He was an affable gentleman, and soon set them all at their ease. He sat down in the seat of honour, drumming with his fingers on the table, and talking easily as if quite at home. One of the girls had been in service for a while in a Consul's family in the town, and knew the ways of gentlefolk, and she fetched a bowl of milk and offered it with a curtsy and a: "Will the Captain please to take some milk?" "Thanks, thanks,"

said the visitor. "And what is your name, my dear? Come, there's nothing to blush about. Nicoline? First-rate! And you? Lusiana? That's right."

He looked at the red-rimmed basin, and, taking it up, all but emptied it at a draught, then, wiping his beard, took breath. "Phu!--that was good.

Well, so here I am." And he looked around the room and at each of them in turn, and smiled, and drummed with his fingers, and said, "Well, well--well, well," and seemed much amused with everything in general.

"By the way, Nicoline," he said suddenly, "since you're so well up in t.i.tles, I'm not 'Captain' any more now; they've sent me up this way as Lieutenant-Colonel, and my wife has just had a house left her in your town here, so we may be coming to settle down in these parts. And perhaps you'd better send letters to me through a friend in future. But we can talk about all that by and by. Well, well--well, well." And all the time he was drumming with his fingers on the table and smiling. Peer noticed that he wore gold sleeve-links and a fine gold stud in his broad white shirt-front.

And then a little packet was produced. "Hi, Peer, come and look; here's something for you." And the "something" was nothing less than a real silver watch--and Peer was quite unhappy for the moment because he couldn't dash off at once and show it to all the other boys. "There's a father for you," said the old wife, clapping her hands, and almost in tears. But the visitor patted her on the shoulder. "Father? father?

H'm--that's not a thing any one can be so sure about. Hahaha!" And "hahaha" echoed the old man, still sitting with the awl in his hand.

This was the sort of joke he could appreciate.

Then the visitor went out and strolled about the place, with his hands under his coat tails, and looked at the sky, and the fjord, and murmured, "Well, well--well, well," and Peer followed him about all the while, and gazed at him as he might have gazed at a star. He was to sleep in a neighbour's house, where there was a room that had a bed with sheets on it, and Peer went across with him and carried his bag. It was Martin Bruvold's parents who were to house the traveller, and people stood round staring at the place. Martin himself was waiting outside.

"This a friend of yours, Peer? Here, then, my boy, here's something to buy a big farm with." This time it was a five-crown note, and Martin stood fingering it, hardly able to believe his eyes. Peer's father was something like a father.

It was a fine thing, too, to see a grand gentleman undress. "I'll have things like that some day," thought Peer, watching each new wonder that came out of the bag. There was a silver-backed brush, that he brushed his hair and beard with, walking up and down in his underclothes and humming to himself. And then there was another shirt, with red stripes round the collar, just to wear in bed. Peer nodded to himself, taking it all in. And when the stranger was in bed he took out a flask with a silver cork, that screwed off and turned into a cup, and had a dram for a nightcap; and then he reached for a long pipe with a beaded cord, and when it was drawing well he stretched himself out comfortably and smiled at Peer.

"Well, now, my boy--are you getting on well at school?"

Peer put his hands behind him and set one foot forward. "Yes--he says so--teacher does."

"How much is twelve times twelve?"

That was a stumper! Peer hadn't got beyond ten times ten.

"Do they teach you gymnastics at the school?"

"Gym--? What's that?"

"Jumping and vaulting and climbing ropes and drilling in squads--what?"

"But isn't it--isn't that wicked?"

"Wicked! Hahaha! Wicked, did you say? So that's the way they look at things here, is it? Well, well--well, well! Hahaha! Hand me that matchbox, my boy. H'm!" He puffed away for a while in silence. Then, suddenly:

"See here, boy. Did you know you'd a little sister?"

"Yes, I know."

