"No; the train doesn't go till quarter to eight!"
"What idiot told you that?"
That he could not say, as it was his mother-in-law.
"Well, hurry on to the station and see when the next train goes."
As the Norwegian hesitated, there came a sharp "Now!" like the crack of a whip over a horse. It was quite clear to him what he had to do now; he pressed his mother-in-law's hand and went. His firm steps must have shown that they were the opposite to those leading to the lion's cave,[2] going out and away but never returning, for he heard immediately the old man's voice in a caressing, lamenting tone: "Axel!"
It felt like a stab in the departer's breast, but he had begun to move, and went on without looking round.
He went down to the station, looked ostensibly at the railway guide, asked about the next train without listening to the answer, saw by the position of the sun which direction was north-east, and struck into the nearest highway. He did this all so quietly, as though he had long considered the plan. Soon he found himself out in the country, alone without a home, without baggage, without an overcoat, and nothing but a walking-stick in his hand. He felt angry with no one; his father-in-law was right, and his last call sounded like an appeal for forgiveness for his bad temper. Yes, he only felt guilty with regard to this man, on whom he had brought shame and sorrow. But in himself he felt innocent, for he had only acted according to his obligations and possibilities.
Meanwhile he was free and had left the worst hell behind him; the sun shone, the landscape lay green and open, he had the whole world before him. He shook off the child's clothes which he had worn for eight days, felt himself a man again, and marched on. His plan was to reach a certain place on foot; there to take a steamer, to telegraph for his baggage and so to travel to Copenhagen.
"The affair is really ludicrous," he said to himself; "if it were not tragic for the old people. It looks bad, but I have survived worse things. I am a tramp! Very good! Then all claims to honour and respect have ceased. It is soothing at all events to have nothing more to lose. Hurrah!"
He marched into the next village like an old soldier and ordered wine and tobacco. He felt hilarious, and chatted with the innkeeper. Then he went on again. But at intervals he became sentimental; thought of his mother-in-law's words about the wild chase; had to admit that there was something uncanny about it, for he had never yet experienced such a misfortune; and if other people noticed it, it could not be mere imagination. But that was nothing strange, for he had had bad luck ever since he was a child. But fancy placing a man in such a position! He would not even have treated an enemy with such hellish cruelty.