Mysteries (24 page)

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“It goes to show how far one can be driven. I have even slandered you, out of love for you. I’ve called you a flirt and tried to drag you down, just to console myself and make up for my loss, because I knew you were unattainable. This is the fifth time we’ve met; I did, after all, wait until the fifth time before giving myself away, though I could’ve done so the first time. Besides, it’s my birthday today, I’m twenty-nine years old, and I’ve been singing and feeling happy ever since I opened my eyes this morning. I thought—well, it’s ridiculous, of course, to dream up such tomfooleries, but I thought to myself, If you meet her today and make a clean breast of it, it may not hurt that, on top of everything, it is your birthday. If you let her know that, perhaps she will be more willing to forgive you, on account of the day it is. You’re smiling? Sure, it’s ridiculous, I know; but there’s no help for it. I offer you my tribute just like everyone else.”

“What a pity, then, that this should have happened to you today,” she said. “You’ve been unlucky with your birthday this year. That’s all I can say about that.”

“Yes, of course.... God, what power you have! I can well understand how a man might be driven to any extremity for your sake. Even now, as you uttered those last words, which weren’t so pleasant after all, even now your voice was like a song. I felt as though my heart were bursting into flower. How strange! Do you know, I’ve wandered about in front of your home at night, trying to catch a glimpse of you at a window; I’ve been on my knees here in the woods praying to God for you, although I don’t believe in God very much. Do you see that aspen over there? I’m going to stop right here, because I’ve knelt under that aspen night after night, beside myself with despair, foolish and lost, simply because I couldn’t get you out of my mind. From here I’ve said good night to you every evening, I’ve lain here asking the wind and the stars to bring you my greeting, and I believe you must’ve felt it in your sleep.”
⁵

“Why have you been telling me all this? Don’t you know that I—”

“Oh sure, sure!” he cut in, exceedingly agitated. “I know what you were going to say: that you have belonged to someone else for a long time and that it’s dishonorable of me to try to force myself on you now, afterward, when it’s too late—how could I not know that? Why, then, have I told you all this? Well, to influence you, make an impression on you, get you to think it over. As God is my witness, I’m speaking the truth, I can do nothing else. I know you are engaged to be married, that you are in love with your young man, and that I cannot get anywhere with you. Still, I decided to try to influence you a little, I refused to give up hope. If you can imagine what it means to give up all hope, then perhaps you’ll understand me better. When I said just now that I didn’t expect to get anywhere, I was lying, of course. I only said it to set your mind at rest for the moment and to gain time, so you wouldn’t become all too alarmed at once. Oh dear, did I say something wrong? I didn’t mean to say that you ever gave me any hope, nor have I ever imagined I could cut anyone out. That never even occurred to me, alas. But in certain moments, when everything seemed hopeless, I have thought to myself : All right, she’s engaged and she’ll soon be leaving, goodbye; but she’s not utterly lost to me yet, she has not already left, she’s not married, or dead, so who knows? And if I gave it my all, perhaps there would still be time! You’ve become my constant thought, my obsession, I see you in everything and call every blue stream Dagny. I don’t believe a single day has gone by during these past few weeks without my thinking about you. No matter at what hour I leave the hotel, as soon as I open the door and find myself on the steps, the hope shoots through my heart: maybe you’ll meet her this time! And I look for you everywhere. It’s quite beyond me, I just can’t help it. If I have now surrendered, I certainly didn’t surrender without a fight, believe me. It’s not a happy thought to know in your heart that your efforts have been sadly wasted and yet to be unable to refrain from making an effort; that’s why one resists to the very end. But what if it doesn’t do any good? When you spend a sleepless night sitting by the window in your room, you dream up all sorts of things! You have a book in your hand, but you don’t read; you clench your teeth again and again and read three lines, then you can’t anymore and close the book, shaking your head. Your heart is beating wildly, you softly whisper some sweet, secret words to yourself, calling a name and kissing it in your thoughts. The clock strikes two, four, six; then you decide to make an end of it and to seize the first chance you have to take the plunge and confess all....
⁶
If I might ask anything of you now, it would be not to talk. I love you, but don’t talk, don’t talk. Wait three minutes.”

