“Good morning, Landlord. That is a trotter you have!” he said eagerly, biting his frozen mustache. “To tell the truth, I’ve been driving behind you at least a quarter of an hour without being able to overtake you. Where did you get the animal? What is his pedigree? How old is he? Just look at that chest and those thighs!”
The stranger left his sleigh as he spoke to examine Jalo more closely. Christian was pleased and proud, answered to the best of his ability, and praised the horse to the newcomer, who seemed to be perfectly delighted with him.
“Well, of course, you’ll come to the trotting races day after to-morrow. As the owner of an animal like yours, it’s your duty to do it. I am Captain T., one of the judges. Remember the first prize is a thousand marks.”
Christian had already heard of the races and even thought of them; but in the country people usually learn facts only after they have occurred. But now—why not, since he was already in the city?
Christian promised to come, and the men clasped hands on the agreement. Jalo, who was already impatient to go on, vanished from the Captain’s admiring gaze beyond the next hill like a streak of lightning.
Christian entered his horse for the races. What glorious days, what a season of triumph and honor for Jalo and his master! There was not a newspaper in the whole country which did not mention Jalo and his owner. Telegrams announcing the horse’s wonderful deeds flew from city to city. His victory was extraordinary; he carried off the first prize, outstripping famous old trotters. Even now, as Christian sat depressed and sorrowful in his entry, a bright smile flitted over his face as he recalled that glorious time. How distinctly everything rose before his mind: the golden sunlight, the blue sky, the light snow-flakes carried by the winter wind, the music and the cheering, the heating drinks, and Jalo, the hero of the day. It had undoubtedly been the brightest and happiest of his life. But as the highest surges sink the lowest, and the tallest pine trees cast the longest shadows, it also happened that the day when Jalo and his master reached the giddy heights of joy was followed by very sad consequences.
Nothing favorable was obtained from the lawyer. Instead of encouraging counsel he informed Christian that Jegor had already obtained the final judgment from the Governor. Christian’s debt must be paid, principal and interest. There was no resource except to sell Jalo, and even that would not completely cover the amount. Christian drank till he was completely dazed, wept, sobered up again, and, during all these varying moods, constantly tried to raise the price. At last the bargain had to be closed. Jalo was sold to a Russian merchant, and Christian returned home, deeply saddened and frantic with rage, driving a mare which he detested from the first moment. It was small consolation that his pocketbook was stuffed with hundred-mark notes, the farewell gift Jalo’s victory had brought to his master.
Christian was inconsolable, and it seemed downright madness to pay Jegor so much good money. It was just like throwing it into the sea. But at last he was obliged to make up his mind to it, and went to Jegor’s shop at an hour when he was sure of finding him alone, paid his debt, and received his note and other papers. Jegor was incautious enough to let some offensive words escape his lips, and nothing more was required to bring Christian’s repressed fury to utterance. If the former had never known before what a drubbing means, he understood it when his neighbor left the shop. From that day there was the bitterest enmity between the two men.
Christian was free; but though he bragged of it in Jegor’s hearing, his heart bled. What did he care for liberty without Jalo? True, he had escaped an impending danger, but in exchange had sacrificed all the happiness of his life. Existence had lost all charm for him; he had no more debts to trouble him, but also no Jalo to love. The occasional notices of the animal which he read in the newspapers were like salt in an open wound. “The famous trotter Jalo, that won the first prize at Wiborg, has again covered himself with glory,” or “the well-known trotter Jalo has again carried off a prize at the races at Savastehus.” On such days Christian was like a madman. Either he sat sullen and silent like a chaffinch in the rain, or he was angry and irritable, blazing out at the least provocation like Juniper in the flames.
Gradually the resolution to get possession of Jalo again at any cost became fixed in his mind. What was the use of saving and gathering to spend his life in joyless longing? His daughter and son-in-law were waiting impatiently for his death, that they might inherit his property. He had no grandchildren, so, as matters stood, the best thing he could do would be to try to get possession of Jalo once more.