Mysteries - Knut Hamsun [68]
A whole hour later he still regarded this trick as just great when he thought about it. The letter would descend upon her like a miracle from heaven, from up above, from on high, dropped down on her by unknown hands. Just imagine what she would say when she received all that money! But when he asked himself again what she would say, how she would react to the whole thing, he felt disheartened: the plan was dangerous, all too bold; it was a poor, stupid plan. The catch was that she wouldn’t say a sensible word but behave like a goose. When the letter arrived she would simply fail to understand and leave it to others to find out. She would spread it out on the post-office counter, making the whole town get in on it; she would leave the whole matter to the postal clerk’s discretion right then and there, maybe even act bullheaded and say: Keep your money! Whereupon the postal clerk puts his finger to his nose and cries, Wait a bit, half a mo, I have an idea! And he opens up his books and finds that the same sum was sent from here a few days ago, the very same sum, not to say the very same bills, two hundred and ten kroner to such and such an address in Kristiania. The sender proves to be a certain Johan Nagel, a stranger, who for the time being is staying at the Central.... Sure, such postal clerks had a nose that long to sniff around with....
Nagel rang once more and had the hotel porter bring the letter back immediately.
In the end, all the nervous agitation he had experienced throughout the day made him sick and tired of it all. Frankly, he didn’t give a damn about the whole thing! What concern was it of his that the good Lord arranged a collision with loss of life on the Erie Railroad far inside America? None, to be sure! Well, he had just as little to do with Martha Gude, a respectable lady of this town.
For two days he didn’t step outside the hotel.
X
ON SATURDAY NIGHT Miniman entered Nagel’s room at the hotel. Miniman was wearing his new coat and was radiantly happy.
“I ran across the deputy,” he said, “and he didn’t move a muscle; he even asked me who had given me the coat. He was so wily, to put me to the test that way.”
“And what did you reply?”
“I laughed and replied I wouldn’t say, not to anybody, he must excuse me, goodbye! ... He’ll get his reply, all right—. Look, it’s a good thirteen years since I had a new coat; I’ve checked it out....1 I want to thank you for the latest money you gave me. Again, it was far too much money for an invalid, what am I going to do with it all? You make me so confused by all your kindnesses that it spooks me; it’s as if everything is loose inside me and can’t stay in place. Ha-ha-ha-ha! But, God help me, I’m behaving like a child. Sure, I knew well enough I would get the coat some day; what did I tell you? It often takes a while, but in the end I’m never let down. Lieutenant Hansen once promised me two woolen shirts which he didn’t wear anymore. That was two years ago, but I’m dead certain he’ll come through. It’s always like that: people remember it sooner or later and give me what I need when the time comes. But don’t you think I look like another person in decent clothes?”
“You haven’t been to see me for a long time.”
“The fact is, I was waiting for the coat, I’d made up my mind not to see you anymore in the old one.2 I do have my eccentricities—it distresses me to appear in company wearing a torn coat, God knows why; it’s as though I lose my self-respect. Forgive me for speaking about my self-respect in front of you, as if it were worth anything. Well, it isn’t, it couldn’t be less, I assure you; but I still feel it now and then.”
“Would you like some wine? No? But you’ll smoke a cigar, won’t you?”
Nagel rang for wine and cigars. Once they were brought, he started drinking heavily