In God's Way: A Novel

by Bjørnstjerne Bjørnson

Behind the excessive goodness of his heart, all the breadth and strength of his nature became evident; she felt this. It moved her deeply. She heard him wandering up and down in his study, restless, but with a set purpose. She could not sleep.

The day after Kristen Larssen had become aware of the nature of his disease, he committed suicide. It shocked people dreadfully; he haunted the place; hardly anyone dare pass the house. A rumor got abroad that Kallem had lent Larssen his revolver for this purpose; but it was put an end to by his wife, by Sören Pedersen, and by Kallem's own testimony.

Kristen Larssen had retired from this world without warning and without thanks. He had said to his wife that sudden death would be best. But neither had they come to any mutual agreement or reckoning, nor had they taken leave of each other. He had begged her to go and fetch Sören Pedersen, and whilst she was away, had crept out of bed and, with his usual cold-bloodedness, had done the deed.

The regular funeral rites were refused to him; a corner by the north wall was selected, and three men worked hard to get a grave dug. The funeral day was unusually cold; some there were who fancied they saw the finger of God in that too. At quite an unusual hour, namely in the afternoon, Kristen Larssen was lowered into his grave without the toll of a bell, without priest or psalm. The most remarkable among the few people who were present was Aune, for he was drunk and fussing about everywhere--so thinly clad that it made one shiver to look at the poor wretch, blue with cold. Sören Pedersen told him several times to keep quiet; but to no avail. The only visible part of Sören's shining face was his nose, eyes, and a bit of the cheeks; all the rest was covered by a huge woollen comforter, wound round and round, and by a fur cap drawn well down to the eyes; his great big hands were in a pair of huge woollen gloves, of the kind that fishermen use for rowing; and his feet were in fur boots. Sören Pedersen had grown rather stout, his greatcoat was somewhat too tight; he looked like a lobster with all these excrescences; Aase, in a little cloak and hood, kept by the side of the widow, who stood there tall and thin, in Laplander shoes and loose ample dress, as wide at the top as at the bottom; she wore a heavy woollen shawl over her head; she evidently wished to conceal her face. Aune slouched round to tell her that he had been "to the station with her luggage." And now "he had shut up the house; he had the key in his pocket;" he took it out and showed it. The poor widow was to go direct from here to the station, and stay with some of her relations who lived at a few miles distance; and later, go on to her native town. Besides these four there were two of the sextons present; one of them stood with short coat and mittens, leaning on his spade, incessantly chewing tobacco; the other was almost covered by a brown beard, crook-backed, and dim-eyed.

There was a tightly packed snow-drift under the wall; Karl Meek and Ragni came along together and got up on to the snow-drift. They were all waiting for Kallem, who had been detained, but now came along at full speed. He took off his cap to the widow, and was greeted by the others as he went up to the grave. He wished to say a few words, but waited to see if nothing else would happen. As nothing did happen, he said:

"I am not acquainted with the past life of the man we are about to bury; neither did I know him well personally. He had different religious convictions to those of the people he lived amongst, and he has been punished for them. His and his wife's object in life was to be able to go to free America." (At the word America there was a general movement amongst the handkerchiefs.) "He tried to teach himself English; for him it would have been like getting wings.

"But having said this much, and when I add that he was the cleverest man I have met with here, I have said about all I know of him.

"Therefore I cannot join in judging him. I often had the impression, whilst we sat together, that he was always cold. The cold around him had chilled him to the bone.

"It so happens that only we five or six people are here to take a last farewell of him. Yet all those who benefited by his ingenious work, most particularly those whose life has been eased by his clever inventions, thereby affording them greater enjoyment--all those owe him thanks, which I am here to express."

A deep stillness ensued; one could hear the snow creak when anyone moved; but no one attempted to leave. At last Aune reeled forwards to the edge of the grave. "Well, at least I will thank you for the violin! Oh--and the forgiveness of sins, oh, oh, fare thee well!"--within an ace he had fallen into the grave. In great disgust Sören Pedersen seized him by the arm, turned to his wife, and said: "Dearest Aase, you say the Lord's Prayer so beautifully; let us have it!" And she stepped forward, pulled off her mittens, and folded her hands. The men took off their caps and bowed their heads; and then Aase repeated the Lord's Prayer.