Giants in the earth

I

A DAY in June, of quivering, vital sunlight.... The irregular shadows of fleecy clouds drifting across an endless plain.... Sun and irregular, fleecy clouds—nothing but these all day....

Over the prairie, making toward the settlement by Spring Creek, rattled an old, dilapidated cart, antique of build, in a state so wretched that it seemed ready to fall apart at the next tussock it might encounter.

The nag in front was in perfect keeping with the vehicle: long-shanked and rawboned, and so lean and lanky that one could have counted every rib. Originally its colour might have been a light grey, but now it was no longer definable: dirty grey, rusty, yellowish-brown—it might have been any one of these, or just as accurately something else. Only a few miserable hanks were left of what probably had once been a flowing mane. Above the shoulders rose a big hump; when the animal stretched out its neck, one was reminded of a dromedary. Undoubtedly it had once been an authentic horse, but that must have been a long time ago.

The man in the seat was of even more uncertain age than either horse or vehicle. He might be forty-five, or he might just as likely be sixty-five. But for his beard and stoutness, one would be inclined to guess the former figure, for the expression of his face was still youthful, the eyes bright and sparkling with something boyish in their gleam. But the beard clearly suggested a more advanced age; it stretched from ear to ear, forming a thick fringe around the chin; it was perhaps an inch long, heavy and stiff, originally blond in color, but now streaked with grey. The clothes, too, testified to the man’s advanced age; especially the coat, which seemed to be neither coat nor jacket, but something out of the ordinary—a garment of thin black cloth, loosely fitting, too long to be called a jacket, yet not long enough for a topcoat.

The horse trudged slowly on, the cart jolting and rumbling behind; the man on the seat allowed him to dawdle as much as he pleased, and hummed tunes to himself to pass the time. After a long while the sod huts by Spring Creek began almost imperceptibly to lift their heads out of the ground; and not a bit too soon, for evening was fast coming on.

A couple of frame houses, one large and square, the other smaller and with a high gable, had long been visible. They seemed strangely conspicuous in the bare, level landscape; one could not help wondering if they really belonged here in the wilderness. The man on the cart, however, apparently paid no heed to them; as the sod huts came more and more within the range of his vision, his humming gradually grew fainter and more intermittent.

“Hm ... hm.... Well, here they are. Move along now. King!” came coaxingly from out of the fringe of beard. “We must try to scratch gravel, you see, and get there before the folks go to bed. Go ’long, I tell you, go ’long!”

The sun had already set when the horse came to a standstill in front of one of the huts; the traveller did not get down.

“Anybody at home here?” he shouted in a strong voice.

Sounds of sudden movement were heard within. A stout toil-worn, red-faced man came hastily out, an equally stout but rounder woman rolled after him, both with their mouths full of food; the red-faced man was wiping his beard; both he and his wife were staring at the stranger.

“I asked if there were people here,” repeated the man, unconsciously falling into the idiom of his native tongue and using a phrase that carried a special meaning. Behind the fringe of his whiskers beamed a broad smile.

“Oh, the devil! Are you Norwegian, then?” shouted the red-faced man, jovially.

“So, so! Do you call on that fellow around here?”

The man on the ground immediately grew serious; he and his wife were staring at the stranger.

“Have you any more food than you need for supper, and a place to put up a tired horse that’s been on his feet all day?”

Without waiting for an answer, the speaker threw down the lines, stepped out of the cart, stretched himself, and sighed with relief.

“My, my! How stiff one gets from all this shaking!... What’s your name, my good man?”

“My name is Syvert Tönseten. What kind of a fellow may you be?” Tönseten came close up and looked inquiringly at the stranger, who had now turned to the woman:

“Have you got any food in the house, mother?” And ignoring the man, the traveller took from his cart a large, old, and well-worn satchel, which he deposited on the ground.

“Why, yes ... of course ... if you will take what we have!” said Kjersti, slowly. There she paused; moving behind her husband, she took her hand from under her apron and gave a pull at his jacket; she had now looked the stranger over and didn’t feel altogether relieved....

Tönseten was too preoccupied with himself to notice her. “I am asking you,” he said with pompous dignity, “what kind of a fellow you are and what you are after. Are you looking for land?”

The stranger put his hands against his sides, looked straight at them, and said, impressively:

“I am a minister. As for you, my good man, you ought not to stand there swearing into the face of strangers!... Now let me ask you again: May I stop here to-night?”

“Good heavens!” exclaimed Tönseten, letting his breath go as if some one had hit him in the stomach.

“Oh, my! Oh, my!” wailed Kjersti, awe-stricken, yet overwhelmed with joy. “Is the man crazy? Can he really be a minister?... Of course he must stop here, if he can only eat the stuff we have!”

“Don’t worry about that, mother.” He turned to her husband. “And now you and I will attend to the horse.”

Tönseten’s knees were weak from penitent zeal; he trembled with eagerness to help; he wanted to talk, but his voice failed and the words would not come. But the horse was wonderfully well cared for; he even went back a second time, after they were through, to spread another layer of straw for bedding. While they worked the minister had many questions to ask; they took their own time about coming in.

At last Tönseten ushered the minister into the hut, placed a chair at the farthest end of the table, and bade him be seated. The table now was laid with a white tablecloth, on which had been placed a superabundance of food for only one person; there were römmekolle and flatbröd, fresh milk and boiled eggs; there were coffee and cakes; but even so, Kjersti thought it too little to offer such a distinguished visitor; now she was busy frying a couple of egg pancakes. Thank goodness, there was plenty of what she had! She had hurriedly tidied up the room; it looked cozy and comfortable inside the hut, and the minister could not refrain from expressing his admiration.

Finally he sat up to the table and began to eat, praising everything that he tasted and helping himself bountifully, like a healthy person whose hunger has been sharpened by a long fast.

Tönseten remained standing in the middle of the floor, talking with the minister; his manner was humble almost to the point of unction, his voice had taken on a tone of great solemnity. Kjersti hung in the background by the stove, where the room lay in shadow, listening closely to the conversation; she was more concerned about what her husband said than to follow the minister’s discourse—Syvert was so easily excited, poor fellow, and had so little experience in talking to people of quality! She watched the minister as he helped himself liberally to the food, and felt the blessing of it descend upon her. How kind of him to say the nice things he did about the food she had prepared!... And he chatted with them so pleasantly and naturally! No traces of sermonizing in his talk! Why, he and Syvert were just discussing ordinary everyday things—about conditions as they were around there, about crops and prospects, about the best way to run a farm.... Now and then Tönseten would turn their conversation toward the future; he was more interested in visualizing how things were going to turn out than in making a bare statement of how they actually were; that was something he could enlarge upon to the minister. And the minister seemed to have much good advice; thus they ought to do with that, he said, and so with this, but differently with the other.... At length he inquired about the religious life of the people in this locality. Tönseten cleared his throat at the question, which he had been expecting, and answered emphatically that that was a subject on which he wasn’t very well posted; you couldn’t expect a common farmer to know much about such matters. And then he began hurriedly to ask the pastor which way he had come, and whether he had seen many settlers in the parts through which he had travelled. This, in turn, gave him an opportunity to tell how the country looked hereabouts when he had first arrived six years ago; he waxed so eloquent on this point that it seemed difficult for him to stop.... Kjersti realized that he was now on extremely dangerous ground!——

At last the minister had finished his meal.

