Growth of the Soil Knut Hamsun (summer books .txt) 📖

or twelve to nine. There’s a commission sitting to reform the criminal code, make it more humane, but the final decision won’t be ready yet. Anyhow, we must hope for the best,” said he.

Inger came back in a state of dull resignation; they had not found it necessary to keep her in confinement meantime. Two months passed; then one evening, when Isak came back from fishing, the Lensmand and his new assistant had been to Sellanraa.

Inger was cheerful, and welcomed her husband kindly, praising his catch, though it was little he had brought home.

“What I was going to say⁠—has anyone been here?” he asked.

“Anyone been? Why, who should there be?”

“There’s fresh footmarks outside. Men with boots on.”

“Why⁠—there’s been no one but the Lensmand and one other.”

“What did they want?”

“You know that without asking.”

“Did they come to fetch you?”

“Fetch me? No, ’twas only about the sentence. The Lord is kind, ’tis not so bad as I feared.”

“Ah,” said Isak eagerly. “Not so long, maybe?”

“No. Only a few years.”

“How many years?”

“Why, you might think it a lot, maybe. But I’m thankful to God all the same.”

Inger did not say how long it would be. Later that evening Isak asked when they would be coming to fetch her away, but this she could not or would not tell. She had grown thoughtful again, and talked of what was to come; how they would manage she could not think⁠—but she supposed they would have to get Oline to come. And Isak had no better plan to offer.

What had become of Oline, by the way? She had not been up this year as she used to do. Was she going to stay away forever, now that she had upset everything for them? The working season passed, but Oline did not come⁠—did she expect them to go and fetch her? She would come loitering up of herself, no doubt, the great lump of blubber, the monster.

And at last one day she did. Extraordinary person⁠—it was as nothing whatever had occurred to make ill-feeling between them; she was even knitting a pair of new stockings for Eleseus, she said.

“Just came up to see how you were getting on over here,” said she. And it turned out that she had brought her clothes and things up in a sack, and left in the woods close by, ready to stay.

That evening Inger took her husband aside and said: “Didn’t you say something about seeking out Geissler? ’Tis in the slack time now.”

“Ay,” said Isak. “Now that Oline is come, I can go off tomorrow morning, first thing.”

Inger was grateful, and thanked him. “And take your money with you,” she said⁠—“all you have in the place.”

“Why, can’t you keep the money here?”

“No,” said she.

Inger made up a big parcel of food at once, and Isak woke while it was yet night, and got ready to start. Inger went out on the door-slab to see him off; she did not cry or complain, but only said:

“They may be coming for me now any day.”

“You don’t know when?”

“No, I can’t say. And I don’t suppose it will be just yet, but anyhow.⁠ ⁠… If only you could get hold of Geissler, perhaps he might be able to say something.”

What could Geissler do to help them now? Nothing. But Isak went.

Inger⁠—oh, she knew, no doubt, more than she had been willing to say. It might be, too, that she herself had sent for Oline. When Isak came from Sweden, Inger was gone and Oline was there with the two children.

It was dark news for a homecoming. Isak’s voice was louder than usual as he asked: “Is she gone?”

“Ay,” said Oline.

“What day was it?”

“The day after you left.” And Isak knew now that Inger had got him out of the way on purpose⁠—that was why she had persuaded him to take the money with him. Oh, but she might have kept a little for herself, for that long journey!

But the children could think of nothing else but the little pig Isak had brought with him. It was all he had for his trouble; the address he had was out of date, and Geissler was no longer in Sweden, but had returned to Norway and was now in Trondhjem. As for the pig, Isak had carried it in his arms all the way, feeding it with milk from a bottle, and sleeping with it on his breast among the hills. He had been looking forward to Inger’s delight when she saw it; now, Eleseus and Sivert played with it, and it was a joy to them. And Isak, watching them, forgot his trouble for the moment. Moreover, Oline had a message from the Lensmand; the State had at last given its decision in the matter of the land at Sellanraa. Isak had only to go down to the office and pay the amount. This was good news, and served to keep him from the worst depth of despair. Tired and worn out as he was, he packed up some food in a bag and set off for the village at once. Maybe he had some little hope of seeing Inger once again before she left there.

But he was disappointed. Inger was gone⁠—for eight years. Isak felt himself in a mist of darkness and emptiness; heard only a word here and there of all the Lensmand said⁠—a pity such things should happen⁠ ⁠… hoped it might be a lesson to her⁠ ⁠… reform and be a better woman after, and not kill her children any more!

Lensmand Heyerdahl had married the year before. His wife had no intention of ever being a mother⁠—no children for her, thank you! And she had none.

“And now,” said the Lensmand, “this business about Sellanraa. At last I am in a position to settle it definitely. The Department is graciously pleased to approve the sale of the land, more or less according to the terms I suggested.”

“H’m,” said Isak.

“It has been a lengthy business, but I have the satisfaction of knowing that my endeavours have