.

At last Henry spoke—his voice was husky and subdued: “It’s harder on us than it is on you. We have only each other; but you have wives and children to squabble with!”

“Children!” cried Tönseten, wiping his eyes.... “Good God! what are you saying, Henry?” ...

“Well, all the same,” Henry continued, earnestly, “if you will undertake to give us supper, one week with each of you, and have our clothes mended, we’ll try to hang on a little while.... What do you say, Sam?”

VIII

The days wore on ... sunny days ... bleak, gloomy days, with cold that congealed all life.

There was one who heeded not the light of the day, whether it might be grey or golden. Beret stared at the earthen floor of the hut and saw only night round about her.

Yes ... she faced only darkness. She tried hard, but she could not let in the sun.

Ever since she had come out here a grim conviction had been taking stronger and stronger hold on her.

This was her retribution!

Now had fallen the punishment which the Lord God had meted out to her; at last His visitation had found her out and she must drink the cup of his wrath. Far away she had fled, from the rising of the sun to the going down thereof ... so it had seemed to her ... but the arm of His might had reached farther still. No, she could not escape—this was her retribution!

The stillness out here had given her full opportunity for reflection; all the fall she had done nothing but brood and remember.... Alas! she had much to remember!

She had accepted the hand of Per Hansa because she must—although no law had compelled her; she and he were the only people who had willed it thus. She had been gotten with child by him out of wedlock; nevertheless, no one had compelled her to marry him—neither father, nor mother, nor anyone in authority. It had been wholly her own doing. Her parents, in fact, had set themselves against the marriage with all their might, even after the child, Ole, had come.

... It had mattered nothing at all what they had said, nor what anyone else had said; for her there had been no other person in the world but Per Hansa! Whenever she had been with him she had forgotten the admonitions and prayers of her father and mother.... He had been life itself to her; without him there had been nothing.... Therefore she had given herself to him, although she had known it was a sin—had continued to give herself freely, in a spirit of abandoned joy.

Now she found plenty of time to remember how her parents had begged and threatened her to break with him; she recalled all that they had said, turning it over in her mind and examining it minutely.... Per Hansa was a shiftless fellow, they had told her; he drank; he fought; he was wild and reckless; he got himself tangled up in all sorts of brawls; no honourable woman could be happy with such a man. He probably had affairs with other women, too, whenever he had a chance.... All the other accusations she knew to be true; but not the last—no, not the last! She alone among women held his heart. The certainty of this fact had been the very sweetness of life to her.... What did she care for the rest of it! All was as nothing compared with this great certainty.... Ah, no—she knew it well enough: for him she was the only princess!

But now she understood clearly all that her parents had done to end it between them, and all the sacrifices they had been willing to make; she had not realized it at the time.... Oh, those kind-hearted parents on whom she had turned her back in order that she might cleave to him: how they must have suffered! The life which she and he had begotten in common guilt they had offered to take as their own, give it their name and their inheritance, and bring it up as their very child. They had freely offered to use their hard-earned savings to send her away from the scene of her shame ... so precious had she been to them! But she had only said no, and no, and no, to all their offers of sacrifice and love!... Had there ever been a transgression so grievous as hers!

... Yet how could she ever have broken with him? Where Per Hansa was, there dwelt high summer and there it bloomed for her. How can a human forsake his very life?... Whenever she heard of one of his desperately reckless cruises through rough and stormy seas, on which he had played with the lives of his comrades as well as his own, her cheeks would glow and her heart would flame. This was the man her heart had chosen—this was he, and he alone! a voice would sing within her. Or when she sat among the heather on the mountain side in the fair summer night, and he came to her and laid his head in her lap—the tousled head that only she could lull to sleep—then she felt that now she was crossing the very threshold of paradise!... Though she had had a thousand lives, she would have thrown them all away for one such moment—and would have been glad of the bargain!...

... Yes, she remembered all that had happened in those days; it was so still out here ... so easy to remember!

No one had ever told her, but she knew full well who it was that had persuaded Hans Olsa to leave the land and the ancient farm that had been in his family for generations, and go to America. There had been only one other person in the world whom Per Hansa loved, and that was Hans Olsa. She had been jealous of Hans Olsa because of this; it had seemed to her that he took something that rightfully belonged to her. She had even felt the same way toward Sörine, who was kindness itself; on this account she had not been able to hold her friendship as fully as she needed to, either in Norway or here....