“Now then, my good man, be silent, and we will thank the Lord for this day.”

“Yes, yes—of course!” ... Tönseten blew his nose vigorously; but not knowing what to do with himself next, he stuck his thumbs inside his trousers-band, and stood where he was in the middle of the floor, utterly unnerved.

Kjersti sank down on the wood-box, and wiped her eyes with her apron.... She wanted to tell her husband to sit down, but simply couldn’t screw up her courage to do it.

Placing his folded hands on the table, the minister began in a quiet way, as if addressing some one they could not see who stood very near; he seemed to be well acquainted with this unseen being, for he spoke in a low voice and very intimately, as to a dear friend who, unexpectedly, had done him a good turn. He thanked Him for the day that now was past, nevermore to return, entreating Him to cast into the ocean of grace all sins committed on this day; he prayed long and earnestly for the people out here, for the house in which he sat, and especially for the man standing there who was so prone to swear; in one way or another He must come to him and remind him constantly of what His holy law provided with respect to this grievous sin. But He must not be too severe with these poor people, for they had wandered far from home and some had gone astray, and long had they dwelt out here in the Great Wilderness, without a shepherd and without care. Truly, life had not been easy for them!... After saying amen, he remained silent for some time, with hands still folded; from the candle on the table a pale glow was thrown over his face, touching the fringe of his beard with pure silver.... Peace had fallen on the room.

Then the minister arose.

“Praise be to God, and thanks to you, good people, for this sumptuous feast!”

Tönseten again blew his nose violently; then, overcome with confusion, he wheeled about and walked out of the hut.

Kjersti sat on the wood-box, weeping with mingled emotions. The minister came over and took her by the hand. “A fine meal you prepared for me, mother, and here are my heartfelt thanks!”

“Oh, well—that’s nothing!” ... She shook her head speechlessly, but could not let go his hand.

In a moment Tönseten returned.... This would never do, he wanted to explain. He wasn’t such a bad case as the minister seemed to think. He ought to hear some of the others when they let themselves go!... But as soon as he stood in the presence of the pastor, confusion overcame him again; he merely stuttered and stammered, and found nothing to say.

The minister now opened his satchel; first of all he took out a large, fat pouch, and then an ancient pipe, which he carefully cleaned and promptly filled. “A little incense, I think, will now be blessedly enjoyable.... No, just remain seated, mother.”

II

The sleeping quarters assigned to the minister were the spare sod house, a structure which was now to be found on every farm. Clothes were hung in it, and food was stored there, as well as tools and farm implements; it might even contain a blacksmith’s shop and a carpenter’s bench, if the size of the room was sufficient; but nearly always there was a bed, made and ready for use.

But the minister seemed more anxious to visit with them than to go to bed; he smoked pipe after pipe, striking it against his toe to knock out the ashes, each time filling and lighting it anew. He asked them all about their life, and the struggle they had had since they came to this place. This was rich for Tönseten; he never tired of telling.... Finally the minister knocked out the ashes of his pipe for the last time, got up, and laid it carefully aside.

“Well, now the day is done, and a fine, blessed day it has been; the night is approaching, so let us enjoy sweet repose.... Where do you intend to put me up for the night, mother?”

Both Kjersti and Tönseten felt that they must accompany him to the other hut. There stood the bed, with a small table at its side, covered with a rose-coloured cloth; the room was small and crowded, but seemed cozy and cheerful withal.

“Oh, here it will be sweet to stretch one’s weary limbs!” exclaimed the minister, joyfully.

“What a wonderful man he is!” thought Kjersti. She began to make many excuses because they had nothing better to offer.

With a mixture of jest and earnestness the minister rebuked her for such talk; soon they were all three laughing together, and it was so pleasant that the hosts could hardly tear themselves away.

Tönseten had aged considerably in the last two years; one who had known him before that time would scarcely recognize him now. He had struggled with a bad cough for two consecutive springs; this spring it had been so violent at times that he feared the end had come; but Kjersti had finally managed to boil and dose it out of him. It had left its mark, however; he became easily tired now, and needed a lot of sleep in order to keep going.

But to-night he didn’t get much sleep; and what little there was brought no rest. Serious things to think about had suddenly come forward.... Oh, my God!...

He would have liked to stay with the minister for a private and confidential talk; but he knew that Kjersti would never go away and leave them alone. While she was clearing the table, after they had gone back to their own house, he slipped out and walked over to the other hut; but when he got there he realized that it was too late; he couldn’t talk to the minister to-night—it would never do to disturb him now.

At last they went to bed together, Tönseten and his wife. Kjersti lost consciousness almost at once; but Syvert lay awake a long while, pondering over how he might be able to gain the ear of the minister.... “To-morrow morning,” he thought, “before the minister shows up, I’ll take some wash water over to him. I’ll sit down in the doorway while he washes, where I can see if anyone is coming; then, maybe, I’ll get a chance to talk with him.... I’ll tell him everything. There’s going to be the devil to pay! Useless to try any tricks here—I can’t get out of it. His eyes are too keen—they see right through you!... But suppose Kjersti comes along while we are talking? Well, there you are! He would be likely to refer to it again when we go over to the house, and that would give the whole thing away; he’s a terror when he begins asking questions! No, this thing has always been my own worry, and it shall continue to be.... O Lord! I dread it like hell! If he could make such a fuss over that little innocent word I dropped, just speaking naturally, what will he say about this?” ... Cold sweat was standing on Tönseten’s forehead.... “No, it will probably be better to wait till he leaves; then I can go along with him a little way—get out of range of those eyes of hers.”

This decision brought him something like peace, but no sleep; for now he had to consider how to present the case in the best light possible. No sooner had he begun to think that over than the whole wretched business stood clearly before his eyes; there he lay, wide awake, staring at his great sin....

Tönseten was indeed in a terrible plight; none but himself knew how utterly heinous and desperate it was. Until last spring he hadn’t known it, either; but at that time, when he was lying prostrate and the cough was threatening to make an end of him, he had come to a full realization of the enormity of his deed; since then it had hung over him like a dark shadow, growing deeper and deeper the longer he turned it in his mind.... Just imagine a perfectly innocent man getting himself into such a fix! But had anyone, innocent or guilty, ever committed a sin like the one that lay at his door?

