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A short story by Anthon B. E. Nilsen |
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The Admiral |
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Title: The Admiral Author: Anthon B. E. Nilsen [More Titles by Nilsen] Some people seem to have the privilege of being as rude and ill-mannered as they please. They are generally to be found among those whose superior share of this world's goods enables them to lord it over the little circle in which they move. They may be compared to bumble-bees that rarely sting, and only upon provocation. Ordinarily, they are very harmless, and for my part I much prefer a bumble-bee to the dainty and delicate mosquitoes that look so innocent, as they smilingly perforate the epidermis of a fellow-creature with a thousand little stabs. "The Admiral" was a big bumble-bee. As a young officer in the navy he had been a reckless blade, and, having gained the rank of lieutenant, was obliged to leave the service for some piece of insubordination. He then entered the navy of a minor eastern power, where his dominant qualities of impudence and unscrupulousness were appreciated to such a degree that he rose to the rank of Admiral. Hence the title. It was stated that he "flogged niggers and shot down cannibals," without the formality of trial by jury--or indeed any formality at all. Thanks to the Admiral's zeal, the two gunboats which constituted the navy in question were kept in excellent order, but as the four guns of the combined fleet enabled him to command the capital, including the government, he became a trifle over-bearing. One day, when the King came on board to pay a visit of inspection, with his two wives, the Admiral declared that he would keep the younger lady for himself, a wife being one of the items lacking in the inventory on board. The King, as a good husband, naturally declined to entertain the idea. Had it been the elder of the two, the matter might perhaps have been discussed, but as the Admiral stubbornly insisted on taking the younger, the parties exchanged words, and, ultimately, blows. This stage having been reached, the Admiral took his sovereign by the scruff of the neck, and his queen by the stern, and heaved the pair of them overboard. Fortunately the gunboat was not far off shore, and their majesties, who could swim like fishes, made straight for land. But the waters thereabouts are infested with sharks, and they were forced to put on full speed to escape with their lives. The Admiral and the younger consort stood on the deck of the gunboat, watching the august swimmers with interest through a glass. The King, having scrambled ashore, stalked solemnly up to his palm-shack palace, clenched his fist and shook it violently at the Admiral, vociferating "schandalous." This was a word he had learned from a German Jew, who traded in glass beads, and adorned his notepaper and visiting-cards with the inscription: "By Royal Warrant to His Majesty the King of Zumba-Lumba." Now the King knew nothing of revolution, not even the name, and there was not a bolshevik to be found in all his dominions. Nevertheless, he felt instinctively that the Admiral's behaviour was an outrage against the supreme authority vested in himself by right divine. But what could he do against the Admiral and his four guns? Of the four hundred warriors that composed his army, only about half were armed with muskets of an ancient type, procured by the Admiral himself in days gone by. And the ammunition amounted to practically nil, the Admiral having been far-sighted enough to store most of the cartridges on board the gunboats, serving out a small allowance now and then to the King and his army, wherewith to keep lions and tigers at a respectful distance from the huts of the capital. The King thought over the matter for quite a while, and at last sent for one of his numerous brothers-in-law. Here, as in other kingdoms, the family relationship was a most useful factor, providing a kind of mutual insurance in support of the throne. His Majesty's kinsman, then, was appointed Envoy Extraordinary and Minister Plenipotentiary, and instructed to proceed, in that capacity, to the neighbouring territory of Hampa-Denga, and inform the British Resident there that His Majesty the King of Zumba-Lumba wished to place himself under British protectorate at once. One morning, a few days later, the Admiral lay in his hammock on deck, H.M.'s late consort in another hammock at his side, fanning him with a palm-branch. He was in the best of spirits, refreshed alike by his morning bath and an excellent breakfast. The parrots were chattering noisily in the great fragrant agaves on shore, birds of paradise rocked on the topmost crests of the palms, with impertinent young monkeys vainly trying to tweak their tails. The ex-queen chewed betel and smiled at him, and he, in return, tickled the soles of her feet till she screamed. It was a perfect little idyll; a very paradise. Neither of the pair noticed anything unusual until suddenly a young English officer appeared on deck. He had come, it appeared, to deliver a dispatch to the Officer Commanding the Fleet. And this is how it ran: "SIR,--Pursuant to negotiations with His Majesty the King of Zumba-Lumba, I have the honour to inform you that His Majesty has this day placed himself under British protectorate. The Admiral's first impulse was to take this young spark by the collar and throw him overboard, as he had done a day or so before with His Majesty and his wife. But on glancing over the side, he perceived, under shelter of a small island, the white painted hull of H.M.S. Cyclope, and thought better of it; instead, he turned to the bearer of the letter, and, with kindly condescension, invited him to come below and have a drink. Whereupon they descended to the cabin, where the Admiral initiated his young colleague into the maritime affairs of the Zumba-Lumba. Then the Admiral packed up his things. He regretted that he had not a visiting-card, not even a photograph to give his successor, but handed over instead the younger wife of his late master as a trifling souvenir. On