Dry Fish and Wet Part 33

"He never can keep a still tongue in his head," agreed Justice Heidt.

It was now past one o'clock: the King was to arrive at four, and there was no painting a new design in three hours. Hang up a big Norwegian flag? That, of course, could be done; but it would seem a very poor sort of decoration without the arms of the town. Then Governor Hansen had a bright idea: "Let's get up an impromptu lunch at once, and ask Rordam along, as if nothing was the matter."

"Do you think he'll come?" asked Justice Heidt.

"Sure enough--if we just let him know it's a special lunch for a small select party. Send the message in your own name, Justice, and I'll wager a bottle of Montebello he'll come."

Half an hour after, Rordam arrived, and was received by Justice Heidt, who clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him heartily for his splendid decoration of the hall.

"And I must say we are fortunate in having in so small a town an artist of taste like yourself. I am sure His Majesty will wish to thank you personally. By the way, that coat of arms, it will be ready in time, I hope? Dr. Knap was just saying it was a magnificent piece of work."

"Why--er--that is--I wasn't altogether pleased with it myself, so I took it down."

"Oh, nonsense, my dear fellow! I am sure it's excellent. Hang it up again and don't worry about that."

The shield was set in place again accordingly, and the committee unanimously expressed their admiration. The figure of the bear in particular was highly praised. "As lifelike as anything you'd see in a menagerie," said Warden Prois cautiously. "And the young lady too, I'm sure," said Dr. Knap, with a sly nudge to Heidt. Rordam was pacified, completely won over, and so gratified at the amiable condescension of the notables at lunch that he felt he could afford to despise a mere lawyer like that fellow Nickelsen.

At half-past three precisely the committee members of Council and other leading personages went down to the quay where the Royal party was to land. The appearance of Warden Prois, with his gold-laced cap, ditto tunic, belt and dirk (all newly ordered for the occasion) was the signal for cheering from the a.s.sembled urchins. The demonstration, however, so annoyed the old man that he angrily ordered them to "keep quiet, you little devils," at which undignified utterance on the part of a person in authority, Justice Heidt frowned severely.

The four town constables were likewise dressed for the occasion with new trousers and white cotton gloves, and made a brave show.

"Boom--boom--boom!" came the salute from the fire-station, and Ottosen's black mare reared so violently that Aslaksen's silver-braided silk hat fell off. Worse was to come, however. As the band from Horten struck up, "Swift" became troublesome. At last the Warden himself had to spring to the heads of the frantic pair and hold them, or the whole equipage would have gone over the side into the water. His Majesty, no doubt from previous experience of provincial turn-outs, preferred to walk, and the party moved off, accompanied by a burst of cheering, towards the Town Hall; Aslaksen, with his carriage and ill a.s.sorted pair, following shamefacedly in the rear.

At the upper end of the Royal table sat the Justice and other notables; the King's suite were distributed between the members of the committee. For the convenience of the latter, Heidt had had cards set round at each place, with the names of the guest seated next.

Warden Prois, who had been introduced to his particular charge, but had not managed to catch the name, slipped away stealthily outside, put on his spectacles and endeavoured to read his card. "His Excellency ... M.--M.--Megesen--no, Pegestik--devil take me if I can make head or tail of it." At last he decided for "Negesuk" as the Excellency's name--Swedish names were always queer.

It was a very festive affair, and full justice was done to the fourteen courses and Nachmann's good wine. The official speeches were all delivered with laudable precision, excepting Governor Hansen's.

That worthy came to a standstill, and had to fumble in his waistcoat pocket for the written copy, consisting of two lines scrawled on a bit of paper, the crumpled appearance of which suggested that it had been liberally consulted already.

The talk flowed easily and without embarra.s.sing restraint. Old Klementsen quietly pocketed a copy of the menu, to take home to his wife; it was only fair that she should have her share of the feast.

"Mr. Chamberlain Negesuk, may I have the honour?" Prois raised his gla.s.s courteously towards his neighbour, who drank with him and bowed in return, albeit with some stiffness of manner. This, however, the Warden attributed to their proximity to the Royal person.

"Ah--my name is Von Vegesak," said the courtier, with a bow.

"The deuce it is," said Prois; "it doesn't look like it on the card."

And he put on his gla.s.ses and turned the card about.

"Oh, but that's not my birth certificate, you know," answered Von Vegesak, with a smile.

"Well, anyhow, here's to you, Mr.--Mr.--Vegesak."

At one end of the Royal table sat Governor Hansen and Captain Palander, deep in conversation about--horses! Horses were the one theme in which Hansen was really interested, devoting especial attention to trotters, and once he got on to his favourite subject there was no stopping him.

"Curious thing," he observed, "I had a trotting horse a few years ago called Palander--ha, ha, ha! Yes, that was really its name. But I could never get any pace out of it on ordinary going; ice underfoot was the only thing to make it go."

