Mysteries (34 page)

A full minute passed before people collected themselves; finally they burst into a wild applause, which went on and on, mingled with cries of bravo—some jumped on their seats and shouted bravo. The organist accepted his violin with a deep bow, patted it with his hand and put it gently down; then he took Nagel’s hand and thanked him repeatedly. In the midst of the general pandemonium, Dr. Stenersen came rushing up, grabbed Nagel by the arm and exclaimed, “God damn it, man, you do play, despite everything—despite everything!”

Miss Andresen, sitting next to him, was still looking at him, quite flabbergasted. “Why, you told us you couldn’t play!” she said.

“And I can’t,” he replied, “not much, nothing worth speaking of, and I frankly admit it. If you only knew how false, how little authentic, it was! But I made it look very authentic, didn’t I? Heh-heh-heh, one has to make the world sit up and take notice, one mustn’t cramp one’s style! ... But shouldn’t we get back to our drinks? And, please, ask Miss Gude to join us!”

They returned to their tables. Everyone was still taken up with this mysterious person who had so dazzled them; even Mr. Reinert paused for a moment and told him in passing, “I want to thank you for being so kind as to invite me to a bachelor party at your place the other evening. I couldn’t come, I was engaged; but I’m very grateful, it was awfully kind of you.”

“But why did you make those terrible strokes at the end?” Miss Andresen asked.

“I don’t really know,” Nagel replied. “But that’s how it turned out. I wanted to catch a devil by the tail.”

Dr. Stenersen again came up to offer his compliments, and once more Nagel replied that his playing was sheer farce, humbug, full of cheap effects; if they only knew how mediocre it was! The double fingerings were false, oh yes, most of them were a bit off key, he was quite aware of it but couldn’t do any better-he’ d been out of practice for so long.
²

More and more stragglers came by their table; they sat there to the very last minute, while people were streaming out. By the time they got up to go, the lights in the hall were being turned out. It was two-thirty in the morning.

Nagel leaned over to Martha and whispered, “I’ll have to walk you home, don’t you think? I want to tell you something.”

He hastened to pay his bill, said good night to Miss Andresen and followed Martha out. She had no coat, only an umbrella, which she tried to hide because it was so full of holes. As they left, Nagel noticed that Miniman was watching them with a pained, lingering look in his eyes. His face was even more twisted than usual.
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They went straight to Martha’s house. Nagel peered about him, but there was no one to be seen. “If you let me come in for a moment, I would be very grateful,” he said.

She hesitated. “It’s so late,” she said.

“You know I’ve promised never to hurt you in any way. I
must
talk to you.”

She opened the door.

Once inside, she lighted a candle, while he again hung something before the window. He remained silent until she was ready for him, whereupon he said, “So, did you enjoy yourself this evening?”

“Yes, thank you!” she replied.

“Well, that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about. Come and sit a little closer. You mustn’t be afraid of me, will you promise me that? Good, let’s shake hands on it.”

She gave him her hand, and he didn’t relinquish it.

“Now, you don’t believe I’m a liar, do you, that I would lie to you? I want to tell you something. So you don’t believe I would lie to you?”

“No.”

“Good. I’ll explain it all to you eventually, don’t worry.... But how firm is your belief in me? I mean, how far are you prepared to go in your belief? Rubbish! What nonsense I’m talking! But, you see, it is a rather difficult matter. Would you believe me, for instance, if I told you I’m very—that I’m really very fond of you? Well, you must’ve noticed that yourself. But what if I went a bit further, I mean ... In short, I simply want to ask you to be my wife. Yes, my wife, there I’ve said it. Not just my sweetheart, but my wife.... God help me, how you take on! No, no, let me keep your hand; I can explain myself far better than that, it’ll all be perfectly clear. Now, consider the possibility that you’re hearing correctly: that I’m simply, and without any beating around the bush, proposing to you, and also that I really mean every word I say—consider this possibility first and then allow me to continue. Good! How old are you? O-o-h, I wasn’t going to ask about that; but I’m twenty-nine myself, well beyond the age of fluttering frivolity. You may be four, five, six years older, that doesn’t mean—”

“I’m twelve years older,” she says.

