Dry Fish and Wet Part 48

Then once more she glided in across the stage.

Again an outburst of delighted applause.

One young man in particular seemed intent on outdoing all the rest--a fair-haired little fellow with a snub nose and pince-nez.

He sat in the stage box, and his shrill voice could be heard all over the theatre as he cried in unmistakable west coast dialect: "Bravo, bravissimo! Bravo, bravissimo!"

All looked at him and laughed. It was Doffen Eriksen, or Doffen, simply, as he was generally called. He came from Mandal originally, but had been several years in the town, first as head clerk at Eriksen's, and later with other local firms. His natural tendency to continual opposition, and lack of respect for his superiors, indeed for all recognised authority, prevented him from ever keeping a situation long.

He had recently gone over to the Socialist party, but at the very first meeting had abused his new comrades with emphasis: thieves, scoundrels and political mugwumps were among the expressions he used.

The last in particular aroused their indignation, and after a few weeks he was excluded from the party. He was now a free-lance, with no regular employment.

Then it happened that the Admiral advertised for an a.s.sistant to help in the office. The Admiral used his office chiefly as a place where he could give way to bad language as often as he pleased; he felt he ought to keep himself in training, and arguing with Missa was too milk and watery for his taste.

The work in the office consisted for the most part of keeping the accounts of a couple of small vessels which he owned, together with the cutting out of coupons and cas.h.i.+er work. The Admiral himself never condescended to take up a pen; one had coolies to do that sort of thing, he would say.

His two skippers were rated and bullied every time they came home from a voyage, but they were so used to the treatment that they never noticed it.

It was worse, however, for the clerk, who had to endure the same thing day after day.

During the last year or so, the Admiral had had four or five different specimens in the office, but they always made haste to better themselves at the earliest opportunity, or simply "got the sack." They were all either "a pack of fools that couldn't think for themselves," or "a lot of impertinent donkeys that fancied they knew everything."

And when, after one of his usual outbursts, the unfortunate in question found it too much, and gave notice to leave, the Admiral's standard answer was "All right! then I'll have to get another idiot from somewhere."

Doffen applied for the post, referring to his previous experience, and stated that he had been "simply thrown out of various situations, not through any lack of ability, but because the princ.i.p.als were so many blockheads, who could not bear to hear a free and independent man express his frank opinion." He was at present disengaged, on the market, and perfectly willing to undertake any kind of work whatever, "even to playing croquet." The Admiral read the application through; it was the only one he had received in answer to his advertis.e.m.e.nt.

He grunted once or twice as he read. Missa laid down her needlework and prepared for a direct attack.

The opening seemed to take his fancy, but when he came to the part about playing croquet, he exclaimed:

"What the devil does the fellow mean? Playing croquet?"

"Who?"

"Oh, the new slave I'm getting for the office."

"Well, why not. He might play with Baby."

"Oh go to...." The Admiral got up and put the application into the fire.

Next day Doffen, as the sole applicant, was accorded the post. He sat down at the high desk, on one of those scaffold-like office stools with a big wooden screw in the middle. It was a matter of some difficulty to climb up, Doffen being small of stature, but with the aid of some acrobatic backwork, he soon learned to manage it.

Opposite his place was the Admiral's seat. He loved to sit there, in the very spot where his father had sat, year after year, as far back as he could remember.

It was not often the Admiral showed any evidence of gentler feeling, but it happened at times, when very old folk chanced to come into the office. They would stand still for a long time, looking round in wonder, and finally exclaim:

"Why, if it's not exactly as it used to be in your father's time!"

and then the Admiral would jump down from his stool and slap the speaker on the shoulder.

During the first few days Doffen had not seen much of the Admiral, who had hardly looked in at the office at all. He wanted to get some idea of the "new slave's" manner and behaviour before he sat down.

On the day after the performance, the Admiral walked in and took his seat. Silence for a few minutes.

At last Doffen thought he ought to say something, and observed with the utmost coolness:

"Your daughter danced very nicely last night."

"H'm." The Admiral only grunted, and looked out of the window. Doffen imagined he had not heard.

"I was saying, Admiral, your daughter gave a deuced fine performance last night." Doffen raised his voice a little, thinking the Admiral must be hard of hearing.

"And what the devil's that got to do with you?" Doffen slammed down the lid of his desk with a bang.

"To do with me? Why, I paid for my ticket, anyway."

"I didn't ask her to dance for you, my lad, and devil take me but it shall be the last time."

"What's that to do with me?" retorted Doffen coldly.

The Admiral began to feel in his element; here at last was a man who could stand up to him.

"Can't you see she's like a young palm? Haven't you got a spice of feeling in you, man?"

"That's my business, Admiral."

The Admiral stopped short. He was on the point of bringing out his own favourite retort: "Mind your own business," and here was this fellow taking the very words out of his mouth. He went out of the room without a word.

Several times after that the Admiral launched his attacks at the new clerk, but invariably got as good as he gave. More than that, Doffen would even take the offensive himself.

"What do you think you're doing with these two hulks of yours, Admiral, eh?"

"Hulks?"

"Yes, these two old wooden arks. The skippers go floundering about like hunted c.o.c.kroaches at sea, and the s.h.i.+ps themselves go pottering from pillar to post; it's high time you got some system into the business."

"You mind your own business, please," said the Admiral, rapping on the desk. But at that the other let himself go in his barbarous dialect, like a gramophone:

"It is my business, and as long as I'm stuck here on this spindle-shanked contrivance of a stool I'll say what I think. Take me for a dumb beast, do you? Not me! It'll take more than you know to stop me talking. We're used to rough weather where I come from."

And Doffen went on in the same strain long after the Admiral had got out of the room. The Admiral himself, however, listened with delight from the other side of the door, as Doffen thumped his desk again and again, still in the full torrent of speech. It was worth while going to the office now. No more sitting glowering at a servile, stooping-shouldered little sc.r.a.p of a man, who scribbled away for dear life and shrank in terror every time he entered. Now he would generally find the room in a thick haze of tobacco smoke so that he himself could scarcely breathe. Doffen's pipe was rarely out of his mouth. Several times the Admiral had invited him, in well-chosen words, to take his beastly pipe to a hotter place, but only to be met with the retort that it might be as well, seeing there was never a box of matches here when a man wanted a light. The Admiral came more and more often to the office now. Here at least he could be sure of getting a fair go at any time, for Doffen was always open for a game.

After a while a tone of jovial roughness grew up between the two of them, and authority was relegated to the background, exactly as Doffen wished.

Altogether there was every prospect of an idyllic understanding between the two parties, until one day Doffen fell in love, over head and ears in love beyond recall.

The Princess had captivated him completely. If she chanced to come into the office for a stamp, or to deliver a letter, his heart would start hammering like a riveting machine.

His brain was so confused he hardly knew what he was doing. He would lie awake at nights in a torment of hatred against the Endresen and Karsten boys, who were rivals for her favour. And, after all, who was better fitted than he? Had he not got the Admiral's papers into proper order? Had he not managed to knock the old porpoise himself into shape, till he was grown docile and tractable as a tame rabbit?