All the work-people connected with the monastery were anxious to merit his approval, and to have him with them, whatever their work might be. There were two of the work-people who were specially attached to him: little Unnas, who has been described in the previous chapter, and a Kvaen named Jussi. Unnas Ambrose had rescued from death. With Jussi Ambrose had made acquaintance in quite a different way.
He had on a certain occasion come upon Jussi out in the country, as Jussi was in the very act of maltreating a woman. Ambrose spoke sharply to him; and when the Kvaen became insolent, he had lifted him up to throw him aside. Then the Kvaen’s blood boiled over, and he struck at Ambrose. Thereupon a struggle ensued between the two men, both of whom [[41]]were unusually strong. The Kvaen was one of those strongly-built men belonging to that nation who, if they are provoked, do not shun any peril, and do not give in until they have either lost their life, or have come off victorious. The same characteristic rests upon their ordinary daily work, be it manual labour, navigating or fighting. If the Kvaen has begun anything in earnest, no power on earth can restrain him until he has accomplished what he has taken in hand. In good or in evil, in friendship or in enmity, the Kvaen is persevering and constant. In that respect he is quite different from the Finn, who for a short time can be eager enough; but the energy is only a spurt, and never lasts long. The Kvaen, on the other hand, is tough and true as steel, and can even be cold-blooded and cruel, and as heartlessly ferocious as a wolf.
The monk and the Kvaen fought in earnest; but if the Kvaen was as physically strong as Ambrose, the latter was his superior in the expertness with which he administered his blows with the closed fists, and on this occasion no other weapons were employed. Unnas was not present; had he been, he would assuredly have fixed his teeth firmly in the Kvaen’s leg, even at the risk of being kicked to death. A fearful blow on the forehead caused the Kvaen to stumble, and then Ambrose felled him to the ground and knelt upon his chest.
‘Do you give in?’
‘No, never.’
Ambrose took him roughly by the throat, and almost strangled him.
‘Well, will you give in, and ask for grace?’
‘No,’ the Kvaen hissed out, and struggled to get free.
‘Very well, get up again,’ said Ambrose who was now beginning to get angry himself, as the scar in his forehead got red, ‘and I will let you know that I am master.’
The Kvaen jumped up, and the fight was continued; but at last he received a stunning blow, and fell backwards on the ground, with Ambrose on top of him.