Nobody said much. Laura pulled her shawl more closely over her shoulders and even Stellan seemed somewhat ill at ease.
Then Hedvig led Percy with an absentminded expression to the wedding presents which were laid out on a table by the window. There were crystal vases and bowls in the taste of the day—all eloquent of decent, commonplace domestic life. Hedvig walked away. Percy looked at the floor.
“They are all overtaxing my nerves,” he thought. “Such meaningless ugliness!” He had to make a real effort to realise that this was not a deliberate mockery of their marriage, but merely a sacrifice to the conventionalities. At last he began to thank everybody very eagerly and politely to right and left on behalf of himself and Hedvig.
It was Stellan who saved the situation. He took Percy’s arm.
“Now I must show you round a little in this owls’ nest,” he said, in a tone of command that had something engagingly impersonal in it. “Selambshof was not conjured up in a day like your palace. It is as old as sin, though it was unfortunately rebuilt and spoilt in the process sometime in the ’fifties.”
Percy stopped in the dining-room in front of old Enoch’s portrait. Suddenly he looked quite relieved and was delighted:
“This is very interesting!” he exclaimed.
“Do you think so? It’s our grandfather. An old devil, between ourselves.”
Percy climbed up and examined the signature in the corner:
“Just fancy, a Tervillius! But yet not quite like him. He never achieved such rapid execution elsewhere. What swift, cruel characterisation! And he is otherwise so extremely conscientious.”
“Well, he is said to have had his reasons for not loving old Enoch. It cannot have been very pleasant to owe him money.”
“So it is the inspiration of hatred! Well, there are worse inspirations.”
“Our dear grandfather was apparently not at all displeased with the caricature, though for certain reasons it cannot have been very agreeable to him. I suppose you know that Tervillius committed suicide … just a few days after he had finished out here?”
“Oh, so this is his last work … an anathema. …”
Hedvig had silently stolen up to them and stood there staring Old Hök in the eyes whilst she listened greedily to each word that was uttered. Percy pushed his arm smilingly under Hedvig’s and eagerly solicited the condescension of his Spanish saint:
“Fancy the last masterpiece of a distinguished artist! And quite unknown to the critics. That is most remarkable.”
Peter had also come up to the picture: “Is the old fellow really worth something?” he wondered.
“Thirty thousand, at least. It’s a pity it is a family portrait as one does not dare to make an offer for it.”
The eyes of the Selambs lit up. They evidently regarded their grandfather with a new interest.
“Thirty thousand for the curse,” mumbled Hedvig with a shrug of her shoulders.
“The old man gave five hundred,” said Peter. “I have seen an old receipt. He was always a good business man.”
“Aren’t you afraid to marry into old Enoch’s family?” cried Laura with a voice that had suddenly become quite gay. “Just look how like him I am.” And with comic eagerness she imitated his hard looks and pulled down the corners of her mouth.
But Percy looked searchingly round the circle of faces and his look rested with an expression of admiration on Hedvig:
“Isn’t the likeness all the same most striking in Hedvig?” he said lightly.
Not for a second did he shrink from the thought that she was of the same blood as the old usurer against whom the soul of a hunted and despairing artist had exploded its hatred before his eyes.
He was a dilettante, Percy Hill.
After the early dinner Percy had to return home at once. And Hedvig did not want to stay with the others round the coffee table.
“Now, I will leave you, so that you can discuss us more freely,” she said.
Hedvig was going up to her room. She had not gone many steps up the creaking stairs before she heard the dammed-up floods of talk of her sister and brothers released. Silently as a ghost she crept back to the door and listened. First she heard Stellan’s voice:
“The devil take me if I can understand Hedvig. I really did not think her capable of this.”
“Indeed,” interposed Laura, “it was exactly what I expected. She used to sneak things when she was small.”
Then it was Stellan again:
“Poor Percy is a decent fellow anyhow. He only wants to get away as quickly as possible in secret. I understand that they don’t want us to be present at the wedding.”
“Well,” said Laura, “we are sure to meet again soon—on another solemn occasion.”
Then one heard Peter bang his knees together. “Yes, yes, the money will last longer than the husband. She will soon have pots of money.”
Hedvig leaned against the doorpost with closed eyes. She felt cold and stiff all over. Her disgust at the people in there who so impudently and blindly defiled her sacrifice froze her blood. And all the same she could not tear herself away from her listening post. And all the same she devoured greedily every word of her sister and brothers. In her innermost heart there was a wild frightened joy to hear how rich she was going to be.
XII
Peter Casts Out Majängen and Brings Home Ekbacken
Peter the Boss had begun to frequent the observatory again. But it was not in order to watch the workers at Selambshof as old Enoch had done.