This minister seemed to have a lot of sense, though; perhaps he might understand that it wasn’t altogether Syvert’s fault, in a manner of speaking.... They had come to him, you see—he couldn’t get out of it. He had been legally elected, too; and one of the specified duties of his office was to do just this thing. Surely those who had laid down the law and forced ignorant people to perform such acts ought to be made to bear part of the blame!... Of course, he might have objected. Oh yes, that was just it—he might have refused. That was probably just what the minister would say; he felt it in his bones. Great God, what a mess!... The picture of it passed before his mind in rank and file, clearly and distinctly; he could both see and hear the actors of that hateful drama; and so he lived it over once more to the last detail, muttering to himself, and turning alternately hot and cold.

It would be just four years the coming fall since this transgression had taken place.... It had even happened on a Sunday afternoon.... Well, perhaps that wasn’t so bad. The whole crowd had come walking up toward the hut; nearly all the east-siders were in the procession, with Johannes Mörstad and his girl, Josie, in the center.... Halvor Hegg had explained their errand—Halvor, he was a pretty decent fellow. Tönseten couldn’t remember the exact words now, but their import was something like this: “You are a justice of the peace, Syvert Tönseten, and that is a very important office.” He remembered one thing distinctly, that Halvor had emphasized the word important. “Now, Johannes and Josie, they want to get married and live together, because Johannes, he needs help the way he is hustling; and there isn’t anyone else but you to perform the ceremony. According to law and justice, you’ll have to do it, too, as near as you can in the Christian manner; you realize that yourself.” That was the trend of Halvor’s remarks.... Tönseten groaned aloud, for he well remembered how frightened he had been when he had finally waked up to the grim fact that Halvor meant what he said. Since last spring, when he had lain there fighting with death, he had scarcely thought of anything else....

And that Sunday afternoon he had married the couple!

If he could only be sure, even, that he had done it properly according to law! But he had been unable to find the papers and instructions furnished him for such an occasion; not that they would have helped him much, for they were all in English.... The neighbours had elected him justice of the peace when they organized the town; the regulations called for such an official, and they had poked a lot of fun at him about his important office. At that time he hadn’t dreamed that it would ever call for legal or technical action, least of all for anything like that.... How could he, an ignorant layman, have dared to go to work deliberately and do such a sacrilegious thing! Tönseten spat on the floor and rolled over in bed; he was absolutely convinced that the heaviest sin one could commit was that of meddling in sacred matters.

... He had excused himself—he had tried to get out of it! He had insisted that he didn’t know how—the neighbours could testify to that!...

The worst of it was that the young people had made merry with him about it, both then and afterward; they had hurrahed for the “parson” as well as for the bridal couple, and had applauded the whole ceremony as if it were a joke.... And Johannes and Josie had moved at once into a house of their own and had lived together as man and wife ever since.... What infamy! The minister would simply have to do something about it!... Oh yes, he recalled the whole damnable business....

Why, hadn’t the two principals themselves, Johannes and Josie, stood before him without a sign of seriousness in their attitude; hadn’t they even laughed right into his face?... And he couldn’t be certain that he, too, hadn’t smiled, although he had tried hard to keep his face straight.... Then he had taken her hand and placed it in Johannes’s.... No, now let’s see, it must have been the other way around; it had been Josie, however, who had taken the notion that he wasn’t doing it right, and had insisted on changing the hands—the others had laughed and shouted fit to kill.... With that settled, in a deep silence he had pronounced these words: “Now, Johannes, you take this woman standing by your side—yes, I say, take her now, and use her decently and honorably, as is befitting good Norwegian folk!” After that he had uttered the word “amen” in a loud voice—for the life of him he couldn’t think of anything else to say. And Josie had looked up brightly into his face, her eyes snapping with mischief—she was such a pretty girl and had laughed so happily.... Since then these two had lived together as man and wife—in infamy! But after all, no serious calamity had befallen them, save that the children had come so terribly close together; at any rate, they were all pretty and well shaped!... Huf! Huf!...

Tönseten turned over for the twentieth time. Oh, well, he would confess to the minister in the morning, let the chastising be ever so severe. He must be absolved of this sin! If that cough should return next winter, there was no telling what might happen!...

Since children baptized at home could be rebaptized by a minister, as if the religious ceremony had only been postponed, there was no logical reason why a matter like this couldn’t be mended!

At breakfast next morning the minister kept asking a host of questions; he inquired at length about everything that his brief survey had shown him: Who lived in this hut and who lived in that? Who had built the big houses? How had those men happened to prosper ahead of the others?

Tönseten sat at the opposite end of the table, where he was served separately. This morning he didn’t seem to have any appetite—he couldn’t relish his food.... It was astonishing how many things the minister found to ask questions about.... Throughout the breakfast Tönseten sat in the grip of a silent fear, afraid of what might come next; as soon as the meal was safely over, he found a pretext for leaving the room.

A few moments later the minister came out into the yard, with his satchel in his hand, and glanced around at the neighbourhood where he had arrived. In his wake came Kjersti, bashfully tripping out of the house; Tönseten walked restlessly about the yard, handling one thing after another, but did not approach the minister; then the latter called out to him:

... Who lived directly west of them?

... Why, that was Hans Olsa—that is to say, Hans Vaag.

... And to the north?

... That was Per Holm—or rather Per Hansa, as he was called.

The minister scrutinized closely that part of the settlement visible from where they stood; then he went on with his inquiries about the people.

... Where was the largest house?

... Did he mean the biggest room? Well, that was at Per Holm’s; he had gone ahead and built on a big scale the very spring he came out; people had thought him crazy for putting up such a sod house, but it had turned out that he wasn’t so crazy, after all.... Torkel Tallaksen was now building a grand house of lumber, that would surely be a mansion when it was finished; but it wasn’t done yet....

“Well, now, let’s get to work,” said the minister, resolutely. “First of all, my good man, I must get you to help me. Will you hurry around to all your neighbours and tell them that to-day, at two o’clock, I shall conduct divine services at the house of this man Per Holm. Everyone must be present—tell them that they have to come! And you, mother”—he turned to address Kjersti—“I think it would be a kindness of you if you were to go over and help Mrs. Holm get the house ready for the service; it need not be anything extraordinary, but the place in which the Lord’s blessings are dealt out ought at least to be clean and tidy!”

They gazed at the minister in alarm, but for a while said nothing.

“Well—poor Beret!” sighed Kjersti, compassionately.

“Beret?... So that is her name? What is the matter with the woman? Are they so very poor?”

