One of Life's Slaves Part 17

Yes, indeed, the mackerel had come--that is to say, the mackerel that the working-man can buy. It was to be had now for two-pence or two-pence halfpenny apiece, both on the fish-market and up the river here. The women, who speculated, carried them in baskets up to all the most out-of-the-way parts of the town.

It found its way now everywhere, where there was only a hole for it to slip into, a kettle or a pan for it to be boiled or fried in--into all the galleys in the harbour, from the large, superior steams.h.i.+p or full-rigged vessel, down to the cooking-stoves on the timber sloops and the little decked barges, where people were resting, and broiling it in the summer evening, into all the back blocks and small streets from the cellars to the garrets. Workmen and small tradesmen, husbands and wives were going that sultry evening with one, two, or three in their hand, according to the number of mouths there were at home. There was a smell of fried and broiled mackerel over whole quarters of the town.

It _must_ be sold, it was so confoundedly hot!

"Yes, indeed, it is a blessed warmth," answered deaf Mother Andersen, "that sends all this mackerel over the town."

This fish has had a prejudice to overcome, although in all modesty it has solicited nothing but the favour of being allowed to escape being eaten. It has the reputation of being the cannibal of the North Sea--in plain words, a man-eater, and that the dark part of its flesh comes from drowned sailors.

Nikolai and Silla were also down at the boats to seize their share of the glory of the evening. Silla had not lived near the wharves in her childhood for nothing, and to pick out the best fish from under the very nose of the old women, was an easy matter for her. She stood eagerly bargaining and stretching out over the boat.

"Thanks very much, mother, but you won't fool me into taking that sunburnt mackerel skin! Take some of those that are lying behind there under the thwart--those two--yes, just those."

She weighed them in her hand to see if they were firm and stiff.

Nikolai's hand was already in his pocket; but Silla threw the mackerel contemptuously into the boat again.

"Why, they're as old as the hills! Eyes as dead as horn!"

"Those beautiful--"

"Be quiet, Nikolai! If we are to be satisfied with these for supper, mother, you'll have to take off a farthing or two."

In the end they went for two-pence a piece.

"What a fine trader you are, Nikolai!" she said to tease him, on the way home. "But do you see how big and fresh they are?"

Barbara was standing on the steps, shading her eyes with her hand, and looking to see if Nikolai were not soon coming with the fish.

The person she did see coming quietly and sedately up the road was Silla, and she chatted with her from the steps until Nikolai also at last appeared with the two mackerel.

Of course Silla must come in and see how they tasted; there was no question of Barbara's honour and superabundant hospitality putting up with anything else.

In there on Barbara's cooking-stove the mackerel hissed and broiled that light evening. The peculiar, rather pungent smell of frying grew stronger and more appetising as it went on.

Then the pieces had to be turned with fresh fat in the pan--fresh hissing!

The scent floated out through the open window, and far into the street.

Barbara was big and slow in turning, while Silla, quick and ready, put now one thing, now another into her hands, and hurried away, and was over the fish both with her face and her opinions, long before Barbara could collect herself.

Nikolai's broad, pleased face followed the whole of the frying process with deeply interested attention.

"That mackerel's the right sort of fellow for frying!"

And then at last to take the pieces straight from the pan on to the bread!

The evening breeze began to blow cool between the warm house walls. The three who sat there enjoying the mackerel, felt as if it were a festive night.

And foreman too!

CHAPTER XI

THE WEDDING POSTPONED AGAIN

Confined as she was, and made to work through the long evenings, while her mother watched her like an eagle, Silla's only chance of indemnifying herself was up at the factory.

She went about there with a suppressed longing and eager interest, her eyes sparkling, in the midst of all the chattering, whispering and gossiping among her different ideals--Kristofa and Gunda, active Swedish Lena, and pert Jakobina. If she could not be with them herself, she might at any rate hear what fun they had had, and all that had happened.

In this way she could live their life at second hand.

It was of course Kristofa who knew how to put everything in a captivating, magic light. A little walk, a possible engagement, an evening at a dance, everything was moulded by her busy imaginative power into events that never wanted a hero, that interesting, mystic being, who was seen, now with a cigar, now without one, who sometimes pretended he did not know them, sometimes nodded, or only smiled. The person in question might be some town gentleman or other, or some one from one of the offices up there, who often had not the faintest suspicion that his coming and going was seen in Bengal illumination, or that it caused such a flutter in their hearts; though this did not preclude others from both suspecting and taking advantage of it.

These, through Kristofa's habit of spinning, grew into little romances, which Silla took in with wide-open eyes, and afterwards continued at home.

Silla herself had a little romance which she kept to herself: she would not dare to tell it to Nikolai.

She had to take care, when she went at dinner-time to buy anything for her mother at Barbara's, that Veyergang had not gone in there on his way down to light his cigar.

The last time she had met him there, he laughed and asked whether the black-eyed maid wanted to run away from him? He was not so very terrible! She had completely vanished lately. He had heard that her mother kept her in a cage for the sake of a dangerous smith--was that true? When a young girl had two such black eyes, she ought not to hide them away.

And yet it was not altogether a warlike condition; but he knew very well that she watched and waited, however long it might be, until he had left the shop.

All this was like a ray of sunlight through the high, barred paling.

In other respects, one day pa.s.sed like another, from the hum of the factory into the work at home, and Mrs. Holman was quite satisfied with the help she really must say she had of Silla this summer. That her daughter grew more large-eyed, pale and thin, it was not in her nature to attach much importance to; it only showed that Silla was not accustomed to systematic work.

On the rare occasions when Nikolai had an opportunity of speaking to her, Silla complained sadly.

She talked herself into such exasperation that she cried over everything that the others--all the others--had leave to do, and only she had not.

To begin with, in her childhood, and all the time she was growing up, she had been bottled up in that cellar in the square, and now, when she was grown up, she had got into a regular workhouse!

After having thought gloomily and sadly over this for a time, her reflections took another course, and she began to antic.i.p.ate impetuously how they would amuse themselves, she and Nikolai, when once she got away from home. She would have fun like all other young people, even if they had to give a dance in their own room. And go out in a boat in the evening and row and fish, and on Sundays take their dinner out into the woods, and shout so loud that the hills would ring again.

She was almost wild, and her eyes burned with all the pressure and work that was put upon her.

When she did not get excited with talking, she looked depressed--more so every time, Nikolai thought. Her face seemed to him to wear such a plaintive expression.

There was nothing to be done but to set his teeth and hammer away, and hope for release by the winter.

Georgina Korneliussen in the next house but one, who sewed uppers for the shoemaker--she was such a nice, quiet girl. Silla should make friends with her, Mrs. Holman thought; it began to dawn upon her that there are limits to being trained in one's duty. On Sundays they might take it in turns to visit one another, for then they would be under surveillance in both places. And Mrs. Holman even allowed Silla one Sunday to go for a walk with Georgina down in the town. Young people must have a little pleasure now and then.

Silla had looked forward all the week to this Sunday with the pa.s.sionate impatience of a bird that is to be let out of its cage, and the morning rose on great expectations of what the day would bring with it.

It seemed as if the soup with swedes in it would never be ready, so that they could have dinner. And afterwards there was endless waiting for Georgina, who could not finish adorning herself.