“But Petter Nord, what would have happened if you had met Halfvorson?” asked Edith, when he had finished.

He hung his head even lower.  “I saw him well enough,” he said.  “He had not gone away.  He was working in his garden outside the gates.  The boy in the shop told me everything.”

“Well, why did you not avenge yourself?” said Edith.

He was spared nothing.—­But he felt the inquiring glance of her eyes on him and he began obediently:  “When the men lay down to sleep on a slope, I went alone to find Halfvorson, for I wished to have him to myself.  He was working there, staking his peas.  It must have rained in torrents the day before, for the peas had been broken down to the ground; some of the leaves were whipped to ribbons, others covered with earth.  It was like a hospital, and Halfvorson was the doctor.  He raised them up so gently, brushed away the earth and helped the poor little things to cling to the twigs.  I stood and looked on.  He did not hear me, and he had no time to look up.  I tried to retain my anger by force.  But what could I do?  I could not fly at him while he was busy with the peas.  My time will come afterwards, I thought.

“But then he started up, struck himself on the forehead and rushed away to the hotbed.  He lifted the glass and looked in, and I looked too, for he seemed to be in the depths of despair.  Yes, it was dreadful, of course.  He had forgotten to shade it from the sun, and it must have been terribly hot under the glass.  The cucumbers lay there half-dead and gasped for breath; some of the leaves were burnt, and others were drooping.  I was so overcome, I too, that I never thought what I was doing, and Halfvorson caught sight of my shadow.  ’Look here, take the watering-pot that is standing in the asparagus bed and run down to the river for water,’ he said, without looking up.  I suppose he thought it was the gardener’s boy.  And I ran.”

“Did you, Petter Nord?”

“Yes; you see, the cucumbers ought not to suffer on account of our enmity.  I thought myself that it showed lack of character and so on, but I could not help it.  I wanted to see if they would come to life.  When I came back, he had lifted the glass off and still stood and stared despairingly.  I thrust the watering-pot into his hand, and he began to pour over them.  Yes, it was almost visible what good it did in the hotbed.  I thought almost that they raised themselves, and he must have thought so too, for he began to laugh.  Then I ran away.”

“You ran away, Petter Nord, you ran away?”

Edith had raised herself in the arm-chair.

“I could not strike him,” said Petter Nord.

Edith felt an ever stronger impression of the glory round poor Petter Nord’s head.  So it was not necessary to plunge him into the depths of remorse with the heavy burden of sin around his neck.  Was he such a man?  Such a tender-hearted, sensitive man!  She sank back, closed her eyes and thought.  She did not need to say it to him.  She was astonished that she felt such a relief not to have to cause him pain.