Suddenly Tönseten forgot his reserve and spoke up emphatically: “I’ll tell you about it. This Per Hansa—that is to say, Per Holm—he has got rich out here; he has done better than anyone else, though he came here without a cent to his name. And why shouldn’t he have done well? He has plenty of help in his own family, so he never needs to hire; and besides that, good luck has followed him right along. The first year we settled, for instance, the grasshoppers came and made a clean sweep of the rest of us; but Per Hansa saved his whole crop! The same year he made a big haul with his potatoes ... why, he must have sold for a thousand that year, and nobody knows how much he has made these years on the fur trade that he’s carried on with the Indians.... He is now settled on three quarters of land!”

“Well, well! that’s fine! But what ails his wife?”

Now it was Kjersti’s turn; she shook her head sadly as she related all the distressing circumstances. Now and then Tönseten, fearing that she hadn’t made things clear enough, would put in a word. The minister prompted them with questions. After a while he had learned the whole sad story about Beret Holm.... His face clouded as he listened; it was as if the sun had suddenly darkened over a beautiful landscape, until it became drab and desolate to look upon. For a long time he stood there absorbed in thought, the two gazing at him apprehensively; they dared not speak to him in this mood. At last he said, quietly, “I think we had better arrange it this way, mother: I will go over there first, and you follow about noontime. As for you, my friend,” turning to Tönseten, “try to do your errand well! Remember that they must bring all the children requiring baptism. Don’t forget that! And tell them to be sure and bring their hymn books, too.”

The minister was now making his preparations to go to Per Hansa’s; as the distance was so short, he had decided to leave his horse.

Tönseten fussed about uneasily, delaying his errand; he assured the minister that he needn’t worry—he would get the message around to everybody in good season—it would only take a minute or two!... His red beard caught the sunlight every time he moved his head, which now kept bobbing around in a ridiculous way.

At last the minister took his departure and Tönseten was on hand to go along with him.

“Let me carry that satchel for you.... I’ll begin here on the north side and work east—that’s the shortest way.”

They walked on side by side, the minister deeply absorbed in thought; after a while Tönseten fell a little way behind.

“I want to talk to you about something,” he tried to say casually. His voice was so faint and low that the other could hardly catch it.

The minister stopped short and looked at him. Tönseten glanced this way and that; his eyes fell to the ground and he made nervous dashes here and there, as if seeking escape....

“Well?” ...

Too late now!... Tönseten took a deep breath, summoned all his courage, glanced once at the minister—then turned his head away....

“I just wanted to ask you if ... well ... if it’s possible to marry a couple who are already married? Because in that case, I’d ask them to come, too.”

“You mean, they are divorced?”

“No, indeed, not divorced! Heavens! I should say not! But maybe it wasn’t done just right, you see, when the ceremony was performed....”

“I am afraid I do not understand you.”

Tönseten spat out a huge mouthful of tobacco juice, and looked up into the sky.

“You see, it happened here,” he confessed in a desperate voice, “that we had to organize the township; so we had to have officials, you see. Well, they went ahead and elected me justice of the peace.... How could I help it, I’d like to know?... And then, you see, there wasn’t a minister to be found in all Dakota Territory—there simply wasn’t one in sight!” Tönseten waved his hand with a wild gesture, still looking off into the sky.

The minister’s face expanded into a broad smile.

“And so you had to serve as minister?”

“You’ve hit it—that’s exactly what happened!... You see, this fellow, Johannes Mörstad, and his wife, they couldn’t wait any longer—they should have been married long before, for that matter. And so they pounced upon me!... I refused point blank, of course ... I have witnesses to that. But then, you see, I really was justice of the peace; and at last I had to give in.... That’s the worst sin of all!” ... Tönseten could only whisper now.

“And so you married them?” said the minister, slowly.

“Well, yes—I pitched in and did the best I could.... But now you’ve got to fix it up properly!” begged Tönseten.

The minister’s smile suddenly became a loud chuckle; Tönseten listened incredulously; that chuckle descended on the anxious old fellow like a warm shower; it gave him courage to glance again at his companion. So great was his thankfulness that the feeling surged through him: for that man he could gladly die!

He spat and sputtered, blowing his nose in stentorian tones; but he could not take his eyes off the other man’s face.

“Was it long ago?”

“It will be four years this coming fall.... It was the third Sunday after Trinity, to be exact. I put a mark in my hymn book.”

“You did what the law prescribed?”

“Of course I did!... Well, that is to say ... I’m only an ignorant man....”

“Are there any children?”

“Children! Don’t talk about it! There are three of them already, with a fourth well on the way. As far as that part of it is concerned,” Tönseten observed in all seriousness, “everything seems to have been done properly enough! But ... well, you’ll just have to do it over again!”

“No,” said the minister, still smiling, “that is your job, and I’ll have nothing to do with it. But tell them to bring the children with them.... And now see that you get started!”

“But wasn’t it a sacrilegious thing to do?”

“Yes, under normal conditions—undoubtedly. But at the time, as you say, conditions were far from normal out here, and you had been duly elected to perform certain official duties.... The Children of Israel wandered about in the desert; at first they used the barren desert for their house of worship, then came the tabernacle, finally the temple. And so with our people in this country. Such marrying practices as some people have here are sacrilegious and must be discontinued ... you’re right in that.”

“Do you think the Lord will ever forgive me?”

“That I truly believe He will! This probably is not the worst sin you have committed!” ...

Tönseten’s joy and relief were almost suffocating; he wiped his eyes as he gazed at the minister.... What a marvellously sensible man!...

“I’ll hurry right off and tell them!... But, please, I beg of you, don’t mention this at home. You see—well, Kjersti is not very strong.” ...

And now Tönseten was speeding along in great excitement from farm to farm, announcing to all the people that a pastor had come to them at last and that they must gather to hear him, he was such a wonderfully able man. And the farther and faster he went, the easier became the road and the more wonderful did the minister grow in his mind, a fact which he emphasized at every place he came to and enlarged upon whenever he could stop long enough to draw breath. And he forgot neither the children nor the hymn books; he even found other items to bring to their attention.... All the while he was thinking: Just imagine, even he could splice a couple together so that it was all right with the Lord! Well, well, that certainly was a most remarkable thing!...

III

The minister stood in the corner next to the window, arrayed in full canonicals. The gown was threadbare and badly wrinkled, as a result of its many journeys inside the old valise; the ruff might have been whiter, perhaps; but such trifles were not noticed now, for here stood a real Norwegian minister in ruff and robe!... It was undoubtedly true, what Tönseten had said about him—he was an altogether remarkable man. The vestments which he wore seemed only to emphasize the strength of his features, whose youthful vigour, in spite of the grey-streaked beard, appeared at this solemn moment to have taken on a new glow of life.

The table, spread with a white cloth, had been placed so close to the window that the minister barely had space to stand behind it; on the table stood two homemade candles, one at either end; the candlesticks, too, were homemade, cut from two four-inch pieces of sapling, with the bark left on and painted white; at a little distance they looked like curious works of art. The candles were not yet lighted; a bible and a hymn book lay between them.