reaching the deck, to his indescribable annoyance he perceived the King, with his brother-in-law, his four hundred warriors, and the elder wife, standing on the shore, slapping their stomachs, the superlative expression of mischievous delight in those parts. The foregoing brief narrative is to be taken as a truthful and dispassionate account of the manner in which the Admiral attained his title and dignity. The remainder of his doings during his sojourn abroad, before he returned to settle down in his native town on the coast, is soon told. The Admiral was not a man to be long idle, and, as a sailor, he could always find a way. He captained vessels for Chinese and Japanese owners, both sail and steam. He started a fleet of tugs at Tientsin, and obtained a concession for dredging the harbour of Shanghai, with a host of other things, making a very considerable fortune out of the whole. Then he turned his steps towards home, and purchased the house of his fathers on the hill just above the Custom House. He dismantled the old place almost entirely of its furniture, and had it fitted up according to his own ideas, as a sort of bungalow. There were weapons all over the place; spears, bows and arrows, pistols and guns of all sorts. Pot-bellied idols smirked in every corner; lion and tiger skins were spread on the floor. But the drawing-room on the ground floor and the office in the side wing, that had been his father's in the old days, he left untouched. He even went so far as to have the successive layers of wallpaper, that in course of years had been hung one over another, carefully removed one by one until he came to the identical one that had adorned the place when he was a little lad and his mother and father were still alive. Then he went about all over the town, trying to buy up the old pieces of furniture that had been sold and scattered about thirty or forty years before. He went far up into one of the outlying villages to get hold of one particular birchwood cabinet which he had learned was to be found there. He also managed to unearth his father's old writing-desk, and had it set up in its old place in the "office." And at last he really succeeded in restoring the two rooms almost completely to their former state. Then and not till then was he satisfied, and began, as it were, to live his life over again. The Admiral was now a man about sixty. A giant of a man to look at, with hands and arms of an athlete and well proportioned. He had a big, curved nose, a trifle over large, perhaps. And the eyes that shone out from beneath the great bushy brows were not of the sort that give way. His whole face bore the stamp of unscrupulous firmness, softened a little, however, by the heavy whiskers generally affected by naval officers in those days, and which in his case were now perfectly white. When the Admiral came home he brought with him a little girl twelve years old. A queer little creature she was, with somewhat darker skin than we are accustomed to see, and brilliant black eyes. "My daughter," said the Admiral, and that was all the information to be obtained from that quarter. It was generally surmised that she must be the offspring of his alliance with the young Queen of Zumba-Lumba, who had, as we know, been on board the gunboat; ergo, she was of royal blood. And the whole town accordingly styled her simply "The Princess." As to whether he had contracted other alliances elsewhere none could say, for the old servant, or lady companion, whom he had brought with him from abroad, was dumb as a door-post when the talk turned in that direction. She was English and somewhat over fifty. Miss Jenkins was her name, but the Admiral invariably called her "Missa." Missa was the only person who ever ventured to oppose him. Now and then the pair of them might be heard arguing hotly, always in English, till at last he would shout at her: "Mind your own business, please!" This was his stock phrase for terminating an argument when he did not care to discuss the matter further. The Princess was to be confirmed. And there was a great to-do in view of the event. The parson, naturally enough, requested the usual particulars--parents' names, place of birth, date, certificate of vaccination, etc. The whole town was curious now, and great excitement prevailed; at last the mystery would be solved. The parson had to go down to the Admiral himself, and inform him, as politely as possible, that the law required compliance with certain formalities; an especially important point was that the names of both father and mother should be correctly stated. "She has no mother," the Admiral categorically declared. "But, my dear Admiral, she must have had a mother. In the ordinary course of nature...." "The course of nature's extraordinary where she comes from." "But you must have been married, surely?" The Admiral glared, and his bushy brows contracted. "Who?" "You." "I?" The Admiral chuckled. "Yes," said the parson, lowering his voice a little; he was beginning to feel a trifle uncomfortable. "Oh, in the tropics, you know, there are no such formalities." "But surely that's immoral?" "We don't know the word in those parts." And the Admiral rose to his feet. The parson plucked up courage and said quietly: "But you yourself were a Christian, Admiral, were you not?" "Mind your own business, please," answered the Admiral, at the same time opening the door politely, that the parson might slip out. The latter also availed himself of the chance; he was not without a certain uneasy feeling that if he failed to do so now, his exit might take a less peaceable form. How the question was finally settled the writer cannot say; the fact remains that the town was no wiser than before. The Princess was confirmed, and received into the best society of the town, as one of themselves. She was slender and finely built, with a pretty face and charming eyes. The only thing that marked her as different from the other girls was the yellowish-brown of her skin, and even this seemed to be growing fainter as the years went by. As to her antecedents, she herself never referred to the subject, and no one was ever indelicate enough to ask