Pelle the Conqueror, Vol. 4

ct of oblivion was in force only up to the threshold; the real thing he had to see to himself. The land he had tilled was in other h

institutions themselves would be won, and then they would of course come back to the starting-point and begin again quite differently. It might be rather convenient to turn out those who most hindered the advance, but would it lead t

out of it all, and had to choose his attitude toward the existing state of things; he had belonged to the world of outcasts and had stood face to face with the irreconcilable. He was not sure that the poor man was to be raised by an extension of the existing social ethics. He himself was still an o

. She must have patience! Pelle had promised himself that he would make her and the children

re continued to look uncertain. He needed to be the man, the breadwinner, so that Ellen could come to him for

low, bright and pushing, keenly alert with regard to everything in the way of business. Pelle saw in him the image of himself, and was only proud of him; but the boy did not look upon him with uncon

ttled by a good thrashing, but now things had to be arranged so that they would be lasting; he could no longer buy cheaply. When helping Lasse Frederik in organizing the milk- boys, he pocketed his pride and introduced features from the great co

erik rushed in. "Father, tell me what you did to get the men

e it if I did," said

he boy in tones of admiration. "And they had to put you in priso

ackened his face, and had gone right into the camp of his opponents, and nothing could have been finer. He positively had to defend

s set down, he instantly steered for Pelle; he would come crawling in right from the kitchen, and would not stop until he stood on his feet by Pelle's leg, looking up at him. "See how fond he is of you already!" said Ellen tenderly, as she put him down in the middle of the floor to try him. "Take him up!" Pelle obeyed mechanically; he had no personal feeling for this child; it

accusation. He had thoughtlessly trodden little Marie of the "Ark" underfoot, and she whom he had cast off when she most needed him, in return passed her beneficent hand over his wrong-doing. As though she were aware of his gloomy

d naturally. "You don't suppose he c

were so hunted and persecuted," she said quietly, "and you had no one to look to. So it had to happen like that. Marie told me all about it. It was no one's fault that she was not strong enough to bear childr

tly and naturally on Marie's fate; it brought it within the range of ordinary things for him too. Marie had come to her when she could no longer hide her condition, and Ellen had taken her in and kept her until she went to the lyi

and yet so child-like!" Elle

dandies turned to look when she went along the street to make her purchases. He had been anxious about her, alone and unprotected as she was; and yet it was he himself who had become the plunderer of the poor, defenceless girl. Why had he not carried his cross alone, instead of accepting the love of a being who gave herself to him in gratitu

could not be arranged! Pelle sometimes found it

erity!" This was a point on which Pelle had right upon his side! Morten must come to him if they were to have anything more to do w

had taken the responsibility upon himself now, and was going to begin by sacrificing his only fr

eemed to be a

t that he had suffered in his cell, when he stole away from his work and sat reading secretly-he felt as if there w

conscience! That was really at the bottom of it. He had intoxicated himself in the noise, and wanted to find something with which to drown

e as an author, and was often mentioned in the papers in connection with the lower classes. He l

his stern, furrowed face until the tears filled his eyes. "I say, how y

mily. "I've had good reason to, anyhow.

n't care about me, and the others I don't want. I thoug

erity, and that makes

son-why did you send my letter

d to the prisoner that he could hurt anybody, so you do me an

en ill the

; my brain reeled with trying to find out a really crushing revenge, and when I couldn't hit others I helped to carry out the punishment upon myself. There was always a satisfaction i

o could speak a comforting wor

post, pulled my shirt up over my head and gave me a thrashing. It sounds strange, but that did it; the manner of procedure was so brutal that everything in me was struck dumb. When such a thing as that could happen, there was nothing more to protest against. They put a wet sheet round me and I was lifted onto my pallet, so that was all right. For a week I had to lie on my face and

it, and the bones stood out sharply as in a dead face. He

But your lungs gasp at each stroke and your heart beats wildly; it's as if a thousand pincers were tearing all your fibers and nerves apart at once. My very entrails contracted in terror, and seemed ready to escape through my throat every time the lash fell. My lungs still burn when I think of it, and my heart will suddenly contract as if it would send the blood out through my throat.