She had listened to him in utter dismay, without uttering a single word in reply. They still weren’t moving.

“You must be crazy!” she said, shaking her head. And distressed and pale, with an icy glint in her blue eyes, she added, “You know I’m engaged, you remember and assume that, and yet—”

“Of course, I know! Could I forget that face and that uniform ? After all, he’s a handsome man, and it isn’t that I find any fault with him; and yet I could wish him dead and gone. What’s the use of saying to myself, as I’ve done a hundred times: there you won’t get anywhere!
⁷
Instead I try to avoid thinking about this impossibility, telling myself, Oh yes, I’ll get somewhere all right, lots of things can happen, there’s still hope.... And there is hope, isn’t there?”

“No, no! Don’t bring me to utter despair!” she cried. “What do you want me to do? What are you thinking of? Do you mean that I should—. Good God, don’t let’s talk about it anymore, please. And now go! You’ve ruined everything with a few stupid words, you’ve even spoiled our talks, and now we won’t be able to meet anymore. Why did you do it? Oh, if I’d only had an inkling of it! Well, you must forget about it, I beg you, for your own sake as well as mine. You know very well I can never be anything to you; I don’t see how you could ever get that idea. So don’t let us drag this out. You must go back to your room
⁸
and try to resign yourself. Oh dear, I’m truly sorry for you, but there’s nothing else I can do.”

“But does it have to be goodbye today? Am I seeing you for the last time? No, no, I say! I promise to keep cool, to talk about anything else you like, and never again about this; so shall we meet? When, that is, I’ve cooled off? Some day, perhaps, when you’re fed up with all the others—as long as today isn’t the very last time. You’re shaking your head again—your lovely head, you’re shaking it. How absurd everything is! ... What if you turned me down but said yes anyway, telling a lie to make me happy? It has turned into a sad day, you know, very sad, though this morning I was singing. Just one more time!”

“You shouldn’t ask that of me, since I can’t promise it. Besides, what would be the use? Just go now, please! Maybe we’ll meet again, I don’t know, but it’s quite possible. No, go now, will you!” she exclaimed impatiently. “You’ll be doing me a real kindness,” she added.
⁹

Pause. He stood staring at her, his breast heaving. Then he pulled himself together and bowed to her. Dropping his cap on the ground, he suddenly grabbed her hand, which she hadn’t offered him, and squeezed it hard between both of his. When she gave a little cry, he let her go at once, distressed, showing real despair at having caused her pain. And when she left, he stood there following her with his eyes. A few more steps and she would be gone!
¹⁰
His cheeks flushing, he bites his lips till the blood comes and wants to go, to turn his back on her in heartfelt anger. When all was said and done, he was still a man; it was all right, everything was all right, goodbye....

Suddenly she turned around and said, “And you mustn’t go prowling around the parsonage at night. You really mustn’t, I beg you! So it was you who made my doggie bark so furiously the past several nights. One night Papa was on the point of getting out of bed. You can’t do that, do you hear! Anyway, I hope you won’t get us both into trouble.”

These words, no more. Still, at the sound of her voice his resentment was gone; he shook his head.

“And today is my birthday!” he said. With that he shielded his face with his arm and left.

Watching him go, she hesitated a moment and then ran back to him. She seized his arm.

“I’m sorry, but that’s the way it is, I cannot be anything for you.
¹¹
But maybe we’ll meet again sometime, don’t you think? Well, I have to go.”

She turned on her heel and quickly marched off.

A VEILED LADY came walking up from the docks, where she had just stepped ashore from the steamer. She headed straight for the Central Hotel.

Nagel happened to stand by the window of his room looking out; he had paced the floor restlessly, up and down, all afternoon, only stopping now and then to drink a glass of water. His cheeks were unusually red, feverishly red, and his eyes were burning. For hours on end he had been thinking of one and the same thing: his latest meeting with Dagny Kielland.

