The uneasiness of dissatisfaction gnawed his mind like hunger. He was displeased with himself and also with Leif, but more with himself. He was, after all, the elder, and was responsible for them both. Also he felt seriously anxious for Leif. Leif did not know any path through the wood. He had once ventured into it, and lost himself. And if he lost himself in the wood in this cold he would be frozen to death, unless, indeed, the wolves attacked him.
Ingolf was in despair. He asked himself whether it were yet any use to ride after Leif? But now it was too late. He felt a lump rise in his throat. Remorse came over him like an avalanche. He had to defend himself in order not to be utterly overwhelmed. As far as Leif was concerned, it was his own fault. It was he who actually would ride over the heath. It was he who, in spite of reason, made for the wood. If he were frozen to death, or eaten by wolves, he only had himself to thank. But Ingolf soon discovered that these thoughts did not yield him any comfort. In the first place, he was not sure that the fault was really Leif's. He ought not to have allowed himself to be persuaded to ride across the heath, and, by doing so, break his word. Neither ought he to have become angry with Leif because he had allowed himself to be persuaded. Least of all should he have let Leif observe his anger. For that was what had driven him to the wood. He knew Leif, and how susceptible he was. Treated in the right way, he was not unreasonable. By means of good-humour and friendly talk one could turn Leif's mind from or in any desired direction. But if he saw that any one was angry or embittered against him, immediately he became twice as angry himself. And all sound sense forsook him as soon as he became irritated.
And another thing: even if the fault was Leif's, that did not make the matter really better. There was, in fact, no satisfaction in being in the right as against Leif. Leif's whole character was so made up of hastiness and want of sense that nothing was easier than to be in the right against him. But that was not the least relief to his mind. Leif was not one of those to be settled with in that way. Even if there was not the least doubt that one was in the right, there always remained something unsettled when Leif was in question. Ingolf rode on. He forgot to pay any attention to the direction of the wind or the light of the moon. An absorbing consciousness of having done wrong, and of remorse, which continually increased, gnawed his mind and destroyed his peace. He could not shake off the thought of Leif. How was he now? How would he fare? He tried to persuade himself that Leif must really know a path through the wood, and might be home before him. Ah, how he wished that he might find Leif's horse in the stable when he himself at last reached home!
But he knew well that this was only something he wished to believe. Leif's voice was so sincere that it betrayed him when he lied. Leif was a stupid boy. Ah, Leif! Leif!
Ingolf struggled hard to keep his tears back. He had not the least idea what to do. What should he do? He was riding here, and had lost his best friend. And it was his own fault. Even if he found Leif at home they would not be friends any more. And Leif, like himself, as far back as he could remember, could not do without him. He did not understand it all. He did not comprehend how it could happen. Yesterday, nay, only a little while since, they had been friends. Now he was riding alone in the night and the snowstorm, and Leif was lost in the wood. Leif had left him because he could not overcome himself sufficiently to keep with him longer—Leif, who this morning would have sacrificed everything for him, and given his life for him, yes, ten lives if he had possessed so many. He did not know any one else of whom he could safely say the same. Half his strength had lain in the consciousness that Leif was his friend for life and death; that he had, so to speak, two lives. He was himself also prepared to die for his friend. All the same, a sudden misunderstanding and a few words had parted them. For the first time Ingolf realized the dangerous power of anger and evil words. And he made a vow never again to be angry, and never again to speak evil words to a friend. It had a certain soothing effect upon him, thus to take himself to task, to acknowledge his failing, and resolve to overcome it.
But this was of no help with regard to Leif. There could not be the least doubt now that Leif was roaming about lost in the wood. It was hopeless to expect that he should have given up his purpose. It could never occur to him to be so reasonable as to follow the edge of the wood. For Leif knew nothing of fear or even caution, bold to the point of madness, daring to folly as he was. Yes, Leif was by no means merely a mocker of the gods or a practical joker. He was as fearless and brave as any one whom Ingolf knew. That was what forced one to love him, and feel that he was indispensable in spite of all his failings and the difficulties he caused. That was also the reason why Helga liked him so much, and became restless and lost her balance as soon as she did not see him, but immediately became quiet and peaceful when she knew he was near. How should Ingolf look his sister, Helga, in the eyes when he came home without Leif?
Ingolf rode on. He no longer knew where he was going, and felt indifferent. Without Leif he could, at any rate, not go home. He could not get Leif out of his mind.
Leif was in every way difficult and unaccountable. There was no use denying it. As far back as Ingolf could remember at all, he had had incredible difficulties with Leif. All the troubles he remembered to have had, had been caused by him. Numberless times, Helga had been obliged to appease greater or smaller quarrels between them. For Leif was really impossible as a comrade. One never knew what to expect of him, or what he might devise. There was no feeling secure in Leif's society; he always brought, as it were, changes and adventures with him. But such as he was, one could not do without him. In spite of his difficult character he was such that one missed him as soon as he was out of sight.
Ingolf noticed that his horse suddenly changed the direction in which he was going. He did not take the trouble to check him. It was all the same to him where he went, now that he no longer had Leif.