Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [17]
“Not today, not today,” he says to the woman evasively, and with that he walks straight up to the hotel keeper and addresses him, cap in hand: “I’ve brought the coal up to the kitchen; I suppose that will be all for today?”
“Yes,” the hotel keeper replies, “what else should there be?”
“No,” Miniman says, quietly withdrawing.
He was exceptionally ugly. He had calm blue eyes, but horrible protruding front teeth and an extremely twisted gait because of a physical defect. His hair was quite gray; his beard on the other hand was darker, but so sparse that his skin showed through everywhere. The man had once been a sailor, but was now living with a relative who had a small coal business by the quayside. He hardly ever raised his eyes from the floor when he spoke to somebody.
They called to him from one of the tables; a gentleman in a gray summer suit eagerly beckoned to him, showing him a bottle of beer.
“Come and have a glass of mother’s milk. Besides, I’d like to see what you look like without a beard,” he says.
Respectfully, cap still in hand and with bent back, Miniman approaches the table. As he passed Nagel he gave him a special bow and moved his lips slightly. He takes his stand before the gentleman in gray and whispers, “Not so loud, Your Honor, I beg you. There are strangers present, as you can see.”
“But good heavens,” the deputy judge says, “I only wanted to offer you a glass of beer. And here you come and scold me for talking too loud.”
“No, you misunderstand me, and I beg your pardon. But since there are strangers present, I’d rather not start with those old tricks again. And I can’t drink beer, not now.”
“Oh, you can’t? So you can’t drink beer?”
“No, but thank you, not now.”
“So, you thank me, but not now? When will you thank me then? Ha-ha-ha, a fine parson’s son you are! Just look at the way you express yourself.”
“Oh, you misunderstand me; well, never mind.”
“There, there, no nonsense. What’s the matter with you?”
The deputy pulls Miniman onto a chair, and Miniman sits there for a moment but gets up again.
“No, leave me alone,” he says, “I can’t stand drink; nowadays I can stand it even less than I used to, God knows why. I get drunk before I know it and become all confused.”
The deputy rises, looks intently at Miniman, pushes a glass into his hand and says, “Drink.”
Pause. Miniman looks up, brushes his hair off his forehead and remains silent.
“All right, I’ll do as you wish, but just a few drops,” he says. “Only a little, to have the honor of drinking a toast with you!”
“Drink up!” shouts the deputy, having to turn away so as not to burst out laughing.
“No, not quite, not quite. Why should I drink up when I dislike it? Well, don’t take offense and knit your brows on that account; anyway, since you insist, I’ll do it this once. I just hope it won’t go to my head. It’s ridiculous, but I can take so little. Skoal!”
“To the last drop!” the deputy shouts again, “bottoms up! There now, that’s right. And now we’ll sit down and make some faces. First, you can grind your teeth a little, and then I’ll snip off your beard and make you ten years younger. But first you’ll grind your teeth, all right?”
“No, I won’t, not in front of these people I don’t know. You mustn’t insist, I really won’t do it,” Miniman answers, wanting to leave. “Besides, I don’t have time,” he says.
“Don’t have time? That’s too bad. Ha-ha, that’s really too bad. Not even time?”
“No, not right now.”
“Now listen: suppose I told you I’ve long been thinking of getting you a new coat, to replace the one you’re wearing right now—. Anyway, let me see; sure, it’s completely rotten, look! It comes unstuck at the touch of a finger.” And the deputy finds a little hole