Mysteries (7 page)

But the hotel keeper was irate and stamped his feet. “No ruckus here!” he cried, “no ruckus! If you want to have a brawl, go out into the street, in here I just won’t have it. Have the people gone out of their minds?”

“That’s well and good!” a couple of the guests cut in, “but we saw the whole thing!” And with people’s inclination to agree with the victor of the moment, they unconditionally side with Nagel. They explained it all to the hotel keeper.

Nagel himself shrugged his shoulders and walked over to Miniman. Without any preliminaries, he asked the little gray-haired fool, “What’s the relationship between you and that deputy, since he can treat you that way?”

“Oh, forget it!” Miniman replies. “There’s no relationship at all between us, he’s a stranger to me. I only danced for him once in Market Square, for ten øre. Anyway, he always makes fun of me.”

“So you dance for people and charge a fee for it?”

“Yes, now and then. But it doesn’t happen very often, only when I need the money and can’t get my hands on ten øre any other way.”

“And what do you use the money for?”

“I need money for many things. In the first place, I’m a stupid man; I’m not very smart and it isn’t easy for me. When I was a sailor and supported myself, things were better in every way; but then I was injured—I fell from the rigging and ruptured myself, and since then I’ve had a hard time managing. I get my board and whatever else I need from my uncle, I also live with him, quite comfortably—in fact, we have plenty of everything, because my uncle makes his living as a coal dealer. But I do make a small contribution toward my support, especially now in the summertime when we sell hardly any coal. This is as true as I’m sitting here telling you. There are some days when ten øre comes in handy, I always buy something for the money and take it home. But as far as the deputy is concerned, he enjoys seeing me dance simply because I have a hernia and can’t dance properly.”

“So your uncle goes along with your dancing for pay like that in Market Square?”

“No, no, not at all, you mustn’t think that. He often says, ‘Away with that clown money!’ Yes, he often calls it clown money when I bring him my ten øre, and he scolds me because people make a laughingstock of me.”

“Well, this was the first thing. How about the second?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“How about the second.”

“I don’t follow.”

“You said that,
in the first place,
you were a stupid man. Well, what comes next, in the second place?”

“Oh, if I said so, I apologize.”

“So you’re just stupid?”

“I sincerely beg your pardon!”

“Was your father a parson?”

“Yes, my father was a parson.”

Pause.

“Listen,” Nagel says, “if you have nothing else to do, let’s go to my place for a while, up to my room, would you like that? Do you smoke? Good! This way, please, I live upstairs. I’ll be very grateful for your visit.”

To everyone’s great surprise, Nagel and Miniman went up to the second floor, where they spent the whole evening together.

MINIMAN FOUND A CHAIR for himself and lighted a cigar.

“You don’t drink, do you?” Nagel asked.

“No, I don’t drink much, it makes me confused, and before long I see double,” his visitor replied.

“Have you ever had champagne? Yes, of course you have?”

“Yes, many years ago, at my parents’ silver wedding; then I drank champagne.”

“Did it taste good?”

“Yes, I remember it tasted very good.”

Nagel rang and got some champagne.

As they sip at their glasses while smoking, Nagel suddenly says, looking intently at Miniman, “Tell me—well, it’s only a question and maybe you will find it ridiculous; but could you, for a certain sum, assume paternity for a child whose father you were not? Just an idea that crossed my mind.”

Miniman gazed at him with wide-open eyes and remained silent.

“For a modest sum, fifty kroner, or let’s say up to a couple of hundred kroner?” Nagel asks. “The exact amount doesn’t really matter.”

Miniman shakes his head and is silent for a long time.

“No,” he then replies.

“You couldn’t? I would pay the amount in cash.”

“It makes no difference. No, I couldn’t do it, I can’t be of any service to you in this.”

“Why not, exactly?”

“Don’t ask me, let me be. I’m a human being.”

“Well, maybe I asked for too much. Why should you do anyone a favor like that? But I would like to ask you one more question: Are you willing to—could you, for five kroner, go around town with a newspaper or a paper bag fastened to your back, starting from the hotel and walking by way of Market Square and the quays—could you do that? For five kroner?”