For a moment he had tried to persuade himself that he could simply leave the place and forget the whole thing. He opened his trunk and took out some papers, a couple of brass instruments, a flute, a few sheets of music, some clothes, including another yellow suit just like the one he was wearing, and various other things which he spread over the floor. Yes, he would leave, the town wasn’t fit to live in any longer; there were no flags flying anymore and the streets were dead, so why shouldn’t he leave? Why the hell had he wanted to poke his nose into this place anyway ? It was just a hole, a little one-horse town, with small, longeared people.

But he knew very well that he wouldn’t leave, that he only wanted to boost his morale, thus deluding himself. Despondent, he again packed all his things and put his bags back in their place. Then, utterly distraught, he paced up and down between the door and the window with hurried steps, while the clock downstairs struck one hour after the other. Finally it struck six....

When he caught sight of the veiled lady just climbing the hotel steps as he stopped by the window, his expression completely changed and he clutched his head once or twice. Well, why not! She had just as much right to visit the place as he. Anyway, it was no concern of his, he had other things to worry about, and besides she and he were quits.

He at once forced himself to be calm, sat down on a chair and picked up a newspaper from the floor, looking at it here and there as if reading it. No more than a minute or two later, Sara opened the door and handed him a card on which was written, in pencil, “Kamma.” Just Kamma. He got up and went downstairs.

The lady was standing in the lobby; she was wearing her veil. Nagel bowed to her without a word.

“Hello, Simonsen!” she said in a loud, emotional voice. Simonsen, she said.

Startled, he quickly composed himself and called to Sara, “Where could we go for a moment?”

They were shown into a room next to the restaurant, where the lady collapsed in a chair as soon as the door was closed behind them. She was in a state of great agitation.

Their conversation was intermittent and obscure, with half-words of which they alone understood the meaning, and with many allusions to the past. They had met before and knew one another. Their encounter lasted less than an hour. The lady spoke more Danish than Norwegian.

“Pardon me for still calling you Simonsen,” she said. “That amusing old petname! How old and amusing! Every time I say it to myself, I can see you before me, large as life.”

“When did you get here?” Nagel asked.

“Now, just now, a little while ago; I came by the steamer.... Well, I’m leaving again right away.”

“Right away?”

“Look,” she says, “you’re glad I’m leaving again right away, don’t you think I can see that? ... But tell me, what should I do for my chest? Feel here, no, higher up! Well, what do you think? I believe it’s rather worse now; I mean, it has taken a turn for the worse since we saw one another, hasn’t it? Oh well, it doesn’t matter.... Do I look a mess? Tell me if I do. How does my hair look? Maybe I’m dirty too, downright filthy, I’ve been traveling for twenty-four hours.... You haven’t changed, you’re just as cold, just as cold.... Do you have a comb on you, by any chance?”

“No—. How could you dream of coming here? What is it that—”

“The same to you, the same to you, namely, How could you dream of sneaking off to a place like this? But I found you anyway! ... So you are an agronomist here, eh? Ha-ha-ha, I met some people on the dock who said you were an agronomist and that you had helped out a certain Mrs. Stenersen with her garden. You had taken care of some currant bushes, working in your shirtsleeves two days in a row. What an idea! ... My hands are ice-cold; well, they always are when I’m upset, and right now I’m upset. You don’t have much compassion for me, do you, though I call you Simonsen as in the old days and am cheerful and happy? This morning, while I was still lying in my berth, I thought to myself, How will he receive me, I wonder; won’t he at least call me by my first name and chuck me under the chin? I was almost certain that you would, but I was mistaken. I don’t ask you to do so now, mind you. Please, take note of that. It’s too late, I won’t have it.... Say, why are you constantly blinking your eyes? Is it because you’re thinking of something else while I’m talking to you?”

“I don’t feel quite up to scratch today, Kamma,” he merely replied. “Couldn’t you tell me at once why you’ve come to see me? You would be doing me a great favor.”

“Why I’ve come to see you?” she cried. “My God, how terribly you can hurt a person’s feelings! Are you afraid I may ask you for money, that I’ve come simply to clean you out? Just come out with it, if you really harbor such black thoughts in your heart.... But why have I come to see you, then? Take a guess! Don’t you know what day, what date, it is today? Can you possibly have forgotten your own birthday?”