The time for the meeting had come. The people filed slowly in and took their places, settling down wherever space was available; on the beds sat women crowded close together, strung along the edge like beads; these were mostly the mothers, and behind them sat and lay the children all over the beds; on the big chest eight in all had taken their seats, running from big to little; the chest had been pulled out from the wall, so that people could sit on all four sides; the six rough benches which Per Hansa and Hans Olsa had hastily nailed together were now filled to capacity, mostly by women, young children, and older people who were not able to stay on their feet so long.

The beds stood in one corner of the room, the stove in another; in the third were the minister and the table; in the fourth, and on every available part of the floor, people were packed like sardines. As many as the room would actually hold had crowded in, eager to see the minister. But not all who had come could gain an entrance; quite a crowd had to remain outdoors: some stood along the walls; others had settled down on the grass. From those outside the house came the subdued sound of talk and laughter.

The women had dressed up in their best for the occasion, and most of the men, as well; but here and there one saw a man who had come straight from his work in the fields, his face covered with sweat and grime....

In the dense cluster of people by the door some one cleared his throat loudly; another was heard to mutter that it was a good thing they didn’t have to be particular about the floor! This latter remark caused a slight disturbance in the group; a voice laughed outright, and a couple of men tried to push the people ahead of them forward a little, so that they could clear a space to spit in.... The minister glanced up sharply, searching the crowd for the one who had spoken; the youthful look on his face changed to sternness as he rapped on the table:

“Let us have silence, good people! We will begin at once.” He raised his voice: “Those who are outside must keep perfectly quiet!”

And now a deep silence descended on the closely packed room; through this silence the sound of quiet breathing rose and fell, gently yet perceptibly, like the rise and fall of a heavy ocean swell.

The pastor read the opening prayer. Then he announced the hymn which they were to sing, and himself led the singing; a few joined in at first, one voice after another straggling along, like waves on a calm sea; but before the first stanza was ended every voice had picked up the tune and the room was vibrating to a surge of mighty song. After the hymn the minister chanted, conducting the full service just as if it had been in a real church.... How wonderful it seemed!... Before long the men had to slip their coats off, it had grown so warm in the room.

The minister preached on the coming of the Israelites into the Land of Canaan. He began by reminding his hearers of the dangers which the Children of Israel had been obliged to pass through, and of the struggles and tribulations which they had been forced to endure. He set forth what had been promised them if they would remain faithful to the heritage of their fathers and obedient to the law which the Lord had given them as their guide.

Then, in powerful strokes, he sketched the history of Israel. First of all, how had the ten tribes fared? They had been taken as prisoners to a strange country; they had remained there and had forsaken their gods; and then they had disappeared, leaving no trace, like the morning dew on the face of the Great Prairie. Where were the ten tribes now? Not a word nor a sign remained of them—not even a chance name, here or there, to indicate where they must have been! Was it not significant that a whole people could disappear so completely?... How different the story of the two-tribe peoples! They, too, had been put in chains and treated as slaves; but they had been held in bonds of loyalty to their race and to Him who had nurtured them; and they had endured and prospered. And so, at last, they had come back to rebuild the ruined walls of Zion—and from their loins had sprung the Saviour of mankind!

Then the minister shifted the scene, applying the parable to those who stood before him; they, too, had wandered in search of a Land of Canaan; from the ancient home of their race they had fared forth, far away over the ocean into a foreign country; here they had settled now, here they proposed to strike root again; and here their seed would multiply from generation to generation, ages without end. True enough, they had no hostile nations to fight against—and for that they should thank the Lord! Yet there were other battles, for the powers of darkness never rested; here were the long journeys to town, with their strong temptations; here was the force of heathendom, which constantly threatened them; and here, in all probability, would soon come wealth! Here was the endless prairie, so rich in its blessings of fertility, but also full of a great loneliness—a form of freedom which curiously affected the minds of strangers, especially those to whom the Lord had given a sad heart. Even the bravest would find it hard to face and conquer the strangeness of it all, the hopeless chill, the overwhelming might of this great solitude.

The minister was now spinning out his thoughts and holding them forth in the light for the people to see; he grew in greatness and power before their watching eyes, as he showed them their own feelings during the lonely hours. But when he even came to the grasshoppers at last, then Tönseten could no longer restrain himself; he had to make manifest his approval in some way or other. With a firm hand he pushed against the back of the person in front of him, gaining the room to spit which he greatly needed; then he looked around at the others triumphantly, as if to say: “Well, didn’t I tell you—isn’t he a wonderful minister?” ... But there was no time to waste on such thoughts now!

For now the minister was busy with their future.... Did they fully understand what the Lord had given them here—and were they sufficiently grateful to Him for it?... The minister towered high and mighty before them.... In what manner had they thought to make use of the unbounded liberty which the Lord in His mercy had granted them? Here they were about to build a new kingdom—themselves to lay the foundations, themselves to raise the whole structure from the ground up. Had they begun to realize the greatness of that glorious responsibility which He had placed on their shoulders, and did they have sense enough in their heads to thank Him for it on bended knee?... He had spread before them here an opportunity the equal of which was unknown in human history; and here it would be tested out whether they could measure up to it—whether they were sprung from good stock or not—whether they were the children of free men or slaves.... Were they not glad of the chance?... Oh, they ought to sing like the birds of the plain in the morning sunrise—and then thank God, thank Him in all humility! In truth, they had not come here out of captivity and bondage—that, too, they should bear in mind in giving thanks. But they had found here the fairest promise that the Lord God had ever given to any people....

The words came with thrilling meaning; they took on a richer glow, a brighter texture, as the minister fired to his subject.... There was one point, he cried, where they and the ancient Children of Israel paralleled each other in a striking manner. For the kingdom which they were founding here would be a work of praise, a blessing to coming generations, only in so far as they remained steadfast to the truths implanted in them as children by their fathers. There was no other foundation to build upon; indeed, what other refuge did men have?... And now he stood here in their presence on this great day, a frail messenger of the Lord, to bring them this solemn question: Would they do as the ten lost tribes of Israel did, and disappear out of the world, or would they do as the two tribes had done, and never perish among men?...

The minister’s voice had sunk low, but his words bore in upon them with irresistible power; his eyes glowed with a secret light; his cheeks burned with the flush of his inspiration; all his boyish youthfulness had gone, and in its place was speaking the authority of ripe, mature experience.

