In its old age the Nilsa family clothes chest must go out into the world and travel.
It was tested in its joints, and the still-sound oak boards passed the inspection. It was scrubbed clean inside, and old rust scraped from hinges and escutcheons. After timeless obscurity the heavy, clumsy thing was unexpectedly honored again. From its exile in attic darkness it was now honored with the foremost place in the house. The chest had been half forgotten, years had passed without its lid being lifted; now it became the family’s most treasured piece of furniture, the only one to accompany them on the journey.
The four oak walls of this chest were for thousands of miles to enclose and protect their essentials; to these planks would be entrusted most of their belongings. Again the old adage, “Old is reliable and best,” was proved. And the ancient clothes chest which was about to pass into an altogether new and eventful epoch of its history was even given a new name in its old age. Through its new name it was set apart from all its equals and from all other belongings. It was called the “America chest,” the first so named in this whole region.
— 3—
One night Karl Oskar was awakened by a noise from without. Kristina also woke up and asked: “What can it be?”
He listened. “Someone at the door.”
Now they both heard knocking.
“Who can it be at this time of night?”
“I’ll go and see.”
Karl Oskar pulled on his trousers and lit a stick of pitch wood to light his way in the entrance hall. Robert too had awakened, and came from the kitchen where he slept. He asked in trepidation if it mightn’t be the sheriff. .? Rumor had it that Aron of Nybacken was still urging the sheriff to catch his runaway farmhand.
“I’ll warn you before I open,” assured the brother.
But there was no fierce, threatening sheriff to answer his question when Karl Oskar inquired as to who was knocking; it was a kind and friendly voice — Danjel of Kärragärde stood on the stoop.
“God give you peace in your house, Karl Oskar.”
Robert felt relieved; but he was curious.
Karl Oskar, surprised at this late visit, let his wife’s relative into the house. In the light of his fire stick he looked at the grandfather’s clock in the corner: it showed half-past twelve. Something serious must have happened.
Kristina was both pleased and alarmed; she hurried out of bed and put on her skirt and night jacket; she took her uncle’s hand and curtsied. Karl Oskar pulled up a chair for him and he sat down. His errand must be urgent, and they waited for him to communicate it at once, but he acted as if there were no hurry. As usual, he was slow and calm in his movements.
Kristina remembered that Inga-Lena only lately had given birth to a child, and had been seriously ill at the time.
“Is something wrong at home? With my aunt perhaps?”
“No. All is well with wife and child.”
Inga-Lena had borne him a daughter since the couple’s marriage had again become a true marriage.
Their curiosity increased. Why did Danjel disturb them at this late hour if nothing serious had happened?
“Has something. .?”
“I have a message for you, Karl Oskar.”
“A message?”
“Yes.”
“From whom?”
“From God.”
“From God?”
Karl Oskar and Kristina exchanged quick glances.
“The Lord awakened me tonight and said: ‘Go at once to Karl Oskar in Korpamoen, the husband of your sister’s beloved daughter.’”
Karl Oskar looked closer at Danjel but could see no sign of agitation or trouble in his face; his eyes were not bloodshot like a madman’s.
“Now you must listen, Karl Oskar. I come with an order from God.”
Robert crept into the room and sat in a corner near the hearth, listening to the strange message brought by the peasant of Kärragärde.
Danjel continued, and it seemed as if he took his words directly from the Bible.
“Last night the Lord said unto me, Danjel Andreasson, as He once said unto Abraham: ‘Get thee out of thy country, and from thy kindred, and from thy father’s house, unto a land that I will show thee!’
“The Spirit exhorted me to look up Genesis, Chapter Twelve, verse one, and obey the words written therein. I arose from my bed and lit a candle and read. Then I asked: ‘How shall this come about?’ Tonight the Spirit gave me the answer: ‘Go to Karl Oskar in Korpamoen. He will show you and help you.’”
Had Danjel entirely lost his mind? Karl Oskar and Kristina wondered. His actions were calm and his eyes peaceful and mild. His words were strange, but not confused, and gradually it all fitted together and took on meaning; soon they could guess his errand.
The dean had reconciled many of the Åkians with the church again but had been unable to bring Danjel back to the right religion. At the fall session of the county court last year he had been cited for a second offense, and again fined for preaching his heresy. But disregarding the court’s judgments at two hearings, he had continued fearlessly to hold Bible meetings and administer the holy sacrament in his home. Again this spring he had been summoned to appear in court for the third offense, and people were sure that this time Danjel would be exiled.
Kristina clapped her hands in delight. “Uncle, are you coming with us to America?”
Danjel rose and went up to his niece, laying both hands upon her shoulders, as if in blessing. “I live in a time of persecution in the land of my fathers. I am prevented from confessing my God. But the Lord shall open for me a new land.”
“You mean America, Uncle?”
“Yes. God has so ordered it: we shall move there together. And none shall have fear; He is with us. I bring my God with me.”
Kristina forgot that a moment ago she had feared their tardy visitor was mad. Now he was just her dear Uncle Danjel, whom she knew well. When she was a little girl and he had visited her home he had always had lumps of sugar in his pockets for her; he was still so kind to her, twice he had helped them with the mortgage interest. Without his aid they might not now be in possession of the farm. No one could make her believe her uncle was an evil, dangerous man who should be exiled. His peculiar ideas in religion should be left undisturbed — he hurt no one but himself with them.
It gave her a feeling of security to know that Danjel would accompany them on the long journey to America, a journey which secretly still worried her. She felt almost as though her own father were to go with them.
Now she must prepare coffee for her uncle, from the few ounces left of the pound she had bought for Christmas. She stirred up the fire on the hearth, washed out the old coffee grounds from the kettle, and placed it on the tripod over the fire.
Karl Oskar was not as well pleased as his wife at the prospect of Danjel and his Åkians’ company; their religious peculiarities would cause inconveniences and trouble, he thought. And when Kristina learned that Danjel was to take along Ulrika of Västergöhl and her daughter — now his only followers outside the family — she too lost some of her enthusiasm. She could not believe that the old whore had become a new person, and decent people ought to be spared the companionship of Ulrika’s ilk. She hoped to dissuade her uncle from paying that creature’s passage.