Lasse came stumbling up to them; he dropped his sack and gave them his hand without looking at them.
“Are you coming this way?” cried Pelle joyfully; “we were just going on to look for you!”
“You can save yourself the trouble! You’ve become stingy about using your legs. Spare them altogether!” said Lasse lifelessly.
Pelle stared at him. “What’s the matter? Are you leaving?”
“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!”