Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel - Alexander Lange Kielland (best way to read ebooks txt) 📗

To Move; And Inch By

Inch,  With Ever-Increasing Speed,  The Massive Hull Glides Out Through

The Flames; Her Shining Sides Disappear Foot By Foot Through The Smoke;

The Golden Band Flashes In The Glare,  And High As If In Triumph Does The

Bow Rear Itself Heavenwards,  While The Stern Dives Deep Into The Waves.

Then Is Heard A Hissing And A Crackling As If A Hundred Glowing Irons

Had Been Cast Into The Water,  As The Burning Stern Cleaves Its Way Into

The Billows,  Which Come Foaming Up Over The Sides,  And In Under The

Counter,  While The Tiny Flames Which Were Flickering Along The Seams Are

Quenched By The Rush Of Air.

 

The Wind,  Which Got More Power Now That The Ship Was Away,  Swept Down On

To The Still Burning Buildings,  And,  Spreading Out Over The Ground,  Hid

From View The Vessel,  Which Was Gliding Out Into The Harbour,  By A

Curtain Of Dark Smoke Fringed With Flame; And In The Midst Of The Place

Where She Had Stood,  Which Looked Vast Indeed Now She Was Gone,  Stood A

Little Band Of Bent And Tar-Stained Men,  Fanning Their Faces With Their

Caps. In The Midst Of The Band Was Seen The Form Of A Tall And Slender

Youth,  His Face Glowing Red In The Light Of The Fire.

 

"Gabriel!" Shouted Uncle Richard. "Gabriel!" Was Repeated By A Hundred

Voices. The _Attache_ Elbowed His Way Towards Him,  Followed By Some Of

The Crowd,  Who,  However,  Stopped And Formed A Respectful Ring Round The

Hero Of The Day. Uncle Richard Gave Gabriel A Hearty Embrace,  And Then

Turning Round To The Crowd He Cried,  "Three Cheers For Gabriel Garman!

Hurrah!" He Was About To Wave His Hat,  When He Discovered That He Was

Bareheaded.

 

"Hurrah!" Shouted The Spectators With A Mighty Cheer; They Were Just In

The Humour For Cheering.

Chapter 18 Pg 123

 

"Three Cheers For The Carpenters!" Shouted Gabriel; But His Boy'S Voice

Broke Into A Discordant Scream In The Effort. But It Did Not Matter; A

Wild Hurrah Was Given For The Shipwrights,  Another For The Ship,  And

Another For The Firm. There Was Cheering And Rejoicing Without End.

 

"Come With Me," Said Gabriel To The Workmen. "Father Was Going To Give

You A Breakfast,  But Now It Will Have To Be A Supper."

 

The Shipwrights Laughed Heartily At This Joke,  But The Laughter Was Even

Louder When Uncle Richard Added,  "I Think You Have Earned Your Breakfast

As Well." They Thought The Remark So Wonderfully Witty,  That They

Laughed As If They Would Never Stop,  And The Joke About "Uncle Richard'S

Breakfast" Was A Proverb Both With Them And Their Successors Ever After.

 

In The Mean Time,  The Storehouse,  And Everything The Yard Contained

Which Was Burnable,  Was On Fire. The Flames Began Stealing Down The

Ways,  But No One Took Any Notice Of Them. The Ship Was Saved. Nothing

Else Was Of Much Consequence,  And Fortunately The Wind Was Blowing Off

The Land. Morten Was Busy Setting A Watch For The Night,  And The Engines

Were Kept Ready In case The Wind Might Change.

 

As Uncle Richard And Gabriel Were Walking Back Arm-In-Arm To The House,

The Latter Had To Relate How It Had All Happened. Gabriel Told His Uncle

How He Had Found The Shipwrights All Beginning To Assemble Under The

Ship,  And So He Had Thought He Had Better Take Command.

 

"Take Command!" Cried Uncle Richard; "Why,  What A Boy You Are,  Gabriel!"

And Then Gabriel Went On To Explain How They Got The Ways In Their

Places,  Loosened The Cradle,  And Wedged Up The Fore Part Of The Vessel;

Then The Stays Were Hastily Removed; It Was Begmand Who Had Taken Away

The Last From The Stern Amidst The Fire And Smoke,  And So Away Went The

Ship Just In The Nick Of Time. Tom Robson Ought Really To Have All The

Praise,  Since Everything Was Ready To Hand,  And In The Most Perfect

Order.

 

Rachel Came To Meet Them On The Steps; She Went Straight Up To Uncle

Richard And Whispered In His Ear,  "Be Calm,  Uncle; Don'T Let Us Spoil

Gabriel'S Evening. Father Has Had A Stroke. He Is In bed,  And The Doctor

Is Here."

 

The _Attache_ Entered Without Saying A Word,  And Rachel Threw Her Arms

Round Her Brother'S Neck And Said,  "Who Would Have Thought Of Your Being

Such A Clever Boy,  Gabriel?"

 

"Boy!" Said Gabriel.

 

"Or Man,  I Shall Have To Say In Future," Answered Rachel,  With A Smile.

"But What Have You Done With Your Workmen?"

 

They Were Not Far Behind; And Rachel Distributed Among Them Beer,  Wine,

Sausages,  Bacon,  White Bread,  And Other Delicacies,  Until Gabriel

Remarked,  "You Are Much More Liberal Than Miss Cordsen; But Had You Not

Got Some Chickens For The Ball?"

