Axel takes no heed. He had given a promise to God not to be vengeful, not to tell of what Brede had done, but beyond that he was free. And what was Brede going up that way again for now? Had he seen that Oline was at Maaneland, and guessed that she would hear?
"And it's you here, Oline, is it?" goes on Brede easily. "Where d'you find him? Under a tree? Well, now, 'tis a curious thing," says he. "I was up that way just now on duty, along the line, and seems like I heard some one shouting. Turns round and listens quick as a flash—Brede's the man to lend a hand if there's need. And so 'twas Axel, was it, lying under a tree, d'you say?"
"Ay," says Axel. "And well you knew that saw and heard as well. But never helping hand…."
"Good Lord, deliver us!" cries Oline, aghast. "As I'm a sinner…."
Brede explains. "Saw? Why, yes, I saw you right enough. But why didn't you call out? You might have called out if there was anything wrong. I saw you right enough, ay, but never thought but you were lying down a bit to rest."
"You'd better say no more," says Axel warningly. "You know well enough you left me there and hoping I'd never rise again."
Oline sees her way now; Brede must not be allowed to interfere. She must be indispensable, nothing can come between her and Axel that could make him less completely indebted to herself. She had saved him, she alone. And she waves Brede aside; will not even let him carry the ax or the basket of food. Oh, for the moment she is all on Axel's side—but next time she comes to Brede and sits talking to him over a cup of coffee, she will be on his.
"Let me carry the ax and things, anyway," says Brede.
"Nay," says Oline, speaking for Axel. "He'll take them himself."
And Brede goes on again: "You might have called to me, anyway; we're not so deadly enemies that you couldn't say a word to a man?—You did call? Well, you might have shouted then, so a man could hear. Blowing a gale and all…. Leastways, you might have waved a hand."