her. Altogether, then, matters were going very well indeed, both for the Admiral and the Princess. He began to feel at home in his old town, and did not regret having settled down there. And the townsfolk, for the most part, gradually got used to the rough old fellow and his ways, though there were still a few who declared they could not "abide" him. Consul Endresen, for instance, and Henry B. Karsten the ship-chandler were not accustomed to be treated with such utter disregard by a so-called "Admiral." Admiral indeed! Ha, ha! The whole thing was a farce. The old humbug; he was no more an admiral than Ferryman Arne. They turned up their noses at him, but kept their distance all the same, with an instinctive feeling that he might literally go so far as to take them by the scruff of the neck if he felt like it. The two firms were old-established and respected in the place, having occupied a leading position in the commercial life of the town for generations, by reason of their wealth, superior education and incontestable ability. And in consequence neither felt at home elsewhere than in their native place, where they were used to play first fiddle generally. There was no competition between the two; they were wise enough to realise that any such conflicting element might easily destroy the lead their fathers had established. But they would not suffer any outsider to intrude on their domains, whether in business or in social life; here they shared in common an undisputed supremacy. The young Karstens and Endresens were brought up according to the principles of their respective dynasties, and were sent abroad for their commercial education, that they might be properly fitted for the distinguished position they would be called to fill. Skipper Hansen and Blacksmith Olsen's offspring found it was no easy matter to compete with them. Wealth, however, was the only thing they really respected at heart, the old as well as the younger generation. They would devote themselves several times a week to calculating how much the other notables might be worth, and were ill pleased that anyone should be better off than themselves. It was even said that old Karsten took to his bed out of sheer envy on hearing that someone else had made a heap of money. Endresen was wilier and rarely showed his feelings, but it was a well-known fact that he would be irritable and unreasonable when he heard of others making a successful deal. The clerks in his office said so. Then came the sudden appearance of the Admiral in their midst. At first they did not understand this brutal and domineering force. The old Karstens themselves had been accounted proud and haughty enough--though perhaps not exactly brutal; but they were, as we have said, of a privileged caste. But this so-called Admiral, what was he? A scion of the town, it is true, inasmuch as he was a son of the old shipbroker who had formerly occupied the house now purchased by the newcomer. But he, the father, that is, had been no more than a "measly broker," who had just managed to scrape some sort of a livelihood together by fixing contracts for the vessels owned by Endresens and selling coal to the Karstens' factories. The Admiral himself, however, was evidently rich, a man of unbounded wealth, indeed, and enough to buy up Endresen's and Karsten's together. His Income Tax Return spoke plainly in plain figures; no farce about that! The fact was there, and could not be ignored; an abominable thing, but none the less true. There was nothing for it but to give him his title of Admiral, and with a serious face. Had it been some poor devil without means, they would have jeered him out of the place. When the Admiral came striding up the main street, a stout, imposing figure, even Henry B. Karsten himself had to make way. He would wave one hand in salutation and say "Morning!" in English, using the same form of greeting to all, with the sole exception of Arne the Ferryman, who was always honoured with a shake of the hand. But the Princess fluttered about the place like a dainty little butterfly. Old Missa looked after her as well as she could, and never lost sight of her if she could help it. But the Princess seemed to have wings! She would manage somehow or other to vanish in a moment: presto! gone! And there was Missa left behind in despair. She would soon come fluttering back again, however, smiling and irresistible as ever, and throw her arms round Missa's neck and beg to be forgiven. The Admiral grumbled and swore he would "put the youngster in irons" if she did not keep to the house; but the youngster only laughed, perched herself on the Admiral's knee, and pulled his long white whiskers; and then he might fall to dreaming ... dreaming of distant lands, of moonlight nights beneath the palms and agaves, long and long ago. He fussed and grumbled and stamped about the house, calling Missa a lumbering old mud-barge that couldn't keep a proper look-out; but the Princess fluttered on as before, entirely undismayed. There was to be a grand festival in the town, a charity entertainment in aid of the Children's Home. All the young people of the town were to assist. There was to be a theatrical performance, and an exhibition of dancing on the stage. Young Endresen and Karsten junior, of course, took a leading part in the arrangements; "for a charitable object," they could do no less. It was generally understood, however, that the real object of both young gentlemen was to see something of the Princess. The two heirs-apparent waged a violent struggle for the Princess's favour. True, they had been duly instructed by their respective fathers, as these by their respective fathers before them, in the principle that "the house of Endresen" or "the house of Karsten" expected every son to do his duty--i.e. not to marry beneath his rank, and also, to "consolidate the standing of the firm," as it was conveniently put. As regards the question of rank, this was, in the present instance, a somewhat debatable one, but the question of consolidation was plain as could be wished. Here was a considerable fortune to be gained for the town, and thus for one of the two firms. It