 

Yes,  Indeed! She Had Forgotten The Ball. Rachel'S Feelings Were So

Pained By Seeing Gabriel In Such High Spirits,  That She Could Not

Chapter 18 Pg 124

Contain Them Any Longer,  So She Said Quietly,  "Gabriel,  There Will Be No

Ball To-Morrow. Father Is Ill."

 

Gabriel Had Not To Ask Why. He Saw It Was Something Serious. The Workmen

Were Standing By The Steps,  Laden With The Good Things,  And Uncertain

Where They Should Take Them.

 

"Come,  Let Us Go Back To The Ship-Yard," Said Gabriel; "We Shall Be All

To Ourselves There,  And Besides,  It Will Be Nice And Warm."

 

Rachel Could Hear From His Voice That There Were Tears In His Eyes,  And

The Thought Occurred To Her,  How He Had Grown From A Boy To A Man In The

Last Few Hours.

 

The Storehouse Had Now Fallen In,  And The Ruins Were Still Burning On

The Ground. The Yard,  Thanks To Mr. Robson,  Had Been So Well Cleared,

That The Watchmen Had But Little Difficulty In Keeping The Fire

Isolated. After Midnight The Wind Lulled,  And The Thick Clouds Of Smoke

Soared Up Into The Air,  And Were Driven Slowly Over The Fjord.

 

As The Ship Took The Water,  She Drove Across The Wind A Little Way From

The Shore,  And Fouled An Old Brig Belonging To The Firm; And For The

Rest Of The Night Was Heard The Shouting And Singing Of The Numerous

Volunteers,  Who Were Hard At Work Clearing The Vessels,  And Mooring The

Newly Launched One.

 

The Shipwrights Sat Comfortably In The Yard,  Just Near Enough To The

Fire To Feel Its Warmth. They Had Got Far More Than They Could Fairly

Take On Board,  And,  Every Now And Then,  They Treated One Of The Watchmen

To Something As He Passed.

 

The Only Flaw In Their Pleasure Was That Gabriel Could Not Be With Them.

He Had Been Obliged To Tell Them That The Consul Was Ill,  And That He

Must,  Therefore,  Remain In The House. No One Thought Of Accusing Gabriel

Of Pride,  And They All Drank His Health,  And As Many Other Healths As

They Could Find An Excuse For,  In bumpers Of The Wine To Which They Were

So Little Accustomed. Of The Food Which Had Been Given To Them,  They Ate

As Much As They Could,  And When They Could Eat No More,  They Divided The

Remainder By Lot,  Just As They Shared The Shavings For Their Fires,

Laughing The Whole Time Heartily At The Sport. Then Away They All

Wandered Homewards To The West End,  Carrying Sausages,  Chickens,  Bottles

Of Wine,  And Other Delicacies. The Sun Was Just Rising Over The Corner

Of The Mountain To The East Of The Town,  And Lit Up The Window-Panes Of

The Cottages,  Till It Looked As If The Whole West End Was Illuminated.

 

That Morning There Was Not A Wife Who Had The Heart To Find Fault With

Her Husband Because He Had Had A Little Drop Too Much. Eating And

Drinking Went On Merrily,  Combined With Gossiping And Running From House

To House. The Children Sat Up In bed,  Blinking At The Sunlight,  And

Stuffing Themselves With Sausages,  Still Half In doubt Whether It Was

Real Tangible Sausage They Were Eating,  Or Whether It Was Not One Of

Those Lovely Dreams Which Sometimes Visit The Hungry.

Chapter 18 Pg 125

The Sun Was Shining Over The Bay Of Sandsgaard,  Where The New Ship Now

Lay Securely Moored With Hawsers Both Ahead And Astern. The Sounds Of

Activity From West End Could Be Heard Far Out Into The Fjord.

 

In Begmand'S Cottage Marianne Lay Raving In delirium,  And The Neighbour

Who Attended Her Said She Had The Fever. Anders,  Who Had Burnt Himself

On The Side Of The Face At The Fire,  Was Sitting With Her,  A

Handkerchief Tied Round His Head.

 

The Townspeople Managed To Get Home By Degrees. Some Pretended That They

Did Not See The Sun,  And Went To Bed. Others Stayed Up,  And Went Yawning

About All Day. More Than Half The Town Had Been At Sandsgaard That

Night,  Or Else On The Heights Above The House,  Looking On The Fire.

 

One Of The Few People Who Had Not Been At The Fire Was Our Friend

Woodlouse. When He And The Swede Parted,  After The Fight Between Martin

And Robson,  He Went Straight Off To His Home In The Town. As He Passed

The First House,  He Met Some People Who Were Running,  And Deaf As He

Was,  He Heard The Two Cannon-Shots Which Gave Warning Of A Fire. When He

Got To The Church,  He Saw That The Door Was Open,  And That There Was A

Light In The Place From Whence The Bells Were Pulled. Woodlouse Looked

In And Saw A Pair Of Legs,  Now Bending,  Now Straightening Again,  Now

Going Up,  And Now Down. From What He Saw,  He Drew The Conclusion That

Some One Was Tolling The Big Bell. He Observed Carefully What Time It

Was By The Church Clock,  And As He Went Along,  He Was Already Making Up

His Mind How He Should Answer The Inquiries Of The Police,  For He Fully

Expected The Cause Of The Fire Would Be The Subject For Investigation.