The Rider on the White Horse | Page 9

from afar because of the high mound on which it stood, and especially because of the highest tree in the village, a mighty ash. The grandfather of the present dikemaster, the first of the line, had in his youth planted an ash to the east of the house door; but the first two had died, and so he had planted a third on his wedding morning, which was still murmuring as if of old times in the increasing wind with its crown of foliage that was growing mightier and mightier.
When, after a while, tall, lank Hauke climbed up the hill which was planted on both sides with beets and cabbage, he saw the daughter of the owner standing beside the low house door. One of her somewhat thin arms was hanging down languidly, the other seemed to be grasping behind her back at one of the iron rings which were fastened to the wall on either side of the door, so that anyone who rode to the house could use them to hitch his horse. From there the young girl seemed to be gazing over the dike at the sea, where on this calm evening the sun was just sinking into the water and at the same time gilding the dark-skinned maiden with its last golden glow.
Hauke climbed up the hill a little more slowly, and thought to himself: "She doesn't look so dull this way!" Then he was at the top. "Good evening to you!" he said, stepping up to her. "What are you looking at with your big eyes, Miss Elke?"
"I'm looking," she replied, "at something that goes on here every night, but can't be seen here every night." She let the ring drop from her hand, so that it fell against the wall with a clang. "What do you want, Hauke Haien?" she asked.
"Something that I hope you don't mind," he said. "Your father has just discharged his hired man; so I thought I would take a job with you."
She glanced at him, up and down: "You are still rather lanky, Hauke!" she said, "but two steady eyes serve us better than two steady arms!" At the same time she looked at him almost sombrely, but Hauke bravely withstood her gaze. "Come on, then," she continued. "The master is in his room; let's go inside."
The next day Tede Haien stepped with his son into the spacious room of the dikemaster. The walls were covered with glazed tiles on which the visitor could enjoy her a ship with sails unfurled or an angler on the shore, there a cow that lay chewing in front of a peasant's house. This durable wall-covering was interrupted by an alcove-bed with doors now closed, and a cupboard which showed all kinds of china and silver dishes through glass doors. Beside the door to the "best room" a Dutch clock was set into the wall behind a pane of glass.
The stout, somewhat apoplectic master of the house sat at the end of the well-scrubbed, shining table in an armchair with a bright-coloured cushion. He had folded his hands across his stomach, and was staring contentedly with his round eyes at the skeleton of a fat duck; knife and fork were resting in front of him on his plate.
"Good day, dikemaster!" said Haien, and the gentleman thus addressed slowly turned his head and eyes toward him.
"You here, Tede?" he replied, and the devoured fat duck had left its mark on his voice. "Sit down; it is quite a walk from your place over here!"
"I have come, dikemaster," said Tede Haien, while he sat down opposite the other in a corner on the bench that ran along the wall. "You have had trouble with your hired man and have agreed with my boy to put him in his place!"
The dikemaster nodded: "Yes, yes, Tede; but--what do you mean by trouble? We people of the marshes, thank goodness, have something to take against troubles!"--and he took the knife before him and patted the skeleton of the poor duck almost affectionately. "This was my pet bird," he added laughing smugly; "he fed out of my hand!"
"I thought," said old Haien, not hearing the last remark, "the boy had done harm in your stable."
"Harm? Yes, Tede; surely harm enough! That fat clown hadn't watered the calves; but he lay drunk on the hayloft, and the beasts bellowed all night with thirst, so that I had to make up my lost sleep till noon; that's not the way a farm can go on!"
"No, dikemaster; but there is no danger of that happening with my boy."
Hauke stood, his hands in his pockets, by the door-post, and had thrown back his head and was studying the window frames opposite him.
The dikemaster had raised his eyes and nodded toward him: "No, no,