Pelle the Conqueror

the roof lay in shadow, it had the appearance of velvet.
It was quiet up in the big house today; it was a day of rest from wrangling too.
The large yard was divided into two by a fence, the lower part consisting in the main of a large, steaming midden, crossed by planks in various directions, and at the top a few inverted wheelbarrows. A couple of pigs lay half buried in the manure, asleep, and a busy flock of hens were eagerly scattering the pile of horse-dung from the last morning clearance. A large cock stood in the middle of the flock, directing the work like a bailiff.
In the upper yard a flock of white pigeons were pecking corn off the clean stone paving. Outside the open coach-house door, a groom was examining the dogcart, while inside stood another groom, polishing the best harness.
The man at the dogcart was in shirtsleeves and newly-polished top-boots; he had a youthful, elastic frame, which assumed graceful attitudes as he worked. He wore his cap on the back of his head, and whistled softly while he cleaned the wheels outside and in, and sent stolen glances down to the washhouse, where, below the window, one of the maids was going through her Sunday ablutions, with shoulders and arms bare, and her chemise pushed down below her bosom.
The big dairymaid, Karna, went past him to the pump with two large buckets. As she returned, she splashed some water on to one of his boots, and he looked up with an oath. She took this as an invitation to stop, and put down her pails with a cautious glance up at the windows of the big house.
“You’ve not had all the sleep you ought to have had, Gustav,” she said teasingly, and laughed.
“Then it isn’t your fault, at any rate,” he answered roughly. “Can you patch my everyday trousers for me today?”
“No, thank you! I don’t mend for another to get all the pleasant words!”
“Then you can leave it alone! There are plenty who’ll mend for me without you!” And he bent again to his work.
“I’ll see if I can get time,” said the big woman meekly. “But I’ve got all the work in the place to do by myself this afternoon; the others are all going out.”
“Yes, I see Bodil’s washing herself,” said Gustav, sending a squirt of tobacco-juice out of his mouth in the direction of the washhouse window. “I suppose she’s going to meeting, as she’s doing it so thoroughly.”
Karna looked cunning. “She asked to be free because she wanted to go to church. She go to church! I should just like to see her! No, she’s going down to the tailor’s in the village, and there I suppose she’ll meet Malmberg, a townsman of hers. I wonder she isn’t above having anything to do with a married man.”
“She can go on the spree with anyone she likes, for all I care,” answered Gustav, kicking the last wheel into place with his foot, while Karna stood looking at him kindly. But the next moment she spied a face behind the curtains up in one of the windows, and hurried off with her pails. Gustav spat contemptuously between his teeth after her. She was really too old for his seventeen years; she must be at least forty; and casting another long look at Bodil, he went across to the coach-house with oilcan and keys.
The high white house that closed the yard at its upper end, had not been built right among the other buildings, but stood proudly aloof, unconnected with them except by two strips of wooden paling. It had gables on both sides, and a high basement, in which were the servants’ hall, the maids’ bedrooms, the washhouse, the mangling-room, and the large storerooms. On the gable looking on to the yard was a clock that did not go. Pelle called the building the Palace, and was not a little proud of being allowed to enter the basement. The other people on the farm did not give it such a nice name.
He was the only one whose awe of the House had nothing sinister about it; others regarded it in the light of a hostile fortress. Everyone who crossed the paved upper yard, glanced involuntarily up at the high veiled windows, behind which an eye might secretly be kept upon all that went on below. It was, a little like passing a row of cannons’ mouths⁠—it made one a little unsteady on one’s feet; and no one crossed the clean pavement unless he was obliged. On the other hand they went freely about the other half of the yard, which was just as much overlooked by the House.
Down there two of the lads were playing. One of them had seized the other’s cap and run off with it, and a wild chase ensued, in at one barn-door and out at another all round the yard, to the accompaniment of mischievous laughter and breathless exclamations. The yard-dog barked with delight and tumbled madly about on its chain in its desire to join in the game. Up by the fence the robber was overtaken and thrown to the ground; but he managed to toss the cap up into the air, and it descended right in front of the high stone steps of the House.
“Oh, you mean beast!” exclaimed the owner of the cap, in a voice of despairing reproach, belaboring the other with the toes of his boots. “Oh, you wretched bailiff’s sneak!” He suddenly stopped and measured the distance with an appraising eye. “Will you stand me half a pint if I dare go up and fetch the cap?” he asked in a whisper. The other nodded and sat up quickly to see what would come of it. “Swear? You won’t try and back out of it?” he said, lifting his hand adjuringly. His companion solemnly drew his finger across his throat, as if cutting it, and the oath was taken. The one who