Peter Oiland determined nevertheless to make an attempt. He would say nothing for the present as to the details of his plan; he had an idea, and hoped it might succeed.
Meantime, Emilie Rantzau continued her triumphant progress; she was leading society in Strandvik. Her dresses, her manner, were a standing topic among the ladies of the town, who hated and admired her at once. She on her part was happy enough, but at a loss to understand why Nickelsen was so unpardonably tardy in making his declaration; still, it could only be a question of time; she felt safe enough.
One day there came a letter from Christiania, which in a flash threw Strandvik and its entire society into the background. It ran as follows:
"MY DEAR EMILIE RANTZAU,--Years, many years, have pa.s.sed since we last met. Do you remember a fair young man whom you often saw at Mrs. Moller"s, when you were a boarder there as a girl? But there were so many of us young students who were all more or less in love with you at that time, and I hardly dare suppose you would have any special recollection of my humble self. It would be only natural that you should have forgotten. But I have never, never forgotten Emilie Storm, as you were then.
"I was poor and unknown at the time, and poor, alas, I remained for many years, until at last I had no longer any hope of meeting you again, as I had dreamed--yet I have followed your career, and kept myself informed as to your circ.u.mstances. I learned of your husband"s death, and that you are now obliged to earn your livelihood as housekeeper to an old bachelor in a little out-of-the-way place.
"To think that you--you, Emilie, who have never for a single day been absent from my thoughts, should be wasting away your life among the yokels of an insignificant seaport town.
"And I--I am alone and lonely now, back at home after many long years of toil in the great cities of Europe, and the fortune I have made is useless to me. For money cannot purchase happiness, or bring back the dreams of youth.
"Emilie, shall we try to come together? Shall we renew our old acquaintance, and see if we can find that mutual sympathy which binds one life to another?
"If you are willing, then let us meet. My name you need not know.
I should prefer you to find me as I am now, not as the ardent youth I was when first we met, but as a man, sobered by trials and experience, who has nevertheless maintained the ideals of early days unscathed throughout the battle of life. You may reply to
"ABRAHAM HERTZ.
"POSTE RESTANTE, CHRISTIANIA."
She read the letter through a dozen times at least, and sat puzzling her brains to try and recollect a "fair young man," who had been one of her admirers at Mrs. Moller"s. She could make nothing of it. She had been only seventeen at the time, and had had such a host of admirers before and since; it was too much to expect that she should recollect them all.
But was it meant in earnest now, or was the whole thing a vulgar hoax?
This lawyer of hers was but a poor creature after all; red-nosed, almost a dotard--ugh! To think of getting away from it all and go to Christiania, perhaps Paris, Vienna, Rome--away! And then to be rich--rich! Poverty was a dreadful thing to face, dreadful even to think of. Was she to grow old, and ugly, and poor?
"MR. ABRAHAM HERTZ,--Your kind letter received. I set great store by old friends, and should therefore be glad to renew the acquaintance, but must confess that I am unwilling to enter upon a correspondence with one who remains anonymous. How can I be sure that I am not exposing myself to a mischievous practical joke?
"I should be glad of a photo, in order if possible to identify the "fair young man."
"E. R."
Two days later came a registered letter.
"MRS. EMILIE RANTZAU,--How could you ever think I was joking?
However, that you may no longer doubt for a moment the seriousness of my intentions, I enclose 50, with the request that you will come to Christiania as soon as possible. If you will put up at Mrs. Irving"s _pension_, I will meet you there.
"Enclosed is a photo of the fair young man, but for Heaven"s sake do not imagine that it resembles your admirer now, with his eight-and-forty years.--Au revoir.
"A. H."
Emilie had never handled a 50 note before in her life. She spread it out on the table, smoothing it with her fingers so tenderly that Old Nick, had he seen her, would have been frantic with jealousy. She even kissed the portrait of His Majesty in the corners before hiding the note away in her breast.
Old Nick was utterly astonished when Mrs. Rantzau informed him that she found herself compelled to leave Strandvik, the air, unfortunately, did not agree with her. She seemed, too, remarkably cool in her manner towards him; her customary smile had faded somewhat, and her ardent eyes, that had been wont to focus themselves upon his own, seemed now to flicker vaguely in no particular direction.
Mrs. Rantzau"s sudden departure occasioned much comment. Her most faithful admirer, Consul Jansen, turned up with a big bunch of flowers, and hoisted the flag in his garden at half-mast.
Old Nick, of course, went down to the quay to see her off. As a matter of fact, however, he was now beginning to find the situation rather humorous--a symptom which Thor Smith diagnosed as indicating that his old friend was well on the way at least to convalescence, if not to complete recovery.
Mrs. Rantzau stood on the upper deck in her dark blue dress, with the little toque coquettishly aslant on her head. She waved her handkerchief, and Consul Jansen cried: "_Adieu, au revoir!_"
"Merci, Monsieur le Consul; je regrette que vous soyez oblige de rester ici parmi ces dromadaires-ci." That was Emilie Rantzau"s farewell to Strandvik. As for Old Nick, she did not even grant him so much as a nod.
On the way home he encountered a procession of urchins, ragged, bare-legged and boisterous, waving j.a.panese fans and Chinese parasols--properties which he seemed to recognise.
"Here, you boys, where did you get those things from?"
"Mr. Nachmann gave us them. He threw them out of Nickelsen"s window,"
cried the youngsters in chorus.
"H"m," grunted Old Nick. "Very funny...." and he stalked on his way.
Nachmann and Prois were busy moving the sofas back against the wall, and restoring the card-table to its former place.
"Here, what do you think you"re doing?" shouted Nickelsen from the doorway.
"Salvage Corps, getting ready for a little party," said the Warden dryly.
That evening Old Nick"s little circle of friends a.s.sembled at his house. Cards and the tray of gla.s.ses were laid out as in the old days. The host, in his old brown dressing-gown, sat with his slippered feet up on the table, and puffed at his long-stemmed pipe.
"Well, you may think yourself lucky to have got out of that as you did," said Nachmann, touching Old Nick"s gla.s.s with his own.
"I can"t think what made her go off like that, all of a sudden," said Old Nick, almost wistfully.
"You can thank Peter Oiland for that," said Thor Smith.
"Peter Oiland?"
"Yes, it was he that got her away. What about those letters you sent her, Oiland? What did you say in them?"
"H"m," said Oiland, with a serious air. "My dear friends, it is ill jesting with affairs of the heart. Emilie Rantzau"s secret is locked for ever in my breast." And he gazed reflectively into his gla.s.s as he stirred his grog.
"How did you manage to get them sent from Christiania?"
"Posted them myself when I was in with Sukkestad, my respected father-in-law to be, buying furniture."
"But the photo, and Mrs. Moller"s, and all that?"
"Well, the photo was one Maria Sukkestad gave me last year of her beloved spouse--taken years ago, when they were engaged."
"Oh, Peter, you"re a marvel! But suppose she"d recognised him?"
"I hardly think she could," said Oiland dryly.
"But how did you know about Mrs. Moller"s?"
"She told Mrs. Jansen she"d stayed there, and I heard about it after.