... But when Per Hansa had come home from Lofoten that spring and announced in his reckless, masterful way, that he was off for America: would Beret come now, or wait until later?... Well, there hadn’t been a “no” in her mouth then! There she had sat, with three children in a nice little home which, after the manner of simple folk, they had managed to build.... But she had risen up, taken the children with her, and left it all as if nothing mattered but him!

... How her mother had wept at that time!... How her father had grieved when they had left! Time after time he had come begging to Per Hansa, offering him all that he had—boat and fishing outfit, house and farm—if only he would settle down in Norway and not take their daughter from them forever.... But Per Hansa had laughed it all aside! There had been a power in his unflinching determination which had sent hot waves through her. She must have led a double life at that time; she had been sad with her parents but had rejoiced with Per Hansa. He had raged like a storm through those days, wild and reckless—and sometimes ruthless, too.... No!—he had cried—they would just make that little trip across the ocean! America—that’s the country where a poor devil can get ahead! Besides, it was only a little way; if they didn’t like it, they could drift back on the first fair western breeze!... So they had sold off everything that they had won with so much toil, had left it all like a pair of worn-out shoes—parents, home, fatherland, and people.... And she had done it gladly, even rejoicingly!... Was there ever a sin like hers?

IX

... Then she had arrived in America. The country did not at all come up to her expectations; here, too, she saw enough of poverty and grinding toil. What did it avail, that the rich soil lay in endless stretches? More than ever did she realize that “man liveth not by bread alone!” ... Even the bread was none too plentiful at times....

Beyond a doubt, it was Destiny that had brought her thither.... Destiny, the inexorable law of life, which the Lord God from eternity had laid down for every human being, according to the path He knew would be taken.... Now punishment stood here awaiting her—the punishment for having broken God’s commandment of filial obedience.... Throughout the fall she had been reckoning up her score, and it came out exactly thus: Destiny had so arranged everything that the punishment should strike her all the more inevitably. Destiny had cast her into the arms of Per Hansa—and she did not regret it! Destiny had held up America as an enticing will-o’-the-wisp—and they had followed!...

But no sooner had they reached America than the west-fever had smitten the old settlements like a plague. Such a thing had never happened before in the history of mankind; people were intoxicated by bewildering visions; they spoke dazedly, as though under the force of a spell.... “Go west!... Go west, folks!... The farther west, the better the land!” ... Men beheld in feverish dreams the endless plains, teeming with fruitfulness, glowing, out there where day sank into night—a Beulah Land of corn and wine!... She had never dreamed that the good Lord would let such folly loose among men. Were it only the young people who had been caught by the plague, she would not have wondered; but the old had been taken even worse.... “Now we’re bound west!” said the young.... “Wait a minute—we’re going along with you!” cried the old, and followed after.... Human beings gathered together, in small companies and large—took whatever was movable along, and left the old homestead without as much as a sigh! Ever westward led the course, to where the sun glowed in matchless glory as it sank at night; people drifted about in a sort of delirium, like sea birds in mating time; then they flew toward the sunset, in small flocks and large—always toward Sunset Land.... Now she saw it clearly: here on the trackless plains, the thousand-year-old hunger of the poor after human happiness had been unloosed!

Into this feverish atmosphere they had come. Could Destiny have spun his web more cunningly? She remembered well how the eyes of Per Hansa had immediately begun to gleam and glow!... And the strange thing about this spell had been that he had become so very kind under it. How playfully affectionate he had grown toward her during the last winter and spring! It had been even more deliciously sweet to give herself to him then, than back in those days when she had first won him. Was it not worth all the care and sorrow in the world to taste such bliss, she had often asked herself—but had been unable to answer. But—then it had happened: this spring she had been gotten with child again.... Let no one tell her that this was not Destiny!

