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

the best thing you could do,” he said thoughtfully. Then suddenly he was certain, and went on: “But if you’ll give me a free hand to act on my discretion, I can do better for you at any rate than you could by yourself.”

“H’m,” began Isak. “You’ve always been a good man to us all here.⁠ ⁠…”

But Geissler frowned at that, and cut him short: “All right, then.”

Next morning the gentlemen sat down to write. It was a serious business; there was first of all a contract for forty thousand Kroner for the sale of the mine, then a document whereby Geissler made over the whole of the money to his wife and children. Isak and Sivert were called in to witness the signatures to these. When it was done, the gentlemen wanted to buy over Isak’s percentage for a ridiculous sum⁠—five hundred Kroner. Geissler put a stop to that, however. “Jesting apart,” he said.

Isak himself understood but little of the whole affair; he had sold the place once, and got his money. But in any case, he did not care much about Kroner⁠—it was not real money like Daler. Sivert, on the other hand, followed the business with more understanding. There was something peculiar, he thought, about the tone of these negotiations; it looked very much like a family affair between the parties. One of the strangers would say: “My dear Geissler, you ought not to have such red eyes, you know.” Whereto Geissler answered sharply, if evasively: “No, I ought not, I know. But we don’t all get what we ought to in this world!”

It looked very much as if Fru Geissler’s brothers and kinsmen were trying to buy off her husband, secure themselves against his visits for the future, and get quit of a troublesome relation. As to the mine, it was worth something in itself, no doubt, no one denied it; but it lay far out of the way, and the buyers themselves said they were only taking it over in order to sell it again to someone better in a position to work it. There was nothing unreasonable in that. They declared too, quite frankly, that they had no idea what they would be able to get for it as it stood; if it were taken up and worked, then the forty thousand might turn out to be only a fraction of what it was worth; if it were allowed to lie there as it was, the money was simply thrown away. But in any case, they wanted to have a clear title, without encumbrance, and therefore they offered Isak five hundred Kroner for his share.

“I’m acting on his behalf,” said Geissler, “and I’m not going to sell out his share for less than ten percent of the purchase-money.”

“Four thousand!” said the others.

“Four thousand,” said Geissler. “The land was his, and his share comes to four thousand. It wasn’t mine, and I get forty thousand. Kindly turn that over in your minds, if you please.”

“Yes, but⁠—four thousand Kroner!”

Geissler rose from his place, and said: “That, or no sale.”

They thought it over, whispered about it, went out into the yard, talking as long as they could. “Get the horses ready,” they called to the servants. One of the gentlemen went in to Inger and paid royally for coffee, a few eggs, and their lodging. Geissler walked about with a careless air, but he was wide awake all the same.

“How did that irrigation work turn out last year?” he asked Sivert.

“It saved the whole crop.”

“You’ve cut away that mound there since I was here last, what?”

“Ay.”

“You must have another horse on the farm,” said Geissler. He noticed everything.

One of the strangers came up. “Now then, let’s get this matter settled and have done with it,” he said.

They all went into the new building again, and Isak’s four thousand Kroner were counted out. Geissler was given a paper, which he thrust into his pocket as if it were of no value at all. “Keep that carefully,” they told him, “and in a few days your wife shall have the bankbook sent.”

Geissler puckered his forehead and said shortly: “Very good.”

But they were not finished with Geissler yet. Not that he opened his mouth to ask for anything; he simply stood there, and they saw how he stood there: maybe he had stipulated beforehand for a trifle on his own account. The leader gave him a bundle of notes, and Geissler simply nodded again, and said: “Very good.”

“And now I think we ought to drink a glass with Geissler,” said the other.

They drank, and that was done. And then they took leave of Geissler.

Just at that moment came Brede Olsen walking up. Now what did he want? Brede had doubtless heard the reports of the blasting charges the day before, and understood that there was something on foot in the way of mines. And now he came up ready to sell something too. He walked straight past Geissler, and addressed himself to the gentlemen; he had found some remarkable specimens of rock hereabouts, quite extraordinary, some blood-like, others like silver; he knew every cranny and corner in the hills around and could go straight to every spot; he knew of long veins of some heavy metal⁠—whatever it might be.

“Have you any samples?” asked the mining expert.

Yes, Brede had samples. But couldn’t they just as well go up and look at the places at once? It wasn’t far. Samples⁠—oh, sacks of them, whole packing-cases full. No, he had not brought them with him, they were at home⁠—he could run down and fetch them. But it would be quicker just to run up into the hills and fetch some more, if they would only wait.

The men shook their heads and went on their way.

Brede looked after them with an injured air. If he had felt a glimmer of hope for the moment, it was gone now; fate was against him, nothing ever went right. Well for Brede that he was not easily cast