was certainly worth a struggle. The Admiral had grumbled and stormed for a whole week before consenting to the Princess participating in the affair. The Princess was to dance--a dance she had composed herself. There was great excitement; the local theatre was crammed. The leading notabilities of the place had booked up all the stalls at more than twice the usual prices. Everyone who could get about at all was present. Even old Endresen, who generally affected to despise all such theatrical tomfoolery, had found a seat in the front row, and confided to his next-door neighbour that he had seen "Pepita" dance in Paris--had even thrown her a bouquet--"but I was very young, then, I must say," he added, with a smile. Old folk in the town still told the story of how Endresen, as a young man, had led a gay life in Paris; a life so gay, and so expensive, that the Endresen senior of the period had promptly ordered him to come back home at once. "And he's turned out a real good man for all that," they would hasten to add. The theatrical performance went off quite successfully, but without arousing any great amount of enthusiasm. There was applause, of course, and the principal actors had to appear before the curtain; the leading lady was duly praised for her interpretation. But it was the Princess all were waiting for. At last the curtain rose. The scenery was ordinary enough: a "woodland scene," with the usual trees and a pale moon painted on the background. It was the standard setting, as used for classical tragedy, vaudeville and, in fact, almost anything. Enter the Princess, daintily as if on wings. She wore a long white robe, that moved in graceful waves about her slender figure; diamonds shone and glittered in her hair. No one present had ever seen such stones, and young Endresen swore they were genuine. She wore a row of pearls too round her neck, and heavy gold rings about her bare ankles. The spectators seemed literally to hold their breath with every nerve on the strain. The little figure up there was like a vision; her feet hardly touched the floor. First, she glided softly across the stage, her white robe rising and falling like the gentle swell of the sea on a summer's day, then faster and faster. She whirled round, bent right down to the ground, and fell in a heap, only to spring up again in a moment and whirl round again at a furious pace. The public was simply spell-bound. No one had ever seen, ever dreamed of such a sight. Her great black eyes shone towards them, while that queer smile played about her mouth; she seemed to move in a world of her own. The dusty old scenery faded into nothingness; they saw but the girl herself, and sat staring, enchanted, hypnotised. Gone! It was over. The curtain fell, and a silence as in church reigned for some seconds after; the spectators were getting their breath again, so to speak. Then something unusual happened. Old Endresen rose to his feet, clapped his hands and cried: "Encore, encore!" Forgotten were his seventy years, his dignity, everything; he was young again, young and infatuated as he had been in Paris half a century before, when he joined in the cry of the thousands shouting, "Vive Pepita, vive l'Espagne!" At last the general enthusiasm found vent in shouts of applause like the roar of a bursting dam. Handkerchiefs were waved; all rose to their feet. Then once more she glided in across the stage. Again an outburst of delighted applause. One young man in particular seemed intent on outdoing all the rest--a fair-haired little fellow with a snub nose and pince-nez. He sat in the stage box, and his shrill voice could be heard all over the theatre as he cried in unmistakable west coast dialect: "Bravo, bravissimo! Bravo, bravissimo!" All looked at him and laughed. It was Doffen Eriksen, or Doffen, simply, as he was generally called. He came from Mandal originally, but had been several years in the town, first as head clerk at Eriksen's, and later with other local firms. His natural tendency to continual opposition, and lack of respect for his superiors, indeed for all recognised authority, prevented him from ever keeping a situation long. He had recently gone over to the Socialist party, but at the very first meeting had abused his new comrades with emphasis: thieves, scoundrels and political mugwumps were among the expressions he used. The last in particular aroused their indignation, and after a few weeks he was excluded from the party. He was now a free-lance, with no regular employment. Then it happened that the Admiral advertised for an assistant to help in the office. The Admiral used his office chiefly as a place where he could give way to bad language as often as he pleased; he felt he ought to keep himself in training, and arguing with Missa was too milk and watery for his taste. The work in the office consisted for the most part of keeping the accounts of a couple of small vessels which he owned, together with the cutting out of coupons and cashier work. The Admiral himself never condescended to take up a pen; one had coolies to do that sort of thing, he would say. His two skippers were rated and bullied every time they came home from a voyage, but they were so used to the treatment that they never noticed it. It was worse, however, for the clerk, who had to endure the same thing day after day. During the last year or so, the Admiral had had four or five different specimens in the office, but they always made haste to better themselves at the earliest opportunity, or simply "got the sack." They were all either "a pack of fools that couldn't think for themselves," or "a lot of impertinent donkeys that fancied they knew everything." And when, after one of his usual outbursts, the unfortunate in question found it too much, and gave notice to leave, the Admiral's standard answer was "All right! then I'll have to get another idiot from somewhere." Doffen applied for the post, referring to his previous experience, and stated that he had been "simply thrown out of various situations, not through any lack of ability, but because the principals were so many blockheads, who could not bear to hear a free and independent