Garman and Worse a Norwegian Novel Read online

  Alexander Lange Kielland

  Garman And Worse A Norwegian Novel

  Chapter 1 Pg 1

  Nothing Is So Boundless As The Sea, Nothing So Patient. On Its Broad

  Back It Bears, Like A Good-Natured Elephant, The Tiny Mannikins Which

  Tread The Earth; And In Its Vast Cool Depths It Has Place For All Mortal

  Woes. It Is Not True That The Sea Is Faithless, For It Has Never

  Promised Anything; Without Claim, Without Obligation, Free, Pure, And

  Genuine Beats The Mighty Heart, The Last Sound One In an Ailing World.

  And While The Mannikins Strain Their Eyes Over It, The Sea Sings Its Old

  Song. Many Understand It Scarce At All, But Never Two Understand It In

  The Same Manner, For The Sea Has A Distinct Word For Each One That Sets

  Himself Face To Face With It.

  It Smiles With Green Shining Ripples To The Barelegged Urchin Who

  Catches Crabs; It Breaks In blue Billows Against The Ship, And Sends The

  Fresh Salt Spray Far In Over The Deck. Heavy Leaden Seas Come Rolling In

  On The Beach, And While The Weary Eye Follows The Long Hoary Breakers,

  The Stripes Of Foam Wash Up In Sparkling Curves Over The Even Sand; And

  In The Hollow Sound, When The Billows Roll Over For The Last Time, There

  Is Something Of A Hidden Understanding--Each Thinks On His Own Life, And

  Bows His Head Towards The Ocean As If It Were A Friend Who Knows It All

  And Keeps It Fast.

  But What The Sea Is For Those Who Live Along Its Strand None Can Ever

  Know, For They Say Nothing. They Live All Their Life With Face Turned To

  The Ocean; The Sea Is Their Companion, Their Adviser, Their Friend And

  Their Enemy, Their Inheritance And Their Churchyard. The Relation

  Therefore Remains A Silent One, And The Look Which Gazes Over The Sea

  Changes With Its Varying Aspect, Now Comforting, Now Half Fearful And

  Defiant. But Take One Of These Shore-Dwellers, And Move Him Far Landward

  Among The Mountains, Into The Loveliest Valley You Can Find; Give Him

  The Best Food, And The Softest Bed. He Will Not Touch Your Food, Or

  Sleep In Your Bed, But Without Turning His Head He Will Clamber From

  Hill To Hill, Until Far Off His Eye Catches Something Blue He Knows, And

  With Swelling Heart He Gazes Towards The Little Azure Streak That Shines

  Far Away, Until It Grows Into A Blue Glittering Horizon; But He Says

  Nothing.

  Chapter 1 Pg 2

  People In The Town Often Said To Richard Garman, "How Can You Endure

  That Lonely Life Out There In Your Lighthouse?" The Old Gentleman Always

  Answered, "Well, You See, One Never Feels Lonely By The Sea When Once

  One Has Made Its Acquaintance; And Besides, I Have My Little Madeleine."

  And That Was The Feeling Of His Heart. The Ten Years He Had Passed Out

  There On The Lonely Coast Were Among The Best Of His Life, And That Life

  Had Been Wild And Adventurous Enough; So, Whether He Was Now Weary Of

  The World, Or Whether It Was His Little Daughter, Or Whether It Was The

  Sea That Attracted Him, Or Whether It Was Something Of All Three, He Had

  Quieted Down, And Never Once Thought Of Leaving The Lighthouse Of

  Bratvold. This Was What No One Could Have Credited; And When It Was

  Rumoured That Richard Garman, The _Attache_, A Son Of The First

  Commercial Family Of The Town, Was Seeking The Simple Post Of

  Lighthouse-Keeper, Most People Were Inclined To Laugh Heartily At This

  New Fancy Of "The Mad Student." "The Mad Student" Was A Nickname In The

  Town For Richard Garman, Which Was Doubtless Well Earned; For Although

  He Had Been But Little At Home Since He Had Grown To Manhood, Enough Was

  Known Of His Wild And Pleasure-Seeking Career To Make Folks Regard Him

  With Silent Wonder.

