Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel - Alexander Lange Kielland (best way to read ebooks txt) 📗
- Author: Alexander Lange Kielland
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That Was The One Of Richard Garman. No Mortal Eye Had Ever Seen It. Some
Thought It Might Possibly Be In The Consul'S Own Red Book; Others
Thought That No Such Thing Existed. True It Was Undoubtedly, That The
Chief Carried On Personally All The Correspondence With His Brother;
And, Wonderful To Relate, These Letters Were Never Copied. This Was Food
For Much Speculation Among The Clerks, And At Last They Came To The
Conclusion That The Young Consul Did Not Wish Any One To Know In What
Relation Richard Garman Stood To The Firm.
One Thing Was Plain, And Confirmed By Long Experience, And That Was,
That The Consul Attached Great Importance To The Letters That Came From
His Brother. He Read Them Before The Rest Of The Post, And If Any One
Happened To Come In When He Was Thus Engaged, He Always Covered The
Correspondence With A Sheet Of Paper. One Of The Younger Clerks Once
Asserted That He Had Seen A Bill Of Exchange In One Of The Aforesaid
Letters, But The Statement Found But Little Credence In The Office; For
It Was A Recognized Fact That Not One Single Paper Existed Which Bore
Richard Garman'S Signature. Another Story, Which Was Even Less Worthy Of
Credit, Was One Told By The Office Messenger, Who Stated That One Day He
Had Brought A Letter From Bratvold, And That As He Came In With The
Portfolio He Had Found The Young Consul Standing By The Key-Drawer, With
A Letter In One Hand And Two Bills Of Exchange In The Other, Quite Red
In The Face, And Apparently Bent Double, As If He Was On The Point Of
Choking. The Messenger Thought At First That It Was A Fit, But It Was
Plain To The Meanest Understanding That There Was Not A Word Of Truth In
The Story, For The Messenger Had The Audacity To Aver That He Had Heard
The Young Consul Give Vent To A Short But Unmistakable Laugh. There Was
Plainly A Misapprehension Somewhere; Every One Knew That The Young
Consul Was Unable To Laugh.
Chapter 4 Pg 21
When Gabriel Had Shut The Door After Announcing His Uncle'S Arrival, The
Consul Got Up And Went Off To The Key-Drawer, From Whence He Took A
Gigantic Key, To Which Was Attached A Wooden Label Black With Age. He
Then Brushed His Coat, And, After Adjusting His Chin In His Neckcloth
And Arranging His Scanty Locks, Left The Office.
The House Was Large And Old Fashioned, With Long Passages And Broad
Staircases. In The Western Wing Were The Offices, Having A Separate
Chapter 4 Pg 22Entrance On The Side Towards The Sea. On The Southern Side, And
Overlooking The Garden, Were The Bedrooms Of The Family, And The
Apartments Which Were Generally Used As Sitting-Rooms.
The Second Floor Consisted Entirely Of Reception-Rooms, Which Were So
Arranged As To Have The Large Ballroom In The Middle, With _Salons_ At
The Side. In One Of These Rooms The Family Generally Dined On Sunday, Or
When They Had Guests, And It Was The Small _Salon_ At The North-West
Corner, Looking Over The Building-Yard And The Sea, In Which The Dinner
Was Usually Served.
On The Third Floor, Or, More Correctly, In The Garrets, Was An Endless
Number Of Spare Rooms, Whose Windows Looked Out Of The Quaint Dormers
Which Embellished The Roof.
The Furniture Was Mostly Of Mahogany, Now Dark With Age, While Chairs
And Sofas Were Covered With Horsehair. Against The Walls Stood Tall Dark
Presses, And Mirrors With The Glass In Two Pieces, And Having Their
Gilded Frames Adorned With Urns And Garlands. The Rooms Were Lit By
Old-Fashioned Chandeliers And Girandoles.
The Consul Met One Of The Servants In The Passage. "Has Mr. Garman
Arrived?"
"Yes, Sir; And He Has Gone Upstairs, To My Mistress," Answered The Girl.
When The Weather Was Warm, Mrs. Garman Usually Preferred One Of The Airy
Rooms Upstairs. She Was A Very Fat Lady, Who Lived In a Continual State
Of Strife With Dyspepsia. From Whatever Side You Looked At Her, She
Presented A Succession Of Smoothly Rounded Curves Covered With Shining
Black Silk.
It Was Wonderful That Mrs. Garman Got So Stout; It Must Have Been, As
She Herself Said, "A Cross" She Had To Bear. She Seemed To Eat Very
Little At Her Meals, And Could Not Control Her Astonishment At The
Appetites Of The Rest Of The Company. Only At Times, When She Was Alone
In Her Room, She Seemed To Have A Fancy For Some Little Delicacy, And
Miss Cordsen Used To Bring Her A Little Bit Of Just What Happened To Be
Handy.
When The Consul Entered Her Room, His Wife Was Sitting On The Sofa,
Engaged In conversation With Her Brother-In-Law.
"How Are You? How Are You, Christian Frederick?" Said Richard, Gaily.
"Here I Am Again!"