She had urged against this last journey; she had argued that they must tarry where they were until she had borne the child. One year more or less would make no difference, considering all the land there was in the west.... Hans Olsa, however, had been ready to start; and so there had been no use in trying to hold back Per Hansa. All her misgiving he had turned to sport and laughter, or playful love; he had embraced her, danced around with her, and become so roguish that she had been forced to laugh with him.... “Come here, _Litagod_—now we’re gone!” ... She well recalled how lovely this endearing term had sounded in her ears, the first night he had used it....

But this was clear to her beyond a doubt: Per Hansa was without blame in what had happened—all the blame was hers.... He had never been so tender toward her as in the days since they had come out here; she could not have thought it possible for one human being to have such strong desire for another as he held.... Who could match him—who dared follow where he led? She remembered all that he had wrought since they had set out on their journey last spring, and felt that no one else could do it after him. He was like the north wind that sweeps the cloud banks from the heavens!... At these thoughts, something unspeakably soft and loving came into Beret’s eyes.... No, not like the north wind: like the gentle breeze of a summer’s night—that’s how he was!... And this, too, was only retribution. She had bound herself inseparably to this man; now she was but a hindrance to him, like chains around his feet; him, whom she loved unto madness, she burdened and impeded ... she was only in his way!

... But that he could not understand it—that he could not fathom the source of her trouble; that seemed wholly incomprehensible to her. Didn’t he realize that she could never be like him?... No one in all the world was like him! How could she be?...

X

Beret struggled with many thoughts these days.

... Wasn’t it remarkable how ingeniously Destiny had arranged it all? For ten long years he had cast her about like a chip on the current, and then had finally washed her ashore here. _Here_, far off in the great stillness, where there was nothing to hide behind—here the punishment would fall!... Could a better place have been found in which to lay her low?

... Life was drawing to a close. One fact stood before her constantly: she would never rise again from the bed in which she was soon to lie down.... This was the end.

... Often, now, she found herself thinking of the churchyard at home.... It would have been so pleasant to lie down there.... The churchyard was enclosed by a massive stone wall, broad and heavy; one couldn’t imagine anything more reliable than that wall. She had sat on it often in the years when she was still her father’s little girl.... In the midst of the churchyard lay the church, securely protecting everything round about. No fear had ever dwelt in that place; she could well remember how the boys used to jump over the graves; it had been great fun, too—at times she had joined the game.... Within that wall many of her dear ones slumbered: two brothers whom she had never seen, and a little sister that she remembered quite clearly, though she had died long, long ago; her grandparents, on both her father’s and her mother’s side, also rested here, and one of her great-grandfathers. She knew where all these graves lay. Her whole family, generation after generation, rested there—many more than she had any knowledge of.... Around the churchyard stood a row of venerable trees, looking silently down on the peace and the stillness within.... They gave such good shelter, those old trees!

... She could not imagine where he would bury her out here.... _Now_, in the dead of winter—the ground frozen hard!... How would he go about it?... If he would only dig deep down ... the wolves gave such unearthly howls at night! No matter what he thought of it, she would have to speak to him about the grave.... Well, no need to mention it just now.

One day when Beret had to go out she stayed longer than usual. Before she finally came back to the house she went to the spot where the woodpile had stood, visited the curious little fort which they had built of chopped wood, and then entered the stable.... It worried her to know where he would find material for a coffin. She had looked everywhere outside, but had discovered only a few bits of plank and the box in which he had mixed the lime.... Hadn’t she better remind him of this at once? Then perhaps he could go to the Trönders, east on the Sioux River, and get some lumber from them.... Never mind, she wouldn’t do anything about it for a few days yet.

... If he could only spare her the big chest!... Beret fell to looking at it, and grew easier in her mind.... That chest had belonged to her great-grandfather, but it must have been in the family long before his day; on it she could make out only the words “_Anno_ 16—” ... the rest was completely worn away. Along the edges and running twice around the middle were heavy iron bands.... Beret would go about looking at the chest—would lift the lid and gaze down inside.... Plenty of room in there, if they would only put something under her head and back! She felt as if she could sleep safely in that bed. She would have to talk to Sörine about all these matters.... One day Beret began to empty the chest; she got Per Hansa to make a small cupboard out of the mortar box, and put all the things in there; but she took great care not to do this while he was around.

