Part 8

Rolandsen was offended; had he himself no right in the case? “Your father can do as he pleases,” he said.

Ho, so that was his tone! But Elise breathed heavily as before, and said, “Why do you look at me like that? Don’t you know me again?”

Grace and kindliness without end. Rolandsen answered, “As to knowing again or not, that’s as folk themselves will have it.”

Pause. Then said Elise at last, “But surely you can see, after what you’ve done ... still, it’s worst for yourself.”

“Good! Let it be worst for myself then. I’m not going to be called to account by all and sundry--I won’t stand it. Your father can have me locked up if he likes.”

She turned without a word and left him....

* * * * *

Rolandsen waited for two days--waited for three, but there came none to the organ-blower’s house to arrest him. He was in dire excitement. He had written out his telegrams, ready to send off the moment he was arrested; he would accept the highest bid for his invention, and sell the patent. Meantime, he was not idle; he kept the foreign firms busy with negotiations about this and that, such as purchase of the falls above Mack’s factory, and guarantees of transport facilities. All these matters were left in his hands for the present.

But Mack was not inclined to persecute a fellow-creature just now; on the contrary, his business was going excellently, and as long as things went well, it pleased him far more to be generous beyond need. A new telegram from the agent in Bergen had informed him that the fish was sold to Russia; if Mack had need of money, money was at his disposal. Altogether, Mack was getting on swimmingly again.

When over a week had passed without any change, Rolandsen went down to Mack’s office again. He was worn out with anxiety and uncertainty; he felt he must have a decision.

“I’ve been waiting a week, and you haven’t had me arrested yet,” he said.

“Young man,” said Mack indulgently, “I have been thinking over your affair....”

“Old man,” said Rolandsen violently, “you’ll please to settle it now! You think you can go on for ever and ever and be mightily gracious as long as you please, but I’ll soon put a stop to that. I’ll give myself up to the police.”

“Really, this tone,” said Mack, “it’s not what I should have expected from you, considering....”

“I’ll show you what you can expect from me,” cried Rolandsen, with unnecessary arrogance. And he flung down his telegrams on the desk. Rolandsen’s big nose looked even more aggressive than usual, since he had got thinner in the face.

Mack glanced through the messages. “So you’ve turned inventor?” he said carelessly. But as he read on, he screwed up his eyes intently. “Fish-glue,” said he at last. And then he went through the telegrams once more.

“This looks very promising,” he said, looking up. “Am I to understand you’ve been offered all this money for a fish-glue process of your own?”

“Yes.”

“Then I congratulate you. But surely you must feel it beneath your dignity now to behave rudely towards an old man.”

“You’re right there, of course; yes. But I’m all worn out with anxiety. You said you were going to have me arrested, and nothing’s happened.”

“Well, I may as well tell you the truth; I meant to do so. But other people interfered.”

“Who interfered?”

“H’m! You know what women are. There’s that daughter of mine, Elise. And she said no.”

“That--that’s very strange,” said Rolandsen.

Mack looked at the telegrams once more. “This is excellent,” he said. “Couldn’t you give me some idea of the thing itself?”

Rolandsen explained a little of the process.

“That means, we’re to some extent competitors,” said Mack.

“Not to some extent only. From the moment I’ve sent off my answer, we’re competitors in earnest.”

“Eh?” Mack started. “What do you mean? Are you going to set up a factory yourself?”

“Yes. There’s water-power higher up, beyond your place, and more of it, and easier to work.”

“But that’s Levion’s water.”

“I’ve bought it.”

Mack wrinkled up his forehead thoughtfully. “Good! We’re competitors, then,” he said.

Said Rolandsen, “That means you will lose.”

But Mack, the man of power, was growing more and more offended; he was not accustomed to this sort of thing, and not disposed to put up with it.

“You’re strangely forgetful, young man; you keep on forgetting that you’re in my power,” said he.

“Do as you please. If you lock me up now, my turn will come later, that’s all.”

“What--what will you do then?”

“Ruin you,” said Rolandsen.

Frederik came in. He saw at once that the two had been having words, and it annoyed him that his father did not settle this big-nosed ex-telegraph person out of hand.

Then said Rolandsen aloud, “I will make you an offer: we can take up this invention together. Make the necessary alterations in your factory, and I’ll take over the management there. That’s my offer--and it holds good for twenty-four hours!”

Whereupon Rolandsen strode out, leaving the telegrams with Mack.

XV

Autumn was setting in; the wind rushing through the woods, the sea yellow and cold, and a great awakening of stars in the sky. But Ove Rolandsen had no time now for watching meteor flights, though he’d as great a fancy as ever for such things. There had been gangs of men at work on Mack’s factory of late, pulling down here and setting up there, under orders from Rolandsen, who managed it all. He had settled all difficulties now, and was a man of mark.

“I knew he would get on,” said Old Mack. “I believed in him all along.”

“I did not,” said proud Elise. “The way he goes about now. It’s as if he’d been the saving of us all.”