"You Are Welcome, Richard. I Am Charmed To See You," Answered The
Consul, Keeping His Hands Behind His Back.
Richard Seemed Quite Confused, As He Generally Was When He Met His
Brother, Who Sometimes Could Be As Gay And Cheerful As When They Were
Boys, And At Others Would Put On His Business Manner, And Be Cold,
Repellant, And So Abominably Precise.
"Is Any One Coming To Dinner To-Day, Caroline?" Asked Consul Garman.
Chapter 4 Pg 23"Pastor Martens Has Announced His Kind Intention Of Introducing The New
School Inspector To Us," Answered The Lady.
"Yes, I Dare Say, Another Of Your Parson Friends," Said The Consul,
Drily; "Then, I'Ll Just Send The Coachman With The Carriage For Morten
And Fanny, And Ask Them To Bring Some Young People With Them: They Might
Find Jacob Worse, Perhaps."
"What For?" Answered The Lady, In a Tone Which Showed An Inclination To
Dispute The Proposition.
"Because Neither Richard Nor I Care To Have Our Dinner With Nothing But
A Lot Of Parsons," Answered The Consul, In a Tone Which Brought His Wife
To Her Senses. "And Will You Be So Kind As To Arrange With Miss Cordsen
About The Dinner?"
"Oh! The Dinner, The Dinner!" Sighed Mrs. Garman, As She Left The Room.
"I Cannot Understand How People Can Think So Much About Such Trifles."
Uncle Richard Followed His Sister-In-Law To The Door, And When He Turned
Round After Making His Most Polite Bow, He Saw His Brother Standing In
The Middle Of The Room, With His Legs Far Apart, And One Hand Behind His
Back. With The Other He Held Up The Monster Key Like An Eyeglass Before
His Eye, And Through It He Regarded His Brother With A Knowing Look.
"Do You Know That?" Asked The Consul.
"_Mais Oui_!" Answered Richard, In a Tone Which Showed His Delight At
Finding His Brother In a Mood Which Betokened A Visit To The
Wine-Cellar.
The Two Old Gentlemen Went Off Arm-In-Arm, Until They Reached The Top Of
The Kitchen Stairs. At The Kitchen Door They Stopped, And The Consul
Called For The Lights. A Commotion Was Heard Inside, And In a Few
Seconds Miss Cordsen Appeared With Two Ancient Candlesticks.
Each Took His Own Light--They Never Made Any Mistake As To Which Was
Which--And Descended The Stairs Which Led To The Dark Cellar. They First
Arrived At A Large Outer Cellar, Where It Was Comparatively Light, In
Which Were Stored The Wines Which Were In Ordinary Use, Such As St.
Julien, Rhine Wine, Graves, And Brandy. This Was All Under The Charge Of
Miss Cordsen, Who, In accordance With The _Regime_ Which Had Come Down
From The Old Consul'S Time, Produced The Different Wines According To
The Number And Importance Of The Guests. In The Darkest Corner Of The
Cellar There Was An Old Keyhole, Only Known To The Consul, But He Could
Find It In The Dark. All The Same, Both Of Them Held Out Their Lights To
Look For It, And The Young Consul Never Omitted To Remark Upon The
Clever Way In Which His Father Had Concealed The Secret Door.
The Key Turned Twice In The Lock With A Rusty Sound, Which The Brothers
Could Distinguish From Any Other Sound In The World, And An Atmosphere
Redolent Of Wine And Mould Met Them As They Entered. The Consul Shut The
Door, And Said, "There Now, The World Will Have To Get On Without Us For
A Little While." The Inner Wine-Cellar Looked As If It Were Considerably
Older Than The House Itself, And The Groined Roof Had A Resemblance To
Chapter 4 Pg 24The Cloister Of An Old Monastery. It Was So Low That Richard Had To Bend
His Head A Little, And Even The Consul Felt Inclined To Stoop When He
Was Down There.
In The Old Bins Lay Bottles Of Different Shapes Covered With Dust And
Cobwebs, And In The Recess Of What Had Been A Grated Window, But Was Now
Walled Up On The Outside, There Stood Two Old Long-Stemmed Dutch
Glasses, While In One Corner There Lay A Large Wine-Cask. In Front Of
The Cask Was Placed An Empty Tub, Between An Armchair Without A Back,
And From The Seat Of Which The Horsehair Was Protruding, And An Ancient
Rocking-Horse That Had Lost Its Rockers.
The Brothers Put Down Their Lights On The Bottom Of The Tub, And Took
Off Their Coats, Which They Hung Each On Their Own Peg.
"Well, What'S It To Be To-Day?" Said Christian Frederick, Rubbing His
Hands.
"Port Wouldn'T Be Bad," Suggested Richard, Examining The Bin.
"Port Wine Would Be First-Rate," Answered The Consul, Holding Out His
Light. "But Look, There'S A Row Of Bottles Lying In Here That We Have
Never Tried. I Should Like To Know What They Are."
"I Dare Say It Is Some Of My Grandmother'S Raspberry Vinegar," Suggested
Richard.
"Nonsense! Do You Suppose Father Would Have Hidden Away Raspberry
Vinegar In This Cellar?"
"Perhaps He Was As
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