They both lay for a time without speaking. “You have something in you that conquers them all!” said Sort at length. “If only you would help me—I’d see to the preaching!”
Pelle stretched himself indolently—he felt no desire to create a new religion. “No, I want to go away and see the world now,” he said. “There must be places in that world where they’ve already begun to go for the rich folks—that’s where I want to go!”
“One can’t achieve good by the aid of evil—you had better stay here! Here you know where you are—and if we went together—”
“No, there’s nothing here for any one to do who is poor—if I go on here any longer, I shall end in the mud again. I want to have my share—even if I have to strike a bloodsucker dead to get it—and that couldn’t be any very great sin! But shan’t we see about getting on now? We’ve been a whole month now tramping round these Sudland farms. You’ve always promised me that we should make our way toward the heath. For months now I’ve heard nothing of Father Lasse and Karna. When things began to go wrong with me, it was as though I had quite forgotten them.”
Sort rose quickly. “Good! So you’ve still thoughts for other things than killing bloodsuckers! How far is it, then, to Heath Farm?”
“A good six miles.”
“We’ll go straight there. I’ve no wish to begin anything to-day.”
They packed their possessions on their backs and trudged onward in cheerful gossip. Sort pictured their arrival to Pelle. “I shall go in first and ask whether they’ve any old boots or harness that we can mend; and then you’ll come in, while we’re in the middle of a conversation.”
Pelle laughed. “Shan’t I carry the bench for you? I can very well strap it on the other things.”
“You shan’t sweat for me as well as yourself!” rejoined Sort, laughing. “You’d want to take off even your trousers then.”