Miniman bows his head in shame and repeats mechanically, “Five kroner.” That was all he answered.

“Oh well, ten kroner if you like; let’s say ten kroner. So you could do it for ten, could you?”

Miniman brushes his hair from his forehead. “I can’t understand why all those who come here know in advance that I am a laughingstock to everybody,” he says.

“As you see, I can hand you the money right away,” Nagel goes on. “It’s all up to you.”

Miniman glues his eyes to the bill, stares helplessly at the money for a moment, licking his chops for it, and exclaims, “Yes, I—”

“Pardon me!” Nagel says quickly. “Pardon me for interrupting you,” he says again to prevent the other one from talking. “What’s your name? I don’t know—I don’t think you told me what your name is.”

“My name is Grøgaard.”

“Grøgaard. Are you related to the Grøgaard who was a member of the Constitutional Assembly?”

“Oh, yes.”

“What were we talking about? Grøgaard, indeed? Well, in that case you obviously wouldn’t want to earn these ten kroner that way, would you?”

“No,” Miniman whispers, vacillating.

“Now, listen to me,” Nagel says, speaking very slowly. “I’ll gladly give you this ten-krone bill because you
didn’t
want to do what I proposed to you. And, besides that, I’ll let you have another ten-krone bill if you’ll give me the pleasure of accepting it. Don’t jump up; this small good turn doesn’t bother me, I’ve got lots of money right now, quite a lot of money, it won’t cause me any financial difficulty.” Having taken out the money, Nagel added, “It’s a great pleasure to do this for you. There you are!”

Miniman is speechless, his good fortune is turning his head and he begins to fight back his tears. He blinks his eyes and swallows. Nagel says, “You must be around forty?”

“Forty-three, I’m past forty-three.”

“Now, put the money in your pocket. You’re most welcome! —What’s the name of that deputy we talked to in the café?”

“That I don’t know, we simply call him the deputy. He’s a deputy in the judge’s office.”

“Oh well, it’s of no importance. Tell me—”

“Pardon me!” Miniman can’t hold back any longer, he’s overwhelmed and absolutely wants to explain himself, though he stammers like a child. “I beg your pardon, please forgive me!” he says. And for a long time he can’t utter another word.

“What did you want to say?”

“Thank you, thank you sincerely from a sincere ...”

Pause.

“That’s all done with.”

“No, wait a moment!” Miniman cried. “Pardon me, but it’s not done with. You thought I didn’t
want
to do it, that it was obstinacy on my part and that I enjoyed putting up a fight; but as sure as there’s a God—. How can we say it’s done with if you may even have gotten the impression that I had my eyes solely on the reward and wouldn’t do it for five kroner?
¹
It was only this I wanted to say.”

“Very good. A man with your name and breeding can’t allow himself to play such foolish pranks, of course. I was just thinking—well, you obviously know this town inside out, do you not? You see, I mean to stay here for a while, to settle down here for several months this summer, in fact. What do you think of that? Are you from here?”

“Yes, this is where I was born. My father was a parson here, and I’ve lived here for the last thirteen years, since I became an invalid.”

“Do you deliver coal to people?”

“Yes, I take coal around to the houses in town. It doesn’t bother me, if that’s why you’re asking. I’m used to it, and it doesn’t do me any harm as long as I’m careful on the stairs. But last winter I fell, and it got so bad I had to use a stick for quite a while.”

“You did, indeed? How did that happen?”

“Well, it was on the steps of the bank, they were a bit icy. I’m coming up with a rather heavy sack. About halfway, I see Consul Andresen coming down high up. I want to turn around and go back down so the Consul can get by. He didn’t tell me to, it just came naturally and I would’ve done it regardless. But at that very moment I was unlucky enough to slip on the step and fall. I landed on my right shoulder.
²
‘How are you doing?’ the Consul asks, ‘you didn’t scream, so you haven’t hurt yourself, have you?’ ‘No,’ I reply, ‘I guess I was lucky.’ But less than five minutes later I fainted twice in a row; besides, my abdomen swelled up because of my old ailment. By the way, the Consul remembered me generously afterward, though he was in no way to blame.”

