"Yes, I know you better than her," he answered, and went on wiping.
Fru Bang grew ashen gray. "Hans!" she exclaimed, and burst into tears.
Then she hastened into the next room. Magnhild understood this as little as what had previously occurred. Indeed, it was not until months had elapsed that one day, as she was wandering alone through the wintry slush of a country road, with her thoughts a thousand miles away from the lady and the whole scene, she suddenly stood still: the full meaning of Fru Bang"s behavior rushed over her.
Tande had risen to his feet, for Magnhild had drawn back in order not to accept any further a.s.sistance from him. That _she_ could act so, and that _his_ name was "Hans," was all that was clear to her at this moment. Tande slowly paced the floor. He was very pale; at least so it seemed to Magnhild, although she could not see very well, for it was beginning to grow dark. Should she follow the lady, or withdraw altogether? Magda was in the kitchen; she finally concluded to go to her. And out there she helped the little girl fill a dish with preserves. From the chamber which adjoined the kitchen she soon heard a low conversation and sobs. When Magda and she went into the sitting-room with the dish, Tande was not there. They waited so long for the evening meal that Magda fell asleep and Magnhild had to go home.
Not long afterward she heard Tande, too, come home. The next forenoon she sang with him; he appeared quite as usual. In the afternoon she met the lady by chance in the street, and she made sundry criticisms on Magnhild"s improvising, which she had heard, a little while before, through the open window; at the same time she straightened Magnhild"s hat, which was not put on exactly right.
Skarlie came home again. He told Magnhild that on a trip to Bergen he had traveled with Captain Bang.
There was a person on the steamer, he said, who knew about Fru Bang"s relations with Tande and spoke of them. Magnhild had strong suspicions that Skarlie himself was that person; for after he had been home the last time she had heard allusions to these relations from Tande"s woman-servant, the sailor"s wife, and several others.
"The captain is good-natured," said Skarlie; "he considers himself unworthy to be loved by so much soul and brilliancy. He was, therefore, rejoiced that his wife had at last found an equal."
"You seem delighted," Magnhild replied, "you appear more disgusting than you"--She was just going to Fru Bang"s, and withdrew without deigning to complete the sentence.
She was to accompany Magda to an exhibition to be given by an old Swedish juggler, with his wife and child, on the square some distance behind the house.
When Magnhild came in, the lady met her all dressed; she was going to the show, too. The explanation of this speedily followed; that is to say, Tande appeared to accompany them. He reported that the general had arrived.
Then they set off, Magda and Magnhild, the lady and Tande. A crowd of people had a.s.sembled, most of them outside of the inclosure, where they could pay what they pleased. Within the inclosure there were "reserved"
places, that is, benches, and to these the lady and her party repaired.
The old juggler was already in his place, where, with the aid of his wife, he was preparing for the show. He bore a ludicrous resemblance to Skarlie, was bald, had a snub-nose, was large and strong-looking, and his face was not devoid of humor. Scarcely had Magnhild made this discovery than she heard Magda whisper to her mother,--
"Mamma, he looks just like Magnhild"s husband."
The lady smiled. At the same moment the old juggler stepped up to them.
Among the reserved places was one "especially reserved," a bench, that is, with a back to it. The old man was quite hoa.r.s.e, and his language, so far as it could be comprehended, was such a droll mixture of Swedish and Norwegian, that those nearest laughed; and the clown-like courtesy of his manner also created a laugh, even among those at a distance. But so soon as the laugh began Tande stepped back a few paces. The lady went forward, and Magda and Magnhild followed.
The old juggler had a wife much younger than himself, a black-haired, hollow-eyed, sorrowfully thin person, who had the general appearance of having been unfortunate. There soon came skipping out of the tent a little lad with curly hair, sprightly eyes, and an air of refinement over face and form which he did not get from his mother, still less from the old clown. He was dressed as a jester, but was evidently anything else. He paused at his mother"s side and asked her some question. He spoke in French. The lady, who was annoyed by Tande"s foolish shyness, addressed the boy in his native tongue. The little fellow came forward, but merely to pause at a short distance and stand viewing her with an expression of dignified inquiry. This amused her, and taking out her purse she handed him quite a large coin.