  To Add To This, Too, The Visits He Paid To His Home Were Generally

  Coincident With Some Remarkable Event Or Another. Thus It Was When, As A

  Young Student, He Was Present At His Mother'S Funeral; And Even More So

  When He Came At A Break-Neck Pace From Paris To The Death-Bed Of The Old

  Consul, In a Costume And With An Air Which Took Away The Breath Of The

  Ladies, And Caused Confusion Among The Men. Since Then Richard Had Been

  But Little Seen. Rumour, However, Was Busy With Him. At One Time Some

  Commercial Traveller Had Seen Him At Zinck'S Hotel At Hamburg; Now He

  Was Living In a Palace; And Now The Story Was That He Was Existing In

  The Docks, And Writing Sailors' Letters For A Glass Of Beer.

  One Fine Day Garman And Worse'S Heavy State Carriage Was Seen On Its Way

  To The Quay. Inside Sat The Head Of The Firm, Consul C.F. Garman, And

  His Daughter Rachel, While Little Gabriel, His Younger Son, Was Sitting

  By The Side Of The Coachman. An Unbearable Curiosity Agitated The Groups

  On The Quay.

  The State Carriage Was Seldom To Be Seen In The Town, And Now At This

  Very Moment The Hamburg Steamer Was Expected. At Length An _Employe_ Of

  The Firm Came To The Carriage Window, And, After A Few Irrelevant

  Remarks, Ventured To Ask Who Was Coming.

  "I Am Expecting My Brother The _Attache_, And His Daughter," Answered

  Consul Garman, While With A Movement Peculiar To Himself He Adjusted His

  Smoothly Shaven Chin In His Stiff Neckcloth.

  This Information Increased The Excitement. Richard Garman Was Coming,

  "The Mad Student," "The _Attache_" As He Was Sometimes Called; And With

  A Daughter, Too! But How Could They Belong To Each Other? Could He Ever

  Have Been Really Married? It Was Hardly Likely.

  The Steamer Came. Consul Garman Went On Board, And Returned Shortly

  After With His Brother And A Little Dark-Haired Girl, Who Doubtless Was

  The Daughter.

  Chapter 1 Pg 3

  Richard Garman Was Soon Recognized, Although He Had Grown Somewhat

  Stouter: But The Upright, Elegant Bearing And The Striking Black

  Moustache Were Still The Same; While The Hair, Though Crisp And Curling

  As In The Old Days, Was Now Slightly Necked With Grey At The Temples. He

  Greeted Them All With A Friendly Smile As He Passed To The Carriage, And

  There Was More Than One Lady Who Felt That The Glance Of His Bright

  Brown Eye Rested Smilingly On Her For A Moment.

  The Carriage Rolled Off Through The Town, And Away Down The Long Avenue

  Which Led To The Large Family Mansion Of Sandsgaard.

  The Town Gossipped Itself Nearly Crazy, But Without Any Satisfactory

  Result. The House Of Garman Took Good Care Of Its Secrets.

  So Much Was, However, Clear: That Richard Garman Had Dissipated The

  Whole Of His Large Fortune, Or Else He Would Never Have Consented To

  Come Home And Eat The Bread Of Charity In His Brother'S House.

  On The Other Hand, The Relation Between The Brothers Was, At Least As

  Far As Appearances Went, A Most Cordial One. The Consul Gave A Grand

  Dinner, At Which He Drank His Brother'S Health, Adding At The Same Time

  The Hope That He Might Find Himself Happy In His Old Home.

  There Is Nothing So Irritating As
A Half-Fulfilled Scandal, And When

  Richard Garman A Short Time Afterwards Calmly Received The Post Of

  Lighthouse-Keeper At Bratvold, And Lived There Year After Year Without A

  Sign Of Doing Anything Worthy Of Remark, Each One In The Little Town

  Felt Himself Personally Affronted, And It Was A Source Of Wonder To All

  How Little The Garmans Seemed To Realize What They Owed To Society.

