Pelle the Conqueror Part 86

Hanne laughed loudly. "She expects him every Sunday, but she has never seen him yet!"

"Well, well, that's hardly a thing to laugh about," said the old woman.

"She's happy in her delusions, and her pension keeps her from need."

III

Pelle awoke to find Hanne standing by his bed and pulling his nose, and imitating his comical grimaces. She had come in over the roof. "Why are you stopping here, you?" she said eagerly. "We are waiting for you!"

"I can't get up!" replied Pelle piteously. "Pipman went out overnight with my trousers on and hasn't come back, so I lay down to sleep again!"

Hanne broke into a ringing laugh. "What if he never comes back at all?

You'll have to lie in bed always, like Mother Jahn!"

At this Pelle laughed too.

"I really don't know what I shall do! You must just go without me."

"No, that we shan't!" said Hanne very decidedly. "No, we'll fetch the picnic-basket and spread the things on your counterpane! After all, it's green! But wait now, I know what!" And she slipped through the back door and out on to the roof. Half an hour later she came again and threw a pair of striped trousers on the bed. "He's obliging, is Herr Klodsmajor!

Now just hurry yourself a bit. I ran round to see the hea.r.s.e-driver's Marie, where she works, and she gave me a pair of her master's week-day breeches. But she must have them again early to-morrow morning, so that his lordship doesn't notice it."

Directly she had gone Pelle jumped into the trousers. Just as he was ready he heard a terrific creaking of timbers. The Pipman was coming up the stairs. He held the rope in one hand, and at every turn of the staircase he bowed a few times outward over the rope. The women were shrieking in the surrounding galleries and landings. That amused him.

His big, venerable head beamed with an expression of sublime joy.

"Ah, hold your tongue!" he said good-naturedly, as soon as he set eyes on Pelle. "You hold your tongue!" He propped himself up in the doorway and stood there staring.

Pelle seized him by the collar. "Where are my Sunday trousers?" he asked angrily. The Pipman had the old ones on, but where were the new?

The Pipman stared at him uncomprehending, his drowsy features working in the effort to disinter some memory or other. Suddenly he whistled.

"Trousers, did you say, young man? What, what? Did you really say trousers? And you ask me where your trousers have got to? Then you might have said so at once! Because, d'you see, your bags ... I've ... yes ...

why, I've p.a.w.ned them!"

"You've p.a.w.ned my best trousers?" cried Pelle, so startled that he loosed his hold.

"Yes, by G.o.d, that's what I did! You can look for yourself--there's no need to get so hot about it! You can't eat me, you know. That goes without saying. Yes, that's about it. One just mustn't get excited!"

"You're a scoundrelly thief!" cried Pelle. "That's what you are!"

"Now, now, comrade, always keep cool! Don't shout yourself hoa.r.s.e.

Nothing's been taken by me. Pipman's a respectable man, I tell you.

Here, you can see for yourself! What'll you give me for that, eh?"

He had taken the p.a.w.nticket from his pocket and held it out to Pelle, deeply offended.

Pelle fingered his collar nervously; he was quite beside himself with rage. But what was the use? And now Hanne and her mother had come out over yonder. Hanne was wearing a yellow straw hat with broad ribbons.

She looked bewitching; the old lady had the lunch-basket on her arm. She locked the door carefully and put the key under the doorstep. Then they set out.

There was no reasoning with this sot of a Pipman! He edged round Pelle with an uncertain smile, gazed inquisitively into his face, and kept carefully just out of his reach. "You're angry, aren't you?" he said confidingly, as though he had been speaking to a little child.

"Dreadfully angry? But what the devil do you want with two pairs of trousers, comrade? Yes, what do you want with two pairs of trousers?"

His voice sounded quite bewildered and reproachful.

Pelle pulled out a pair of easy-looking women's shoes from under his bed, and slipped out through the inner door. He squeezed his way between the steep roof and the back wall of the room, ducked under a beam or two, and tumbled into the long gangway which ran between the roof-buildings and had rooms on either side of it. A loud buzzing sound struck suddenly on his ears. The doors of all the little rooms stood open on to the long gangway, which served as a common livingroom.

Wrangling and chattering and the crying of children surged together in a deafening uproar; here was the life of a bee-hive. Here it's really lively, thought Pelle. To-morrow I shall move over here! He had thought over this for a long time, and now there should be an end of his lodging with Pipman.

In front of one of the doors stood a little eleven-years-old maiden, who was polishing a pair of plump-looking boy's boots; she wore an ap.r.o.n of sacking which fell down below her ankles, so that she kept treading on it. Within the room two children of nine and twelve were moving backward and forward with mighty strides, their hands in their pockets. Then enjoyed Sundays. In their clean shirt-sleeves, they looked like a couple of little grown-up men. This was the "Family"; they were Pelle's rescuers.

