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Forgive me if I have angered you. I shall not come here again. The old man felt the teardrops on his face, the heavy woman's tears, hot with anger and sorrow. Gudrun dashed out of the room and mounted. Brandur was left alone in the darkness at mid-day. Yet in his mind's eye he could see the haystack out on the knoll. He rose and went out to feel it. It was still there.
Brandur turned pale and the lines in his face became hard and rigid. Looking at him, Gudrun knew from experience that he was not to be shaken in his determination when in this mood. His face was like a sky over the wilderness streaked with threatening storm clouds. Gudrun gave up. The tears rushed to her eyes, as she twined her arms around her father's neck and said: Goodbye, papa.
Nothing but the general hard times and hay shortage. Every farmer at the end of his tether, or almost there, no one with as much as a wisp of hay to spare, and only a few likely to make out till Crouchmas without aid. Too bad! said Brandur. Too bad! And he blew out his breath, as though suffocating from strong smoke or bad air.
Meanwhile, holding the reins, Jon stood there gazing at the hay and making a mental estimate of it. Then he turned to his father-in-law and spoke: The purpose of my visit to you, my dear Brandur, is to ask that you let us have this hay this fine old hay that you have here. The District Council will, of course, pay you; the parish will guarantee payment. We have discussed that matter fully.
His love of it seemed to have died the moment he granted his son-in-law permission to take it away. That spring Brandur gave up housekeeping and of his own volition turned over the farm to his daughter and son-in-law. With them he lived to enjoy many years of good health. Never again did he take his daily walk out to the haystack to feel the hay.
By the time the events narrated here transpired, Brandur had grown prosperous and very old old in years and old in ways. The neighbours thought he must have money hidden away somewhere. But no one knew anything definitely, for Brandur had always been reserved and uncommunicative, and permitted no prying in his house or on his possessions.
The time is coming when you will have to part with it. Then it will be used as the needs require. And what good will it do you? What are you going to do with it? I am going to keep it, answered Brandur. I intend to keep it right here on the knoll, keep it in case the haying should be poor next summer.
Brandur's son-in-law Jon was made chairman of the meeting. During the discussion it was brought to light that many of the flocks would die of hunger unless 'God Almighty vouchsafed a turn in the weather very soon', or Old Brandur could be induced to part with his old hay. That stack would help, if properly divided among those who were in greatest need.
Meanwhile, Brandur roamed through the house all day long, asking if anyone had come. Aren't they going to take away these miserable hay scraps? About time they came and got them! He seemed eager that the hay be removed at once. That day he did not take his usual walk out to the stack to feel the hay. In fact, after that no one ever saw him show attachment to the old hay.
When Jon ceased speaking, Brandur blew the air from his mouth in great puffs, as though deeply stabbed by a sharp pain in the heart. For a while he held his peace. Then he spoke: Not another word! Not another word! What's this I hear? My hay for the district? My hay to supply all the farmers in the district?
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