Hunger Part 12

"I have--more's the pity--a whole store full of bed-clothes," he replied; and when I had opened it he just cast one glance over it and said, "No, excuse me, but I haven't any use for that either."

"I wanted to show you the worse side first," said I; "it's much better on the other side."

"Ay, ay; it's no good. I won't own it; and you wouldn't raise a penny on it anywhere."

"No, it's clear it isn't worth anything," I said; "but I thought it might go with another old blanket at an auction."

"Well, no; it's no use."

"Three pence?" said I.

"No; I won't have it at all, man! I wouldn't have it in the house!" I took it under my arm and went home.

I acted as if nothing had pa.s.sed, spread it over the bed again, smoothed it well out, as was my custom, and tried to wipe away every trace of my late action. I could not possibly have been in my right mind at the moment when I came to the conclusion to commit this rascally trick. The more I thought over it the more unreasonable it seemed to me. It must have been an attack of weakness; some relaxation in my inner self that had surprised me when off my guard. Neither had I fallen straight into the trap. I had half felt that I was going the wrong road, and I expressly offered my gla.s.ses first, and I rejoiced greatly that I had not had the opportunity of carrying into effect this fault which would have sullied the last hours I had to live.

I wandered out into the city again. I let myself sink upon one of the seats by Our Saviour's Church; dozed with my head on my breast, apathetic after my last excitement, sick and famished with hunger. And time went by.

I should have to sit out this hour, too. It was a little lighter outside than in the house, and it seemed to me that my chest did not pain quite so badly out in the open air. I should get home, too, soon enough--and I dozed, and thought, and suffered fearfully.

I had found a little pebble; I wiped it clean on my coat sleeve and put it into my mouth so that I might have something to mumble. Otherwise I did not stir, and didn't even wink an eyelid. People came and went; the noise of cars, the tramp of hoofs, and chatter of tongues filled the air. I might try with the b.u.t.tons. Of course there would be no use in trying; and besides, I was now in a rather bad way; but when I came to consider the matter closely, I would be obliged, as it were, to pa.s.s in the direction of my "Uncle's" as I went home. At last I got up, dragging myself slowly to my feet, and reeled down the streets. It began to burn over my eyebrows--fever was setting in, and I hurried as fast as I could. Once more I pa.s.sed the baker's shop where the little loaf lay. "Well, we must stop here!" I said, with affected decision.

But supposing I were to go in and beg for a bit of bread? Surely that was a fleeting thought, a flash; it could never really have occurred to me seriously. "Fie!" I whispered to myself, and shook my head, and held on my way. In Rebslager a pair of lovers stood in a doorway and talked together softly; a little farther up a girl popped her head out of a window. I walked so slowly and thoughtfully, that I looked as if I might be deep in meditation on nothing in particular, and the wench came out into the street. "How is the world treating you, old fellow?

Eh, what, are you ill? Nay, the Lord preserve us, what a face!" and she drew away frightened. I pulled up at once: What's amiss with my face?

Had I really begun to die? I felt over my cheeks with my hand; thin--naturally, I was thin--my cheeks were like two hollowed bowls; but Lord ... I reeled along again, but again came to a standstill; I must be quite inconceivably thin. Who knows but that my eyes were sinking right into my head? How did I look in reality? It was the very deuce that one must let oneself turn into a living deformity for sheer hunger's sake. Once more I was seized by fury, a last flaring up, a final spasm. "Preserve me, what a face. Eh?" Here I was, with a head that couldn't be matched in the whole country, with a pair of fists that, by the Lord, could grind a navvy into finest dust, and yet I went and hungered myself into a deformity, right in the town of Christiania.

Was there any rhyme or reason in that? I had sat in saddle, toiled day and night like a carrier's horse.

I had read my eyes out of their sockets, had starved the brains out of my head, and what the devil had I gained by it? Even a street hussy prayed G.o.d to deliver her from the sight of me. Well, now, there should be a stop to it. Do you understand that? Stop it shall, or the devil take a worse hold of me.

With steadily increasing fury, grinding my teeth under the consciousness of my impotence, with tears and oaths I raged on, without looking at the people who pa.s.sed me by. I commenced once more to martyr myself, ran my forehead against lamp-posts on purpose, dug my nails deep into my palms, bit my tongue with frenzy when it didn't articulate clearly, and laughed insanely each time it hurt much.

