by Knut Hamsun
“Tell me,” she said, “did you mean what you said about the naval officers?”
“Yes. Why?”
“Well, then we agree.”
“Why shouldn’t I mean it? I’m enthusiastic about them, I always have been; I admire their free life, their uniforms, their freshness and fearlessness. Most of them are also extremely agreeable people.”3
“But now let’s talk about you. What grievance do you have against Mr. Reinert, the deputy?”
“None at all. Against Mr. Reinert, did you say?”
“Last night you asked him to forgive you for something, and tonight you barely spoke a word with him. Are you in the habit of offending everybody and then apologizing for it?”
He laughed and looked down at the road.
“The truth is,” he replied, “that it was quite wrong of me to offend the deputy. But I’m quite certain that it will be all right again when I’ve had a chance to talk to him. I’m a bit hasty, a bit too plain-spoken, the whole thing was due to his jostling me as he passed through a door. A trifle, that is, a carelessness on his part; but like a fool I immediately jump up and call him names, shake my tankard under his nose and dent his hat. Then he left; as a gentleman he simply had to take himself off. But afterward I came to regret my conduct, and I’ve decided to make it up with him. Naturally, I may have had an excuse of sorts; I was all nerves that day, having had several disappointments. But nobody knows about that, you can’t tell people such things, so I’d better take the whole blame.”4
He had spoken without hesitation, in absolute sincerity, as if trying to be fair to both sides. Nor did his expression betray any trickery. But Dagny stopped short, looked him squarely in the face and said, astonished, “Oh, but—that’s not how it happened! I’ve heard a quite different story.”
“Miniman is lying!” Nagel cried, coloring up.
“Miniman? I didn’t hear it from Miniman. Why are you slandering yourself? I heard it from a man in Market Square, from the plasterer, he told me all about it. He saw it from beginning to end.”
Pause.
“Why do you have to slander yourself? That baffles me,” she went on, not taking her eyes off him. “I heard the story today and it made me so happy; that is, I thought you had acted in such an exceptionally beautiful way, in such a superior way. It suited you so well. If I hadn’t heard that story this morning, I would hardly have dared to walk here with you now. I’m telling you this in all sincerity.”
Pause.
Then he says, “And now you admire me because of this?”
“I don’t know,” she replied.
“Oh yes, you do.5
“Look,” he goes on, “this is a farce. You are an honest person, it goes against my grain to deceive you; I’ll tell you what the truth of the matter is.”
And he explains to her, brazenly and unblinkingly, how he calculated the whole thing.
“When I present this skirmish with the deputy in my own way, distorting the matter slightly, even slandering myself a little, I do so essentially—essentially—out of pure speculation. I’m trying to derive as much advantage from the affair as possible. You can see I’m quite candid with you. I take it for granted that someone or other will tell you the truth sometime anyway, and since I have from the start made myself look as bad as possible, I stand to gain by it, to win an immense prize. I acquire a tinge of greatness, of magnanimity, which scarcely has an equal—don’t you agree?—but it only comes about through a deception so common, so crude, that you’ll be shocked on learning about it. I feel bound to make this open confession, because you deserve that I treat you honestly. But what I’ll achieve by it is, of course, to drive you a thousand miles away from me, unfortunately.”
Her eyes still fastened on him, she pondered this man and his words, reflecting and trying to form an opinion. What was she to believe? What was he after with all his candor? Again she suddenly stops, claps her hands together and bursts into loud, ringing laughter.
“Oh, you’re the most impudent person I’ve ever known! Imagine saying such things, one nastier than the other, and all with a straight face, just to damage oneself! But you won’t get anywhere with it! The utter absurdity of it! What guarantee did you have that I would ever get to know the truth of the matter? Tell me that! No, stop, don’t say anything, it’ll only be one more lie. Phew, how mean of you, ha-ha-ha-ha-ha. But listen: once you have calculated that it will go this way or that, arranged everything and achieved what you wanted, why do you go and spoil it all afterward by confessing your deception, as you call it? Last night you did pretty much the same thing. I just don’t understand you. How can you calculate all the rest while you do not calculate that you will end up exposing your own trickery?”