She realized now the great forethought he had shown last summer in building the house and stable under one roof. They undoubtedly had the warmest house in the neighbourhood; and then she enjoyed the company of the animals as she lay awake at night; it felt so cosy and secure to lie there and listen to them.... She could easily distinguish each animal by its particular manner of breathing and lying down. The oxen were always the last to finish munching; Rosie was the first to go to sleep; Injun’s habits were entirely different from those of the others; he moved softly, almost without noise, as if engaged in some secret business. She never could hear him, except when the howl of a wolf sounded near by; then he would snort and stamp his feet. It was probably the wild blood in him that made him so different!... Beret had learned to love the pony.

When she was not listening to the animals she had other things to occupy her mind.... As a little girl, she had often been taken into bed by her grandmother. This grandmother had been a kindly woman, sunny and always happy, in spite of her great age; each night before going to sleep she would repeat to herself pious little verses from memory. Beret could not remember them all now; but she managed to patch them together little by little, inserting new lines of her own, and repeating them over and over to herself. This she would do for hours at a time, occasionally sitting up in bed to say the verses aloud:

“Thy heavy wrath avert
From me, a wretched sinner;
Thy blissful mercy grant,
Father of love eternal!

“My sins are as many
As dust in the rays of the sun,
And as sands on the shore of the sea—
If by Thee requited,
I must sink benighted.

“Look with pity,
Tender Saviour,
At my wretched state!
Wounds of sin are burning;
May Thy hands, in love returning,
Heal my stinging stripes!

“Weighed by guilt I weary wander
In the desert here below;
When I measure
My transgressions,
Breaches of Thy holy law,
I must ponder
Oft, and wonder;
Canst Thou grace on me bestow?

“Gentle Saviour,
Cast my burden
Deep into the mercy-sea!
Blessed Jesus,
Mild Redeemer,
Thou Who gav’st Thy life for me!”

XI

The day before Christmas Eve snow fell. It fell all that night and the following forenoon.... Still weather, and dry, powdery snow.... Murk without, and leaden dusk in the huts. People sat oppressed in the sombre gloom.

... Things were in a bad way over at Per Hansa’s now; everyone knew it and feared what might befall both Beret and him.... No one could help; all that could be done was to bide the time; for soon a change must come!

“Listen, folks,” said Tönseten, trying to comfort them as best he could. “Beret can’t keep this up forever! I think you had better go over to her again, Kjersti!”

Both neighbour women were now taking turns at staying with her, each one a day at a time. They saw clearly that Per Hansa was more in need of help than Beret; there was no helping her now, while something, at least, could be done for him and the children. Christmas would soon be here, too, and the house ought to be made comfortable and cosy!

They all felt very sorry for Per Hansa. He walked about like a ragged stray dog; his eyes burned with a hunted look. Each day, the children were sent over to Hans Olsa’s to stay for a while; if they remained longer than they had been told, he made no protest; at last they formed the habit of staying the whole day. He did not realize that it was bad for Beret to be without them so much; he tried to keep the talk going himself, but she had little to say; she answered in monosyllables and had grown peculiarly quiet and distant. In the shadow of a faint smile which she occasionally gave him there lay a melancholy deeper than the dusk of the Arctic Sea on a rainy, grey fall evening.

About noon of Christmas Eve the air suddenly cleared. An invisible fan was pushed in under the thick, heavy curtain that hung trembling between earth and heaven—made a giant sweep, and revealed the open, blue sky overhead. The sun shone down with powerful beams, and started a slight trickling from the eaves. Toward evening, it built a golden fairy castle for itself out yonder, just beyond Indian Hill.

The children were at Hans Olsa’s; And-Ongen wanted to stay outside and watch the sunset. Sofie had told her that to-day was Christmas Eve, and that on every Christmas Jesus came down from heaven. The child asked many questions.... Would he come driving? Couldn’t they lend him the pony?... Sofie hardly thought so—he probably would be driving an angel-pony!

Store-Hans, who was listening to them, thought this very silly and just like girls. He knew better!... Toward evening he suddenly wanted to go home, and was almost beside himself when his godfather said that he couldn’t: all the children were to stay with Sofie to-night. They had to hold him back by force.... This was _Christmas Eve_.... He understood very well that something was about to go wrong at home. Why had his mother looked so wan and worn of late, and his father acted so queer that one couldn’t talk to him?