Yes; but what shall I do? I asked myself at last, and I stamped many times on the pavement and repeated, What shall I do? A gentleman just going by remarks, with a smile, "You ought to go and ask to be locked up." I looked after him. One of our well-known lady's doctors, nicknamed "The Duke." Not even he understood my real condition--a man I knew; whose hand I had shaken. I grew quiet. Locked up? Yes, I was mad; he was right. I felt madness in my blood; felt its darting pain through my brain. So that was to be the end of me! Yes, yes; and I resume my wearisome, painful walk. There was the haven in which I was to find rest.

Suddenly I stop again. But not locked up! I say, not that; and I grew almost hoa.r.s.e with fear. I implored grace for myself; begged to the wind and weather not to be locked up. I should have to be brought to the guard-house again, imprisoned in a dark cell which had not a spark of light in it. Not that! There must be other channels yet open that I had not tried, and I would try them. I would be so earnestly painstaking; would take good time for it, and go indefatigably round from house to house. For example, there was Cisler the music-seller; I hadn't been to him at all. Some remedy would turn up!.... Thus I stumbled on, and talked until I brought myself to weep with emotion.

Cisler! Was that perchance a hint from on high? His name had struck me for no reason, and he lived so far away; but I would look him up all the same, go slowly, and rest between times. I knew the place well; I had been there often, when times were good had bought much music from him. Should I ask him for sixpence? Perhaps that might make him feel uncomfortable. I would ask him for a shilling. I went into the shop, and asked for the chief. They showed me into his office; there he sat--handsome, well-dressed in the latest style--running down some accounts. I stammered through an excuse, and set forth my errand.

Compelled by need to apply to him ... it should not be very long till I could pay it back ... when I got paid for my newspaper article.... He would confer such a great benefit on me.... Even as I was speaking he turned about to his desk, and resumed his work. When I had finished, he glanced sideways at me, shook his handsome head, and said, "No"; simply "no"--no explanation--not another word.

My knees trembled fearfully, and I supported myself against the little polished barrier. I must try once more. Why should just his name have occurred to me as I stood far away from there in "It won't be I that will do that," he observed; adding, "and let me tell you, at the same time, I've had about enough of this."

I tore myself out, sick with hunger, and boiling with shame. I had turned myself into a dog for the sake of a miserable bone, and I had not got it. Nay, now there must be an end of this! It had really gone all too far with me. I had held myself up for many years, stood erect through so many hard hours, and now, all at once, I had sunk to the lowest form of begging. This one day had coa.r.s.ened my whole mind, bespattered my soul with shamelessness. I had not been too abashed to stand and whine in the pettiest huckster's shop, and what had it availed me?

But was I not then without the veriest atom of bread to put inside my mouth? I had succeeded in rendering myself a thing loathsome to myself.

Yes, yes; but it must come to an end. Presently they would lock the outer door at home? I must hurry unless I wished to lie in the guard-house again.

This gave me strength. Lie in that cell again I would not. With body bent forward, and my hands pressed hard against my left ribs to deaden the stings a little, I struggled on, keeping my eyes fastened upon the paving-stones that I might not be forced to bow to possible acquaintances, and hastened to the fire look-out. G.o.d be praised! it was only seven o'clock by the dial on Our Saviour's; I had three hours yet before the door would be locked. What a fright I had been in!

Well, there was not a stone left unturned. I had done all I could. To think that I really could not succeed once in a whole day! If I told it no one could believe it; if I were to write it down they would say I had invented it. Not in a single place! Well, well, there is no help for it. Before all, don't go and get pathetic again. Bah! how disgusting! I can a.s.sure you, it makes me have a loathing for you. If all hope is over, why there is an end of it. Couldn't I, for that matter, steal a handful of oats in the stable? A streak of light--a ray--yet I knew the stable was shut.

I took my ease, and crept home at a slow snail's pace. I felt thirsty, luckily for the first time through the whole day, and I went and sought about for a place where I could get a drink. I was a long distance away from the bazaar, and I would not ask at a private house. Perhaps, though, I could wait till I got home; it would take a quarter of an hour. It was not at all so certain that I could keep down a draught of water, either; my stomach no longer suffered in any way--I even felt nausea at the spittle I swallowed. But the b.u.t.tons! I had not tried the b.u.t.tons at all yet. There I stood, stock-still, and commenced to smile.