The people sat and stood about while he was preaching, hanging on every word he said. Only a few were competent to climb the ladder of reasoning that he had raised for them. The others realized that he was preaching well, and let it go at that; it gave them a simple satisfaction just to listen; they rejoiced in their hearts that such a man had come here to-day; they felt that he wished them well. And it was so fine and jolly, too, this gathering together; now there would be some excitement in the settlement.... One was thinking about the congregation that they would have to organize; another about the location of the new church; still another about the cemetery, as to where it would probably be located; and to everyone the thought came that men would be needed to manage these activities; well, they would show him that they could govern themselves, that they were a well-conducted people!... One woman had it in mind that they would of course start a ladies’ aid, now that they had a minister; and that would be great fun, with meetings and cakes and coffee and sewing and all the rest; she proposed to begin some embroidering at once! But those who had not yet been confirmed dreaded the ordeal a little, though at the same time they were glad; at any rate, there would be a change in the daily monotony, and they would of course have some fine new clothes for the confirmation!... Tönseten had fallen into deep and serious thought concerning a matter of great importance—of very great importance. He was wondering how he could manage to help the minister out in the most valuable way.... Now, when the congregation was organized, they would as a matter of course have to elect a klokker!22 Well, if he had been able to splice a couple so that the knot held even before the Lord, he certainly ought to be able to serve as klokker.... He would have to see about it later on....

In the farthest corner by the stove sat a pale, delicate-featured woman, almost hidden by those in front of her. As soon as the minister began to talk she bent her head forward and a little to one side, until she had found an opening through which she could get a glimpse of his face. She listened intently to the sermon—at first with a wondering, happy look, which slowly grew skeptical and sad; all the while her eyes did not release their hold on the speaker. As the sermon progressed, the expression on her face became covert and cunning; her lips moved as if she were making objections, but no sound came.... “That! No, that shall not happen—it shall not happen!” was what the face seemed to say.... “He is playing us false ... this man ... he will lead us to something that is not good.” ...

By her side sat a man with a handsome, fair-skinned little boy in his lap; the boy had sparkling blue eyes, which flitted about from face to face, looking at everyone, laughing mischievously when the look was caught and returned.... Now and then the man laid his hand on the woman’s shoulder, as if to reassure her; then she smiled strangely; she had no time to look at him, but the smile seemed to say: “Don’t worry, he shall not deceive me.... I understand it all.... He is sly, though, isn’t he?” ...

When the hymn following the sermon had been sung, the minister said to them:

“Now, it is my advice that those who have been sitting all this time, and have the strength to stand, change places with those who have been standing; in this way we may help to bear one another’s burdens. Let the change be made with order and decency.... We shall now perform the holy act of baptism. I should appreciate it if all you grown people would remain, and thus call to mind your own sacred covenant with the Lord.... First let all unbaptized children come forward; and afterward those who have been christened at home.”

At this a considerable disturbance arose in the crowd; some people got up and pushed their way out of the door, talking in low tones as they squeezed through the throng; at the same time several who had remained outside during the sermon pushed their way in; hitherto they had heard only the voice, but now they wanted to get a glimpse of the man....

Sörine came in with a basin of water which she placed on the table, and laid a clean towel beside it.

Those who were to hold the children now took them in their arms and came forward; the sponsors stood up and looked around; there was scant room to move in the stifling crush, and several people had to go out at this moment; but little by little the disorder subsided, so that the ceremony could begin.

Most of the grown people knew the baptismal hymn by heart, and although the air was heavy and close in the crowded hut, the singing rose with great fervour. There were fourteen children who had not been baptized, one of them only three weeks old—a tiny being whose arrival had been looked for in the fond hope that it might turn out to be a baby girl, as indeed it had, and who now lay sweetly sleeping in its mother’s arms.

The first child to be baptized was four years old—a big, fat, dark-haired, hungry lump of a boy, who talked out loud and wanted to get down and run over to his mother. He didn’t seem to appreciate in the least what was about to be done for him, and aroused a good deal of merriment among the onlookers. However, the ceremony soon went on with all proper calm and decorum.... Josie, the one for whom Tönseten had performed the marriage rite, came last of all; she had three children, and had striven hard to get them ready for this service; she carried the youngest in her own arms. Tönseten regarded her and her offspring with a certain fatherly pride, and folded his hands devoutly as she came forward.

Then came three children who had been privately baptized by laymen. Sörine advanced first, holding up for his second christening the child at whose birth she had been present and for whom she had once before stood sponsor; the boy awakened in the arms of his godmother, turning two bright blue eyes toward the minister; he laughed aloud and asked Sörine who that man was with the whiskers and the long black skirt? Sörine tried by petting him to hush him up.... “He doesn’t have any pants!” said the boy, still laughing and putting his arms around her neck; those who stood near enough to overhear were doubled up with mirth.

But as the pastor asked the child’s name and she gave it, and he repeated it clearly and distinctly, so as to be heard throughout the room—“Peder Victorious, dost thou renounce—” ... something extraordinary happened. From out that pale face over in the corner came a sound of anguish. Beret rose up and pushed her way violently through the crowd, which moved aside in sudden alarm to let her pass, then closed immediately in behind her; Per Hansa tried to follow, but found it hard to make a passage through the throng, which now was crowding forward in order to get a better view; and all at once her voice, shrill and vibrant, pierced the room: “This evil deed shall not be done!” ... She was already halfway there. Some blocked her passage; others tried to silence her.... “Oh, let me go!” she cried. “This sin shall not happen! How can a man be victorious out here, where the evil one gets us all!... Are you all stark mad?” Her cries were shrill and piercing; they rose with a wild tremor of anguish, striking terror into the hearts of the men who stood about, not knowing what to do; the women hid their faces and did not dare to look; some of the weaker-nerved began to weep hysterically; on one of the beds a little girl had thrown herself face downward, crying and screaming; two half-grown boys, overcome by the horror of it, silently pressed their cheeks against the sod wall; the doorway was now crowded with curious faces, one tier above another. All wanted to see what was going on.

The minister paused in the service.

“Take your wife outside, Peder Holm! The air in here is close and bad for a sick person. I will talk to her afterward.... And the rest of you—please keep quiet!”

It took some time to calm the morbid excitement. Per Hansa had finally reached Beret; he lifted her in his arms, but the people crowded around so densely that it was difficult to get through, and all the while Beret was striking out wildly, pulling and pushing in a frantic effort to escape. She foamed at the mouth.... “This is the work of the devil!” she muttered through clenched teeth.... “Now he will surely take my little boy!... God save us—we perish!”

The meeting lasted inordinately long. When the pastor was finally through he announced divine services again two weeks from the following Sunday; at that time he would return to them and conduct Communion. “There must be many of you who need to unburden your hearts before your God and Father in Heaven!” he went on impressively. “We shall begin the service here in this room, promptly at eleven o’clock.” Hesitating for a moment, he looked around at the people and a tired smile crossed his face; in a lower voice he continued: “It would not be amiss, I think, if you men were to dress up a little; to the Lord it makes no difference, but it would seem more like the Lord’s day for you, and you would be edified thereby.”