That afternoon Beret was in childbed.... The grim struggle marked Per Hansa for life; he had fought his way through many a hard fight, but they had all been as nothing compared with this. He had ridden the frail keel of a capsized boat on the Lofoten seas, had seen the huge, combing waves snatch away his comrades one by one, and had rejoiced in the thought that the end would soon come for him also; but things of that sort had been mere child’s play.... _This_ was the uttermost darkness. Here was neither beginning nor end—only an awful void in which he groped alone....

Sörine and Kjersti had both arrived a long time since. When they had come he had put on his coat and gone outside; but he hadn’t been able to tear himself many steps away from the house.

Now it was evening; he had wandered into the stable to milk Rosie, forgetting that she had gone dry long ago; he had tended to Injun and the oxen, without knowing what he was about.... He listened to Beret wailing in the other room, and his heart shrivelled; thus a weak human being could not continue to suffer, and yet live.... And this was his own Beret!

He stood in the door of the stable, completely undone. Just then Kjersti ran out to find him; he must come in at once; Beret was asking for him!... Kjersti was gone in a flash.... He entered the house, took off his outdoor clothes, and washed his hands....

... Beret sat half dressed on the edge of the bed. He looked at her, and thought that he had never seen such terror on any face.... God in heaven—this was beyond human endurance!

She was fully rational, and asked the neighbour women to leave the room for a moment, as she had something to say to her husband. She spoke with great composure; they obeyed immediately. When the door closed behind them Beret rose and came over to him, her face distorted. She laid a hand on each of his shoulders, and looked deep into his eyes, then clasped her hands behind his neck and pulled him violently toward her. Putting his arms firmly around her, he lifted her up gently and carried her to the bed; there he laid her down. He started to pull the covers over her.... But she held on to him; his solicitous care she heeded not at all.

When he had freed himself, she spoke brokenly, between gasps:

... “To-night I am leaving you.... Yes, I must leave you.... I know this is the end! The Lord has found me out because of my sins.... It is written, ‘To fall into the hands of the living God!’ ... Oh!—it is terrible!... I can’t see how you will get along when you are left alone ... though I have only been a burden to you lately.... You had better give And-Ongen to Kjersti ... she wants a child so badly—she is a kind woman.... You must take the boys with you—and _go away from here_!... How lonesome it will be for me ... to lie here all alone!”

Tears came to her eyes, but she did not weep; between moans she went on strongly and collectedly:

“But promise me one thing: put me away in the big chest!... I have emptied it and made it ready.... Promise to lay me away in the big chest, Per Hansa!... And you must be sure to dig the grave deep!... You haven’t heard how terribly the wolves howl at night!... Promise to take plenty of time and dig deep down—do you hear!”

His wife’s request cut Per Hansa’s heart like sharp ice; he threw himself on his knees beside the bed and wiped the cold perspiration from her face with a shaking hand.

... “There now, blessed Beret-girl of mine!” ... His words sounded far off—a note of frenzy in them.... “Can’t you understand that this will soon be over?... To-morrow you’ll be as chipper as a lark again!”

Her terror tore her only the worse. Without heeding his words, she spoke with great force out of the clearness of her vision:

“I shall die to-night.... Take the big chest!... At first I thought of asking you not to go away when spring came ... and leave me here alone.... But that would be a sin!... I tell you, you _must go_!... Leave as soon as spring comes! Human beings cannot exist here!... They grow into beasts....”

The throes were tearing her so violently now that she could say no more. But when she saw him rise she made a great effort and sat up in bed.

... “Oh!—don’t leave me!—don’t go away!... Can’t you see how sorely I need you?... And now I shall die!... Love me—oh, do love me once more, Per Hansa!” ... She leaned her body toward him.... “You must go back to Norway.... Take the children with you ... let them grow up there. Ask father and mother to forgive me!... Tell father that I am lying in the big chest!... Can’t you stay with me to-night ... stay with me and love me?... Oh!—_there they come for me_!”

Beret gave a long shriek that rent the night. Then she sobbed violently, praying that they should not take her away from Per Hansa....

Per Hansa leaped to his feet, and found his voice.

