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Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [119]

By Root 988 0
word would ever be uttered in their cottage! And they would trim it with the most beautiful wildflowers and moss and stones they could find; the floor would be sprinkled with juniper he’d brought home himself. And at Christmas they would always remember to put out a sheaf for the birds. Just think how they would while the time away and how happy they would be! They must always be together; they would run in and out and never be parted. In the summer they would go on long hikes and observe the trembling grass and trees, and how they grew year after year. And how helpful they would be to strangers and wayfarers who might be passing by, yes indeed! They had to have some cattle, a couple of large, sleek animals which they would train to eat out of their hands, and while he dug and chopped and tilled the ground, she would tend the animals....

“Yes,” Martha replied. She said it spontaneously, and he heard it.

Further, they had to take a day or two off every week, he went on. They would go hunting and fishing together, the two of them, hand in hand, she in a short belted dress, he in a tunic and buckled shoes. They would sing and talk and shout to make the whole forest re-echo with their voices! “Don’t you agree, hand in hand?”

“Yes,” she said again.

Little by little she was carried away, he described it all so clearly to her; he had worked everything out in his head, down to the minutest detail. He even mentioned how important it was to find a spot with easy access to water. But he would see to that, oh sure, he would see to everything; she simply had to trust him. Oh, with his strength he could certainly set up this home in the middle of the dense forest, he had a pair of fists ike—well, she could see for herself! ... And smiling, he measured her delicate child’s hand against his own.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her; she sat still and looked at him even when he patted her on the cheek. Then he asked her straight out, with his lips close to her ear, if she dared, and if she wanted to. And, indeed, she answered yes, a pensive, dreamy answer in a mere whisper. But a little later she began to waver: No, when she thought it over, it just wasn’t possible. How could he really want it! What was she, anyway!

And again he convinced her that he wanted it, wanted it, in fact, as much as he could ever want anything. She wasn’t going to suffer privation even if things didn’t pan out for a while; he would toil for them both, she need have no fear. He talked for a whole hour, shaking her resistance bit by bit. Twice during this hour she refused to go along, covering her face with her hands and crying, “No, no!” And yet she gave in to him; studying his face, she understood that he didn’t merely want to win a momentary victory. In God’s name, then, since he wanted it that way! She was conquered, it was no use to fight him anymore. In the end she gave him a clear yes.

The candle was burning itself out in the empty bottle; they were still sitting on their separate chairs, holding each other’s hands and talking together. She was quite overcome by emotion, frequently getting tears in her eyes, but still smiling.

“To get back to Miniman,” he said, “I’m quite certain he was jealous at the bazaar.”

“Yes, maybe he was,” she replied. “But it can’t be helped.”

“No, it can’t be helped, can it? ... Look, I would love to do something nice for you this evening, what might it be? Something to make you clap your hands to your breast with delight! Name it, ask me for something or other! Alas, you’re too kind, my little friend, you never ask for anything! Well, Martha, remember what I’m telling you: I’m going to protect you, I’ll try to anticipate your wishes and to take care of you till my dying breath. Please, remember that, won’t you! You will never have to say that I’ve forgotten my promise.”

It was four o’clock.

They stood up. She took a step toward him and he clasped her to his breast. She put her arms around his neck, and they remained standing like that for a few moments, her pure, timorous nun’s heart going pitapat against his hand;

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