Pelle the Conqueror by Martin Andersen Nexø (great novels to read .TXT) 📕

at him; “I can’t think why. She’s terribly ill! I’ve sent Lasse Frederik in to Morten, so that he may know she’s with us.”

“Have you sent for the doctor?” asked Pelle, bending down over Johanna.

“Yes. Lasse Frederik will tell Morten to bring his doctor with him. He must know her best. I should think they’ll soon be here.”

A shivering fit came over Johanna. She lay working her tongue against the dry roof of her mouth, now and then uttering a number of disconnected words, and tossing to and fro upon the bed. Suddenly she raised herself in terror, her wide-open eyes fixed upon Pelle, but with no recognition in them. “Go away! I won’t!” she screamed, pushing him away. His deep voice calmed her, however, and she allowed herself to be laid down once more, and then lay still with closed eyes.

“Someone has been after her,” said Ellen, weeping. “What can it be?”

“It’s the old story,” Pelle whispered with emotion. “Morten says that it constantly reappears in her.⁠—Take the children out into the garden, Ellen. I’ll stay here with her.”

Ellen went out with the little ones, who could hardly be persuaded to come out of their corner; but it was not long before their chattering voices could be heard out on the grass.

Pelle sat with his hand on Johanna’s forehead, staring straight before him. He had been rudely awakened to the horror of life once more. Convulsive tremors passed through her tortured brow. It was as if he held in his hand a fluttering soul that had been trodden in the mire beneath heavy heels⁠—a poor crushed fledgeling that could neither fly nor die.

He was roused by the sound of a carriage driving quickly up to the garden gate, and went out to meet the men.

The doctor was very doubtful about Johanna’s condition. “I’m afraid that the fits will increase rather than decrease,” he said in a whisper. “It would be better if she were sent to the hospital as soon as she’s able to be moved.”

“Would it be better for her?” asked Ellen.

“No, not exactly for her, but⁠—she’ll be a difficult patient, you know!”

“Then she shall remain here,” said Ellen; “she shall be well looked after.”

Lasse Frederik had to take his bicycle and ride to the chemist’s, and immediately after the doctor drove away.

They sat outside the garden door, so that they could hear any sound from the sick girl, and talked together in low tones. It was sad to see Morten; Johanna’s flight from him had wounded him deeply.

“I wonder why she did it?” said Pelle.

“She’s been strange ever since you came up and proposed that she should come out to you,” said Morten sadly. “She got it into her head that she was a burden to me and that I would like to get rid of her. Two or three days ago she got up while I was out, and began working in the house⁠—I suppose as a return for my keeping her. She’s morbidly sensitive. When I distinctly forbade her she declared that she wouldn’t owe me anything and meant to go away. I knew that she might very likely do it in spite of her being ill, so I stayed at home. At midday today I just went down to fetch milk, and when I came up she was gone. It was a good thing she came out here; I think she’d do anything when once the idea’s taken her that she’s a burden.”

“She must be very fond of you,” said Ellen, looking at him.

“I don’t think so,” answered Morten, with a sad smile. “At any rate, she’s hidden it well. My impression is that she’s hated me ever since the day we spoke of her coming out here.⁠—May I stay here for the night?”

“If you can put up with what we have,” answered Ellen. “It won’t be a luxurious bed, but it’ll be something to lie down on.”

Morten did not want a bed, however. “I’ll sit up and watch over Johanna,” he said.

XIV

The house was thus transformed into a nursing home. It was a hard hit at their careless happiness, but they took it as it came. Neither of them demanded more of life than it was capable of.

Ellen was with the sick girl day and night until the worst was over; she neglected both Pelle and the children to give all her care to Johanna.

“You’ve got far too much to do,” said Pelle anxiously. “It’ll end in your being ill too. Do let us have help!” And as Ellen would not hear of it, he took the matter into his own hands, and got “Queen Theresa” to be out there during the day.

In the course of a few days Morten arranged his affairs, got rid of his flat, and moved out to them. “You won’t be able to run away from me, after all,” he said to Johanna, who was sitting up in bed listening to the carrying upstairs of his things. “When you’re well enough you shall be moved up into the big attic; and then we two shall live upstairs and be jolly again, won’t we?”

She made no answer, but flushed with pleasure.

Ellen now received from Morten the amount he usually spent in a month on food and house-rent. She was quite disconcerted. What was she to do with all that money? It was far too much! Well, they need no longer be anxious about their rent.

Johanna was soon so far recovered as to be able to get up for a little. The country air had a beneficial effect upon her nerves, and Ellen knew how to keep her in good spirits. Old Brun made her a present of a beautiful red and yellow reclining chair of basket work; and when the sun shone she was carried out onto the grass, where she lay and watched the children’s play, sometimes joining in the game from her chair, and ordering them hither and thither. Boy Comfort submitted to