Growth of the Soil, Knut Hamsun [best self help books to read txt] 📗

down; he looked after the men as they rode away, and said at last: “Wish you a pleasant journey!” And that was all.

But now he was humble again in his manner towards Geissler, his former chief, and no longer treated him as an equal, but used forms of respect. Geissler had taken out his pocketbook on some pretext or other, and anyone could see that it was stuffed full of notes.

“If only Lensmand could help me a bit,” said Brede.

“Go back home and work your land properly,” said Geissler, and helped him not a bit.

“I might easily have brought up a whole barrow-load of samples, but wouldn’t it have been easier to go up and look at the place itself while they were here?”

Geissler took no notice of him, and turned to Isak: “Did you see what I did with that document? It was a most important thing⁠—a matter of several thousand Kroner. Oh, here it is, in among a bundle of notes.”

“Who were those people?” asked Brede. “Just out for a ride, or what?”

Geissler had been having an anxious time, no doubt, and now he cooled down. But he had still something of life and eagerness in him, enough to do a little more; he went up into the hills with Sivert, and took a big sheet of paper with him, and drew a map of the ground south of the lake⁠—Heaven knows what he had in mind. When he came down to the farm some hours later, Brede was still there, but Geissler took no notice of his questions; Geissler was tired, and waved him aside.

He slept like a stone till next morning early, then he rose with the sun, and was himself again. “Sellanraa,” said he, standing outside and looking all round.

“All that money,” said Isak; “does it mean I’m to have it all?”

“All?” said Geissler. “Heavens, man, can’t you see it ought to have been ever so much more? And it was my business really to pay you, according to our contract; but you saw how things were⁠—it was the only way to manage it. What did you get? Only a thousand Daler, according to the old reckoning. I’ve been thinking, you’ll need another horse on the place now.”

“Ay.”

“Well, I know of one. That fellow Heyerdahl’s assistant, he’s letting his place go to rack and ruin; takes more interest in running about selling folk up. He’s sold a deal of his stock already, and he’ll be willing to sell the horse.”

“I’ll see him about it,” said Isak.

Geissler waved his hand broadly around, and said: “Margrave, landowner⁠—that’s you! House and stock and cultivated land⁠—they can’t starve you out if they try!”

“No,” said Isak. “We’ve all we could wish for that the Lord ever made.”

Geissler went fussing about the place, and suddenly slipped in to Inger. “Could you manage a bit of food for me to take along again?” he asked. “Just a few wafers⁠—no butter and cheese; there’s good things enough in them already. No, do as I say; I can’t carry more.”

Out again. Geissler was restless, he went into the new building and sat down to write. He had thought it all out beforehand, and it did not take long now to get it down. Sending in an application to the State, he explained loftily to Isak⁠—“to the Ministry of the Interior, you understand. Yes, I’ve no end of things to look after all at once.”

When he had got his parcel of food and had taken leave, he seemed to remember something all of a sudden: “Oh, by the way, I’m afraid I owe you something from last time⁠—I took out a note from my pocketbook on purpose, and then stuck it in my waistcoat pocket⁠—I found it there afterwards. Too many things to think about all at once.⁠ ⁠…” He put something into Inger’s hand and off he went.

Ay, off went Geissler, bravely enough to all seeming. Nothing downcast nor anyway nearing his end; he came to Sellanraa again after, and it was long years before he died. Each time he went away the Sellanraa folk missed him as a friend. Isak had been thinking of asking him about Breidablik, getting his advice, but nothing came of it. And maybe Geissler would have dissuaded him there; have thought it a risky thing to buy up land for cultivation and give it to Eleseus; to a clerk.

XVIII

Uncle Sivert died after all. Eleseus spent three weeks looking after him, and then the old man died. Eleseus arranged the funeral, and managed things very well; got hold of a fuchsia or so from the cottages round, and borrowed a flag to hoist at half-mast, and bought some black stuff from the store for lowered blinds. Isak and Inger were sent for, and came to the burial. Eleseus acted as host, and served out refreshments to the guests; ay, and when the body was carried out, and they had sung a hymn, Eleseus actually said a few suitable words over the coffin, and his mother was so proud and touched that she had to use her handkerchief. Everything went off splendidly.

Then on the way home with his father, Eleseus had to carry that spring coat of his openly, though he managed to hide the stick in one of the sleeves. All went well till they had to cross the water in a boat; then his father sat down unexpectedly on the coat, and there was a crack. “What was that?” asked Isak.

“Oh, nothing,” said Eleseus.

But he did not throw the broken stick away; as soon as they got home, he set about looking for a bit of tube or something to mend it with. “We’ll fix it all right,” said Sivert, the incorrigible. “Look here, get a good stout splint of wood on either side, and lash all fast with waxed thread.⁠ ⁠…”

“I’ll lash you with waxed thread,” said Eleseus.

“Ha ha ha! Well, perhaps you’d rather tie it up neatly with a red garter?”

“Ha ha ha,” said