“Oh, it’s not as bad as that,” said Mack.

“He says a word of greeting when he passes, but he never stops for a reply. He just walks on.”

“Ah! he’s busy, that’s all.”

“He’s sneaked into the family, that’s what he’s done,” said Elise, her lips a little pale. “Wherever we are, he’s sure to be there too. But if he’s any ideas in his head about me, he’s very much mistaken.”

Elise went back to town.

And everything went on as usual, as if one could do without her well enough. But it was this way now with Rolandsen: from the time he had entered into partnership with Mack, he had promised himself to do good work and not waste time in dreaming of other things. Dreams and fancies for the summer-time--and then best to stop. But some go dreaming all their lives; go fluttering mothwise all their lives, and never can make an end. Now here was Jomfru van Loos in Bergen. Rolandsen had had a letter from her, to say she didn’t really never at all make out as he was beneath her, seeing he hadn’t demeaned himself with burglary and thieving after all, but only doing it for monkey tricks and fun. And that she took back her words about breaking it off, if so be it wasn’t too late and couldn’t be altered.

Elise Mack came home again in October. It was said she was properly engaged now, and her betrothed, Henrik Burnus Henriksen, captain of the coasting vessel, was visiting her. There was to be a grand ball in the great hall at Rosengaard, and a troupe of wandering musicians, on their way down from Finmarken, had been hired to play flutes and trumpets on the night. All the village was invited, Rolandsen with the rest, and Olga was to be there, and be received as Frederik Mack’s intended. But the Vicarage people were, unfortunately, prevented. A new chaplain had been appointed, and was expected every day, and the present incumbent, good man, was going elsewhere, up to the northward, where another flock needed his care. He was not altogether displeased to be going away now, to plough and sow new ground; he had not always been happy in his work here. He could look back upon a great deal accomplished; he had got Levion’s sister to call to mind the one man who owed her marriage. It was the village carpenter, a house-owner, a man of property, and with money stored under his pillow. When the priest joined them together before the altar, it was with a feeling of satisfaction. After all, unceasing toil might here and there bear fruit among the benighted.

All things came right in time--and praise the Lord, thought the priest. His household was in something nearer order now, the new housekeeper had come, and old and reliable she was; he would take her with him and keep her on at the new place. All would come right in time, no doubt. The priest had been a hard man to deal with, but none seemed to bear him enmity for that. When he stepped on board down at the waterside, there were many had come to see him off. As for Rolandsen, he would not let slip this opportunity of showing courtesy. Mack’s boat was there already with three men, waiting for him, but he would not go on board until the Vicarage folk had gone. In spite of all, the priest could not but thank him for so much consideration. And as Lay-helper Levion had carried the new priest’s lady ashore when first they came, so now he carried her on board again as well. Matters were looking brighter now for Levion, too, seeing the priest had undertaken to say a word for his reinstatement in his former post.

All would come right, no doubt.

“Now if you weren’t going north and I south,” said Rolandsen, “we might go together.”

“Yes,” said the priest. “But let us remember, my dear Rolandsen, that we may go north and we may go south, but we shall all meet again in one place at the last!” Thus spoke the priest in priestly wise, and was unshaken to the last.

Fruen sat in the stern, wearing the same pitiful shoes; they had been patched, but were grown most heartily ugly thereby. Yet she was not downcast for that; far from it; her eyes shone, and she was joyful at the thought of coming to some new place, to see what there might be. Though she could not help feeling a wistful regret for a big grey pebblestone that her husband would not let her put in her trunk, for all it was so pretty to see.

They pushed off from land, and there was a waving of hats and sou’westers and handkerchiefs, and calling “_Farvel!_” from the boat and from the shore.

Then Rolandsen went on board. He had to be at Rosengaard that evening; a double engagement was to be celebrated, and here again he could not let slip the chance of being polite. Mack’s boat had no pennant at the mast, wherefore he had borrowed a magnificent one of huge dimensions on his own account, and had it hoisted before setting out.

He came to Rosengaard that evening. The great trading station was evidently decked for a festival; there were lights in the windows on both floors, and the ships in the harbour were fluttering their flags, though it was already dark. Rolandsen said to his men, “Go ashore now, and send three others to relieve; I shall be starting back to the factory at midnight.”

Frederik Mack came out at once to receive him, and Frederik was in high spirits. He had now every hope of getting that berth as mate; then he would be able to marry, and be something on his own account. Old Mack too was pleased, and wore the decoration given him by the King on the royal visit to Finmarken. Neither Elise nor Captain Henriksen were to be seen--cooing somewhere by themselves, no doubt.

Rolandsen took a glass or so, and set himself to be quiet and strong. He sat down with Old Mack, and talked over various matters of business: this dye-stuff, now, that he had discovered; it had seemed a trifle at first, but already it looked like becoming a main product, perhaps the chief of all. He needed machinery and plant, apparatus for distilling. Elise came by; she looked Rolandsen full in the face and said, “_Godaften_” out loud, and nodded. Rolandsen stood up and bowed, but she walked by.

