While the pastor was speaking Jan time and again turned his head toward the door and he motioned to Katrina, who was sitting on the last bench and could more easily get to the door than he could, to go open it.
Katrina kept her seat as long as she dared; but being a bit fearful of crossing Jan these days, she finally obeyed him. When she had got the door open, she, like Börje, saw no one in the entry. She shook her head at Jan and went back to her seat.
The pastor had not allowed himself to be disconcerted by Katrina’s movements. To the great joy of all the young people, he had almost ceased putting questions and was voicing some of the beautiful thoughts that kept coming into his mind.
“Think how wisely and well things are ordered for the dear old people whom we have with us in our homes!” he said. “Is it not a blessing that we may be a stay and comfort to those who cared for us when we were helpless, to make life easy for those who perhaps have suffered hunger themselves that we might be fed? It is an honour for a young couple to have at the fireside an old father or mother, happy and content—”
When the pastor said that a smothered sob was heard from a corner of the room. Lars Gunnarson, who had been sitting with head devoutly bowed, arose at once. Crossing the floor on tiptoes, so as not to disturb the meeting, he went over to his mother-in-law, placed his arm around her, and led her up to the table. Seating her in his own chair, he stationed himself behind it and looked down at her with an air of solicitude; then he beckoned to his wife to come and stand beside him. Everyone understood of course that Lars wanted them to think that in this home all was as the pastor had said it should be.
The minister looked pleased as he glanced up at the old mother and her children. The only thing that affected him a little unpleasantly was that the old woman wept all the while. He had never before succeeded in calling forth such deep emotion in any of his parishioners.
“It is not difficult to keep the Fourth Commandment when we are young and still under the rule of our parents,” the pastor continued; “but the real test comes later, when we are grown and think ourselves quite as wise—”
Here the pastor was again interrupted. Jan had just risen and gone to the door himself. He seemed to have better luck than had Börje or Katrina: for he was heard to say “Go’-day” to somebody out in the entry.
Now everyone turned to see who it was that had been standing outside all the evening, afraid to come in. They could hear Jan urging and imploring. Evidently the person wished to be excused, for presently Jan pulled the door to and stepped back into the room, alone. He did not return to his seat, but threaded his way up to the table.
“Well, Jan,” said the pastor, somewhat impatient, “may we hear now who it is that has been disturbing us the whole evening?”
“It was the old master of Falla who stood out there,” Jan replied, not in the least astonished or excited over what he had to impart. “He wouldn’t come in, but he bade me tell Lars from him to beware the first Sunday after Midsummer Day.”
At first not many understood what lay back of Jan’s words. Those who sat in the last rows had not heard distinctly, but they inferred from the startled look on the pastor’s face that Jan must have said something dreadful. They all sprang up and began to crowd nearer the table, asking to right and left who on earth he could have been talking to.
“But Jan!” said the pastor in a firm tone, “do you know what you are saying?”
“I do indeed,” returned Jan with an emphatic nod. “As soon as he had given me the message for his son-in-law he went away. ‘Tell him,’ he said, ‘that I wish him no ill for letting me lie in the snow in my agony and not coming to my aid in time; but the Fourth Commandment is a strict one. Tell him from me he’d better repent and confess. He will have until the Sunday after Midsummer to do it in.’ ”
Jan spoke so rationally and delivered his strange message with such sincerity that both the pastor and the others firmly believed at first that Eric of Falla had actually stood outside the door of his old home and talked with Jan. And naturally they all turned their eyes toward Lars Gunnarson to see what effect Jan’s words had had on him.
Lars only laughed. “I thought Jan sane,” he said, “or I shouldn’t have let him come to the meeting. The pastor will have to pardon the interruption. It is the madness breaking out again.”
“Why of course!” said the pastor, relieved. For he had been on the point of believing he had come upon something supernatural. It was well, he thought, that this was only the fancy of a lunatic.
“You see, Pastor,” Lars went on explaining, “Jan has no great love for me, and it’s plain now he hasn’t the wit to conceal it. I must confess that in a sense I’m to blame for his daughter having to go away to earn money. It’s this he holds against me.”
The parson, a little surprised at Lars’s eager tone, gave him a searching glance. Lars did not meet that gaze, but looked away. Perceiving his mistake, he tried to look the parson in the face. Somehow he couldn’t—so turned away, with
