Pelle the Conqueror, vol 4 | Page 4

"Let's see whether it's a good one. They're a fearful lot of thieves on the
market in there."
The boy handed him the coin. "Ah, yes, it's one of those that you can
break in half and make two of," said Ferdinand, doing a few juggling
tricks with it. "I suppose I may keep one?" His expression had become
lively and he winked maliciously at Pelle as he stood playing with the
coin so that it appeared to be two. "There you are; that's yours," he said,
pressing the piece of money firmly into the boy's hand. "Take good
care of it, so that you don't get a scolding from your mother."
The boy opened his empty hand in wonderment. "Give me my
two-krone!" he said, smiling uncertainly.
"What the devil--I've given it you once!" said Ferdinand, pushing the
boy aside roughly and beginning to walk on.
The boy followed him and begged persistently for his money. Then he
began to cry.
"Give him his money!" said Pelle crossly. "It's not amusing now."
"Amusing?" exclaimed Ferdinand, stopping abruptly and gazing at him
in amazement. "Do you think I play for small sums? What do I care
about the boy! He may take himself off; I'm not his father."
Pelle looked at him a moment without comprehending; then he took a

paper containing a few silver coins out of his waistcoat pocket, and
handed the boy two krones. The boy stood motionless with amazement
for a moment, but then, seizing the money, he darted away as quickly
as he could go.
Ferdinand went on, growling to himself and blinking his eyes.
Suddenly he stopped and exclaimed: "I'll just tell you as a warning that
if it wasn't you, and because I don't want to have this day spoiled, I'd
have cracked your skull for you; for no one else would have played me
that trick. Do you understand?" And he stood still again and pushed his
heavy brow close to Pelle's face.
Quick as thought, Pelle seized him by his collar and trousers, and threw
him forcibly onto a heap of stones. "That's the second time to-day that
you've threatened to crack my skull," he said in fury, pounding
Ferdinand's head against the stones. For a few moments he held him
down firmly, but then released him and helped him to rise. Ferdinand
was crimson in the face, and stood swaying, ready to throw himself
upon Pelle, while his gaze wandered round in search of a weapon. Then
he hesitatingly drew the two-krone piece out of his pocket, and handed
it to Pelle in sign of subjection.
"You may keep it," said Pelle condescendingly.
Ferdinand quickly pocketed it again, and began to brush the mud off
his clothes. "The skilly in there doesn't seem to have weakened you
much," he said, shaking himself good-naturedly as they went on.
"You've still got a confounded hard hand. But what I can't understand is
why you should be so sorry for a hobbledehoy like that. He can take
care of himself without us."
"Weren't you once sorry too for a little fellow when some one wanted
to take his money away from him?"
"Oh, that little fellow in the 'Ark' who was going to fetch the medicine
for his mother? That's such a long time ago!"
"You got into difficulties with the police for his sake! It was the first
time you were at odds with the authorities, I think."
"Well, the boy hadn't done anything; I saw that myself. So I hobbled
the copper that was going to run him in. His mother was ill--and my old
'un was alive; and so I was a big idiot! You'll see you won't get far with
your weak pity. Do we owe any one anything, I should like to know?"
"Yes, I do," said Pelle, suddenly raising his face toward the light. "But I

can't say you've much to thank any one for."
"What confounded nonsense!" exclaimed Ferdinand, staring at him.
"Have they been good to you, did you say? When they shut you up in
prison too, perhaps? You're pretending to be good, eh? You stop that!
You'll have to go farther into the country with it. So you think you
deserved your house-of-correction turn, while another was only
suffering the blackest injustice? Nonsense! They know well enough
what they're doing when they get hold of me, but they might very well
have let you off. You got together fifty thousand men, but what did you
all do, I should like to know? You didn't make as much disturbance as a
mouse in a pair of lady's unmentionables. Well-to-do people are far
more afraid of me than of you and all your fellows together. Injustice!
Oh, shut up and don't slobber! You give no quarter, and