“She’s very busy this evening,” said Mack.

“And we shall have to have everything in readiness before the Lofoten fishing begins,” said Rolandsen, sitting down again. Ho-ho! He was not to be crushed, not to be in the least put out by any sort of feeling!--“I still think the best thing to do would be to charter a small steamer and send up, with Frederik as master.”

“Frederik may be getting another post now. But we can talk it all over to-morrow; there’s plenty of time.”

“I am going back to-night.”

“Nonsense!” said Mack. “There’s no earthly need for that.”

Rolandsen stood up and said shortly, “At midnight.” Firm and inflexible, that was the way.

“Well, really, I had thought you would stay the night. On a special occasion like this. I think I may call it something of a special occasion.”

They walked about among the others, stopping to exchange a few words here and there. Rolandsen encountered Captain Henriksen, and they drank together as if they had been old friends, though neither had seen the other before. The Captain was a cheery fellow, a trifle stout.

Then the music struck up, tables were laid in three rooms, and Rolandsen behaved admirably in choosing himself a place well apart from the most distinguished guests. Mack, making a round of the tables, found him there, and said, “What, are you sitting here? Well, now, I was going to....”

Said Rolandsen, “Not at all, thanks very much; we can hear your speech quite nicely from here.”

Mack shook his head. “No, I’m not going to make any speech.” And he moved off with a thoughtful air, as if something had upset him.

The meal went on; there was much wine, and a great buzz of voices. When the coffee came round, Rolandsen started writing out a wire. It was to Jomfru van Loos in Bergen, to say it was by no means too late and couldn’t be altered, come north soonest possible.--Yours, OVE.

And that was well, all things were excellently well--delightful! He went down himself to the station and sent off the wire. Then he went back to the house. There was more life and movement about the tables now; guests changed places; Elise came through to where he sat, and offered her hand. She begged him to excuse her having passed by so hurriedly before.

“If you only knew how lovely you are again this evening,” said he, and was calm and polite.

“Do you think so, now?”

“I always did think so. I’m an old admirer of yours, you know. Don’t you remember last year, when I actually proposed to you?”

But she did not seem to like his tone now, and went away for the time being. But a little later he came upon her again. Frederik had led out his lady, the dancing had begun, and no one took any notice of a couple talking together.

Said Elise, “Oh, by the way, I’ve heard from an old acquaintance of yours, Jomfru van Loos.”

“Have you, though?”

“She heard I was going to be married, and wants to come and keep house for me. I believe she’s a very good housekeeper. But of course you know her better than I do.”

“She is very clever, yes. But she can’t come and keep house for you.”

“Oh...?”

“Seeing I’ve wired her this evening offering her another post. She’s engaged to me now.”

Proud Elise started at that, and looked hard at him. “I thought it was over between you,” she said.

“Oh, well, you know what they say about old love.... It _was_ all over at one time, but now....”

“I see,” said Elise.

Then said Rolandsen, magnificently polite, “I can’t help saying you’ve never been so lovely as you are to-night! And then your dress, that dark-red velvet dress....”

He felt very pleased with himself after that speech; no one could ever imagine the least unrest behind it.

“You didn’t seem to care so very much for her,” said Elise.

He saw that her eyes were dewed, and he winced. A little strangeness in her voice, too, confused him, and the look on his face changed suddenly.

“Where’s your splendid coolness now?” she asked, and smiled.

“You’ve taken it,” he said in a low voice.

Then suddenly she stroked his hand, a single touch, and left him. She hurried in through the rooms, seeing none and hearing nothing, only hurrying on. In the passage stood her brother, and he called to her; she turned her all-smiling face full towards him, and the tears dripped from her lashes; then she ran upstairs to her room.

A quarter of an hour later her father came up. She flung her arms round his neck and said, “I can’t!”

“Eh? No, no. But you must come down again and dance; they’re asking after you. And what have you been saying to Rolandsen? He’s changed so all in a moment. Have you been rude to him again?”

“Oh no, no, I wasn’t rude to him....”

“Because if you were, you’ll have to put it right at once. He’s leaving at twelve o’clock to-night.”

“Leaving at twelve!” Elise was ready in a moment, and said, “I’m coming down at once.”

She went downstairs, and found Captain Henriksen.

“I can’t,” said she.

He made no answer.

“I dare say it’s so much the worse for me, but I simply can’t.”

“Very well, then,” was all he said.

She could not give any further explanation, and the Captain apparently having no more to say, nothing more was said. Elise went down to the telegraph station and telegraphed Jomfru van Loos, Bergen, not to accept Ove Rolandsen’s offer, same being again not seriously meant. Await letter.--ELISE MACK.

Then she went home and joined the dancers again.

“Is it true you’re leaving at twelve to-night?” she asked Rolandsen.

“Yes.”

“Then I’m going with you to the factory. I’ve something to do there.”

And she stroked his hand once more.

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