man express his frank opinion." He was at present disengaged, on the market, and perfectly willing to undertake any kind of work whatever, "even to playing croquet." The Admiral read the application through; it was the only one he had received in answer to his advertisement. He grunted once or twice as he read. Missa laid down her needlework and prepared for a direct attack. The opening seemed to take his fancy, but when he came to the part about playing croquet, he exclaimed: "What the devil does the fellow mean? Playing croquet?" "Who?" "Oh, the new slave I'm getting for the office." "Well, why not. He might play with Baby." "Oh go to...." The Admiral got up and put the application into the fire. Next day Doffen, as the sole applicant, was accorded the post. He sat down at the high desk, on one of those scaffold-like office stools with a big wooden screw in the middle. It was a matter of some difficulty to climb up, Doffen being small of stature, but with the aid of some acrobatic backwork, he soon learned to manage it. Opposite his place was the Admiral's seat. He loved to sit there, in the very spot where his father had sat, year after year, as far back as he could remember. It was not often the Admiral showed any evidence of gentler feeling, but it happened at times, when very old folk chanced to come into the office. They would stand still for a long time, looking round in wonder, and finally exclaim: "Why, if it's not exactly as it used to be in your father's time!" and then the Admiral would jump down from his stool and slap the speaker on the shoulder. During the first few days Doffen had not seen much of the Admiral, who had hardly looked in at the office at all. He wanted to get some idea of the "new slave's" manner and behaviour before he sat down. On the day after the performance, the Admiral walked in and took his seat. Silence for a few minutes. At last Doffen thought he ought to say something, and observed with the utmost coolness: "Your daughter danced very nicely last night." "H'm." The Admiral only grunted, and looked out of the window. Doffen imagined he had not heard. "I was saying, Admiral, your daughter gave a deuced fine performance last night." Doffen raised his voice a little, thinking the Admiral must be hard of hearing. "And what the devil's that got to do with you?" Doffen slammed down the lid of his desk with a bang. "To do with me? Why, I paid for my ticket, anyway." "I didn't ask her to dance for you, my lad, and devil take me but it shall be the last time." "What's that to do with me?" retorted Doffen coldly. The Admiral began to feel in his element; here at last was a man who could stand up to him. "Can't you see she's like a young palm? Haven't you got a spice of feeling in you, man?" "That's my business, Admiral." The Admiral stopped short. He was on the point of bringing out his own favourite retort: "Mind your own business," and here was this fellow taking the very words out of his mouth. He went out of the room without a word. Several times after that the Admiral launched his attacks at the new clerk, but invariably got as good as he gave. More than that, Doffen would even take the offensive himself. "What do you think you're doing with these two hulks of yours, Admiral, eh?" "Hulks?" "Yes, these two old wooden arks. The skippers go floundering about like hunted cockroaches at sea, and the ships themselves go pottering from pillar to post; it's high time you got some system into the business." "You mind your own business, please," said the Admiral, rapping on the desk. But at that the other let himself go in his barbarous dialect, like a gramophone: "It is my business, and as long as I'm stuck here on this spindle-shanked contrivance of a stool I'll say what I think. Take me for a dumb beast, do you? Not me! It'll take more than you know to stop me talking. We're used to rough weather where I come from." And Doffen went on in the same strain long after the Admiral had got out of the room. The Admiral himself, however, listened with delight from the other side of the door, as Doffen thumped his desk again and again, still in the full torrent of speech. It was worth while going to the office now. No more sitting glowering at a servile, stooping-shouldered little scrap of a man, who scribbled away for dear life and shrank in terror every time he entered. Now he would generally find the room in a thick haze of tobacco smoke so that he himself could scarcely breathe. Doffen's pipe was rarely out of his mouth. Several times the Admiral had invited him, in well-chosen words, to take his beastly pipe to a hotter place, but only to be met with the retort that it might be as well, seeing there was never a box of matches here when a man wanted a light. The Admiral came more and more often to the office now. Here at least he could be sure of getting a fair go at any time, for Doffen was always open for a game. After a while a tone of jovial roughness grew up between the two of them, and authority was relegated to the background, exactly as Doffen wished. Altogether there was every prospect of an idyllic understanding between the two parties, until one day Doffen fell in love, over head and ears in love beyond recall. The Princess had captivated him completely. If she chanced to come into the office for a stamp, or to deliver a letter, his heart would start hammering like a riveting machine. His brain was so confused he hardly knew what he was doing. He would lie awake at nights in a torment of hatred against the Endresen and Karsten boys, who were rivals for her favour. And, after all, who was better fitted than he? Had he not got the Admiral's papers into proper order? Had he not managed to knock the old porpoise himself into shape, till he was grown docile and tractable as a tame rabbit? The Princess smiled on Doffen as she smiled on everyone, and each of course fancied himself specially favoured. Even old Consul Endresen brightened up at the sight of her, and was always ready to stop for a chat; he would draw himself up and endeavour to play the gallant cavalier. He had been a widower now for many years, and it was commonly believed that he