“Twelve years older!” he exclaims, delighted that she’s paying attention, that she isn’t losing her head completely. “So, you’re twelve years older, that’s splendid, it’s simply grand! You don’t think, do you, that twelve years is an obstacle? Why, you must be mad! But however that may be—even if you were three times twelve years older, what difference would it make, as long as I’m in love with you and mean every word that passes my lips at this moment? I’ve been thinking about this for a long time, well, not that long, but for several days anyway, that’s the truth; for heaven’s sake, believe me, I implore you. I’ve been thinking about it for a number of days and spent sleepless nights because of it. You have such strange eyes, I was drawn by them from the moment I saw you; I could be drawn to the world’s end by a pair of eyes. Once an old man, alas, dragged me around a forest for half a night by his eyes alone. The man was possessed—. Well, that’s another story. But your eyes have affected me. Do you remember the day you were standing here in the middle of the room watching me as I passed by? You didn’t turn your head, you only followed me with your eyes, I’ll never forget it. But once I met you and had a chance to talk to you, I was also moved by your smile. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anybody laugh with such heartfelt warmth as you; but that’s something you don’t know about, which is just the wonder and the beauty of it, that you don’t know about it.... Oh, what frightful drivel I’m talking. I can hear it well enough, but I have the feeling that I must talk continuously, otherwise you won’t believe me, and that makes me confused.
⁴
If only you didn’t sit there like that, about to take off—I mean, ready to get up and go—I would do better right away. Please let me hold your hand again, then I’ll be sure to speak more lucidly. There, thank you! ... You see, all I really want from you is what I’ve just told you, nothing more; I have no ulterior motives. So what have I said that you find so disconcerting? You can’t fathom how I came up with this crazy idea, you can’t understand that I—that I—really want to, right? And you don’t think it possible, that’s what you’re thinking, isn’t it?”

“Yes—. Oh, for heaven’s sake, stop it!”

“But look: I really don’t deserve that you should still suspect me of putting on an act—”

“No,” Martha says, suddenly remorseful, “I don’t suspect you of anything; still, it’s impossible.”

“Why is it impossible? Are you bound to someone else?”

“No, no.”

“Not at all? Because if you’re bound to someone else—let’s say, just to mention a name, to Miniman, for example—”

“No!” she cries out, giving his hand a palpable squeeze.

“No? All right, so nothing stands in our way as far as that goes. Let me continue. You mustn’t think I’m so far above you that it would be impossible for that reason. I won’t keep anything from you, in many respects I’m not as I ought to be; well, you heard yourself what Miss Kielland said this evening. You have probably also heard from other people in town what a mean creature I am in more ways than one. Occasionally they may do me an injustice, but in the main they’re right; as a man, I have grave faults. So, in fact, you with your pure heart and sensitive, childlike mind are infinitely above me, instead of the other way around. But I would promise always to be kind to you, it wouldn’t be difficult, believe me; my greatest joy would be to make you happy.... Something else is that perhaps you’re afraid of what the town might say? Well, first of all, the town would simply have to accept your becoming my wife, in its own church, if you like. But secondly, the town has already got enough to talk about; it has scarcely gone entirely unnoticed that we’ve met a few times before, and that I enjoyed your company at the bazaar this evening. So as far as that goes it won’t get much worse than it is already. And good heavens, what does it matter? You should feel blithely indifferent to what the world thinks.... You’re crying? Oh dear, you feel hurt that I’ve exposed you to gossip this evening, don’t you?”

“No, it’s not that.”

“What is it, then?”

She doesn’t answer.

Something occurs to him and he asks, “Do you feel I’m treating you badly? Tell me, you didn’t drink that much champagne, did you? I don’t believe you even had two glasses. Can you possibly have gotten the impression that I mean to take advantage of you, get you to give in more quickly, now that you’ve had a mouthful of wine? Is that why you’re crying?”

“No, not at all.”

“So why are you crying?”

“I don’t know.”

“At least, you don’t believe I mean to betray you in any way. By God in heaven, I’m honest through and through, believe me!”

