at that time, finn made a friend whom he had not chosen or wanted for himself, but whom cordt gave him in his anxiety, because he thought he could never get any one better.

his name was hans and they had known each other since they were children. he was a year older than finn, not quite so tall, but more powerfully developed, with bright hair and eyes and disposition.

his father was a little man who sat among the people in the counting-house, where his father had sat before him. he and his little wife had no luck in life save their son. but at times they trembled for his future, because his ideas were so pronounced and took so wide a range.

[217]for, even as he was taller than his father, so he would not be content with his measure in anything.

above all, he did not want to sit in the office, but to go out in the world, big as it was. and, from the time when he was a little boy, he believed that it was bigger than they told him.

now that he had grown up and become conscious of his need and his powers and could not get anywhere, he went fearlessly to the master of the house and told him how the matter stood.

cordt liked him and wanted to keep him for his house, but soon saw that he had nothing that could tempt him. he asked him what he would like to be; and it appeared that hans wanted to be an engineer.

cordt looked at him and thought that his glance could blast rocks.

then he promised his assistance and[218] remained sitting in deep thought, while hans went down the stairs singing.

time passed. he advanced along his road and both he and the others could see that he was fully keeping pace with his dreams. cordt did not lose sight of him and was pleased when he called. but fru adelheid did not like him, because he talked so loud and had such a heavy tread.

one evening, cordt stood in hans’ room and talked to him as he had never talked to any one:

“i am your father’s employer,” he said, “and my father was your grandfather’s. my son will never be yours. for you mean to make your own way and be your own master. you would have done that even if no one had lent you a helping hand. that is true. but then you would have become bitter, perhaps, and distrustful and narrow-minded in the[219] use of your strength. from this i delivered you. to-day, i come to ask for a return.”

hans had taken the hand which he put out to him and stood ill at ease, without understanding. and cordt sat down wearily and sat long without speaking further.

at last, he woke from his thoughts and looked at the young man, who could not interpret his glance, but was moved by it:

“i do not wish that you were my son,” he said. “i have a son and he is a good lad and i love him. he has not your strength of character, but then he does not need it. his path was smoothed and shaded from the day when he was born and grew up. but he can give you many things which you have not.”

he listened to his own words, to the way in which they kept on shaping themselves into an apology for finn, a prayer[220] for forbearance towards him. he suffered at this; and hans, who saw his distress, felt, without understanding, that something important and tragic was taking place in this great house, where he and his had earned their living.

“will you try if you can be his friend?”

hans was quite willing.

cordt looked at him and gauged his strength. he looked round in the little low-ceilinged room which contained nothing but what served hans in his work. he looked out of the window, where the roofs intersected one another, dirty and grey against the sky: smoke rose from hundreds of chimneys, the noise of the courtyard and the street filled the room, the window was broken and pasted up with paper.

then he again turned his eyes to the man who sat amidst these mean surroundings and grew up strong. and cordt[221] knew that he was not standing here as his benefactor and his father’s employer, who was opening his rich house to him. he stood here as one who could beg and nothing more.

“you know you used to play together as children,” he said.

and, when he had said that, he was overcome with emotion, because he remembered that finn had never played. hans thought the same thing, but could not find the words that should be spoken on this occasion and the silence became heavy and painful to both of them.

to say something at all costs, hans asked if finn was ill.

then cordt understood that hans must long since have pronounced his judgment on the pale, silent heir of the house and that the judgment could not be good.

he rose, tired of seeking for guarded phrases. he laid his hands on hans’[222] shoulders and looked at him in such a way that hans never forgot it:

“do you be david,” he said. “come to us with your harp. and come of your own accord and come when we send for you.”