"_Merci, Madame!_" said he, making a low bow.
"Kiss the lady"s hand!" commanded the old man. The boy obeyed, with shy haste. Then he ran back to the tent, whence was heard the barking of dogs.
Suddenly there arose a commotion in the crowd behind those who were seated. A woman with a child three or four years old in her arms was trying to push her way forward. She could not stand and hold the child forever, she said; she wanted to sit down. She was quite as good as any one else present.
But there seemed to be no seat vacant except on the front bench. So to the front bench she went, to the great sport of the mult.i.tude; for she was well known. She was no other than "Machine Martha." Two years before she had come to the Point with a child and a large and a small sewing-machine, with which she supported herself, for she was capable.
She had deserted her husband with an itinerant tradesman, who dealt, among other things, in sewing-machines. He had deceived her. Since then she had fallen into wretched habits of drunkenness, and had become thoroughly degraded. Her face was rough and her hair disheveled.
Nevertheless, she still seemed to have sufficient energy left to raise a storm. She seated herself directly beside the lady, who shrank away, for Martha smelled strongly of beer.
The old juggler had noticed the involuntary movement the lady made. He was on hand at once, and, in a hoa.r.s.e, rough voice, ordered Martha to take another place.
She must have been abashed herself by all the silk she had come into contact with, for she now got up and moved away.
As she was watching her Magnhild descried Skarlie. At his side Martha paused. Soon she came forward again. "I will sit there, I tell you,"
said she, and resuming her seat she placed the child on the bench beside her.
The old juggler left his preparations. He had grown angry. "You cursed"--here he must have remembered the fine company he was in, for he continued: "It costs money to sit here." He spoke Swedish.
"Here is a mark!" said the woman, holding out the coin as she spoke.
"Very well," said he, hoa.r.s.ely; "but sit on another bench. Will the ladies and gentlemen please move closer together?" he begged of those on the nearest benches. Whether his directions were followed or not, Martha did not stir.
"The devil a bit will I move," said she.
"Let her stay where she is," whispered the lady.
"Not for any sum," replied the gallant old man. "These seats are reserved for the highest aristocracy," and he took hold of the child.
But now Martha sprang up like one possessed.
"You Swedish troll!" cried she, "will you let my child alone?"
The crowd burst into stormy shouts of laughter, and encouraged thereby, she continued: "Highest aristocracy? Pshaw! She is a--she, as well as I." The word shall remain unwritten; but Martha looked significantly at the lady. A volley of laughter, and then, as at the word of command, the silence of the grave.
The lady had started up, proud and beautiful. She looked around for her escort. She wished to leave. Tande was standing not very far off, with a couple of travelers, who had begged to be presented to the well-known composer. The lady"s flaming eyes met his. He gazed back at her intently. Every one was looking at him. But no one could penetrate his gaze, any farther than they could have penetrated a polished steel ball.
And yet, however unfathomable those eyes, there was one thing they said plainly enough: "Madame, I know you not!" And his refined, arched brow, his delicately-chiseled nose, his tightly-compressed lips, his hollow cheeks, aye, the glittering diamond studs in his shirt, the aristocratic elegance of his attire, all said, "Touch me not!" Over his eyes were drawn veil after veil.
It was all the work of a moment. The lady turned to Magnhild as though to call on her to bear witness. And yet no! There was no one in the world beside him and herself who could know how great was the offering that now was burnt, how great the love he now flung from him.
Again the lady turned toward him a look, as brief as a flash of lightning. What indignation, what a great cry of anguish, what a swarm of memories, what pride, what contempt, did she not hurl at him.
Magnhild received the quivering remains as she turned to her to--aye, what should she do now? Her face suddenly betrayed the most piteous forlornness, and at the same time a touching appeal, as that of a child.
