Growth of the Soil - Knut Hamsun (children's ebooks free online TXT) 📗

first; and Geissler, no doubt, would hardly have turned suddenly pale at their words if he had not been out somewhere by himself and got red. As it was, he paled, and answered coldly:

“I don’t wish to make any suggestion as to what you, gentlemen, may be in a position to pay⁠—but I know what I am willing to accept and whatnot. I’ve no use for more child’s prattle about the mine. My price is the same as yesterday.”

“A quarter of a million Kroner?”

“Yes.”

The gentlemen mounted their horses. “Look here,” said one, “we’ll go this far, and say twenty-five thousand.”

“You’re still inclined to joke, I see,” said Geissler. “But I’ll make you an offer in sober earnest: would you care to sell your bit of a mine up there?”

“Why,” said they, somewhat taken aback⁠—“why, we might do that, perhaps.”

“I’m ready to buy it,” said Geissler.

Oh, that Geissler! With the courtyard full of people now, listening to every word; all the Sellanraa folk, and the stoneworkers and the messengers. Like as not, he could never have raised the money, nor anything near it, for such a deal; but, again, who could say? A man beyond understanding was Geissler. Anyhow, his last words rather disconcerted those gentlemen on horseback. Was it a trick? Did he reckon to make his own land seem worth more by this manoeuvre?

The gentlemen thought it over; ay, they even began to talk softly together about it; they got down from their horses again. Then the engineer put in a word; he thought, no doubt, it was getting beyond all bearing. And he seemed to have some power, some kind of authority here. And the yard was full of folk all listening to what was going on. “We’ll not sell,” said he.

“Not?” asked his companions.

“No.”

They whispered together again, and they mounted their horses once more⁠—in earnest this time. “Twenty-five thousand!” called out one of them. Geissler did not answer, but turned away, and went over to talk to the stoneworkers again.

And that was the end of their last meeting.

Geissler appeared to care nothing for what might come of it. He walked about talking of this, that, and the other; for the moment he seemed chiefly interested in the laying of some heavy beams across the shell of the new cowhouse. They were to get the work finished that week, with a temporary roof⁠—a new fodder loft was to be built up over later on.

Isak kept Sivert away from the building work now, and left him idle⁠—and this he did with a purpose, that Geissler might find the lad ready at any time if he wanted to go exploring with him in the hills. But Isak might have saved himself the trouble; Geissler had given up the idea, or perhaps forgotten all about it. What he did was to get Inger to pack him up some food, and set off down the road. He stayed away till evening.

He passed the two new clearings that had been started below Sellanraa, and talked to the men there; went right down to Maaneland to see what Axel Ström had got done that year. Nothing very great, it seemed; not as much as he might have wished, but he had put in some good work on the land. Geissler took an interest in this place, too, and asked him: “Got a horse?”

“Ay.”

“Well, I’ve a mowing-machine and a harrow down south, both new; I’ll send them up, if you like.”

“How?” asked Axel, unable to conceive such magnificence, and thinking vaguely of payment by instalments.

“I mean I’ll make you a present of them,” said Geissler.

“ ’Tis hard to believe,” said Axel.

“But you’ll have to help those two neighbours of yours up above, breaking new land.”

“Ay, never fear for that,” said Axel; he could still hardly make out what Geissler meant by it all. “So you’ve machines and things down south?”

“I’ve a deal of things to look after,” said Geissler. Now, as a matter of fact, Geissler had no great deal of things to look after, but he liked to make it appear so. As for a mowing-machine and a harrow, he could buy them in any of the towns, and send up from there.

He stayed talking a long while with Axel Ström about the other settlers near; of Storborg, the trading station; of Axel’s brother, newly married, who had come to Breidablik, and had started draining the moors and getting the water out. Axel complained that it was impossible to get a woman anywhere to help; he had none but an old creature, by name Oline; not much good at the best of times, but he might be thankful to have her as long as she stayed. Axel had been working day and night part of that summer. He might, perhaps, have got a woman from his own parts, from Helgeland, but that would have meant paying for her journey, besides wages. A costly business all round. Axel further told how he had taken over the inspection of the telegraph line, but rather wished he had left it alone.

“That sort of thing’s only fit for Brede and his like,” said Geissler.

“Ay, that’s a true word,” Axel admitted. “But there was the money to think of.”

“How many cows have you got?”

“Four. And a young bull. ’Twas too far to go up to Sellanraa to theirs.”

But there was a far weightier matter Axel badly wanted to talk over with Geissler; Barbro’s affair had come to light, somehow, and an investigation was in progress. Come to light? Of course it had. Barbro had been going about, evidently with child and plain to see, and she had left the place by herself all unencumbered and no child at all. How had it come about?

When Geissler understood what the matter was, he said quite shortly: “Come along with me.” And he led Axel with him away from the house. Geissler put on an important air, as one in authority. They sat down at the edge of the wood, and Geissler said: