Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [13]
I
IN THE MIDDLE of last summer a small Norwegian coastal town was the scene of some highly unusual events. A stranger appeared in town, a certain Nagel, a remarkable, eccentric charlatan who did a lot of curious things and then disappeared as suddenly as he had come. What’s more, the man was visited by a mysterious young lady, who came on heaven knows what business and left after only a few hours, afraid to stay any longer. But this is not the beginning....
The beginning is as follows: When the steamer docked around six o’clock in the evening, there appeared on deck two or three passengers, including a man wearing a loud yellow suit and a wide velvet cap. This was the evening of June 12, for flags were flying all over town in honor of Miss Kielland’s engagement, which had been announced that day. The porter from the Central Hotel immediately went on board, and the man in the yellow suit handed him his luggage; at the same time he surrendered his ticket to one of the ship’s officers. But then, instead of going ashore, he began pacing up and down the deck. He seemed to be greatly agitated. When the ship’s bell rang for the third time, he hadn’t even paid his bill to the steward.
As he was doing this he suddenly paused, noticing that the ship was already putting out. Taken aback, he hesitated a moment, then waved to the porter on shore and said to him over the railing, “All right, take my luggage to the hotel and reserve a room for me anyway.”
Whereupon the ship carried him farther out the fjord.
This man was Johan Nilsen Nagel.
The porter took his luggage away on a cart. It consisted of only two small bags and a fur coat—yes, a fur coat, though it was the middle of summer—except for a valise and a violin case. None of it was tagged.
Around noon the following day Johan Nagel arrived at the hotel overland, traveling by coach and pair. He could just as easily, well, far more easily, have come by sea, and yet he arrived by carriage. He brought some more luggage: on the front seat was a trunk and, beside it, a traveling bag, a coat, and a carrying strap with some articles in it. The carrying strap was marked J. N. N. in beads.
While he was still sitting in the carriage, he asked the hotel keeper about his room, and when he was shown up to the second floor he began examining the walls, to see how thick they were and whether any sound could penetrate from the adjoining rooms. Then he suddenly asked the chambermaid, “What’s your name?”
“Sara.”
“Sara. And one more thing: Could I have a bite to eat? So, your name is Sara, is it? Tell me,” he resumed, “was there a pharmacy in this building at one time?”
Surprised, Sara replied, “Yes. But that was several years ago.”
“Several years ago, you say? Anyway, it struck me the moment I entered the hall; I couldn’t tell by the smell, but I had a feeling of it all the same. Oh well.”
When he came down for dinner, he sat through the whole meal without uttering a word. His fellow passengers from the steamer the evening before, the two gentlemen sitting at the end of the table, made signs to one another as he came in, even joking quite openly about yesterday’s mishap without his seeming to hear them. He ate rapidly, shook his head at dessert, and abruptly left the table by sliding backward off his stool. He immediately lighted a cigar and disappeared down the street.
He wasn’t seen again until long past midnight, returning shortly before the clock struck three. Where had he been? It became apparent later that he had gone back to the neighboring town, walking to and fro the whole long distance he had traveled by carriage in the morning. He must have had some very urgent business. When Sara opened the door to him he was wet with perspiration, but he smiled repeatedly at the maid and was in excellent spirits.
“Good heavens, what a lovely neck you have, girl!” he said.