“Ach, one knows these things—it’s part of one’s business. You’ll get five to six years, Pelle, till you are stiff with it. Prison, of course —not penal servitude.”
Pelle shuddered.
“You’ll freeze in there,” said Ferdinand compassionately. “As for me, I can settle down very well in there. But listen, Pelle—you’ve been so good, and you’ve tried to save me—next to mother you are the only person I care anything about. If you would like to go abroad I can soon hide you and find the passage-money.”
“Where will you get it?” asked Pelle, hesitating.
“Ach, I go in for the community of goods,” said Ferdinand with a broad smile. “The prefect of police himself has just five hundred kroner lying in his desk. I’ll try to get it for you if you like.”
“No,” said Pelle slowly, “I would rather undergo my punishment. But thanks for your kind intentions—and give my best wishes to your old mother. And if you ever have anything to spare, then give it to Widow Johnsen. She and the child have gone hungry since Hanne’s death.”
And then there was nothing more to do or say; it was all over…. He went straight across the market-place toward the court-house. There it stood, looking so dismal! He strolled slowly past it, along the canal, in order to collect himself a little before going in. He walked along the quay, gazing down into the water, where the boats and the big live- boxes full of fish were just visible. By Holmens Church he pulled himself together and turned back—he must do it now! He raised his head with a sudden resolve and found himself facing Marie. Her cheeks glowed as he gazed at her.
“Pelle,” she cried, rejoicing, “are you still at liberty? Then it wasn’t true! I have been to the meeting, and they said there you had been arrested. Ach, we have been so unhappy!”
“I shall be arrested—I am on the way now.”
“But, Pelle, dear Pelle!” She gazed at him with tearful eyes. Ah, he was still the foundling, who needed her care! Pelle himself had tears in his eyes; he suddenly felt weak and impressible. Here was a human child whose heart was beating for him—and how beautiful she was, in her grief at his misfortune!