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Updated: May 13, 2025
The police keep him in a perpetual state of inflammation. He can't have any pleasure in life." Pelle was always hoping that Peter Dreyer would acquire a calmer view of life. It was his intention to start a cooperative business in the course of the spring at Aarhus too, and Peter was appointed to start it.
In any case he could not give them food to-day, and he had grown out of the use of strong language. "Go up and say something nice to them! Don't you see how starved they are?" said Peter Dreyer, one evening. "They still have confidence in you from old days. But don't preach cooperation; you don't feed hungry men with music of the future." "Do you give them food then?" asked Pelle.
"Peter Dreyer is dead!" he said in a voice that was heard by every one. Whispers passed through the crowd, and they looked questioningly at one another as though they had not heard correctly. He saw from their expression how much would go to pieces in their lives when they believed it. "It's a lie!" suddenly cried a voice, relieving the tension.
If we were, the future would not be ours." "Are you scoffing at Peter Dreyer?" asked a sullen voice. "No, I am not. Peter Dreyer was one of those who go on in advance, and smear the stones on the road with their hearts' blood, so that the rest of us may find our way. But you've no right to compare yourselves with him. He sank under the weight of a tremendous responsibility; and what are you doing?
The first man he applied to was Peter Dreyer. Ellen advised him not to do so. "You know he's on bad terms with the police," she said. "You may have difficulties enough without that."
Brun had no objection to making a little more war to the knife. There was too little happening for his taste! The new business opened in October. Pelle would have had Peter Dreyer to be at the head of it, but he refused. "I'm sure I'm not suited for buying and selling," he said gloomily, so Pelle took one of the young workmen from the workshop into the business, and kept an eye upon it himself.
"Peter Dreyer is dead!" he said in a voice that was heard by every one. Whispers passed through the crowd, and they looked questioningly at one another as though they had not heard correctly. He saw from their expression how much would go to pieces in their lives when they believed it. "It's a lie!" suddenly cried a voice, relieving the tension.
"When Karl was gone and Pelle was about to go in to Brun in the office, he caught sight of a small, somewhat deformed woman with a child, walking to and fro above the workshop windows, and taking stolen glances down. They timidly made way for people passing, and looked very frightened. Pelle called them into the shop. "Do you want to speak to Peter Dreyer?" he asked. The woman nodded.
For a moment all the life in the crowd seemed to be petrified by the pitiless truth, and he saw how they had loved Peter Dreyer. Then they began to make an uproar, shouting that they would go and speak to the police, and some even turned to go. "Silence, people!" cried Pelle in a loud voice. "Are you grown men and yet will get up a row beside the dead body of a comrade?"
She had a refined face with large, sorrowful eyes. "If it won't disturb him," she said. Pelle called Peter Dreyer and then went into the office, where he found Brun had fallen asleep. He heard them whispering in the shop. Peter was angry, and the woman and the child cried; he could hear it in the tones of their whisper. It did not last more than a minute, and then Peter let them out.
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