Often he got far enough to see Anders'
house; but now some one came out of the door; now there was a stranger
there; again Anders was outside chopping wood, so there was always
something in the way. But one Sunday, late in the winter, he went to
church again, and Anders was there too. Baard saw him; he had grown
pale and thin; he wore the same clothes as in former days when the
brothers were constant companions, but now they were old and patched.
During the sermon Anders kept his eyes fixed on the priest, and Baard
thought he looked good and kind; he remembered their childhood and what
a good boy Anders had been. Baard went to communion that day, and he
made a solemn vow to his God that he would be reconciled with his
brother whatever might happen. This determination passed through his
soul while he was drinking the wine, and when he rose he wanted to go
right to him and sit down beside him; but some one was in the way and
Anders did not look up. After service, too, there was something in the
way; there were too many people; Anders' wife was walking at his side,
and Baard was not acquainted with her; he concluded that it would be
best to go to his brother's house and have a serious talk with him.
When evening came he set forth. He went straight to the sitting-room
door and listened, then he heard his name spoken; it was by the wife.

"He took the sacrament to-day," said she; "he surely thought of you."

"No; he did not think of me," said Anders. "I know him; he thinks only
of himself."

For a long time there was silence; the sweat poured from Baard as he
stood there, although it was a cold evening. The wife inside was
busied with a kettle that crackled and hissed on the hearth; a little
infant cried now and then, and Anders rocked it. At last the wife
spoke these few words:--

"I believe you both think of each other without being willing to admit
it."

"Let us talk of something else," replied Anders.

After a while he got up and moved towards the door. Baard was forced
to hide in the wood-shed; but to that very place Anders came to get an
armful of wood. Baard stood in the corner and saw him distinctly; he
had put off his threadbare Sunday clothes and wore the uniform he had
brought home with him from the war, the match to Baard's, and which he
had promised his brother never to touch but to leave for an heirloom,
Baard having given him a similar promise. Anders' uniform was now
patched and worn; his s