"Half-sister, that is to say. I didn't quite know how it was myself. But I may as well tell you, my boy, that I paid the same for you all along, the same as now. Only I sent the money by your mother, and she--well, she, poor girl, had another one to look after, and no father to pay for it. So she made my money do for both. Hahaha! Well, poor girl, we can't blame her for that. Anyhow, we'll have to look after that little half-sister of yours now, I suppose, till she grows up. Don't you think so yourself?"

Peer felt the tears coming. Think so!--indeed he did.

Next day Peer's father went away. He stood there, ready to start, in the living-room at Troen, stiff felt hat and overcoat and all, and said, in a tone like the sheriff's when he gives out a public notice at the church door:

"And, by the way, you're to have the boy confirmed this year."

"Yes, to be sure we will," the old mother hastened to say.

"Then I wish him to be properly dressed, like the best of the other youngsters. And there's fifty crowns for him to give the school-teacher and the parson as a parting gift." He handed over some more notes.

"Afterwards," he went on, "I mean, of course, to look after him until he can make his own way in a respectable position. But first we must see what he has a turn for, and what he'd like to be himself. He'd better come to town and talk it over with me--but I'll write and arrange all that after he's confirmed. Then in case anything unexpected should happen to me, there's some money laid by for him in a savings bank account; he can apply to a friend of mine, who knows all about it. Well, good-bye, and very many thanks!"

And the great man smiled to right and left, and shook them all by the hand, and waved his hat and was gone.

For the next few days Peer walked on air, and found it hard to keep his footing at all on the common earth. People were for ever filling his head with talk about that savings bank account--it might be only a few thousands of crowns--but then again, it might run up to a million. A million! and here he was, eating herrings for dinner, and talking to Tom, d.i.c.k, and Harry just like any one else. A million crowns!

Late in the autumn came the confirmation, and the old wooden church, with its tarred walls, nestled among its mighty tree-tops, sent its chimes ringing and ringing out into the blue autumn air. It seemed to Peer like some kindly old grandmother, calling so lovingly: "Come, come--old and young--old and young--from fjord and valley--northways and southways; come, come--this day of all days--this day of all days--come, come, come!" So it had stood, ringing out the chimes for one generation after another through hundreds of years, and now it is calling to us.

And the young folks are there, looking at one another in their new clothes, and blowing their noses on clean white handkerchiefs, so carefully folded. There comes Peter Ronningen, pa.s.sed by good luck this year, but forced to turn out in a jacket borrowed from Peer, as the tailor wasn't ready with his own new things. The boys say "how-do-you-do" and try to smile like grown-up folks. One or two of them may have some little account dating from old school-fights waiting to be settled--but, never mind--just as well to forget old scores now. Peer caught sight of Johan Koja, who stole a pencil from him last summer, but, after all, even that didn't seem worth making a fuss about. "Well, how've you been getting on since last summer?" they ask each other, as they move together up the stone steps to the big church door, through which the peal of the organ comes rolling out to meet them.

How good it seems, and how kind, the little church, where all you see bids you welcome! Through the stained-gla.s.s windows with their tiny leaded panes falls a light so soft that even poor ugly faces seem beautiful. The organ tones are the very light itself turned into sweet sound. On one side of the nave you can see all the boys' heads, sleek with water; on the other the little mothers to be, in grown-up dress to-day for the first time, kerchief on head and hymn-book in hand, and with careful faces. And now they all sing. The elder folks have taken their places farther back to-day, but they join in, looking up now and again from the book to those young heads in front, and wondering how they will fare in life. And the young folk themselves are thinking as they sing, "To-day is the beginning of new things. Play and frolic are over and done with; from today we're grown-up." But the church and all in it seemed to say: "If ever you are in heavy trouble, come hither to me." Just look at that altar-piece there--the wood-carvings are a whole Bible in themselves--but Moses with the Tables of the Law is gentle of face to-day; you can see he means no harm after all. St. Peter, with the keys, pointing upwards, looks like a kind old uncle, bringing something good home from market. And then the angels on the walls, pictured or carved in wood, have borrowed the voice of the organ and the tones of the hymn, and they widen out the vaulted roof into the dome of heaven; while light and song and worshippers melt together and soar upwards toward the infinite s.p.a.ces.