Far from throwing up the game, he thought for a moment and replied, “But I do calculate it, oh yes, I calculate that too, as you’ll come to realize. When I confess, as I’m doing right now, I really don’t risk anything by it, not much anyway. You see, in the first place I can’t be sure that the person I confess to will believe me. You, for one, don’t believe me at this moment. And what’s the consequence? Well, the consequence is that I make a double profit; I profit enormously, my prize grows like an avalanche, my greatness becomes mountain-high. Yes. But in the second place, I would come away from the speculation with profit in any case, even if you believed me. You’re shaking your head? Oh, please, don’t; I’ve acted on this assumption often enough, I assure you, and I’ve always gained by it. If you really believed that my confession was truthful, you would at least be quite struck by my candor. You would say, Well, he has fooled me, but he tells me so afterward, and without any need to; his impudence is mysterious, he shuns absolutely nothing, he positively bars my way with his admissions! In short, I force you to stare hard at me, I excite your curiosity to occupy itself with me, I make you bridle. No more than a minute ago you said yourself, ‘I just don’t understand you!’ Now, you said this because you had tried to puzzle me out—which again tickles me, feels directly sweet to me, in fact. So, at all events I bring my profit home whether you believe me or not.”
Pause.
“And you want me to believe,” she said, “that you’ve planned all this trickery in advance? That you’ve met every contingency, taken all precautions? Ha-ha-ha! Nothing you say can ever surprise me again, from now on I’ll be prepared for anything. Well, enough of that, you could’ve come off far worse as a liar, you’re quite clever.”
He stuck stubbornly to his point, remarking that after this decision on her part his high-mindedness must seem like a mountain. And he wanted to thank her so much, heh-heh-heh; he had achieved everything he had intended. But it was much too kind of her, much too good-natured—
“All right,” she broke in, “that will do.”
But now it was he who came to a stop. “I tell you once again that I’ve fooled you!” he said, fixing his eyes on her.
They looked at each other for a moment; her heart began to beat faster and she turned rather pale. Why, she wondered, was it so important for him to make her believe the worst about himself? Glad and willing as he otherwise was to give way, in this respect he couldn’t be made to budge. What a fixed idea, what foolishness! Exasperated, she exclaimed, “I cannot figure out why you’re turning yourself inside out for me. After all, you promised to be good.”
Her anger was, indeed, genuine. Her brain was starting to reel from his obstinacy, which was so cocksure, so unshakable that it made her waver. She felt insulted to have become muddled like this. In her agitation she was tapping her hand with the parasol as she walked.
He was very miserable6 and made many helpless, droll remarks about it. At last she had to laugh again, giving him to understand that she didn’t take him seriously. He was simply impossible, would always remain impossible, and wanted to be impossible. Well, he could just please himself, if he thought it was such fun. But not another word about this fixed idea of his, not a word....
Pause.
“This is
where we first met,” he said. “Do you remember? I’ll never forget how elflike you looked as you fled. Like a wood nymph, a vision—. But now I’m going to tell you about an adventure I once had.”7
Actually, it was a dull adventure, it shouldn’t take very long to tell. He was sitting in his room in a little town—it was not in Norway, never mind where it was; in short, he was sitting in his room one mild fall evening. It was eight years ago, in 1883. He was sitting with his back to the door reading a book.
“Were you using a lamp?”
“Yes; it was pitch-dark outside. I was reading. Then someone is walking outside, I can distinctly hear footsteps on the stairs; I can also hear someone knocking on my door. ‘Come in!’ No one comes. I open the door—nobody outside. There isn’t a sign of anybody outside. I ring for the maid. Had anyone climbed the stairs? No, nobody had climbed the stairs. ‘Very well, good night!’ The maid leaves.
“I resume my reading. Then I feel a puff of air, a brush as of someone’s breath, and I hear a whisper, ‘Come!’ I look around—no one there. I go on reading, but get annoyed and say, ‘What the hell!’ The same moment I notice, next to me, a pale little man with a red beard and dry, stiff, bristly hair; the man is standing to my left. He winks at me and I wink back; we had never seen each other before, but we winked at one another. I close the book with my right hand, and the man moves toward the door and disappears; I follow him with my eyes and see him disappearing. I rise and walk up to the door, and again I hear the whisper, ‘Come!’ All right, I get into my coat, snap my galoshes on and step out. Then I thought, You should light a cigar, and I turn back to my room and light a cigar. I also pocket some cigars. God knows why, but I did, and went out again.
“It was pitch-black and I couldn’t see a thing, but I felt that the little man was beside me. Groping to get hold of him, I made myself obstinate and decided not to budge unless he gave me clearer instructions. But he was nowhere to be found. I even tried to wink at him here and there in the dark, but to no avail. ‘Never mind!’ I said, ‘I’m not going for your sake, I go for my own sake, I’m taking a walk; please note that I’m simply going for a stroll.’ I spoke in a loud voice so he would hear me. I walked for several hours and was already in the countryside, inside a forest; I felt branches and leaves wet with dew slapping my face. ‘Well!’ I said at last, pulling out my watch as if to look at it, ‘well, I’m going back home!’ But I didn’t go back home, I just couldn’t turn around, something was still driving me on. Anyway, I said to myself, the weather is so wonderful, you can keep this up for a night or two, you have plenty of time! I said this, though I was tired and thoroughly wet with dew. I lighted a fresh cigar; the little man was still with me, I could feel him blowing on me. And I walked on and on, in every possible direction, but never back toward town. My feet were beginning to ache, I was wet with dew up to my knees, and my face was smarting from being grazed by the wet branches. It may seem somewhat strange of me to be walking around here at this hour, I said to myself, but it’s a habit of mine, a custom from my childhood, to hunt up the biggest forests there are and walk in them at night. And I forged ahead with clenched teeth. Then the tower clock in town strikes twelve—one, two, three, four, up to twelve; I count the strokes. That familiar sound braced me up considerably, though I was annoyed that we hadn’t yet gotten farther away from town after all our tramping around. Well, the tower clock struck the hour, and just as the twelfth stroke fell, the little man again stands vividly before me, looking at me and laughing. I won’t forget it as long as I live, he was so vividly present; he had two front teeth missing and was holding his arms behind his back....”
“But how could you see him in the dark?”
“He was luminous. He shone with a strange light that seemed to be behind him, radiating from his back and making him transparent; even his clothes became as clear as day, his trousers were worn and much too short. I saw all this in a second. The sight struck me with amazement, and I instinctively closed my eyes and backed away half a step. When I looked up again, the man was gone—”
“Ah—!”
“There’s more. I had come to a tower. There was a tower in front of me, I had bumped into it; I saw it more and more clearly: a black octagonal tower, like the Tower of the Winds in Athens, if you’ve seen a picture of that. I’d never heard of any tower in that forest, but the fact remains: I stand before this tower, I hear another ‘Come!’ and I go in. The gate was left open behind me, which I felt as a relief.
“Inside, in the archway, I again meet the little man. A lamp was burning on one of the walls and I could see him clearly; he came toward me as if he’d been in there all along, laughing silently as he stood there staring at me. Looking into his eyes, I felt they were full of all the terrible things which those eyes had seen in his lifetime. Again he winked at me, but I didn’t wink back, and I retreated from him as he approached me. Suddenly I hear light footsteps behind me and, turning my head, I see a young woman come in.
“Well, I look at her and feel delighted. She had red hair and black eyes, but she was not well dressed and walked barefoot on the stone floor. Her arms were naked, and without any spots.
“She scrutinizes us both for a moment, then makes a deep bow to me and walks up to the little man. Without a word, she begins unbuttoning his clothes and feeling him all over, as if she were looking for something, and presently she pulls a burning light, a small flashing lantern, out of the lining of his cloak and hangs it on her finger. The lantern shines so brightly that it completely eclipses the lamp on the wall. The man stood perfectly still, laughing silently as before while being searched. ‘Good night!’ the woman said, pointing to a door, and the man, that terrible, mysterious half-animal creature, went away. I was left alone with the newcomer.
