“Look out, Jan!” said she.
Jan did so. Then he saw Katrina coming toward the house with a letter in her hand.
That was surely the letter from Glory Goldie which they had been longing for every day since her departure. Katrina, knowing how happy Jan would be to get this, had come straight over with it the moment it arrived.
Jan glanced about him, bewildered. Many ugly words were on the tip of his tongue, but now he had no time to give vent to them. What did he care about being revenged on Lars Gunnarson? Why should he bother to defend himself? The letter drew him away with a power that was irresistible. He was out of the house and with Katrina before the people inside had recovered from their dread of what he might have hurled at his employer in the way of accusation.
August Där Nol
One evening, when Glory Goldie had been gone about a month, August Där Nol came down to the Ashdales. August and Glory had been comrades at the Östanby school and had been confirmed the same summer.
A fine, manly lad was August Där Nol, and a favourite with everyone. His parents were people of means and no one had a brighter or more assured future to look forward to than had he. Having been absent from home for six months, he had only learned on his return that Glory Goldie had gone away in order to earn money to save her old home. It was his mother who told him of this, and before she had finished talking he snatched up his cap and rushed out, never pausing until he had reached the gate at Ruffluck Croft; there he stopped and looked toward the hut.
Katrina saw August standing there and made a pretext of going to the well for water in order to speak to him; but the lad did not appear to see her, so Katrina immediately went back into the house.
Then in a little while Jan came down from the forest with an armful of wood, and when August saw him coming he stepped to one side until he, too, had gone in; then he went back to the gate.
Presently the window of the hut swung open, disclosing Jan seated at one side of the window-table smoking his pipe, and Katrina at the other side, knitting.
“Well, Katrina dear,” said Jan, “now we’re having a real cosy evening. There’s only one thing I wish for.”
“I wish for a hundred things!” sighed Katrina, “and if I could have them all I’d still be unsatisfied.”
“But I only wish the seine-maker, or somebody else who can read, would drop in and read us Glory Goldie’s letter.”
“You’ve had that letter read to you so many times since you got it that you ought to know it by heart.”
“That may be true enough,” returned Jan, “but still it always does me good to hear it read, for then I feel as though the little girl herself were standing and talking to me, and I seem to see her eyes beam on me as I listen to her words.”
“I wouldn’t mind hearing it again, myself,” said Katrina, glancing out through the open window. “But on a fine light evening like this we can’t expect folks to come to our hut.”
“It would be better to me than the taste of white bread with coffee to hear Glory Goldie’s letter read while I’m sitting here smoking,” declared Jan, “but I’m sure everyone in the Ashdales has grown tired of being asked to read the letter over and over, and now I don’t know who to turn to.”
The words were hardly out of his mouth, when the door opened, and in walked August Där Nol. Jan started in surprise.
“Bless me! Here you come, my dear August, just when wanted.” After Jan had shaken hands with the caller and pulled up a chair for him he said: “I’ve got a letter I’d like you to read to us. It’s from an old schoolmate of yours. Maybe you’d be interested to hear how she’s getting on?”
August Där Nol took the letter and read it aloud, lingering over each word as if drinking it in. When he had finished, Jan remarked:
“How wonderfully well you read, my dear August! I’ve never heard Goldie’s words sound as beautiful as from your lips. Would you do me the favour to read the letter once more?”
Then the boy read the letter for the second time, with the same deep feeling. It was as if he had come with a thirst-parched throat to a spring of pure water. When he had read to the end he carefully folded the letter and smoothed it over with his hand. As he was about to return it to Jan, it occurred to him the letter had not been properly folded and he must do it over. That done, he sat very silent. Jan tried to start a conversation, but failed. Finally the boy rose to go.
“It’s so nice to get a little help sometimes,” said Jan. “Now I have another favour to ask of you. We don’t know just what to do with Glory Goldie’s kitten. It will have to be put out of the way, I suppose, as we can’t afford to keep it; but I can’t bear the thought of that, nor has Katrina the heart to drown it. We’ve talked of asking some stranger to take it.”
August Där Nol stammered a few words, which could scarcely be heard.
“You can put the kitten in a basket, Katrina,” Jan said to his wife, “then August will take it along, so that we’ll not have to see it again.”
Katrina then picked up a little kitten that lay asleep on the bed, placed it in an old basket around which she wrapped a cloth, and then turned it over to the boy.
“I’m glad to be rid of this