“Satan—now you shall leave her alone!” he shouted, flinging the door open and calling loudly to the women outside. Then he vanished into the darkness.

No one thought of seeking rest that night. All the evening, lights shone from the four huts; later they were extinguished in two of them; but in the house of Hans Olsa four men sat on, grieving over the way things were going at Per Hansa’s. When they could bear the suspense no longer some one proposed going over to get news.

Tönseten offered to go first.... When he came back little sense could be gathered from what he said. He had not been allowed inside; the women were in a frenzy; the house was completely upset; Beret was wailing so loud that it was dreadful to hear. And Per Hansa himself was nowhere to be found.... “We must go and look for him, boys!... Haven’t you got a Bible or something to read from, Hans Olsa? This is an awful thing!”

... There they sat, each occupied with his own thoughts—but all their thoughts were of the same trend. If Beret died to-night, it would go hard with Per Hansa—indeed it would. In that case he probably wouldn’t stay out here very long.... But if he went away, the rest of them might as well pack up and go, too!

Sam ran over to inquire; then Henry; at last it was Hans Olsa’s turn. He managed to get a couple of words with his wife, who said that Beret would hardly stand it. No one had seen Per Hansa.

“Can you imagine where the man can be keeping himself?” asked Tönseten, giving voice to the fear that oppressed them all.... “May the Lord preserve his wits, even if He chooses to take his wife away!” ...

Per Hansa walked to and fro outside the hut all night long; when he heard some one coming he would run away into the darkness. He could not speak to a living soul to-night. As soon as the visitor had gone he would approach the hut again, circle around it, stop, and listen. Tears were streaming down his face, though he was not aware of it.... Every shriek that pierced the walls of the hut drove him off as if a whip had struck him; but as soon as it had died out, something would draw him back again. At intervals he went to the door and held it ajar.... What did Per Hansa care for custom and decency, now that his Beret lay struggling with death!... Each time Sörine came to the door; each time she shook her head sadly, and told him there was no change yet; it was doubtful if Beret would be able to pull through; no person could endure this much longer; God have mercy on all of them!

That was all the comfort Sörine could give him.... Then he would rush off into the darkness again, to continue his endless pacing; when daylight came they found a hard path tramped into the snow around the hut.

The night was well-nigh spent when the wails in there began to weaken—then died out completely, and did not come again. Per Hansa crept up to the door, laid his ear close to it, and listened.... So now the end had come! His breath seemed to leave him in a great sob. The whole prairie began to whirl around with him; he staggered forward a few steps and threw himself face downward on the snow.

... But then suddenly things didn’t seem so bad to him ... really not so bad.... He saw a rope ... a rope.... It was a good, strong rope that would hold anything.... It hung just inside the barn door—and the crossbeam ran just _there_!... No trick at all to find these things. Per Hansa felt almost happy at the thought; that piece of rope was good and strong—and the crossbeam ran just _there_!

... A door opened somewhere; a gleam of light flashed across the snow, and vanished. Some one came out of the hut quietly—then stopped, as if searching.

“Per Hansa!” a low voice called.... “Per Hansa, where are you?” ... He rose and staggered toward Kjersti like a drunken man.

“You must come in at once!” she whispered, and hurried in before him.

The light was dim in there; nevertheless it blinded him so strongly that he could not see a thing. He stood a moment leaning against the door until his eyes had grown accustomed to it.... A snug, cosy warmth enveloped him; it carried with it an odd, pleasant odour. The light, the warmth, and the pleasant smell overcame him like sweet sleep that holds a person who has been roused, but who does not care to awaken just yet.

“How is it?” he heard a man’s voice ask. Then he came back to his senses.... Was that he himself speaking?...

“You’ll have to ask Sörrina,” Kjersti answered.

Sörine was tending something on the bed; not until now did he discover her—and wake up completely.... What was this?... the expression on her face? Wasn’t it beaming with motherly goodness and kindliness?

“Yes, here’s your little fellow! I have done all I know how. Come and look at him.... It’s the greatest miracle I ever saw, Per Hansa, that you didn’t lose your wife to-night, and the child too!... I pray the Lord _I_ never have to suffer so!”