  As Far As That Went, Richard Himself Was Not Perfectly Clear How It Had

  All Come About; There Was Something About Christian Frederick He Could

  Not Understand. Whenever He Met His Brother, Or Even Got A Letter From

  Him, His Whole Nature Seemed To Change; Things He Would Otherwise Never

  Have Thought Of Attempting Appeared All At Once Quite Easy, And He Did

  Feats Which Afterwards Caused Him The Greatest Astonishment. When, In a

  State Of Doubt And Uncertainty, He Wrote Home For The Last Time, To Beg

  His Brother To Take Charge Of Little Madeleine, His Only Thought Was To

  Make An End Of His Wasted Life, The Sooner The Better, Directly His

  Daughter Was Placed In Safety. But Just Then He Happened To Get A

  Remittance Enclosed In an Extraordinary Letter, In Which Occurred

  Several Puzzling Business Terms. There Was Something About

  "Liquidation," And Closing Up An Account Which Required His Presence,

  And In The Middle Of It All There Were Certain Expressions Which Seemed

  To Have Stumbled Accidentally Into The Commercial Style. For Instance,

  In One Place There Was "Brother Of My Boyhood;" And Further On, "With

  Sincere Wishes For Brotherly Companionship;" And Finally, He Read, In

  The Middle Of A Long Involved Sentence, "Dear Richard, Don'T Lose

  Heart." This Stirred Richard Garman Into Action: He Made An Effort, And

  Set Off Home. When He Saw His Brother Come On Board The Steamer The

  Tears Came To His Eyes, And He Was On The Point Of Opening His Arms To

  Embrace Him. The Consul, However, Held Out His Hand, And Said Quietly,

  "Welcome, Richard! Where Are Your Things?"

  Since Then Nothing Had Been Said About The Letter; Once Only Had Richard

  Garman Ventured To Allude To It, When The Consul Seemed To Imagine That

  He Wished To Settle Up The Accounts That Were Therein Mentioned. Nothing

  Could Have Been Further From The _Attache'S_ Thoughts, And He Felt That

  Chapter 1 Pg 4

  The Bare Idea Was Almost An Injury. "Christian Frederick Is A Wonderful

  Man," Thought Richard; "And What A Man Of Business He Is!"

  One Day Consul Garman Said To His Brother, "Shall We Drive Out To

  Bratvold, And Have A Look At The New Lighthouse?"

  Richard Was Only Too Glad To Go. From His Earliest Days He Had Loved The

  Lonely Coast, With Its Long Stretches Of Dark Heather And Sand, And The

  Vast Open Sea; The Lighthouse Also Interested Him Greatly.

  When The Brothers Got Into The Carriage Again To Drive Back To The Town,

  The _Attache_ Said, "Do You Know, Christian Frederick, I Can'T Imagine A

  Position More Suitable To Such A Wreck As Myself Than That Of

  Lighthouse-Keeper Out Here."

  "There Is No Reason You Should Not Have It," Answered His Brother.

  "Nonsense! How Could It Be Managed?" Answered Richard, As He Knocked The

  Ashes Off His Cigar.

  "Now Listen, Richard," Replied The Consul, Quickly. "If There Is A Thing

  I Must Find Fault With You For, It Is Your Want Of Self-Reliance. Don'T

  You Suppose That, With Your Gifts And Attainments, You Could Get A Far

  Higher Post If You Only Chose To Apply For It?"

  "No; But, Christian Frederick--" Exclaimed The _Attache_, Regarding His

  Brother With Astonishment.

  "It'S Perfectly True," Replied The Consul. "If You Want The Post, They

  Must Give It To You; And If There Should Be Any Difficulty, I Feel

  Pretty Certain That A Word From Us To The Authorities Would Soon Settle

  It."

  The Matter Was Thus Concluded, And Richard Garman Was Appointed

  Lighthouse-Keeper At Bratvold, Either Because Of His Gifts And

  Attainments Or By Reason Of A Timely Word To The Authorities. The Very

  Sameness Of His Existence Did The Old Cavalier Good; The Few Duties He

  Had, He Performed With The Greatest Diligence And Exactitude.

  He Passed Most Of His Spare Time In Smoking Cigarettes, And Looking Out

  To Sea Through The Large Telescope, Which Was Mounted On A Stand, And

  Which He Had Got As A Present From Christian Frederick. He Was Truly

  Weary, And He Could Not But Wonder How He Had So Long Kept His Taste For

  The Irregular Life He Had Led In Foreign Lands. There Was One Thing That

  Even More Excited His Wonder, And That Was How Well He Got On With His

  Income. To Live On A Hundred A Year Seemed To Him Nothing Less Than A

  Work Of Art, And Yet He Managed It. It Must Be Acknowledged That He Had

  A Small Private Income, But His Brother Always Told Him It Was As Good

  As Nothing; How Much It Was, And From What Source It Was Really Derived,

  He Never Had An Idea. It Is True That There Came Each Year A Current

  Account From Garman And Worse, Made Out In The Consul'S Own Hand, And He

  Also Frequently Got Business Letters From His Brother; But Neither The

  One Nor The Other Made Things Clearer To Him. He Signed His Name To All

  Papers Which Were Sent To Him, In What Appeared The Proper Place.