“I do believe you, but I don’t understand, it upsets me so. You just cannot want—cannot want it.”

Oh yes, he did want it! And he explains more fully, holding her delicate little hand in his and hearing the rain beat against the windowpanes. Speaking very softly, he humors her, at times indulging in the most inane, childish prattle. Oh, they would be sure to make a go of it!
⁵
They would go away, far away, God knows where; but they would steal off so that nobody knew what had become of them. That’s what they would do, right? Then they would buy a little cottage and a plot of ground in the forest, a lovely forest someplace or other; it would be their very own and they would call it Eden, and he would cultivate it—oh, would he cultivate it! But he might get to feel a little sad from time to time; dear, yes, it was quite possible. Something might cross his mind, a recollection, some bitter experience or other that came back to him perhaps; how easily that could happen! But then she would be patient with him, wouldn’t she? Anyway, he wasn’t going to let her notice it very much, never, that he promised. He would only want to be left alone to grapple with it, or he would withdraw, go farther into the woods, and return in a little while. Oh, but no harsh word would ever be uttered in their cottage! And they would trim it with the most beautiful wildflowers and moss and stones they could find; the floor would be sprinkled with juniper he’d brought home himself. And at Christmas they would always remember to put out a sheaf for the birds. Just think how they would while the time away and how happy they would be! They must always be together; they would run in and out and never be parted. In the summer they would go on long hikes and observe the trembling grass and trees, and how they grew year after year. And how helpful they would be to strangers and wayfarers who might be passing by, yes indeed! They had to have some cattle, a couple of large, sleek animals which they would train to eat out of their hands, and while he dug and chopped and tilled the ground, she would tend the animals....

“Yes,” Martha replied. She said it spontaneously, and he heard it.

Further, they had to take a day or two off every week, he went on. They would go hunting and fishing together, the two of them, hand in hand, she in a short belted dress, he in a tunic and buckled shoes. They would sing and talk and shout to make the whole forest re-echo with their voices! “Don’t you agree, hand in hand?”

“Yes,” she said again.

Little by little she was carried away, he described it all so clearly to her; he had worked everything out in his head, down to the minutest detail. He even mentioned how important it was to find a spot with easy access to water. But he would see to that, oh sure, he would see to everything; she simply had to trust him. Oh, with his strength he could certainly set up this home in the middle of the dense forest, he had a pair of fists ike—well, she could see for herself! ... And smiling, he measured her delicate child’s hand against his own.

She let him do whatever he wanted with her; she sat still and looked at him even when he patted her on the cheek. Then he asked her straight out, with his lips close to her ear, if she dared, and if she wanted to. And, indeed, she answered yes, a pensive, dreamy answer in a mere whisper. But a little later she began to waver: No, when she thought it over, it just wasn’t possible. How could he really want it! What was she, anyway!

And again he convinced her that he wanted it, wanted it, in fact, as much as he could ever want anything. She wasn’t going to suffer privation even if things didn’t pan out for a while; he would toil for them both, she need have no fear. He talked for a whole hour, shaking her resistance bit by bit. Twice during this hour she refused to go along, covering her face with her hands and crying, “No, no!” And yet she gave in to him; studying his face, she understood that he didn’t merely want to win a momentary victory. In God’s name, then, since he wanted it that way! She was conquered, it was no use to fight him anymore. In the end she gave him a clear yes.

The candle was burning itself out in the empty bottle; they were still sitting on their separate chairs, holding each other’s hands and talking together. She was quite overcome by emotion, frequently getting tears in her eyes, but still smiling.

“To get back to Miniman,” he said, “I’m quite certain he was jealous at the bazaar.”

“Yes, maybe he was,” she replied. “But it can’t be helped.”

“No, it can’t be helped, can it? ... Look, I would love to do something nice for you this evening, what might it be? Something to make you clap your hands to your breast with delight! Name it, ask me for something or other! Alas, you’re too kind, my little friend, you never ask for anything! Well, Martha, remember what I’m telling you: I’m going to protect you, I’ll try to anticipate your wishes and to take care of you till my dying breath. Please, remember that, won’t you! You will never have to say that I’ve forgotten my promise.”