The tears rolled down her cheeks. Magnhild, entering completely into her mood, impulsively held out her hand. The lady grasped it and pressed it so vehemently that Magnhild had to exercise all her self-control not to scream aloud. The poor, wounded, repulsed woman gathered together all her inward strength through this outward expenditure of force, and thus she became uplifted. For at the same time she smiled. And lo! across that part of the square where the tight rope was stretched and where spectators were forbidden to intrude, there strode at this moment two officers, seen by all; but how could admittance be refused to a general"s cap? And such a one was worn by the all-powerful individual who, with long strides and wide-swinging arms, as though he were himself both commander and army, advanced with his adjutant on the left flank.
Already from afar he saluted, in the most respectful manner, his captain"s beautiful wife. She hastened to meet her deliverer. On the general"s arm she was led back to her place, while he himself took a seat by her side. The adjutant fell to Magnhild"s lot, after the lady had introduced them. The general stole many a glance at Magnhild, and the adjutant was all courtesy. This was almost the only thing Magnhild noticed. She was quivering in every nerve.
The lady sparkled with wit, sprightliness, beauty. But every now and then she would seize Magnhild"s hand, and press it with remorseless energy. She strengthened herself in the reality of the moment. The bodily pain this caused Magnhild corresponded with the spiritual pain she experienced. She heard the adjutant at her side and Magda cry out in wonder. She, too, now saw several b.a.l.l.s glittering in the air, and she saw a large one weighed by a spectator, and then cast into the air by the old athlete, as though it were a play ball, and caught again on his arm, shoulder, or breast; but at the same time she heard the lady tell the general that she would leave the next morning under his escort; she had been waiting for him since her husband could not come.
Magnhild well knew that all was now over: but would the end come as soon as the next morning? A loud outcry, coming chiefly from the voices of boys, cut through her pain. The old man had thrown the large ball into the air with both hands, and then quite a small ball, and continued to keep them in rapid motion for some time. To Magnhild the small ball represented herself; and the large one--? It was not in order to search for an adequate symbol, nor did she apply it, but everything became symbolic. The perpetual glitter of the b.a.l.l.s in the air represented to her the icy glance which had just made her tremble.
"The old man is extraordinarily strong," said the adjutant. "I once saw a man in Venice with another man standing on his shoulders, who stooped and raised a third, and he worked his way up and stood on the second man"s shoulders, and then, only think, they drew up a fourth, who managed to stand on the shoulders of the third. The first man walked about on the ground, carrying with him the other three, while the upper man played with b.a.l.l.s."
"Were I to die at this moment," the lady was saying on the other side, "and the soul could forget everything here and have imparted to it a new series of wonderful problems, infinite vistas, so that enraptured discovery after discovery might be made--what could there be more glorious?"
"My imagination does not carry me so far," came in the general"s firm voice. "I am ready to stake my life that to live and die in the fulfillment of one"s duty is the greatest happiness a healthily organized human being can feel. The rest is, after all, of little consequence."
Here Magnhild received a feverish pressure of the hand.
"Applaud, ladies and gentlemen, applaud," said the clown, hoa.r.s.ely and good-naturedly. This raised a laugh, but no one stirred.
"Why do not the dogs come out?" asked Magda, who heard the animals impatiently barking in the tent.
About the mountain peaks clouds crisped and curled; a gust of wind betokened a change in the weather; the fjord darkened under the influence of a swiftly rising squall. There was something infinitely sublime in the landscape; something awe-inspiring.
It began to grow cold. The people in the background felt hushed and gloomy. Now the clown"s wife came forward; _she_ was to go on the tight rope. The haggard, faded beauty wore a dress cut very low in the neck, and with short sleeves. The lady shivered as she looked at her, complained of cold feet, and rose. The general, the adjutant, and consequently Magnhild also, did the same; Magda alone, with looks of entreaty, kept her seat; she was waiting for the dogs. A single glance from her mother sufficed; she got up without a word.
They pa.s.sed out the same way the officers had come in; not one of them looked back. The lady laughed her most ringing laugh; its pleasant tones rolled back over the a.s.sembled mult.i.tude. Every one gazed after her. The general walked rapidly, so that her light, easy movements appeared well at his side. The general"s height invested hers with a peculiar charm; his stiff, martial bearing and figure heightened the effect of her pliant grace. The contrasts of color in her attire, the feather in her hat, an impression from her laughter, affected one man in the audience as he might have been affected by withdrawing music.