“You didn’t suffer any other damage? You didn’t hurt your head?”

“Oh yes, I hurt my head a little. I was also spitting blood for a while.”

“And the Consul helped you during the time you were ill?”

“Yes, splendidly. He sent me all sorts of things, he didn’t forget me for a single day. But best of all, the day I was up and about again and went to the Consul’s to thank him, he had already hoisted the flag. He had expressly ordered the flag to be hoisted in my honor, though it was also Miss Fredrikke’s birthday.”

“Who is Miss Fredrikke?”

“She’s his daughter.”

“I see. Well, that was nice of him.... Oh say, you wouldn’t know why the flags were flying in town a few days ago, would you?”

“A few days ago? Let me see, was it a little over a week ago? Then it must’ve been because of Miss Kielland’s engagement, Dagny Kielland’s engagement. Sure, they get engaged, marry and leave town one after another. I’ve got friends and acquaintances all over the country practically by now, and there isn’t a single one among them I wouldn’t like to meet again. I’ve seen them play, go to school, get confirmed and grow up, all of them. Dagny is only twenty-three, and she’s the darling of the whole town. She’s handsome, too. She got engaged to Lieutenant Hansen, who once gave me this here cap. He’s also from here.”

“Is Miss Kielland a blonde?”

“Yes, she’s a blonde. She’s exceptionally beautiful and everyone’s fond of her.”

“I believe I saw her over by the parsonage. Does she usually carry a red parasol?”

“Exactly! And no one else here has a red parasol, as far as I know. If you saw a lady with a thick flaxen braid down her back, that was her. She’s like nobody else around here. But perhaps you haven’t talked to her yet?”

“Oh yes, I may have talked to her, too.” And Nagel adds pensively to himself, Was
that
Miss Kielland?

“Ah, but not properly; you didn’t have a long talk with her, did you? That’s something you can look forward to. She laughs out loud when she’s amused by something, and often she laughs at just about anything, she’s so lighthearted.
³
If you get to talk with her, you’ll see how attentively she listens to what you’re saying, until you’ve finished, and then she’ll answer you. And when she answers, her cheeks often turn red. That’s how she is, it goes to her head; I’ve often noticed this when she’s been talking to someone, and then she becomes very beautiful.
⁴
But with me it’s different; she chats with me when it so happens and doesn’t stand on ceremony. For example, if I walked up to her on the street, she would pause and give me her hand even if she was in a hurry. If you don’t believe me, just pay attention sometime.”

“I can well believe it. So Miss Kielland is a good friend of yours?”

“In the sense, simply, that she’s always patient with me. It cannot be otherwise. I go to the parsonage now and then when I’m invited, and as far as I can see I haven’t been unwelcome even when I went there uninvited. When I was sick Miss Dagny even lent me books; in fact, she brought them herself, carrying them under her arm all the way.”

“What sort of books could that have been?”

“You mean, what sort of books could it have been, since I was able to read and understand them?”

“This time you misunderstand me. Your question is very shrewd, but you misunderstand me. You are an interesting man. I meant, what sort of books does the young lady herself own and read? I would be happy to know.”

“Once, I remember, she brought me Garborg’s
Peasant Students
and two others; one, I think, was Turgenev’s
Rudin.
On another occasion she read aloud to me from Garborg’s
The Irreconcilables.

“And they were her own books?”

“Well, they were her father’s. They had her father’s name in them.”
⁵

“By the way, that time you went to Consul Andresen to thank him, as you were saying—”

“Well, I wanted to thank him for his help.”

“Certainly. But had the flag already been hoisted before you arrived that day?”

“Yes, he’d had it hoisted for my sake. He told me so himself.”

“Ah, there you see. So it wouldn’t be in honor of his daughter’s birthday that the flag was up?”

“Oh yes, I suppose it was. That might very well be, and that’s fine, too. It would’ve been a shame not to put up the flag on Miss Fredrikke’s birthday.”

“You’re certainly right there.... From one thing to another, how old is your uncle?”

“He’s about seventy, I think. No, maybe not, but he’s over sixty anyway. He’s very old, but vigorous for his age. He can still read without glasses in a pinch.”