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Updated: April 30, 2025
Kongstrup was lying on the sofa reading a magazine, and on the table beside him stood a pile of old magazines and a plateful of little cakes. He did not raise his eyes from his book, not even while his hand went out to the plate for something to put in his mouth.
Lasse felt himself to be the man of the company, and was not afraid of giving a hit at any one. "Hans Peter is fifteen," said Kongstrup reprovingly, "and passion rages in his heart." He said this with such comical gravity that they all burst into laughter, except Gustav, who sat blinking his eyes and nodding his head like a drunken man. "You shall hear what he says. This lay upon his bed."
So he went about boasting that I'd run away from home for his sake, and the other thing that was a lie; so they all thought they could do what they liked with me. Kongstrup was just married then, but he was no better than the others. I'd got the place quite by chance, because the other housemaid had had to go away somewhere to lie in; so I was awfully careful.
Kongstrup wanted to send me away when I told him about it; but that I would not have. I meant to stay and have my child born here on the farm to which it belonged. He didn't care a bit about me any longer, the mistress looked at me with her evil eyes every day, and there was no one that was kind to me. I wasn't so hard then as I am now, and it was all I could do to keep from crying always.
"Oh, you wives always take one another's part," said Kalle, "but other people have eyes too. What do you say, grandmother? You know that better than any one else." "Well, I know something about it at any rate," said the old woman. "I remember the time when Kongstrup came to the island as well as if it had been yesterday.
Out in the shelter of the gable-wall of the House sat Kongstrup, well wrapped up, and gazing straight before him with expressionless eyes. The winter sun shone full upon him; it had lured forth signs of spring, and the sparrows were hopping gaily about him.
Kongstrup was not at home, but the mistress herself was down there, wringing her hands and cursing Stone Farm her own childhood's home! Stone Farm had become a hell with its murder and debauchery! she said, without caring that they were all standing round her and heard every word.
There was as much thought and said about Kongstrup and his wife as about all the rest of the parish put together; they were bread to so many, their Providence both in evil and good, that nothing that they did could be immaterial.
Kongstrup gave a little grunt, that might have meant yes, or no, or nothing at all. "And what about you two? Are you in need of money?" "No, it's the lad. He's to be dismissed from the confirmation- class," answered Lasse simply. With the mistress you couldn't help being decided. "Are you to be dismissed?" she exclaimed, looking at Pelle as at an old acquaintance. "Then what have you been doing?"
Then the farmer turned round in his chair, and drew him toward him by the collar. "Now let's see what you've got there under your smock, my little man!" he said kindly. "It's brandy," said Pelle, drawing forth the bottle. "The mistress said I wasn't to let any one see it." "You're a clever boy," said Kongstrup, patting him on the cheek. "You'll get on in the world one of these days.
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