“She came toward me, made another deep bow to me and, without smiling or raising her voice, she said, ‘Where do you come from?’
“‘From town, fair maiden,’ I replied. ‘I’ve come all the way from town.’
“‘Stranger, forgive my father!’ she said all of a sudden. ‘Don’t do us any harm because of him; he’s sick, he’s mad, you saw his eyes, didn’t you?’
“‘Yes, I saw his eyes,’ I answered, ‘and I felt their power over me, I followed them.’
“‘Where did you meet him?’ she asked.
“‘At home, in my room,’ I replied. ‘I was reading when he came.’
“She shook her head and lowered her eyes.
“‘But don’t feel sad because of that, fair damsel,’ I said; ‘I was glad to take that walk, I didn’t neglect anything by doing so, and I don’t regret having met you. Just look, I’m happy and contented, why don’t you smile, too?’
“But she did not smile. She said, ‘Take off your shoes. You mustn’t leave tonight, I’ll dry your clothes for you.’
“I looked down at my clothes—they were soaking wet, and water was oozing out of my shoes. I did as I was told, pulled off my shoes and handed them to her. But when I had done so she blew out the lamp and said, ‘Come!’
“‘Wait a moment,’ I said, stopping her. ‘If I’m not going to sleep here, why did you make me take off my shoes right away?’
“‘That I won’t tell you,’ she replied.
“And she didn’t tell me.
“She led me through a door, into a dark room; there was a sound as if someone were sniffing about for us. I felt a soft hand on my lips, and the girl’s voice came, aloud, ‘It’s me, Father. The stranger is gone—gone.’
“But again I could hear how the deformed madman was nosing about for us.
“We walked up a flight of stairs, she holding my hand and neither of us speaking. We stepped into another vault, where you couldn’t see a ray of light; it was black night everywhere.
“‘Quiet!’ she whispered, ‘here’s my bed.’
“And I groped for the bed and found it.
“‘Now, take off the rest of your clothes,’ she whispered.
“I took them off
and handed them to her.
“‘Good night!’ she said.
“I tried to hold her back, begging her to stay: ‘Wait a moment, don’t go. Now I know why you made me take off my shoes downstairs. I’ll be very quiet, your father didn’t hear me—come!’
“But she didn’t come.
“‘Good night!’ she said again and left....”
Pause. Dagny had turned flaming red, her breast rose and fell, her nostrils quivered. “She left?” she asked quickly.
Pause.8
“Now my nightly adventure changes and becomes like a fairy tale, a rose-colored remembrance. Imagine a white, white night.... I was alone; the darkness around me was thick and heavy, like velvet. I was tired, my knees were shaking, and I felt rather dazed. What a scoundrel that madman was, to have led me around in circles in the wet grass for hours, led me like a dumb beast just by that look in his eyes and his ‘Come, come!’ The next time I would tear the lantern out of his hand and smash his chops with it! I was quite furious, lighted a cigar in my anger and went to bed. I lay there watching the light of my cigar for a while; then I hear the gate slam below, and all is quiet.
“Ten minutes went by. Keep in mind: I’m lying wide awake in bed smoking a cigar. All at once the vault is filled with a soughing noise, as though vents were opened all over the ceiling. Getting up on my elbow to put out my cigar, I stare about me in the darkness without discovering anything. I lie down again and listen; I seem to hear some sounds far away, a marvelous thousand-voiced music from somewhere outside me, from way up under the sky perhaps, thousand-voiced and soft. The music goes on and on, coming closer and closer until at last it surges above me, over the roof of the tower. Again I get up on my elbow. Then I experience something that even today intoxicates me with a mysterious, supernatural pleasure whenever I think of it: a stream of tiny little dazzling creatures suddenly descends upon me; they are perfectly white, angels, myriads of little angels streaming down from on high like an oblique wall of light. They fill the vault, there may be as many as a million; they float about the room in a wave-like motion, from floor to ceiling, and they sing, they sing, and they are perfectly naked and white. My heart stands still, there are angels everywhere, I listen and hear their song; they brush my eyelids and settle in my hair, and the entire vault is filled with the fragrance from their small open mouths.
