Married Part 20

Off Portsmouth the captain received the following letter from his wife:

"Dear old Pal,

"It's horrible here without you, believe me. I have had a lot of worry, too, for little Alice has got a new tooth. The doctor said it was unusually early, which was a sign of (but I'm not going to tell you that). Bob's boots fit him very well and he is very proud of them.

"You say in your letter that I ought to find a friend of my own s.e.x.

Well, I have found one, or, rather, she has found me. Her name is Ottilia Sandegren, and she was educated at the seminary. She is rather grave and takes life very seriously, therefore you need not be afraid, Pal, that your Topmast will be led astray. Moreover, she is religious.

We really ought to take religion a little more seriously, both of us.

She is a splendid woman. She has just arrived and sends you her kind regards.

"Your Gurli."

The captain was not overpleased with this letter. It was too short and not half as bright as her letters generally were. Seminary, religion, grave, Ottilia: Ottilia twice! And then Gurli! Why not Gulla as before? H'm!

A week later he received a second letter from Bordeaux, a letter which was accompanied by a book, sent under separate cover.

"Dear William!"--"H'm! William! No longer Pal!"--"Life is a struggle"--"What the deuce does she mean? What has that to do with us?"--"from beginning to end. Gently as a river in Kedron"--"Kedron!

she's quoting the Bible!"--"our life has glided along. Like sleepwalkers we have been walking on the edge of precipices without being aware of them"--"The seminary, oh! the seminary!"--"Suddenly we find ourselves face to face with the ethical"--"The ethical? Ablative!"--"a.s.serting itself in its higher potencies!"--"Potencies?"--"Now that I am awake from my long sleep and ask myself: has our marriage been a marriage in the true sense of the word? I must admit with shame and remorse that this has not been the case. For love is of divine origin. (St. Matthew xi. 22, 24.)"

The captain had to mix himself a gla.s.s of rum and water before he felt able to continue his reading.--"How earthly, how material our love has been! Have our souls lived in that harmony of which Plato speaks?

(Phaidon, Book vi. Chap. ii. Par. 9). Our answer is bound to be in the negative. What have I been to you? A housekeeper and, oh! The disgrace!

your mistress! Have our souls understood one another? Again we are bound to answer 'No.'"--"To h.e.l.l with all Ottilias and seminaries!

Has she been my housekeeper? She has been my wife and the mother of my children!"--"Read the book I have sent you! It will answer all your questions. It voices that which for centuries has lain hidden in the hearts of all women! Read it, and then tell me if you think that our union has been a true marriage. Your Gurli."

His presentiment of evil had not deceived him. The captain was beside himself; he could not understand what had happened to his wife. It was worse than religious hypocrisy.

He tore off the wrapper and read on the t.i.tle page of a book in a paper cover: _Et Dukkehjem af Henrik Ibsen_. A Doll's House? Well, and--? His home had been a charming doll's house; his wife had been his little doll and he had been her big doll. They had danced along the stony path of life and had been happy. What more did they want?

What was wrong? He must read the book at once and find out.

He finished it in three hours. His brain reeled. How did it concern him and his wife? Had they forged bills? No! Hadn't they loved one another? Of course they had!

He locked himself into his cabin and read the book a second time; he underlined pa.s.sages in red and blue, and when the dawn broke, he took "A well-meant little ablative on the play _A Doll's House_, written by the old Pal on board the Vanadis in the Atlantic off Bordeaux. (Lat. 45 Long. 16.)

"1. She married him because he was in love with her and that was a deuced clever thing to do. For if she had waited until she had fallen in love with someone, it might have happened that _he_ would not have fallen in love with her, and then there would have been the devil to pay. For it happens very rarely that both parties are equally in love."

"2. She forges a bill. That was foolish, but it is not true that it was done for the husband's sake only, for she has never loved him; it would have been the truth if she had said that she had done it for him, herself and the children. Is that clear?"

"3. That he wants to embrace her after the ball is only a proof of his love for her, and there is no wrong in that; but it should not be done on the stage. "_Il y a des choses qui se font mais que ne se disent point_,' as the French say, Moreover, if the poet had been fair, he would also save shown an opposite case. '_La pet.i.te chienne veut, mais le grand chien ne veut pas_,' says Ollendorf. (Vide the long boat at Dalaro.)"

"4. That she, when she discovers that her husband is a fool (and that he is when he offers to condone her offence because it has not leaked out) decides to leave her children 'not considering herself worthy of bringing them up,' is a not very clever trick of coquetry. If they have both been fools (and surely they don't teach at the seminary that it is right to forge bills) they should pull well together in future in double harness."

