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"In a year or two you'll have the town spreading in this direction, and then it'll be worth at least twice as much." "Yes, that may be," said Pelle; "but you've both to get the amount and make it yield interest." Pelle did not like that. "There'll be need for your money in the business," he said. "Yes, yes!
The young master stood at the front door, peeping out, still in his leather jacket and apron of green baize; he was whistling softly to himself, and looked like a grown fledgling that did not dare to let itself tumble out of the nest. A whole world of amazement lay in his inquiring eyes. "Have you been to the harbor again, you young devil?" he asked, sinking his claws into Pelle. "Yes."
He took the Bible and flung it on the floor. "Satan take you, then!" he shouted, laying about him with the furniture. Pelle lay bathed in sweat, listening to this demoniac struggle; and it was with a feeling of relief that he heard Strom open the window and drive the devils out over the roofs. The diver fought the last part of the battle with a certain humor.
He was perspiring freely, and did not look entirely satisfied. The next scene which was conjured up on the stage was a forest. It was wonderfully fine, with pelargoniums blooming on the ground, and a spring which was flowing out of something green. "That is a covered beer-barrel!" said Pelle, and now Lasse too could see the tap, but it was wonderfully natural.
"I will work for us both you shall be comfortable and enjoy your old days!" Pelle saw light in the distance. Lasse shook his head. "I can no longer put things away from me I can no longer leave them behind and go on again!" "I propose that we go into the town," said Sort. "Up by the church we are sure to find some one who will drive us in." They collected their things and set off.
He worked independently; there was scarcely his match in individual cases of need or injustice; and he was always laboring to make people think for themselves. And they loved him. They looked up to Pelle and the rest, and made way for them with shining eyes; but they smilingly put themselves in Morten's way. They wanted to press his hand he could scarcely make his way to the speaker's platform.
They were all like so many mysteries, with trap-doors that led down to pitch-dark, underground beet and potato cellars, from which, of course, you could get by secret passages to the strangest places underground, and other trap-doors that led up to dark lofts, where the most wonderful treasures were preserved in the form of old lumber. But Pelle unfortunately had little time to go into all this.
"But you'll beggar yourself," said Sort. "They've done that already. Let them have their way. But they'll have to answer for it in the end!" Then Pelle procured a cart, and drove over himself to fetch them. There was quite a load to bring back. Mother Bengta's green chest he found upstairs in the attic; it was full of balls of thread.
Will you, father?" she continued inexorably, looking at him. "Yes, yes!" said Ellen desperately, kissing her lips to make her stop talking. The child turned over contentedly, and in another moment she was asleep. "She's not hot now," whispered Pelle. "I think the fever's gone." His face was very grave.
He lay nibbling and swallowing while he read, and never looked at Lasse and Pelle, or asked them what they wanted, or said anything to give them a start. It was like being sent out to plough without knowing where. He must have been in the middle of something very exciting. "Well, what do you want?" asked Kongstrup at last in slow tones.
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