was not unwilling to enter once more into the bonds of holy matrimony, should a favourable opportunity occur. The Admiral growled fiercely whenever Baby was out, and Missa wept and wrung her hands over the young ladies of the present day--particularly in this barbarous country. Paying attentions? It was one continual paying of attentions all day long. The young men of the place were sick with longing when she was not to be seen, and Doffen suffered most, having occasion to see her every day. To make matters worse, she had taken to coming into the office more frequently of late, and would perch herself up on her father's high stool. There she would sit and gossip with him for half an hour at a time. Six times a week at least Doffen was in the seventh heaven of delight. She asked him questions about everything under the sun, consulting him on every imaginable subject. And then she would thank him with one of those wonderful smiles, and a look from those dark eyes of hers--oh, it was beyond all bearing. Doffen pondered long and deep, seeking some way of coming to the point. He must not let the others get there before him, and he decided on a coup de main, which, as he had read in the life of Napoleon, was the proper way to win a battle. He would go directly to the Admiral himself. One morning, then, the Admiral came into the office, looked long and attentively at Doffen, and finally said: "What's the matter with you, man? You're getting to look like a plucked goose, for all the sign of life in you!" And he jumped up on his stool. "It's a dog's life being a man," declared Doffen sententiously. "You find it easier, no doubt, to be a monkey," said the Admiral. "Well, anyway, I'd be a sort of relative of yours," said Doffen. "And it's as well to be on good terms with the devil, they say." The Admiral laughed. This was a bad sign. Ugh! So Doffen was going to be funny, and make jokes. That sort of polite conversation was a thing the Admiral detested; it was blank tomfoolery; soup without salt. No; what he enjoyed was proper high temper on both sides like a couple of flints striking sparks. Anything short of that made life a washy, milk-and-watery dreariness. And most people, according to his opinion, were just a set of slack-kneed molly-coddles that sheered off at the first encounter. Devil take their measly souls! When he did happen to meet with a fellow-citizen who could get into a proper towering passion, he felt like falling on his neck out of sheer gratitude and admiration. Here, at last, was a man! Women he placed in a separate category: they were "fellow-creatures," just as rabbits, for instance, whose chief business in life was to have young ones. Doffen, then, ought to have realised that the moment was not opportune for a coup de main. He had, however, only the day before, seen the Princess out for a long walk with young Endresen, and he felt he must act promptly, so he went on: "You could make a happy man of me, Admiral!" "You're happy enough as it is, man." "No, not quite. There's one thing wanting." "And what's that?" "Your daughter----" "Hey? Are you off your head?" "Your daughter," repeated Doffen. "I'd be a good husband to her, and a proper son-in-law to you." "I'll give you son-in-law!" roared the Admiral, and, picking up the big Directory, he sent it full at Doffen's chest; the latter, taken by surprise, came tumbling down from his stool, and fell against the wood-box in the corner. "You miserable nincompoop!" snorted the Admiral, as he rushed out of the room. Doffen lay in the corner by the wood-box, groaning pitifully. The noise had been heard all over the house, and the Princess came rushing in to see what was the matter. "Are you ill, Eriksen?" she asked, taking his hand. "Oh, I think I must be dying," he said, touching his chest. "No, no," said she. "It's not so bad as all that." "And if so, I shall have died for you." "Let me help you up on the sofa, now, and I'll fetch you a glass of water." With her support he limped across to the sofa. "Better now?" she asked, handing him the glass of water. "Oh, I'm so fond of you," said he, and tried to take her hand. "Oh, do stop that nonsense!" said she, with a laugh. "Stop? How can I stop when I love you as deeply as ... as ..." he paused, unable to find a sufficiently powerful expression, then suddenly the inspiration came, and, raising himself on his elbow, he went on--"as deeply as is possible in this line of business!" "Oh no, really; you can talk about this another time, you know. Come along now, Eriksen, pull yourself together and be a man." "Then it's not a final refusal--not a harsh and cruel 'no' such as your father flung at me just now--with that heavy book? Say it's not that!" But she was gone. Doffen lay back on the sofa once more, closed his eyes, and thought of her. At last he fell asleep, and lay there, never noticing when the Admiral peeped in through the door, "to see if the carcass was still alive." The sound of Doffen's snoring, however, reassured him, and he went away again, contented and relieved. The Princess sat in her room, highly amused with the thought of her latest admirer. What a funny creature he was! She rather liked him really, for all that; he was always so willing and kind, and if one's ardent worshippers themselves agree to be reduced to the status of "just friends," why, it may be very handy at times to have them in reserve. No, she would not quarrel with Eriksen, because of this, not at all. But, to tell the truth, it was getting quite a nuisance with all these admirers. Everyone of them was always wanting to meet her and go for a walk with her, and talk of love! Oh, she was so utterly weary of them all. These simpletons who imagined she was going to settle down and stay in this little place all her life! Heavens alive, what an existence! No, thank you, not if she knew it! It was annoying, in this frame of mind, to recollect that she promised Endresen junior to meet him at twelve o'clock by the big pond in the park. Still, a promise was a promise; she would have to go. And lo, he came up with a huge bouquet of pale yellow roses, her favourite flower, as he knew, tied round with