Peer was thinking all the time: I don't care if I'm rich as rich, I WILL be a priest. And then perhaps with all my money I can build a church that no one ever saw the like of. And the first couple I'll marry there shall be Martin Bruvold and little sister Louise--if only he'll have her. Just wait and see!

A few days later he wrote to his father, asking if he might come into town now and go to school. A long time pa.s.sed, and then at last a letter came in a strange hand-writing, and all the grown folks at Troen came together again to read it. But what was their amazement when they read:

"You will possibly have learned by now from the newspapers that your benefactor, Colonel Holm, has met his death by a fall from a horse. I must therefore request you to call on me personally at your earliest convenience, as I have several matters to settle with you. Yours faithfully, J. Grundt, Senior Master."

They stood and looked at one another.

Peer was crying--chiefly, it must be admitted, at the thought of having to bid good-bye to all the Troen folks and the two cows, and the calf, and the grey cat. He might have to go right on to Christiania, no later than to-morrow--to go to school there; and when he came back--why, very likely the old mother might not be there any more.

So all three of them were heavy-hearted, when the pock-marked good-wife, and the bow-legged old man, came down with him to the pier. And soon he was standing on the deck of the fjord steamer, gazing at the two figures growing smaller and smaller on the sh.o.r.e. And then one hut after another in the little hamlet disappeared behind the ness--Troen itself was gone now--and the hills and the woods where he had cut ring staves and searched for stray cattle--swiftly all known things drew away and vanished, until at last the whole parish was gone, and his childhood over.

Chapter III

As evening fell, he saw a mult.i.tude of lights spread out on every side far ahead in the darkness. And next, with his little wooden chest on his shoulder, he was finding his way up through the streets by the quay to a lodging-house for country folk, which he knew from former visits, when he had come to the town with the Lofoten boats.

Next morning, clad in his country homespun, he marched up along River Street, over the bridge, and up the hill to the villa quarter, where he had to ask the way. At last he arrived outside a white-painted wooden house standing back in a garden. Here was the place--the place where his fate was to be decided. After the country fashion he walked in at the kitchen door.

A stout servant maid in a big white ap.r.o.n was rattling the rings of the kitchen range into place; there was a pleasing smell of coffee and good things to eat. Suddenly a door opened, and a figure in a dressing-gown appeared--a tall red-haired man with gold spectacles astride on a long red nose, his thick hair and scrubby little moustaches touched with grey. He gasped once or twice and then started sneezing--hoc-hoc-put-putsch!--wiped his nose with a large pocket-handkerchief, and grumbled out: "Ugh!--this wretched cold--can't get rid of it. How about my socks, Bertha, my good girl; do you think they are quite dry now?"

"I've had them hung up ever since I lit the fire this morning," said the girl, tossing her head.

"But who is this young gentleman, may I ask?" The gold spectacles were turned full on Peer, who rose and bowed.

"Said he wanted to speak to you, sir," put in the maid.

"Ah. From the country, I see. Have you anything to sell, my lad?"

"No," said Peer. He had had a letter. . . .

The red head seemed positively frightened at this--and the dressing-gown faltered backwards, as if to find support. He cast a hurried glance at the girl, and then beckoned with a long fore-finger to Peer. "Yes, yes, perfectly so. Be so good as to come this way, my lad."

Peer found himself in a room with rows of books all round the walls, and a big writing-table in the centre. "Sit down, my boy." The schoolmaster went and picked out a long pipe, and filled it, clearing his throat nervously, with an occasional glance at the boy. "H'm--so this is you.

This is Peer--h'm." He lit his pipe and puffed a little, found himself again obliged to sneeze--but at last settled down in a chair at the writing-table, stretched out his long legs, and puffed away again.

"So that's what you look like?" With a quick movement he reached for a photograph in a frame. Peer caught a glimpse of his father in uniform.