IV

After the service the people remained standing around in groups out in the yard, talking about the minister and the sermon, and discussing in low tones the sad thing that had happened that day. The latter event claimed most of their attention. Everyone felt great sympathy for this family on whom adversity had laid such a heavy hand; some thought it was very wrong for Per Hansa to keep a person like Beret at home; a tragedy might happen at any time—and then it would be too late; various incidents of this kind were recalled; some remembered also that Per Hansa himself was a hard-hearted sinner who needed serious admonition; but they were all sorry for him, just the same.

None of the people of the house were to be seen. The crowd outside stood looking around, as if waiting for something to happen; no one wanted to leave until he knew....

A few women were still inside the house; they had planned to stay and help put things in order. Among them was Sörine, still carrying the child in her arms. The women were plainly anxious and disturbed; they talked in subdued voices, and couldn’t seem to take hold of the work with any heart.

The minister had seated himself at the table, folded his hands, and laid his head upon them; thus he sat for a long while in silence; then, as if noticing the people in the room for the first time, he got up and walked over to the group of women.

“I would suggest,” he said, gently, “that you all go home. Only let some one of you who is well acquainted here remain to help; if more are needed, we will send for you.... Let me have that fine little boy awhile,” he said to Sörine.... “Of course, I think it would be better if you all came often to see her, but never more than one at a time. And never ask her how she is feeling; just take it for granted that everything is as it should be. To me, things do not look entirely hopeless here; I believe it will all come right in the end. Yes, I truly believe it.” ... He took the boy on his knee, and began to play with him.

“God grant that it might happen as he says!” sighed Kjersti.

The minister heard her.

“In His name, nothing is impossible!... Now I should leave at once, if I were you. Let the one who is best acquainted here, stay behind.”

Then the minister took the boy in his arms and went out into the yard; he approached each group standing there, talked to them quietly, and advised them to go home and keep to themselves as much as they could.... “For the word of God,” he said, “is like seed put into the ground; it must be undisturbed, if it is to germinate and bear fruit; but if it is too deeply covered, it will fail.” ...

“We were just talking about organizing a congregation, you see.” The speaker looked in astonishment at the minister. Could it be wrong to discuss that idea?

“The time for that will come later on, without a doubt.” ... The minister raised his voice.... “Now I will ask each one of you kindly to go to his own home, remain quiet the rest of the day, and think about what you have heard.”

“Well, yes—that’s probably all right, of course ... but anyhow....”

The minister turned away and went to another group; the man had to quit talking and make the best of it. But he thought to himself: this must be a funny sort of minister who hasn’t time to discuss such an important matter as organizing a congregation!

Group after group broke up and melted away; people moved slowly homeward, and soon there was no one left in the yard; the day had closed and night was fast coming on.

The minister remained outside for some time, walking about the yard, still clad in his canonical robe; the boy toddled along beside him, hanging on to the black gown as if it were a great joke, and thoroughly enjoying himself with this queer man.

At length the minister bent his steps toward the new sod stable, from which seemed to come the sound of voices and the whimpering cry of a child; he took up the boy in his arms, went over to the door, pushed it open, and stepped inside. The room had no windows; it was so dark in there that as he peered about, coming straight from the twilight, he could not make out the objects clearly. He was at once aware, however, of the presence of people; he walked farther in, looking around for what he knew was there.

They were sitting on a bundle of hay—Per Hansa and Beret, she with her face pressed close against his, he with one arm about her neck and the other about her waist; And-Ongen clung to her father’s shoulder, her arms clasped tightly around his neck.

“The sweet peace of God be upon you!” said the pastor, gently, as soon as he had discovered them. “The people have all gone. And now, Mother Holm, I should like very much to have you cook us a good cup of coffee, if there is any in your house; I want to take supper with you.”

The sound of his voice startled Beret. She sat up, brushed her hair back, and looked around with a puzzled expression. She felt abashed, just like a modest person with too few clothes on who unexpectedly finds himself in the presence of others.

“Oh, is this where we are?” she muttered, bending over and covering her eyes.

“I want something to eat!” cried the boy, tearing himself from the minister as soon as he heard his mother’s voice.

She seized the child frantically and hugged him close to her; pushing her face down in the hollow of his neck, she drank and drank....

“No, no, Beret—don’t be so violent!” begged her husband. “Please be careful!”

Then she threw back her head, the pale face flushed and distorted. “Am I not to love my own child!”

The minister came up to her and laid his hand on her head.

“That’s quite right, Mother Holm! Love him all you can; but do not forget to thank Him who has given you this precious gift. There is the promise of a splendid man in that fine boy; you will surely have much joy in him!”

Beret ceased caressing the boy and sat bent over him, listening to the words of the minister. Then she rose hurriedly and smoothed down her dress; again the minister got the impression that in some curious way she felt ashamed. Without saying a word, she took a child by either hand and walked out of the stable.

Per Hansa remained sitting on the pile of hay, resting his head on one hand; his hair and beard were unkempt, and quite grizzled now; his face was deeply furrowed, as if by the marks of a ruthless hand; his whole figure seemed fearfully ravaged and broken, like a forest maple shattered by a storm.

The minister sat down beside him; he began to confess Per Hansa with all the gentleness of a sympathetic and understanding pastor.

“Now tell me everything. Two can carry what one alone cannot lift. Tell me everything from the beginning.”

Without changing his position, Per Hansa looked down at the hay, sighed, and began to talk in broken accents: “I don’t understand it myself, you see.... I only know that damnation has come down upon us.... It can’t continue much longer—I’ll probably have to send her away.” Again he sighed, and then became silent.

It seemed to the minister as if the sum total of human tragedy sat talking to him.... A chill had entered the dimly lighted room.

“Perhaps you are right ... otherwise, the cross might become too heavy for you to bear!”

A long pause fell.

“But she is not entirely deranged, is she?”

“Partly or entirely—what difference does it make? If the fiddle is cracked, it’s cracked....”

“Maybe so ... yes, yes....”

Still looking down at the hay, Per Hansa continued:

“I don’t know that I am guilty of any other wrong toward her than that our oldest boy came before we were married; but in that matter we were equally to blame.... And then I brought her out here. I suppose that there is where the real trouble lies.... I don’t believe she grieves much about that other affair.... No, it’s this business out here—and for the life of me I can’t see any sin in it.”

“I think I understand,” said the minister, gently.

“But is a man to refuse to go where his whole future calls, only because his wife doesn’t like it?” ... The question sprang out of Per Hansa’s soul, as if he were for the first time opening the door to many years of pent-up suffering. He turned his strong, resolute face toward the minister, begging for an answer.

“Indeed he may, my good man,” said the minister, earnestly. “But it would be better if they were both agreed upon it.”

“Agreed, yes—easy enough to say!... When the only disagreement, for instance, was that she advised waiting another year!... And it isn’t so much what she has said since we came out here.... Now. I wish you would tell me—” Per Hansa spoke softly, almost diffidently. “Suppose a husband and wife cannot agree—what, then, is he to do?”

