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"That I don't know, and it's all the same to me only it must be something I don't know all about. Everything is so familiar if one is poor one knows every stitch of one's clothes by heart; one can watch them wearing out. If you'd only been a sailor, Pelle!" "Have you seen him again?" asked Pelle. Hanne laughingly shook her head. "No; but I believe something will happen something splendid.
On the borders of the wood, a few men were standing and singing in chorus; they wore white caps, and over the grassy meadows merry groups were strolling or playing touch or rolling in the grass like young kittens. Madam Johnsen walked confidently a few steps in advance; she was the most at home out here and led the way. Pelle and Hanne walked close together, in order to converse.
She always wound up by lamenting the change in Hanne; the old woman felt that the girl had forsaken her. "Can you understand what's the matter with her, Pelle? She goes about as if she were asleep, and to everything I say she answers nothing but 'Yes, mother; yes, mother! I could cry, it sounds so strange and empty, like a voice from the grave.
"Eat!" said Hanne, standing over them and looking on with glowing eyes. Her cheeks were burning. "You look like a flower in the cold!" said her mother. "But eat, yourself, or you'll starve to death." No, Hanne would not eat. "I feel so light," she said, "I don't need any food."
"That little maid is over much with old Hanne," he said, as if he meditated to himself; "she will teach her other prickings than the needle-play. The witch-pricking at the images of wax was what brought her here. Aye, and had it not been for your father wanting a house-keeper, the Holy Office would have burned the hag, and sent her to hell, flaming like a torch of pine knots."
She sat there turning her head about; she gazed at him smiling, her head thrown back and her mouth open. The light fell on her white teeth. "Shall we get fine weather to-morrow?" asked the mother. Pelle thought they would; he gazed up at the little speck of sky in a weather-wise manner. Hanne laughed. "Are you a weather-prophet, Pelle? But you haven't any corns!"
Out there lies a great ship I can see it from the window. It's full of wonderful things, Pelle." "You are crazy!" said Pelle scornfully. "That's a bark bound for the coal quay. She comes from England with coals." "That may well be," replied Hanne indifferently. "I don't mind that.
Hanne ran down the steps and across the yard and out into the street. The ground was hard and ringing in the frost, the cold was angry and biting, but the road seemed to burn Hanne through her thin shoes. She ran through the market, across the bridge, and into the less crowded quarter of the city-right into Pelle's arms. He was just going to see Father Lasse.
"She shouldn't drive me too far," he thought, "or perhaps it'll end in my seizing her, and then she'll have her fingers burnt!" "Why don't you talk to me, Pelle?" said Hanne. He raised his head and looked at her in the mirror. She was holding the end of her plait in her mouth, and looked like a kitten biting its tail. "Oh, what should I talk about?" he replied morosely.
They had forgotten everything, and were all admiration. But Hanne stood staring with horror, and suddenly burst into sobs. "Come, come, Hanne!" said her mother, clapping her on the back. "You have bought a dress for yourself that's not so dreadful! Youth will have its rights." "No, mother, no, I didn't buy it at all!
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