"Here are your shoes, Marie," said Pelle. "I couldn't do them any better."

She took them eagerly and examined the soles. Pelle had repaired them with old leather, and had therefore polished the insteps with cobbler's wax. "They're splendid now!" she whispered, and she looked at him gratefully. The boys came and shook hands with Pelle. "What will the shoes cost?" asked the elder, feeling for his purse with a solemn countenance.

"We'd better let that stand over, Peter; I'm in a hurry to-day," said Pelle, laughing. "We'll put it on the account until the New Year."

"I'm going out, too, to-day with the boys," said Marie, beaming with delight. "And you are going to the woods with Hanne and her mother, we know all about it!" Hopping and skipping, she accompanied him to the steps, and stood laughing down at him. To-day she was really like a child; the shrewd, old, careful woman was as though cast to the winds.

"You can go down the main staircase," she cried.

A narrow garret-stairs led down to the main staircase, which lay inside the building and was supposed to be used only by those who lived on the side facing the street. This was the fashionable portion of the "Ark"; here lived old sea-dogs, shipbuilders, and other folks with regular incomes. The tradesmen who rented the cellars--the coal merchant, the old iron merchant, and the old clothes dealer, also had their dwellings here.

These dwellings were composed of two splendid rooms; they had no kitchen or entry, but in a corner of the landing on the main staircase, by the door, each family had a sink with a little board cover. When the cover was on one could use the sink as a seat; this was very convenient.

The others had almost reached the Knippels Bridge when he overtook them.

"What a long time you've been!" said Hanne, as she took his arm. "And how's the 'Family?' Was Marie pleased with the shoes? Poor little thing, she hasn't been out for two Sundays because she had no soles to her shoes."

"She had only to come to me; I'm ever so much in her debt!"

"No, don't you believe she'd do that. The 'Family' is proud. I had to go over and steal the shoes somehow!"

"Poor little things!" said Madam Johnsen, "it's really touching to see how they hold together! And they know how to get along. But why are you taking Pelle's arm, Hanne? You don't mean anything by it."

"Must one always mean something by it, little mother? Pelle is my young man to-day, and has to protect me."

"Good Lord, what is he to protect you from? From yourself, mostly, and that's not easy!"

"Against a horde of robbers, who will fall upon me in the forest and carry me away. And you'll have to pay a tremendous ransom!"

"Good Lord, I'd much rather pay money to get rid of you! If I had any money at all! But have you noticed how blue the sky is? It's splendid with all this sun on your back--it warms you right through the c.o.c.kles of your heart."

At the Triangle they took an omnibus and bowled along the sea-front. The vehicle was full of cheerful folk; they sat there laughing at a couple of good-natured citizens who were perspiring and hurling silly witticisms at one another. Behind them the dust rolled threateningly, and hung in a lazy cloud round the great black waterb.u.t.ts which stood on their high trestles along the edge of the road. Out in the Sound the boats lay with sails outspread, but did not move; everything was keeping the Sabbath.

In the Zoological Gardens it was fresh and cool. The beech-leaves still retained their youthful brightness, and looked wonderfully light and festive against the century-old trunks. "Heigh, how beautiful the forest is!" cried Pelle. "It is like an old giant who has taken a young bride!"

He had never been in a real beech-wood before. One could wander about here as in a church. There were lots of other people here as well; all Copenhagen was on its legs in this fine weather. The people were as though intoxicated by the sunshine; they were quite boisterous, and the sound of their voices lingered about the tree-tops and only challenged them to give vent to their feelings. People went strolling between the tree-trunks and amusing themselves in their own way, laying about them with great boughs and shouting with no other object than to hear their own voices. On the borders of the wood, a few men were standing and singing in chorus; they wore white caps, and over the gra.s.sy meadows merry groups were strolling or playing touch or rolling in the gra.s.s like young kittens.

Madam Johnsen walked confidently a few steps in advance; she was the most at home out here and led the way. Pelle and Hanne walked close together, in order to converse. Hanne was silent and absent; Pelle took her hand in order to make her run up a hillock, but she did not at first notice that he was touching her, and the hand was limp and clammy. She walked on as in a sleep, her whole bearing lifeless and taciturn.

"She's dreaming!" said Pelle, and released her hand, offended. It fell lifelessly to her side.

The old woman turned round and looked about her with beaming eyes.

"The forest hasn't been so splendid for many years," she said. "Not since I was a young girl."