Arne; Early Tales and Sketches. Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson
Издательство: Public Domain
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
Год издания: 0
isbn:
Скачать книгу
guilty, although she had said nothing, and he knew nothing.

      "It just happened so," said the mother. Presently she added, "I am after all most fortunate," and then she wept.

      But Arne hastened out, and he felt drawn toward the Kamp gorge. He sat down to look into it, and while he was sitting there, he too wept. "If I only knew what I was crying for," mused Arne.

      Above him, in the new-plowed field, Upland Knut was singing his song: —

      "Ingerid Sletten of Willow-pool

      Had no costly trinkets to wear;

      But a cap she had that was far more fair,

      Although it was only of wool.

      "It had no trimming, and now was old,

      But her mother who long had gone

      Had given it her, and so it shone

      To Ingerid more than gold.

      "For twenty years she laid it aside,

      That it might not be worn away;

      'My cap I'll wear on that blissful day

      When I shall become a bride.'

      "For thirty years she laid it aside

      Lest the colors might fade away.

      'My cap I'll wear when to God I pray

      A happy and grateful bride.'

      "For forty years she laid it aside,

      Still holding her mother as dear;

      'My little cap, I certainly fear

      I never shall be a bride.'

      "She went to look for the cap one day

      In the chest where it long had lain;

      But ah! her looking was all in vain, —

      The cap had moldered away."12

      Arne sat and listened as though the words had been music far away up the slope. He went up to Knut.

      "Have you a mother?" asked he.

      "No."

      "Have you a father?"

      "Oh, no; I have no father."

      "Is it long since they died?"

      "Oh, yes; it is long since."

      "You have not many, I dare say, who care for you?"

      "Oh, no; not many."

      "Have you any one here?"

      "No, not here."

      "But yonder in your native parish?"

      "Oh, no; not there either."

      "Have you not any one at all who cares for you?"

      "Oh, no; I have not."

      But Arne went from him loving his own mother so intensely that it seemed as though his heart would break; and he felt, as it were, a blissful light over him. "Thou Heavenly Father," thought he, "Thou hast given her to me, and such unspeakable love with the gift, and I put this away from me; and one day when I want it, she will be perhaps no more!" He felt a desire to go to her, if for nothing else only to look at her. But on the way, it suddenly occurred to him: "Perhaps because you did not appreciate her you may soon have to endure the grief of losing her!" He stood still at once. "Almighty God! what then would become of me?"

      He felt as though some calamity must be happening at home. He hastened toward the house; cold sweat stood on his brow; his feet scarcely touched the ground. He tore open the passage door, but within the whole atmosphere was at once filled with peace. He softly opened the door into the family-room. The mother had gone to bed, the moon shone full in her face, and she lay sleeping calmly as a child.

      CHAPTER VI

      Some days after this, mother and son, who of late had been more together, agreed to be present at the wedding of some relatives at a neighboring gard. The mother had not been to any party since she was a girl.

      They knew few people at the wedding, save by name, and Arne thought it especially strange that everybody stared at him wherever he went.

      Once some words were spoken behind him in the passage; he was not sure, but he fancied he understood them, and every drop of blood rushed into his face whenever he thought of them.

      He could not keep his eyes off the man who had spoken these words; finally, he took a seat beside him. But as he drew up to the table he thought the conversation took another turn.

      "Well, now I am going to tell you a story, which proves that nothing can be buried so deep down in night that it will not find its way into daylight," said the man, and Arne was sure he looked at him. He was an ill-favored man, with thin, red hair encircling a great, round brow. Beneath were a pair of very small eyes and a little bottle-shaped nose; but the mouth was very large, with very pale, out-turned lips. When he laughed, he showed his gums. His hands lay on the table: they were clumsy and coarse, but the wrists were slender. He looked sharp and talked fast, but with much effort. People nicknamed him the Rattle-tongue, and Arne knew that tailor Nils had dealt roughly with him in the old days.

      "Yes, there is a great deal of wickedness in this world; it comes nearer home to us than we think. But no matter; you shall hear now of an ugly deed. Those who are old remember Alf, Scrip Alf. 'Sure to come back!' said Alf; that saying comes from him; for when he had struck a bargain – and he could trade, that fellow! – he flung his scrip on his back. 'Sure to come back,' said Alf. A devilish good fellow, fine fellow, splendid fellow, this Alf, Scrip Alf!

      "Well, there was Alf and Big Lazy-bones – aye, you knew Big Lazy-bones? – he was big and he was lazy too. He looked too long at a shining black horse Scrip Alf drove and had trained to spring like a summer frog. And before Big Lazy-bones knew what he was about, he had given fifty dollars for the nag Big Lazy-bones mounted a carriole,13 as large as life, to drive like a king with his fifty-dollar horse; but now he might lash and swear until the gard was all in a smoke; the horse ran, for all that, against all the doors and walls that were in the way; he was stone blind.

      "Afterwards, Alf and Big Lazy-bones fell to quarreling about this horse all through the parish, just like a couple of dogs. Big Lazy-bones wanted his money back; but you may believe he never got so much as two Danish shillings. Scrip Alf thrashed him until the hair flew. 'Sure to come back,' said Alf. Devilish good fellow, fine fellow, splendid fellow, this Alf – Scrip Alf.

      "Well, then, some years passed by without his being heard of again.

      "It might have been ten years later that he was published on the church hill;14 there had been left to him a tremendous fortune. Big Lazy-bones was standing by. 'I knew very well,' said he, 'that it was money that was crying for Scrip Alf, and not people.'

      "Now there was a great deal of gossip about Alf; and out of it all was gathered that he had been seen last on this side of Rören, and not on the other. Yes, you remember the Rören road – the old road?

      "But Big Lazy-bones had succeeded in rising to great power and splendor, owning both farm and complete outfit.

      "Moreover, he had professed great piety, and everybody knew he did not become pious for nothing – any more than other folks do. People began to talk about it.

      "It was at this time that the Rören road was to be changed, old-time folks wanted to go straight ahead, and so it went directly over Rören; but we like things level, and so the road now runs down by the river. There was a mining and a blasting, until one might have expected Rören to come tumbling down. All sorts of officials came there, but the amtmand15 oftenest of all, for he was allowed double mileage. And now, one day while they were digging down among the rocks, some one went to pick up a stone, but got hold of a hand that was sticking out of the rocks, and so strong was this hand that it sent the man


<p>12</p>

Translated by Augusta Plesner and S. Rugeley-Powers.

<p>13</p>

A kind of road-sulky used by travelers in Norway.

<p>14</p>

Important announcements are made to the people in front of the church after service.

<p>15</p>

The chief magistrate of an amt or county.