a piece of thin red ribbon. "When the roses are faded, you can take the ribbon and bind me with it," he said. "When the roses have faded? Oh, but that won't be for a long time yet--thank goodness." And she laughed. "Well, so much the better; you can tie me up at once." "But suppose I don't want to?" "Then I'll die, Baby. Go off and shoot myself, or drown myself." "Drown yourself? Oh, do it now. I'll bet anything you wouldn't dare." "I assure you I mean it," he said, placing one hand on his heart. "Well, now, let me see what sort of a man you are, Endresen. Walk round the edge of the pond here five times----" "And what then?" "Then--oh, then you shall have----" "Yes?" "--My sincere admiration, let us say. That'll do to go on with." And she smiled mischievously. He jumped up on to the narrow stone edging of the pond and began balancing his way carefully along, the Princess walking by his side, counting the rounds. One--two--three--four times round. "One more, and you've done it," she said encouragingly. "And then I've won your hand, haven't I?" he cried. "Once more round, and--we'll think about it. Now, last lap!" He stepped cautiously along, and was nearing the end of the fifth round, when all of a sudden she jumped up and gave him a push that sent him into the water up to his waist. "No, that's not fair, Baby. I won." She danced up and down, clapping her hands and laughing delightedly. "Adieu, Endresen! my sincere admiration. It was splendid! But I don't think I'll walk home with you now, or people might think you'd been drowning yourself for my sake." And she ran off. Coming through the town she encountered old Consul Endresen, who stopped, as usual, to talk to her. "You're looking younger than ever, Consul," said the Princess. "Am I, though? Oh, you know how to get at an old man's heart, little sunbeam that you are! Looking younger than ever, eh--and I'm sixty-seven to-day," which, by the way, was three years less than the truth. "To-day? Oh, then I must wish you many happy returns--and here, let me give you these flowers." He stopped in surprise. "But, my dearest child, you don't mean it, surely? These flowers, these charming roses, they were for somebody else now, I'm sure." "Not a bit of it--they're for you." "Why, then, since you are pleased to command, I bow--and many thanks." And, bowing deeply, he took her hand and kissed it. The Princess hurried homeward, laughing at the face of young Endresen when his father appeared with the flowers. While all this was going on, Karsten junior was sitting deep in thought as to whether he ought not to propose to the Princess himself. He had sounded his father on the subject, and the latter had made no positive objection to the match. True, it was not altogether comme il faut, but still, it might be passed over--though he certainly considered the old man intolerable. Karsten junior was not much of a speaker, and determined, therefore, to write instead. But he found this, too, a ticklish business. He had never "operated in that market" before, and was altogether unacquainted with the article known as love. The opening phrase of the contemplated letter was a stumbling-block to begin with. Should he write "Miss," or "Miss Baby," or "Dear Miss Baby"--or even straight out, "Dear Baby"--but no, he must do the thing correctly in due form. The house of Karsten was an old-established firm, and he must make this evident. He decided at last for "Miss" simply. "Referring to our conversation of 7th inst., I hereby beg to inform you..." etc. He wrote on his sister's ivory paper, put the letter neatly in an envelope, and sent it off. The Princess laughed when she got the letter. She read it aloud to herself, and exclaimed with conviction: "What a fool!" Altogether it had been a day of amusing experiences for the Princess, but there was more to come. Yet another letter arrived, that filled her with unbounded astonishment. It ran as follows: "MY DEAR LITTLE FRIEND,--Do not be startled at receiving these lines from an old man. George Sand was once asked when a woman ceased to love, and she answered, Never. But if I were asked now, when a man ceases to love, I should answer, for my own part, I no longer love, I only admire and worship. You will, I am sure, have realised, little friend, that it is you I worship, your talents, your beauty, your goodness of heart and brilliant spirit. What can I offer you? A faithful protector, a good home, in peace and harmony. This time she did not laugh, but took a match and burned the letter in the stove. "This must be the end," she murmured to herself. "I won't stay here any longer with all these ridiculous men." She thought and pondered for several days until the Admiral came in one day and said he was going away for a week or so on business. In a moment her plan was made. She said nothing to him of what was in her mind; he would never have understood, and it would have made no end of trouble all round. But she would take Missa into her confidence. Missa had been a mother to her from the moment she realised she was living in this world; she would tell her all. "Missa," she said, throwing her arms round her neck, "I can't stand this any longer." "There, there now; what is it, child?" "I can't bear to live in this dreadful place. I must get away somehow." "Oh dear, dear! it's just what I think. A dreadful place." "Yes, there you are. And we'll go away, Missa, you and I, out into the beautiful wide world." "But for Heaven's sake, what about your father?" "Father mustn't know about it. We'll just go off by ourselves--run away, Missa dear." "Run away! God bless me no, child! The Admiral...." The Princess begged and prayed, using all her powers of persuasion and caresses, until Missa was gradually stripped of all arguments to the contrary, and finally rose to her feet. "But, Baby dear, how shall we make our living?" But at that the Princess jumped up and began dancing wildly around. "Missa, I'll dance--dance for all the world; make them wild with delight, till they throw themselves at my feet. Missa, don't you understand, can't you imagine ... oh, Missa, if you only knew.... But you shall see, you shall see for