the punishment?" Morten asked, as he wi

ble silence got upon my nerves, and I suppose I shouted to make a little life in th

etter anyhow for a kin

thinking of his

op off even the little bit of branch you're sitting on. Perhaps I should never have got into touch with life again if it hadn't been for the mice in my cell. I used to put crum

er room, and each time a nervous look came into Morten's face, and he glanced in annoyance at the closed door. Gradua

tting the door carefully behind him. Pelle heard low voices-Morten's admonishing, and a thin, r

out beneath him. Where he had once run about among wharves and coal-bunkers, there now stood a row of palatial buildings with a fine boulevard. And everything outside was new; a large working-men's district had sprung up where there had once been timber-yards or water. Below him engines were drawing rows of trucks fil

riptions. To all appearances he seemed to make his way in the world of books. Pelle took down some of Morten's own works, and turne

hand across his forehead. "Do stay a little while and we'll have

ur books," said Pelle enthusiastically. "What a

"If so, you've made some good friends in there, Pelle. All that there isn't wo

e Working Man car

," answered M

y write in the up

y food, at any rate! Our own press still has no use

ou to subordinate yourself to

have with my own side. My food I have to get from the other side of the boundary, and lay my eggs there: they're pretty hard conditions. You can't think how often I've worried over not being able to speak to my own people except in roundabout ways. Well, it doesn't matter! I ca

representations?" ask

e of culture. Sometimes they're almost too tolerant; you can't quite vouch for their words. When there'

o you

t's not real at all, at any rate not here at home.' But you always make a mark on some one or other, and little by little the food after all becomes bitter to their taste, I think. Per

left the fulfilment of the time of prosperity to you

re please

d Pelle slowly, "and unemployment s

tiplies every rise in wages by two, and puts it back on the workme

e being split up into two- the higher professions, which will be taken up into the upper classes; and the prolet

f the world, Pelle," said Morten sign

ered Pelle evasively, "and I've b

e great body of them, and have no actual connection-you know I'm really terribly lonely! Perhaps, though, I'

little while, and then s

y one and all believed in you blindly like children, and were capable of nothing when you gave up. Why, it's not you, but the others-the whole Movement- who've been imprisoned! How glad

embarrassment. It was Morten who was nominating him-the severe, incorrupt

ture than I can see, and so I'm working on myself. I study the books now-I got into the way of that in prison-and I must try to get a view out over the world. Something strange too has happened to me: I understand now what you meant when you said that man was holy! I'm no longer satisfied with

forward in the half-darkness, talking quietly. Neither of them noticed that the door to the other room had opened, and a tall, thin girl stood on the threshold gazing at them with dilated pupils. She was in her

ill had the call sounding in his ears, and gazed in amazement at the ghostly apparition. The delicate lines, spoiled by want, the expression of childlike terror of the dark- all this twofold picture of wanness stamped with the stamp of death, and of an unf

claimed reproachfully. He tried to make the girl go back into the other

clothes," she said to Pelle, gazing at him with her sunken eyes. "But I can easily run away in

d, Johanna!" said

said. You'll catch cold

by you." She was trembling with cold, but remained obstinately standing, and answered Morten's remonstrances with a

ath their silent gaze. She tossed her head and looked defiantly from the one to the other, her

do," said Pe

ered Morten hopelessly, "b

e must take her out to the pump." She instantly became quiet and let him carry her to bed. The fever was ra

face to the wall and stuffed the quilt into her mouth in order to hide it. She gradually became qui

t strong. "I've let myself in for something

or child?" ask

gger lads. I can get nothing out of her, but I've found out in other ways that she's lived among timber-stacks and in cellars for at least two years. The boys enticed dissolute men out there and sold her, taking most of the money themselves and giving her spirits to encourage her. From what I can make out there a

drink?" as

enuity when it's a case of getting hold of liquor. At first she couldn't eat hot food at all, she was

u get her int

hing, but she can't let it come out. I've tried getting her into a private family, where I knew they would be kind to her; but not many days had passed before they came and said she'd run away. For a couple of weeks she wandered about, and then came back again to me. Late one evening when I came home, I found her sitting wet and shivering in the dark corner outside my door. I was quite touched

le you?" asked P

ustomed to pay for every kindness with her weak body. Can't you imagine how dreadful it is to look into her wondering eyes? The doctor says she's been injured internally and is probably tuber

id, "but I must get to work; there's something I've got to finish this evening. You won't mind, will you? Co

the history of the poor thing. You know a lot of poor people, and must have come in some way or other into her life, f

e wide world of poverty to which he had drawn so close during the great lock-out, he