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I know full well the danger ’t would put you in, and the
labor and wear and tear that would be needed if we were
to become a couple by ourselves, and ’t is a thing hardly to
be wished either for you or me, though I can’t help it.”
“But I don’t want Anne now or ever, the country jade
she is! I’m fond o’ you an’ no one else in the world, let ’em
call you old and wicked an’ what the devil they please.”
“I can’t believe you, Sören, much as I wish to.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“No, Sören, no. My only wish is that this might be my
grave, the spot where I stand. Would that I could close the
door over me and sit down to sleep forever in the darkness.”
“I’ll make you believe me!”
“Never, never! there is nothing in all the world you can
do to make me believe you, for there is no reason in it.”
“You make me daft wi’ your talk, and you’ll live to be
sorry; for I’m goin’ to make you believe me, even ef they
burn me alive or do me to death fer it.”
Marie shook her head and looked at him sadly.
“Then it must be, come what may,” said Sören and
ran away.
He stopped at the kitchen door, asked for Anne
Trinderup, and was told that she was in the garden. Then he went
over to the menservants’ quarters, took a loaded old gun
of the gamekeeper’s, and made for the garden.
Anne was cutting kale when Sören caught sight of her.
She had filled her apron with the green stuff, and was
holding the fingers of one hand up to her mouth to warm them
with her breath. Slowly Sören stole up to her, his eyes fixed
on the edge of her dress, for he did not want to see her face.
Suddenly Anne turned and saw Sören. His dark looks,
the gun, and his stealthy approach alarmed her, and she
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