Pelle the Conqueror — Volume 02 by Nexø, Martin Andersen, 1869-1954

The crazy Anker was standing at the top of his high steps. "Good-bye!" cried Pelle, but Anker did not understand. He turned his face up to the sky and sent forth his demented cry.

Pelle threw a last glance at the workshop. "There have I spent many a good hour!" he thought; and he thought, too, of the young master. Old Jorgen was standing before his window, playing with the little Jorgen, who sat inside on the windowseat. "Peep, peep, little one!" he cried, in his shrill voice, and he hid, and bobbed up into sight again. The young wife was holding the child; she was rosy with maternal delight.

"You'll be sure to let us hear from you," said Lasse yet again, as Pelle stood leaning over the steamer's rail. "Don't forget your old father!" He was quite helpless in his anxiety.

"I will write to you as soon as I'm getting on," said Pelle, for the twentieth time at least. "Only don't worry!" Sure of victory, he laughed down at the old man. For the rest they stood silent and gazed at one another.

At last the steamer moved. "Good luck--take care of yourself!" he cried for the last time, as they turned the pier-head; and as long as he could see he waved his cap. Then he went right forward and sat on a coil of rope.

He had forgotten all that lay behind him. He gazed ahead as though at any moment the great world itself might rise in front of the vessel's bow. He pictured nothing to himself of what was to come and how he would meet it--he was only longing--longing!

THE END.