"Very good claret this," murmured the King to Justice Heidt.

"Yes, Your Majesty; we have it from our worthy dealer here, Mr.

Nachmann, a citizen of the town."

"Quite right, Your Majesty; a genuine brand and _premier one_."

Nachmann rose to his feet and turned his moonlike countenance towards the King.

"Thanks for good wine, then, Nachmann," said His Majesty, raising his gla.s.s.

"Proudest moment in my life, Your Majesty. I'll take the liberty of laying down a few bottles in memory of the occasion--until Your Majesty honours us again. Most humble servant, Your Majesty."

And Nachmann bowed deeply, but with evident pride. How they would envy him now, P. A. La.r.s.en, Lundgren, Carl Fleischer, and all the rest of them, who fancied n.o.body sold good wine but themselves! He would get the editor of the _Strandvik Gazette_ to quote the Royal compliment to the firm of Nachmann & Co.--it was a credit to the town to have such a business in its midst.

When Nachmann rose, there was a sudden silence; one could have heard a pin drop. But since His Majesty took the occurrence in such good part, the others could do so too. Nevertheless, Justice Heidt considered Nachmann's behaviour unjustifiable and a breach of etiquette. He cast a glance of stern reproof at the wine merchant, but the latter was so elated that he misunderstood its meaning, and, raising his gla.s.s, nodded pleasantly in return: "Your health, Justice!"

Old Klementsen, the parish clerk, who had hardly eaten at all for two days in order to get full value out of the banquet for his twelve shillings, had been shovelling away as hard as he could stuff, and drinking in proportion. He was now in high feather as a result, and his one idea now was to get up and make a speech in honour of Carl Johan, whom he had seen in 1840.

His neighbours with difficulty restrained him, tearing the tails of his coat in their efforts to keep him in his seat. Finally, they got him down into the police cells on the ground floor, when he delivered his loyal oration to the warder.

Up in the gallery sat the ladies of the town, perspiring in their Sunday best; it was almost hot enough up there to boil a lobster. All were thirsty too, and matters were not improved by the sight of their respective husbands and fathers in the hall below eating and drinking _ad libitum_ of the best, while they themselves had neither bite nor sup.

Miss Svane, headmistress of the girls' school, could not restrain her emotions, and declared warmly that "it was easy enough to be a loyal subject of His Majesty if that was how they did it!"

Cilia Braaten had never seen a King at meals before; she was gratified with the new experience, and had no thought for anything else until Miss Svane delivered her envious dictum. Then, however, she resolutely sent off a boy for six bottles of lemonade, in which the ladies drank to His Majesty's health--and, literally speaking, drank it warmly.

At last the time came for the Royal party to leave, and the departure took place amid an endless thunder of cheering. Rockets whizzed, the gun at the fire-station boomed in salute. But in the banqueting-hall the fun grew fast and furious.

Bowls of punch were brought in, and Schoolmaster Iversen made thirteen speeches, to which n.o.body listened at all. Skipper Abrahamsen jumped up on the table and made another for the Norwegian play, in the course of which he managed to empty his gla.s.s of punch over Warden Prois's new uniform, at which that worthy, very naturally incensed, cursed the patriot emphatically for behaving like a monkey on a tightrope.

Even aged Klementsen had come to life again, and found his way upstairs from the cells, somewhat pale but resolute still. His appearance was greeted with a burst of cheering, and a party of enthusiasts chaired him round the hall, singing patriotic songs the while. The singing and shouting continued well on towards morning, and a street sweeper declared he had heard them howling out "G.o.d save our gracious King" at half-past six--but his watch, no doubt, must have been fast!

Next day the _Strandvik Gazette_ contained a poem ent.i.tled "A Royal Visit," from which the following verses concerning the banquet may be quoted:

"'Twas plain to see that Strandvik town Lacked neither meat nor mirth, The banquet might have brought renown To any place on earth.

The dishes, numbering fourteen, Were rich enough to make, If such his daily fare had been, The Royal tummy ache.

And healths were drunk and speeches very wittily were said, And those who had no speech to make, they drank the wine instead.

But yet in spite of speeches gay And wit and wine, I dare to say His Majesty was glad to get away!"

XV

PETER OILAND

Peter Oiland, the new master at the girls' school in Strandvik, was a tall, thin man of about thirty. He had taken a theological degree, and his solemn, clean face gave him a somewhat clerical air; his manner, too, appeared calm and reserved.

"Not much fun to be got out of him, by his looks," said Old Nick, the first time he encountered Peter Oiland's lanky figure and serious countenance on his way up through the town.

It was not from any predilection of his own, however, that Peter Oiland had come to study theology, but a result of circ.u.mstances which left him no choice in the matter. His studies had been carried through at the expense of an old uncle, who was parish clerk at Sandefjord, and whose dearest wish it was to see the boy in Holy Orders. Only fancy; to be handing the ca.s.sock to a nephew of his own.