“Is there any hope?” was all Per Hansa could gasp—and then he clenched his teeth.

“It looks so, now—but you had better christen him at once.... We had to handle him roughly, let me tell you.”

“_Christen him_?” Per Hansa repeated, unable to comprehend the words.

“Why, yes, of course. I wouldn’t wait, if he were mine.”

Per Hansa heard no more—for now Beret turned her head and a wave of such warm joy welled up in him that all the ice melted. He found himself crying softly, sobbing like a child.... He approached the bed on tiptoe, bent over it, and gazed down into the weary, pale face. It lay there so white and still; her hair, braided in two thick plaits, flowed over the pillow. All the dread, all the tormenting fear that had so long disfigured her features, had vanished completely.... She turned her head a little, barely opened her eyes, and said, wearily:

“Oh, leave me in peace, Per Hansa.... Now I was sleeping so well.”

... The eyelids immediately closed.

XII

Per Hansa stood for a long time looking at his wife, hardly daring to believe what he saw. She slept peacefully; a small bundle lay beside her, from which peeped out a tiny, red, wrinkled face.... As he continued to gaze at her he sensed clearly that this moment was making him a better man!

At last he gathered his wits sufficiently to turn to Sörine and ask:

“Tell me, what sort of a fellow is this you have brought me—a boy or a girl?”

“Heavens! Per Hansa, how silly you talk!” ... Kjersti and Sörine both had to laugh as they looked at Per Hansa; such a foolish, simple expression they had never seen on the face of a living man!... But Sörine immediately grew serious once more, and said that this was no time for joking; the way they had tugged and pulled at him during the night, you couldn’t tell what might happen; Per Hansa must get the child christened right away; if he put it off, she refused to be responsible.

A puzzled expression came over the grinning face.

“You’d better do that christening yourself, Sörrina!”

—No!—she shook her head emphatically. That wasn’t a woman’s job—he must understand!... “And you ought to have it done with proper decorum, and thank the Lord for doing so well by you!”

Without another word Per Hansa found his cap and went to the door; but there he paused a moment to say:

“I know only one person around here who is worthy to perform such an act; since you are unwilling, I must go and get him.... In the meanwhile, you make ready what we will need; the hymn book you’ll find on the shelf over by the window.... I won’t be long!”

The kindly eyes of Sörine beamed with joy and pride; she knew very well the one he intended to get; this was really handsome of Per Hansa!... But then another thought crossed her mind; she followed him out, and closed the door after her.

“Wait a minute,” she said. “I must tell you that your boy had the helmet[13] on when he came!... I think you ought to find a very beautiful name for him!”

[13] The English equivalent is, “to be born with the caul.” Considerable superstition has always been attached to this phenomenon and in Norway especially so; a person born with the helmet on had been singled out by Destiny for something extraordinary.

“What are you saying, Sörrina!”

“Yes, sir—that he had!... And you know what that means!”

Per Hansa drew his sleeve across his face—then turned and walked away. A moisture dimmed his eyes—he could not see....

Outside it was now broad daylight; the sun stood some distance up in the sky, looking down on a desolate earth. It was going to be cold to-day, Per Hansa noticed; clouds of frosty mist like huge writhing serpents curled over the surface of the purplish-yellow plain. The sunbeams plunging into them kindled a weird light. He tingled with the cold; his eyelashes froze together so that he had to rub them with his mittens to keep them free.

... How remarkable—the child had been born with the helmet on!... He quickened his pace; in a moment he was running....

“Peace be upon this house, and a merry Christmas, folks!” he greeted them as he entered Hans Olsa’s door.... The room was cold; the Solum boys lay in one bed, fully dressed; both were so sound asleep that they did not wake up at his coming. His own children and Sofie lay in the other bed, Ole by himself down at the foot, the other three on the pillow; Store-Hans held And-Ongen close, as if trying to protect her. Hans Olsa and Tönseten had moved their chairs up to the stove, and sat hunched over on either side; Tönseten was nodding, the other was wide awake; both men jumped up when Per Hansa came in, and stood staring at him.

Per Hansa had to laugh outright at them; they were looking at him as if they had seen a ghost. But to the two men his laugh sounded pleasanter than anything they had heard in many a year.

