But he would not have that.

He had thrashed Veyergang, and only repented that he had not hit harder.  As he had come into the world, he would be a human being, even if he were to have his head cut off for it afterwards.

The shop up there should not be fattened with another penny out of the tin box.  If his mother ever came to want for food, she would always find a place in his room; but that she should put a stop to his ever getting a room of his own—­no, thank you!

He was like another man when he had at last made this clear to himself.  Yes, his name was Nikolai, and he was foreman at Mrs. Ellingsen’s.

CHAPTER XII

THE FAIR AND THE CONVICT

The winter was passing.

It was at the time of the fair in the beginning of February.  The streets swarmed with people and the snow in the thaw had turned to powdered sugar with the traffic.

A motley row of stalls stretched from market-place to market-place.  Trumpets brayed, buffoons shouted, the lottery-wheel went round, the cryers howled.  Music filled the air in volleys of blustering flourishes, and amidst it all, over the whole town, pleasure-seeking, dancing and merriment, until far on into the night.

Dull noise and the sound of music penetrated up to the manufacturing part of the town.  In the evenings the town lay beneath it in increased illumination.

There was a kind of intoxication in the air, and there was many an impatient, longing soul up there of such as look severely upon themselves, while plenty of the looser sort streamed down.

From year to year the accounts grew of the large fair-balls, of the trumpets, the coloured lamps in the garden, and the matadores who stood treat.  It was tempting and attractive.

As early as the second day Kristofa came, excited and eager, with a solution of the question as far as she and Gunda and Silla were concerned—­money for tickets and cakes too, for all three!

She behaved most mysteriously, talked all the time of a certain person, whom she dared not, for all the world, mention.

Silla had never before been to anything of the kind, the most she had ever done was to stand outside among the longing crowd, who had to content themselves with looking at the coloured lamps and listening to the music.  Now at last there was a chance for her too.

Oh, if she dared!

She was restless the whole morning, and had two round red spots of colour on her cheeks.

At dinner-time her mother came up tired and out of breath from the town.

She had had to promise the Antonisens to stand at their cake-stall on the market-place through the fair-week and help sell.  It was hardly-earned money in the cold there and in the middle of all that shouting and bawling; but she would do her duty, and not swerve from it when there was a penny to earn.  It would not be closed and packed up before midnight, so she must stay down there these few nights.