yourself...." She sank down on the sofa, sobbing violently. Next day the Princess went down to the office. Doffen was now completely himself again after the Admiral's very effective "refusal." He beamed like the sun when the Princess came in, made her a deep bow and said: "At your service, Miss--at your service, he, he!" "Ah, so you're still alive, Eriksen?" "Alive! The sight of you would have wakened me from the dead!" "Eriksen, will you do me a favour?" "Will I? Anything, Miss, anything a man can do." "I want a thousand pounds." Eriksen slid down from his stool. "A thousand--pounds! Heaven preserve us! A thousand! I haven't more than seven-and-six on me. "But father has." "The Admiral! Yes, of course, he has; and more. But that's not mine. Da--" he checked himself, recollecting it was not the Admiral to whom he was speaking--"dear me, you wouldn't have me steal his money?" "Oh, all you need do is to let me have the key." "No, no, my dear young lady, no. It would never do. "But it's only drawing a little in advance--on my inheritance, Eriksen, you know. That's all it is." He stood reflecting quite a while. "But--what on earth do you want all that money for?" She took his hand, and he trembled with emotion. "Eriksen, you're my friend, aren't you?" "Heaven knows I am, Miss." "Well, I'm going out into the wide world--to dance." "But, heavens alive--that makes it worse than ever! The Admiral, he surely isn't going off dancing as well?" "No; Missa's coming with me. We leave to-morrow, for Paris, Eriksen--London--New York--oh, ever so far!" "But--but then, I shall never see you again." "Indeed you shall, Eriksen; I'll send you tickets, a whole box all to yourself, for my performance in Paris. Just fancy, a box at the theatre all to yourself. And you must pay me a thousand pounds for it now." "But the Admiral--the Admiral! I might just as well give myself up and go to jail." "Don't talk nonsense, Eriksen! Are you my friend or are you not?" The Princess got her thousand. And Eriksen duly entered in his cash book: "By cash advanced to Miss Baby on account, as per receipt number 325, £1000." And the Princess on her part solemnly signed for the money: "Received cash in advance on account of expected inheritance, £1000--one thousand pounds." Doffen spent the evening helping Missa and the Princess with their packing. She promised to write and let him know how she got on, and gave him a photo of herself at parting, with the inscription: "To my true friend Doffen, from Baby." Doffen kept it near his heart. Missa gave him her photo too, but that he quietly put away in a back pocket. Next morning he went down to the quay to see them off. The Princess stood at the stern of the ship, and waved to him. He was proud to think that he was the only one she waved to, he was the one to receive her farewell smile. And so the Princess set out into the wide world. * * * * * When the Admiral returned he found the following letter awaiting him: "DEAR FATHER,--Missa and I have decided to go for a little trip to Paris, possibly also London, New York, San Francisco, etc. We couldn't stand it any longer, living in that old town of yours. The Admiral grunted, got up and walked twice up and down the room; then, muttering to himself, "All right," he put the letter in the stove. When the Admiral came down to the office, Doffen was inclined to be somewhat shaky about the knees. He pulled himself together, however, and, bearing in mind the example of Napoleon, took the offensive at once. "Your daughter's gone away, Admiral!" "Oh, go to----" "Thanks. I don't think I will. I'm very comfortable where I am." "You're a fool." "There's bigger fools about." "Why didn't you give her two thousand?" "She'd have had five thousand." "You've no idea what it costs to go travelling about. A miserable stay-at-home like you." At this Doffen grew angry in earnest, and slammed down the lid of his desk, making the ink-stands fairly dance. "Well, of all the.... First of all I do my very utmost to save you from being ruined by your illegitimate offspring, then I manage to get her away in a decent, respectable manner--you ought to be thoroughly ashamed of yourself, if you ask me." The Admiral looked round as if in search of something. "What the devil have you done with that Directory?" he said at last. "Oho! Perhaps you'd like to be had up for another attempted manslaughter, what?" "Not a bit of it. But there's a reward for extermination of rats and other mischievous beasts." Here the discussion was interrupted by the entrance of Ferryman Arne, who just looked in to ask if the Admiral hadn't an old pair of breeches to give away, as the seat was all out of the ones he was wearing. The Admiral never refused. He went to a wardrobe, routed out an old pair and gave them to Arne. The latter examined them carefully, front and back, but instead of saying thank you, he rudely declared that if the Admiral wanted to give a poor man something to wear, he might at least give him something that wasn't falling to bits already. This led to a most satisfactory battle-royal between Arne and the Admiral, each trying to outdo the other in lurid pigeon-English--a tongue which both of them spoke fluently, Arne having been twelve years in the China Seas. And in the end the Admiral presented Arne with two brand-new pairs of trousers and a pound in cash. * * * * * The years passed by. Doffen stayed on in the office, and became indispensable as time went on. He and the Admiral made a pair. And whenever the conversation languished towards the milk-and-watery, Ferryman Arne would come and lend a hand. The Princess roamed far and wide about the world. She sent home newspapers, wherein they read that she was performing at this or that great city, with thousands of admirers at her tiny feet. The Admiral read it all without the slightest token of surprise, his only comment being: "All right, that's her business." But when one day he received a card bearing the inscription, "Countess Montfalca," surmounted by a coronet, he spat, and remarked to Doffen: "Well, after all, there's nothing surprising in that, seeing her mother was a queen." [The end] GO TO TOP OF SCREEN |