"Least of all is she justified in leaving her children's education in the hands of the father whom she despises."

"5. Nora has consequently every reason for staying with her children when she discovers what an imbecile her husband is."

"6. The husband cannot be blamed for not sufficiently appreciating her, for she doesn't reveal her true character until after the row."

"7. Nora has undoubtedly been a fool; she herself does not deny it."

"8. There is every guarantee of their pulling together more happily in future; he has repented and promised to turn over a new leaf. So has she. Very well! Here's my hand, let's begin again at the beginning.

Birds of a feather flock together. There's nothing lost, we've both been fools! You, little Nora, were badly brought up. I, old rascal, didn't know any better. We are both to be pitied. Pelt our teachers with rotten eggs, but don't hit me alone on the head. I, though a man, am every bit as innocent as you are! Perhaps even a little more so, for I married for love, you for a home. Let us be friends, therefore, and together teach our children the valuable lesson we have learnt in the school of life."

Is that clear? All right then!

This was written by Captain Pal with his stiff fingers and slow brain!

And now, my darling dolly, I have read your book and given you my opinion. But what have we to do with it? Didn't we love one another?

Haven't we educated one another and helped one another to rub off our sharp corners? Surely you'll remember that we had many a little encounter in the beginning! What fads of yours are those? To h.e.l.l with all Ottilias and seminaries!

The book you sent me is a queer book. It is like a watercourse with an insufficient number of buoys, so that one might run aground at any moment. But I p.r.i.c.ked the chart and found calm waters. Only, I couldn't do it again. The devil may crack these nuts which are rotten inside when one has managed to break the sh.e.l.l. I wish you peace and happiness and the recovery of your sound common sense.

"How are the little ones? You forgot to mention them. Probably you were thinking too much of Nora's unfortunate kiddies, (which exist only in a play of that sort). Is my little boy crying? My nightingale singing, my dolly dancing? She must always do that if she wants to make her old pal happy. And now may G.o.d bless you and prevent evil thoughts from rising between us. My heart is sadder than I can tell.

And I am expected to sit down and write a critique on a play. G.o.d bless you and the babies; kiss their rosy cheeks for your faithful old Pal."

When the captain had sent off his letter, he went into the officers'

mess and drank a gla.s.s of punch. The doctor was there, too.

"Have you noticed a smell of old black breeches?" he asked. "I should like to hoist myself up to the cat block and let a good old N.W. by N.

blow right through me."

But the doctor did not understand what he was driving at.

"Ottilia, Ottilia!... What she wants is a taste of the handspike. Send the witch to the quarterdeck and let the second mess loose on her behind closed hatches. One knows what is good for an old maid."

"What's the matter with you, old chap?" asked the doctor.

"Plato! Plato! To the devil with Plato! To be six months at sea makes one sick of Plato. That teaches one ethics! Ethics? I bet a marlinspike to a large rifle: if Ottilia were married she would cease talking of Plato."

"What on earth _is_ the matter?"

"Nothing. Do you hear? You're a doctor. What's the matter with those women? Isn't it bad for them to remain unmarried? Doesn't it make them...? What?"

The doctor gave him his candid opinion and added that he was sorry that there were not enough men to go round.

"In a state of nature the male is mostly polygamous; in most cases there is no obstacle to this, as there is plenty of food for the young ones (beasts of prey excepted): abnormalities like unmated females do not exist in nature. But in civilised countries, where a man is lucky if he earns enough bread, it is a common occurrence, especially as the females are in preponderance. One ought to treat unmarried women with kindness, for their lot is a melancholy one."

"With kindness! That's all very well; but supposing they are anything but kind themselves!"

And he told the doctor the whole story, even confessing that he had written a critique on a play.

"Oh! well, no end of nonsense is written," said the doctor, putting his hand on the lid of the jug which contained the punch. "In the end science decides all great questions! Science, and nothing else."

When the six months were over and the captain, who had been in constant, but not very pleasant, correspondence with his wife, (she had sharply criticised his critique), at last landed at Dalaro, he was received by his wife, all the children, two servants and Ottilia. His wife was affectionate, but not cordial. She held up her brow to be kissed. Ottilia was as tall as a stay, and wore her hair short; seen from the back she looked like a swab. The supper was dull and they drank only tea. The long boat took in a cargo of children and the captain was lodged in one of the attics.

What a change! Poor old Pal looked old and felt puzzled.

"To be married and yet not have a wife," he thought, "it's intolerable!"

On the following morning he wanted to take his wife for a sail. But the sea did not agree with Ottilia. She had been ill on the steamer.