“Yes, we’re leaving!” Lasse laughed—a hollow laugh. “Leaving—yes! We’ve left—indeed, we’ve each of us gone our own way. Karna has gone where there’s no more care and trouble—and here’s Lasse, with all that’s his!” He struck his foot against the sack, and stood there with face averted from them, his eyes fixed upon the ground.
All signs of life had vanished from Pelle’s face. Horrified, he stared at his father, and his lips moved, but he could form no words.
“Here I must meet my own son by accident in the middle of the empty fields! So often as I’ve looked for you and asked after you! No one knew anything about you. Your own flesh and blood has turned from you, I thought—but I had to tell Karna you were ill. She fully expected to see you before she went away. Then you must give him my love, she said, and God grant all may go well with him. She thought more about you than many a mother would have done! Badly you’ve repaid it. It’s a long time ago since you set foot in our house.”
Still Pelle did not speak; he stood there swaying from side to side; every word was like the blow of a club.
“You mustn’t be too hard on him!” said Sort. “He’s not to blame—ill as he’s been!”
“Ah, so you too have been through bad times and have got to fight your way, eh? Then, as your father, I must truly be the last to blame you.” Lasse stroked his son’s sleeve, and the caress gave Pelle pleasure. “Cry, too, my son—it eases the mind. In me the tears are dried up long ago. I must see how I can bear my grief; these have become hard times for me, you may well believe. Many a night have I sat by Karna and been at my wits’ end—I could not leave her and go for help, and everything went wrong with us all at the same time. It almost came to my wishing you were ill. You were the one who ought to have had a kindly thought for us, and you could always have sent us news. But there’s an end of it all!”
“Are you going to leave Heath Farm, father?” asked Pelle quietly.
“They have taken it away from me,” replied Lasse wretchedly. “With all these troubles, I couldn’t pay the last instalment, and now their patience is at an end. Out of sheer compassion they let me stay till Karna had fought out her fight and was happily buried in the earth—every one could see it wasn’t a matter of many days more.”
“If it is only the interest,” said Sort, “I have a few hundred kroner which I’ve saved up for my old days.”
“Now it’s too late; the farm is already taken over by another man. And even if that were not the case—what should I do there without Karna? I’m no longer any use!”