Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [137]
As he walked on, his mood was softened by the bright, warm morning and the unceasing birdsong in the air. A cart came driving toward him; the boy driver says hello, Nagel does likewise, and a trailing dog wags his tail and looks him straight in the eye.... But why hadn’t he managed to die last night, fairly and squarely? He still grieved over it. He had laid himself to rest feeling quite satisfied to have reached the end; he was filled with a gentle happiness until he closed his eyes and fell asleep. By this time Dagny was up, maybe she had already gone out, and he hadn’t been able to do anything nice for her. He couldn’t have felt more ignominiously taken in! Miniman had added one more kindness to the many others his heart overflowed with, he had done him a favor and saved his life—the very same favor he himself had once done a stranger, an unfortunate who didn’t want to land in Hamburg. It was on that occasion he had earned his lifesaving medal, heh-heh, earned his lifesaving medal! Oh sure, you save people, you don’t hesitate to do a good deed sometimes, you go straight ahead and save people from death!
Feeling positively sheepish, he sneaked up to his room in the hotel and sat down. There everything was clean and cozy; the windows had been shined and newly ironed curtains hung. On the table was a bouquet of wildflowers in water. He had never seen any flowers there before, the surprise threw him into a state of happy wonderment and made him rub his hands. What a stroke of luck on such a morning! What a charming idea on the part of a poor chambermaid! A good person, that Sara! Yes, it really was a delightful morning. Even the faces down in the marketplace looked happy; the plasterer sat at his table quietly smoking his clay pipe, though he didn’t sell a pennyworth. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing, after all, that those wild plans of his last night had come to nothing! He thought with horror of the fear he had experienced as he was rushing about in search of water; he still trembled at the thought of it, and sitting safely in his chair in this pleasant bright room with the sun shining in, he had at that moment a wonderful feeling of having been delivered from evil. But as a last resort, there was still a good, unerring expedient left which he hadn’t tried! You might not succeed the first time—you didn’t die, you stood up again; but there was, for example, a little reliable six-shooter you could get from any old arms dealer whenever it was needed. The account was not settled yet....
Sara knocked on the door. She had heard he had come in and wanted to let him know that breakfast was served. As she was about to leave, he called her back and asked if the flowers were from her.
Yes, they were from her, nothing worth mentioning.
Still he took her hand.
“Where have you been all night?” she asked, smiling. “You weren’t home at all, were you?”
“Look,” he said, “this thing with the flowers was really a charming gesture on your part; you also shined the windows and gave me fresh curtains last night. I cannot tell you how much pleasure you have given me by this, I wish you every happiness in return for it.” Suddenly he experiences one of those crazy moments in which he becomes sheer mood, nothing but unpredictable whims, and says, “Listen, I had a fur coat with me when I came to this hotel. God only knows what has become of it, but I definitely had a fur coat with me, and I’m going to give it to you. Oh yes, I’m doing it to show my gratitude, my mind is made up, the coat is yours.”
Sara burst into a loud, hearty laugh. What was she to do with a fur coat?
Well, he saw her point, but that was