Maybe there was a remedy, in spite of all! I wasn't totally doomed. I should certainly get a penny for them; tomorrow I might raise another some place or other, and Thursday I might be paid for my newspaper article. I should just see it would come out all right. To think that I could really go and forget the b.u.t.tons. I took them out of my pocket, and inspected them as I walked on again. My eyes grew dazed with joy. I did not see the street; I simply went on. Didn't I know exactly the big p.a.w.n-shop--my refuge in the dark evenings, with my blood-sucking friend? One by one my possessions had vanished there--my little things from home--my last book. I liked to go there on auction days, to look on, and rejoice each time my books seemed likely to fall into good hands. Magelsen, the actor, had my watch; I was almost proud of that. A diary, in which I had written my first small poetical attempt, had been bought by an acquaintance, and my topcoat had found a haven with a photographer, to be used in the studio. So there was no cause to grumble about any of them. I held my b.u.t.tons ready in my hand; "Uncle"

is sitting at his desk, writing. "I am not in a hurry," I say, afraid of disturbing him, and making him impatient at my application. My voice sounded so curiously hollow I hardly recognized it again, and my heart beat like a sledge-hammer.

He came smilingly over to me, as was his wont, laid both his hands flat on the counter, and looked at my face without saying anything. Yes, I had brought something of which I would ask him if he could make any use; something which is only in my way at home, a.s.sure you of it--are quite an annoyance--some b.u.t.tons. Well, what then? what was there about the b.u.t.tons? and he thrusts his eyes down close to my hand. Couldn't he give me a couple of halfpence for them?--whatever he thought himself--quite according to his own judgment. "For the b.u.t.tons?"--and "Uncle" stares astonishedly at me--"for these b.u.t.tons?" Only for a cigar or whatever he liked himself; I was just pa.s.sing, and thought I would look in.

Upon this, the old p.a.w.nbroker burst out laughing, and returned to his desk without saying a word. There I stood; I had not hoped for much, yet, all the same, I had thought of a possibility of being helped. This laughter was my death-warrant. It couldn't, I suppose, be of any use trying with my eyegla.s.ses either? Of course, I would let my gla.s.ses go in with them; that was a matter of course, said I, and I took them off.

Only a penny, or if he wished, a halfpenny.

"You know quite well I can't lend you anything on your gla.s.ses," said "Uncle"; I told you that once before."

"But I want a stamp," I said, dully. "I can't even send off the letters I have written; a penny or a halfpenny stamp, just as you will."

"Oh, G.o.d help you, go your way!" he replied, and motioned me off with his hands.

Yes, yes; well, it must be so, I said to myself. Mechanically, I put on my gla.s.ses again, took the b.u.t.tons in my hand, and, turning away, bade him good-night, and closed the door after me as usual. Well, now, there was nothing more to be done! To think he would not take them at any price, I muttered. They are almost new b.u.t.tons; I can't understand it.

Whilst I stood, lost in thought, a man pa.s.sed by and entered the office. He had given me a little shove in his hurry. We both made excuses, and I turned round and looked after him.

"What! is that you?" he said, suddenly, when half-way up the steps. He came back, and I recognized him. "G.o.d bless me, man, what on earth do you look like? What were you doing in there?"

"Oh, I had business. You are going in too, I see."

"Yes; what were you in with?"

My knees trembled; I supported myself against the wall, and stretched out my hand with the b.u.t.tons in it.

"What the deuce!" he cried. "No; this is really going too far."

"Good-night!" said I, and was about to go; I felt the tears choking my breast.

"No; wait a minute," he said.

What was I to wait for? Was he not himself on the road to my "Uncle,"

bringing, perhaps, his engagement ring--had been hungry, perhaps, for several days--owed his landlady?

"Yes," I replied; "if you will be out soon...."

"Of course," he broke in, seizing hold of my arm; "but I may as well tell you I don't believe you. You are such an idiot, that it's better you come in along with me."

I understood what he meant, suddenly felt a little spark of pride, and answered:

"I can't; I promised to be in Bernt Akers Street at half-past seven, and...."

"Half-past seven, quite so; but it's eight now. Here I am, standing with the watch in my hand that I'm going to p.a.w.n. So, in with you, you hungry sinner! I'll get you five shillings anyhow," and he pushed me in.

Part III