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Page 26
"Oh, is it this!" shouted Canute, looking sharply upon Lars: "it
is you who have the honor of it!"
"Since we necessarily talk of ourselves," replied Lars, "I will
say that all matters have been carefully considered by us before
they were introduced here."
Here little Canute Aakre resumed his quick way of speaking:
"In God's name take the honor, I am content to live without it;
there are other things harder to lose!"
Involuntarily Lars turned his eye from Canute, but said, the straw
moving very quickly: "If I were to speak my mind, I should say
there is not much to take honor for;--of course ministers and
teachers may be satisfied with what has been done; but, certainly,
the common men say only that up to this time the taxes have become
heavier and heavier."
A murmur arose in the assembly, which now became restless. Lars
continued:
"Finally, to-day, a proposition is made which, if carried, would
recompense the parish for all it has laid out; perhaps, for this
reason, it meets such opposition. It is the affair of the parish,
for the benefit of all its inhabitants, and ought to be rescued
from being a family matter." The audience exchanged glances, and
spoke half audibly, when one threw out a remark as he rose to go
to his dinner-pail, that these were "the truest words he had heard
in the meetings for many years." Now all arose, and the
conversation became general. Canute Aakre felt as he sat there
that the case was lost, fearfully lost; and tried no more to save
it. He had somewhat of the character attributed to Frenchmen, in
that he was good for first, second, and third attacks, but poor
for self-defence--his sensibilities overpowering his thoughts.
He could not comprehend it, nor could he sit quietly any longer;
so, yielding his place to the vice-chairman, he left,--and the
audience smiled.
He had come to the meeting accompanied by Lars, but returned home
alone, though the road was long. It was a cold autumn day; the way
looked jagged and bare, the meadow gray and yellow; while frost
had begun to appear here and there on the roadside. Disappointment
is a dreadful companion. He felt himself so small and desolate,
walking there; but Lars was everywhere before him, like a giant,
his head towering, in the dusk of evening, to the sky. It was his
own fault that this had been the decisive battle, and the thought
grieved him sorely: he had staked too much upon a single little
affair. But surprise, pain, anger, had mastered him; his heart
still burned, shrieked, and moaned within him. He heard the
rattling of a wagon behind; it was Lars, who came driving his
superb horse past him at a brisk trot, so that the hard road gave
a sound of thunder. Canute gazed after him, as he sat there so
broad-shouldered in the wagon, while the horse, impatient for
home, hurried on unurged by Lars, who only gave loose rein. It was
a picture of his power; this man drove toward the mark! He,
Canute, felt as if thrown out of his wagon to stagger along there
in the autumn cold.
Canute's wife was waiting for him at home. She knew there would be
a battle; she had never in her life believed in Lars, and lately
had felt a dread of him. It had been no comfort to her that they
had ridden away together, nor would it have comforted her if they
had returned in the same way. But darkness had fallen, and they
had not yet come. She stood in the doorway, went down the road and
home again; but no wagon appeared. At last she hears a rattling on
the road, her heart beats as violently as the wheels revolve; she
clings to the doorpost, looking out; the wagon is coming; only one
sits there; she recognizes Lars, who sees and recognizes her, but
is driving past without stopping. Now she is thoroughly alarmed!
Her limbs fail her; she staggers in, sinking on the bench by the
window. The children, alarmed, gather around, the youngest asking
for papa, for the mother never spoke with them but of him. She
loved him because he had such a good heart, and now this good
heart was not with them; but, on the contrary, away on all kinds
of business, which brought him only unhappiness; consequently,
they were unhappy too.
"Oh, that no harm had come to him to-day! Canute was so excitable!
Why did Lars come home alone? why didn't he stop?"
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