Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [40]
“You have certainly caused considerable diversion since you came,” Reinert said acrimoniously.
To this Nagel replied, “Well, to you, sir, I owe a private apology, and I’ll make all the amends you might require; but not now. Not now, all right?”
“No, this is not the place for it,” Reinert agreed.
“Besides, I’m happy today,” Nagel went on, a warm smile flitting across his face. This smile lighted up his face, so that for a moment he looked like a child. “It’s a wonderful evening, and soon the stars will come out. Bonfires are blazing everywhere on the hills, and from the sea comes the sound of singing. Just listen! Not bad at all. I’m no expert, but isn’t it rather good? It reminds me a little of a night in the Mediterranean, off the coast of Tunis. There were some hundred passengers on board, a choir hailing from somewhere in Sardinia. Since I wasn’t part of the company and couldn’t sing, I just sat listening on deck while the choir was singing in the saloon below. It went on nearly until morning; I’ll never forget how nice2 it sounded in the sultry night. I surreptitiously closed the doors to the saloon, shutting the singing up, so to speak, and then it was as though the sound came from the bottom of the sea, as though the ship were about to sail into eternity to resounding music. Try to imagine something like an ocean filled with song, a subterranean choir.”
Miss Andresen, who sat next to Nagel, said impulsively, “Oh God, yes, how lovely it must have been!”
“Only once have I heard something more beautiful, and that was in a dream. But it was a long time ago, I was still a child when I had that dream. When you grow up, you no longer have beautiful dreams like that.”
“No?” said Miss Andresen.
“Oh no. Well, it’s an exaggeration, of course, but... I still remember my last dream so clearly: I saw an open marsh.... Oh, excuse me, I’m talking all the time, forcing you to listen to me. It may be tiresome in the long run. I don’t always talk so much.”
Then Dagny Kielland opened her mouth and said, “There’s nobody here, I think, who wouldn’t rather listen to you than relate something herself.” And leaning toward Mrs. Stenersen, she whispered, “Can’t you get him started? Please, do. Just listen to that voice!”
Nagel said, smiling, “I’ll be glad to jabber away. All in all, I’m minded to this evening, God knows what’s come over me.... Well, actually, that little dream wasn’t anything to talk about. True, I did see an open marsh, without trees, only with lots of roots lying about everywhere, like strangely writhing serpents. And then a madman who was walking around among all those crooked tree roots. I can still see him, he was pale and had a dark beard, but the beard was so small and sparse that his skin showed through everywhere. He was staring about him with wide-open eyes, and his eyes were full of suffering. Hiding behind a rock, I called out to him. Then he instantly looked at the rock, without seeming to wonder where the call was coming from; it was as though he knew I was lying exactly there, though I was well hidden. He kept staring at the rock the whole time. He won’t find me anyway, I thought, and if worst comes to worst and he does, I can take to my heels. And though I didn’t like to have him staring at me, I called out once more to tease him. He took a couple of steps toward me, his mouth open and ready to bite, but he couldn’t get going; the roots were piling up before him—he was weighed down by roots and couldn’t budge. I called out again, many times in a row, to get him thoroughly worked up, and he began tackling the roots to clear them away, tossing them aside by armfuls in his laborious struggle to reach me. But it was no use. Then he started groaning, so loud that I could hear him despite the distance, his eyes fixed in a painful stare. When I saw I was perfectly safe, I got up and swung my cap, showing myself in my full height, teasing him by continually shouting halloo to him, stamping the ground and shouting halloo. I even went closer so I could