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She caught a glance from the sharp, defiant grey eyes then out of the blockmaker's hands, out of the gate, and he was gone! The blows on Ludvig's nose had gone to Barbara's heart. But when she heard that Nikolai had run away from the Holmans' and that there was some talk of getting him into an institute for morally depraved children, there was crying and weeping.
But he should go to the blockmaker's, poor boy! Her name wasn't Barbara if she didn't get her mistress to see to that at once as early as to-morrow. She returned home with a face red and swollen with crying, and was inconsolable the whole evening until her mistress came down from the office with the promise that the matter should be arranged.
"You shall be made to bend soon enough, if that's what you want. Father shall be told, this very day, that you are the leader of the street cads in the town; and if no one else will tell your mother about it, I'll tell her myself, however much she cries!" "Do you want to have your ostrich-beak pulled?" "You'd better try it on! Perhaps you don't know that we pay for you at the blockmaker's.
Where else would Nikolai be than under the old carriage hood that stood in the loft over the coach-house, mouldy and dropping to pieces with its opening towards the wall? It was in the light of this idea that he rushed out. Nikolai never felt the blockmaker's hand; he still slept on happily, as it lifted him up by the coat collar.
If the forge-yard was one point that he preferred to keep away from, there were also other places in the town that he made a round to avoid namely, that part of the quay where the blockmaker's workshop lay, and the Holmans' house up in the square. Whatever the reason might be, he had no wish to meet Silla.
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