The Great Hunger | Page 8

"You'll see," they would say, "that father of yours will get
you on; you'll be a parson yet, ay, maybe a bishop, too." At Christmas,
there came a ten-crown note all for himself, to do just as he liked with.
Peer changed it into silver, so that his purse was near bursting with
prosperity. No wonder he began to go about with his nose in the air,
and play the little prince and chieftain among the boys. Even Klaus
Brock, the doctor's son, made up to him, and taught him to play cards.
But-- "You surely don't mean to go and be a parson," he would say.
For all this, no one could say that Peer was too proud to help with the
fishing, or make himself useful in the smithy. But when the sparks flew
showering from the glowing iron, he could not help seeing visions of
his own--visions that flew out into the future. Aye, he WOULD be a
priest. He might be a sinner now, and a wild young scamp; he certainly
did curse and swear like a trooper at times, if only to show the other
boys that it was all nonsense about the earth opening and swallowing
you up. But a priest he would be, all the same. None of your parsons
with spectacles and a pot belly: no, but a sort of heavenly messenger
with snowy white robes and a face of glory. Perhaps some day he might
even come so far that he could go down into that place of torment
where his mother lay, and bring her up again, up to salvation. And
when, in autumn evenings, he stood outside his palace, a white-haired
bishop, he would lift up his finger, and all the stars should break into
song.
Clang, clang, sang the anvil under the hammer's beat.
In the still summer evenings a troop of boys go climbing up the naked
slopes towards the high wooded ranges to fetch home the cows for the
milking. The higher they climb, the farther and farther their sight can
travel out over the sea. And an hour or two later, as the sun goes down,
here comes a long string of red-flanked cattle trailing down, with a faint
jangle of bells, over the far- off ridges. The boys halloo them

on--"Ohoo-oo-oo!"--and swing their ringed rowan staves, and spit red
juice of the alder bark that they are chewing as men chew tobacco. Far
below them they see the farm lands, grey in shadow, and, beyond, the
waters of the fjord, yellow in the evening light, a mirror where red
clouds and white sails and hills of liquid blue are shining. And away
out on the farthest headland, the lonely star of the coast light over the
grey sea.
On such an evening Peer came down from the hills just in time to see a
gentleman in a carriole turn off from the highway and take the by-road
down towards Troen. The horse balked suddenly at a small bridge, and
when the driver reined him in and gave him a cut with his whip, the
beast reared, swung about, and sent the cart fairly dancing round on its
high wheels. "Oh, well, then, I'll have to walk," cried the gentleman
angrily, and, flinging the reins to the lad behind him, he jumped down.
Just at this moment Peer came up.
"Here, boy," began the traveller, "just take this bag, will you? And--"
He broke off suddenly, took a step backward, and looked hard at the
boy. "What--surely it can't be-- Is it you, Peer?"
"Ye-es," said Peer, gaping a little, and took off his cap.
"Well, now, that's funny. My name is Holm. Well, well--well, well!"
The lad in the cart had driven off, and the gentleman from the city and
the pale country boy with the patched trousers stood looking at each
other.
The newcomer was a man of fifty or so, but still straight and active,
though his hair and close-trimmed beard were sprinkled with grey. His
eyes twinkled gaily under the brim of his black felt hat; his long
overcoat was open, showing a gold chain across his waistcoat. With a
pair of gloves and an umbrella in one hand, a light travelling bag in the
other, and his beautifully polished shoes--a grand gentleman, thought
Peer, if ever there was one. And this was his father!
"So that's how you look, my boy? Not very big for your age--nearly

sixteen now, aren't you? Do they give you enough to eat?"
"Yes," said Peer, with conviction.
The pair walked down together, towards the grey cottage by the fjord.
Suddenly the man stopped, and looked at it through half- shut eyes.
"Is that where you've been living all these years?"
"Yes."
"In that little hut there?"