“How are things coming?” asked Tönseten, excitedly, working his shoulders.

“Oh, it might have been worse!”

Hans Olsa grasped his hand: “Will she pull through?”

“It looks that way.”

Then Tönseten suddenly seemed to realize that it was cold in the room; he began to walk around, beating goose with his arms.... “I’m ready to bet both my horses that it’s a boy! I can see it in your face!” he exclaimed, still beating.

“All signs point that way, Syvert! But he’s in pretty poor condition, Sörrina tells me.... Now look here, Hans Olsa: it’s up to you to come over and christen the boy for me!”

Hans Olsa looked terror-stricken at his neighbour.... “You must be crazy, Per Hansa!”

“Nothing of the kind, Hans Olsa.... You just get yourself ready.... It’s all written down in the hymn book—what to say, and how to go about it.”

“No, no—I couldn’t think of such a thing!” protested Hans Olsa, all of a tremble with the feeling of awe that had suddenly taken possession of him.... “A sinner like me!” ...

Then Per Hansa made a remark that Tönseten thought was extremely well put:

“How you stand with the Lord I don’t know. But this I do know: that a better man either on land or sea, He will have to look a long way to find.... And it seems to me that He has got to take that, too, into His reckoning!”

But Hans Olsa only stood there in terror.... “You’d better ask Syvert to do it!”

Then Tönseten grew alarmed:

“Don’t stand there talking like a fool!... We all know that if one of us two is to tackle this job, it must be you, Hans Olsa.... There is nothing for you to do but go at once; this business won’t stand any dilly-dallying, let me tell you!”

Hans Olsa gazed straight ahead; his helplessness grew so great that he was funny to look at; but no one thought of laughing, just the same.... “If it only won’t be blasphemy!” ... He finally struggled into his big coat and put on his mittens. Then he turned to Tönseten.... “The book says: ‘In an extreme emergency a layman may perform this act’—isn’t that so?”

“Yes, yes—just so!... Whatever else you’ll need, is written there too!”

Through the frosty morning the two men walked silently across the prairie, Per Hansa in the lead. When they had covered half the distance he stopped short and said to his neighbour:

“If it had been a girl, you see, she should have been named Beret—I decided that a long while ago.... But seeing that it’s a boy, we’ll have to name him Per; you must say Peder, of course!... I’ve thought a good deal about Joseph—he was a pretty fine lad, no doubt.... But grandfather’s name was Per, and there wasn’t a braver, worthier man on that part of the coast; so it’ll just have to be Per again this time.... But say, now—” Per Hansa paused a moment, pondering; then he looked up at his neighbour, and his eyes began to gleam.... “The boy must have a second name—so you’d better christen him Peder Seier![14] ... The last is after your Sörrina.... She has done me a greater service this night than I can ever repay! And now the boy is to be named after her!”

[14] The name _Seier_, which means _Victorious_, was altogether unusual to Norwegian ears. The English equivalent will be used from now on. As this name plays such an important part in the psychology of Book II the reader would do well to remember the Norwegian form.

Hans Olsa could think of nothing to say in answer to all this. They walked on in silence....

When they came into the room, they stepped across the threshold reverently. An air of Sabbath had descended on the room. The sun shone brightly through the window, spreading a golden lustre over the white walls; only along the north wall, where the bed stood, a half shadow lingered.... The fire crackled in the stove; the coffeepot was boiling. The table had been spread with a white cover; upon it lay the open hymn book, with the page turned down. Beside the hymn book stood a bowl of water; beside that lay a piece of white cloth.... Kjersti was tending the stove, piling the wood in diligently.... Sörine sat in the corner, crooning over a tiny bundle; out of the bundle at intervals came faint, wheezy chirrups, like the sounds that rise from a nest of young birds.

An irresistible force drew Per Hansa to the bed.... She lay sound asleep.... Thank God, that awful look of dread had not come back! He straightened himself up and glanced around the room; never before had he seen anything that looked so beautiful....

Sörine got up, went to the table, and bared a little rosy human head.

“If you are going to be the minister here,” she said, turning to her husband, who had remained standing motionless at the door, “then you must hurry up and get ready.... First of all you must wash your hands.”

The next moment they had all gathered around the table.