  Sometimes He Got A Bill Of Exchange To Execute, And This He Did To The

  Chapter 1 Pg 5

  Best Of His Ability; But Everything Still Remained To Him In The Same

  State Of Darkness As Before.

  One Thing, However, Was Certain: Richard Got On Capitally. He Kept Two

  Assistants For The Lanterns; He Had His Riding Horse Don Juan, And A

  Cart-Horse As Well. His Cellar Was Well Filled With Wine; And He Always

  Had A Little Ready Money At Hand, For Which He Had No Immediate Use.

  Thus, When Any One Complained To Him Of The Bad Times, He Recommended

  Them To Come Into The Country; It Was Incredible How Cheaply One Could

  Live There.

  In The Ten Years They Had Passed At Bratvold, Madeleine Had Grown To

  Womanhood, And Had Thriven Beyond General Expectation; And When She Had

  Got Quite At Home In The Language (Her Mother Had Been A Frenchwoman),

  She Soon Got On The Best Of Terms With All Their Neighbours. She Did Not

  Remain Much In The House, But Passed Most Of Her Time At The Farmhouses,

  Or By The Sea, Or The Little Boat Haven.

  A Whole Regiment Of Governesses Had Attempted To Teach Madeleine, But

  The Task Was A Difficult One; And When The Governesses Were Ugly Her

  Father Could Not Abide Them, And When One Came Who Was Pretty There Were

  Other Objections. Richard Paid Frequent Visits To Sandsgaard, Either On

  Don Juan Or In The Garmans' Dogcart, Which Was Sent To Fetch Him. The

  Chilly, Old-Fashioned House, And The Reserved And Polished Manners Of

  Its Inmates, Had Made A Repellant Impression On Madeleine. For Her

  Cousin Rachel, Who Was Only A Few Years Her Elder, She Had No Liking.

  She Preferred, Therefore, To Remain At Home, And Her Father Was Never

  Absent For More Than A Few Days At A Time. She Spent Most Of Her Time On

  The Shore Or In The Neighbouring Cottages, In The Society Of Fishermen

  And Pilots. Merry And Fearless As She Was, These Men Were Glad To Take

  Her Out In Fin
e Weather In Their Boats. She Thus Learnt To Fish, To

  Handle A Sail, Or To Distinguish The Different Craft By Their Rig.

  Madeleine Had One Particular Friend Whose Name Was Per, Who Was Three Or

  Four Years Older Than Herself, And Who Lived In The Cottage Nearest To

  The Lighthouse. Per Was Tall And Strongly Built, With A Crop Of Stiff,

  Sandy Hair, And A Big Hand As Hard As Horn From Constant Rowing; His

  Eyes Were Small And Keen, As Is Often Seen Among Those Who From Their

  Childhood Are In The Habit Of Peering Out To Sea Through Rain And Fog.

  Per'S Father Had Been A Widower, And Per His Only Child, But He Managed

  To Get Married Again, And Now The Family Increased Year After Year. The

  Neighbours Were Always Urging Per To Get His Father To Divide The

  Property With Him, But Per Preferred To Wait The Turn Of Events. The

  Longer He Waited The More Brothers And Sisters He Had To Share With. His

  Friends Laughed At Him, And Somebody One Day Called Him "Wait Per," A

  Joke Which Caused Great Amusement At The Time, And The Nickname Stuck To

  Him Ever Afterwards. Beyond This, Per Was Not A Lad To Be Laughed At; He

  Was One Of The Most Active Boatmen Of The Community, And At The Same

  Time The Most Peaceable Creature On Earth. He Did Not Trouble To

  Distinguish Himself, But He Had A Kind Of Natural Love For Work, And, As

  He Was Afraid Of Nothing, The General Feeling Was That Per Was A Lad

  That Would Get On.

  The Friendship Between Per And Madeleine Was Very Cordial On Both Sides.

  At First Some Of The Other Young Fellows Tried To Take Her From Him, But

  One Day It So Happened That When She Was Out With Per, A Fresh

  Chapter 1 Pg 6

  North-Westerly Breeze Sprang Up. Per'S Boat And Tackle Were Always Of