The minister felt through the question the aching need of the man for relief and comfort.

“Therefore shall a man leave his father and mother, and shall be joined unto his wife, and they two shall be one flesh,” he quoted. “There you have the Lord’s decree. But if the law applies to man, it must apply to woman as well. Between you two there has, as I understand it, been no real disagreement?”

Per Hansa shook his head; the words came with great difficulty:

“I sometimes wonder if there ever were two people who cared quite as much for each other as we do.... But that hasn’t made things any easier; you can’t lift the ocean, whether it rages in a storm or lies quiet in a flat calm.... And now, please tell me, you who are a minister and understand the Scriptures, What is the man to do?” Per Hansa grasped the minister by the arm, clutching hard in his terrible agitation.

“He shall humble himself before the Lord his God, and shall take up his cross to bear it with patience!” said the minister, impressively.

“Ha-ha!” Per Hansa suddenly burst out in a bitter laugh. “That’s too scanty a fare for me to live on. You’d better put that kind of talk aside.... I ask as an ignorant man, and I must have an answer that I can understand: Did I do right or did I do wrong when I brought her out here? And what should I have done instead, when I saw nothing else ahead of me in the world?”

“That time you undoubtedly did right, my good man, if what you have told me is true; a man must go whither his heart and mind lead him, unless the Lord comes and says no.... You did right that time; but since then you have let yourself sink into the mire of a great sin, as I am told. And now you grumble—like those Israelites of yore—because the Lord is leading you on paths that you do not wish to follow.... You are not willing to bear your cross with humility!”

“No, I am not; and let me tell you something more.” Per Hansa’s voice hardened. “We find other things to do out here than to carry crosses!” Then he fell silent. The minister tried to find words with which to reprove him; but in a moment Per Hansa began again—and now it was he who rebuked the minister: “My experience has been that it is mighty easy for one to talk about things he has not tried!... I have sweat blood over this thing—and now I’m no longer equal to it.... Have you ever thought what it means for a man to be in constant fear that the mother may do away with her own children—and that, besides, it may be his fault that she has fallen into that state of mind?”

When the minister finally answered, he had become all gentleness again. “No, thanks and praise to God, such affliction He has spared me!” He put one arm over Per Hansa’s shoulder. “Tell me how all this came about.”

Per Hansa sat for a while without answering; he seemed like a man trying to climb a steep hill, whose strength has given out; all at once he got up and went over to the door, standing there and looking out a long time into the darkness of the night. The minister followed him....

“There isn’t much to say about such things,” Per Hansa began. “She has never felt at home here in America.... There are some people, I know now, who never should emigrate, because, you see, they can’t take pleasure in that which is to come—they simply can’t see it!... And yet, she has never reproached me. And in spite of everything, we got along fairly well up to the time when our last child was born.... Yes, the one you baptized to-day.... Then she took a notion that she was going to die—but I didn’t understand it at the time.... She has never had the habit of fault-finding.... She struggled hard when the child was born, and we all thought she wouldn’t survive—or him, either. That’s why we had to baptize him at once. In my heedless joy, after the worst was over and things had turned out all right, I went and gave him that second name.... And then everything seemed to go to pieces!”

“That name ...?”

“Yes, the second name. It was very wrong of me, I know. I see that now.”

“What are you saying, man? Such a beautiful name!”

Per Hansa looked at him.... “Do you really mean it?”

“Of course I mean it! It is the handsomest name I can ever remember giving to any child. Peder Victorious—why, it sings like a beautiful melody!”

“Please tell me—is it really a human name? And wasn’t it a sacrilege on my part?” asked Per Hansa, incredulously, hardly daring yet to acknowledge his joy.

“My dear man, have you worried about that, too?”

“Have I?... Don’t mention it!... You mean that the name is all right?”

“Yes, indeed,” said the minister without hesitation. “There is nothing unusual about it, except that you have happened to find a more beautiful form than I have yet heard; the name itself is common in all languages.”

Per Hansa gazed at the minister, bringing his face close up in order to see him better in the growing dusk of the evening. Slowly his eyes began to light with a new courage; he took a deep breath, and straightened his body up for the first time in many a long day.

“I must ask you again, for I am an ignorant man: Is this really true?... And won’t you please tell her the same thing, too—as soon as you can?”

“I certainly will.... So she does not like the name?”

“No; that’s the trouble.... She believes it is an idea that the devil himself has given me in order to get us more completely in his power—but this we didn’t realize before her mind began to cloud. Now she can’t bear to hear the name; that’s why the attack came on her this afternoon, when you fastened it on the boy for good.... I was afraid, too, that something like that might happen.”

“Well, well! Is this possible? How long has she had these attacks?”

“It began with the grasshoppers.... However, she’s always had the heavy heart to fight against.... And then, those fears of hers—just utter fancies! Can you understand how a person gets possessed by fear, right on the level, solid ground?”

“You say it began with the grasshoppers?”

“Well, sir, I came home from work one evening to find a crazy woman!... She thought it was the devil himself who had cast the plague upon us—and maybe she wasn’t far wrong in that, either!... Pretty soon she began to see visions of her mother, who had been dead for some time then, though we hadn’t got the news....”

“What’s that you are saying?”

“Yes, sir, she saw her mother; and, will you believe it, she knew that her mother was dead half a year before the letter came!... Oh, you can’t imagine how bad it was!” The terrors that he had lived through seemed fairly to choke him as he remembered the awful scenes.

“She could not have actually seen a dead person! She must have been seriously deranged.”

“Yes—may God help us!—she both saw her and talked with her!... One night I lay asleep, the first summer after the grasshoppers had come. I had saved my whole crop and got it in. Suddenly I was awakened by some one talking aloud in the room. And there she was, pacing back and forth in the middle of the floor and talking to her mother, exactly as though she were sitting by her side.... I know that she saw her, I tell you; and the child—she was carrying the child in her arms!” ... Per Hansa’s breath failed him for a moment.... “‘It’s no use, mother,’ she said. ‘The boy can’t come to you with a name that Satan has tricked Per into giving him!’ Those were the very words she used. I got up, lighted a candle, and as I watched her pacing there, with the little fellow in her arms, then, at last, I saw how it was with her ... I saw it then. Until that time I had refused to believe it.... Pastor,” whispered Per Hansa, “do you know what it means to feel the skin creep up your back?” ...

“Did she try to harm the child?”

“Not then.” He shook his head. “I can’t say whether she had such thoughts or not; but she took the notion that her mother wanted the child with her.... The rest came later.” Per Hansa pulled himself together with a strong effort.... “It will be two years this summer; it happened toward evening, one day when the grasshoppers came in such numbers that it was hard to see the sky. If Sörrina, our neighbour woman, hadn’t been making us a visit, it’s hard telling ... but there she sat, holding the child.”