The Best of Knut Hamsun. Knut Hamsun
VI
Tidemand was still optimistic; his ice business in England was very profitable. He did not place much faith in the reports that extensive rains throughout Russia had greatly improved the prospects for a normal harvest. It had rained, of course, but the fact remained that Russia was still closed; not a sack of grain could be smuggled out if one were to offer for it its weight in gold. Tidemand stuck to his price; occasionally he would sell small quantities throughout the country, but his enormous stores were hardly affected by this; he needed a panic, a famine, before he could unload. But there was no hurry; only wait until winter!
As usual, Tidemand was eagerly sought by business solicitors of every description; subscription lists and all kinds of propositions were placed before him; his name was in demand everywhere. Nothing could be started without the support of the business element; and it was especially the younger business men, the energetic and self-made men who conducted the large enterprises, who commanded money and credit and knew and recognised opportunities, whose interest had to be enlisted. There was the electric street-car proposition, the new theatre, the proposed pulp-mills in Vardal, the whale-oil factories in Henningsvaer—everything had to have the business men's stamp of approval. Both Tidemand and Ole Henriksen became share-owners in everything as a matter of course.
"My father should have known this!" Tidemand would often say when he gave his signature. His father had a reputation for miserly thrift which had survived him; he was one of the old-fashioned tradesmen, who went around in his shirt-sleeves and apron, and weighed out soap and flour by the pound. He had no time to dress decently; his shoes were still a byword; the toes were sticking out, and when he walked it looked as if his toes were searching for pennies on the flagstones. The son did not resemble the father much; for him the old horizons had been broken, cracked wide, and opened large views; his optimistic business courage was recognised.
Ole Henriksen had just dropped in on him in his office and was talking about the projected tannery for which an ideal site had been found near Torahus. This enterprise was bound to amount to something in the near future; the great forests were being cut rapidly; the lumber was sold here and abroad. But two and three inch cuttings and the tops were left and went to waste. What a lack of foresight! Pine bark contained nearly twenty per cent tannin; why not utilise it and make money out of it?
"We will see what can be done next spring."
Ole Henriksen looked a little overworked. He had not sufficient help; when he went to England that autumn he would have to give his head assistant power of attorney and leave everything to him. Since Aagot came Ole's work had been only fun; but now she was a little indisposed and had kept up-stairs for a couple of days. Ole missed her. She must have been careless on this excursion day before yesterday and have caught a cold. He had wanted to take her out in the little yacht, but this had now been postponed until Sunday. He asked Tidemand to come along; there would be a few more; they would sail out to some reef and have coffee.
"Are you sure Miss Aagot will be well by Sunday?" asked Tidemand. "These boat-rides are dangerous so early in the year. What I was going to say was: Won't you please ask Hanka yourself? I am not sure I can make her come—In regard to this tannery proposition, I think I shall have to hold the matter in abeyance for the present. It will also depend on the lumber quotations to some extent."
Ole returned after he had looked up Hanka and invited her. He wondered a little over Tidemand's remark about boat-rides being dangerous; Tidemand had given the remark a subtle meaning, and Ole had looked at him interrogatingly.
Ole found Aagot in her own room; she was reading. When he entered she threw down her book and ran to him. She was well again, entirely well— just feel the pulse, not a trace of fever! How she looked forward to Sunday! Ole warned her again about being careful; she would have to dress properly. Even Tidemand had spoken about these risky boat-rides so early in the season.
"And you are going to be the hostess!" he chaffed her. "What a darling little mistress! By the way, what are you reading?"
"Oh, that is only Irgens's poems," she answered.
"Don't say 'only' Irgens's poems," he chided her playfully. "By the way, I ran across Coldevin a moment ago; he said he was looking for somebody. I couldn't get him to come up—he simply wouldn't."
"Did you invite him to our excursion?" asked Aagot quickly. She seemed very much disappointed because Ole had forgotten to ask him. He had to promise her to try his best to find Coldevin before Sunday.
* * * * *
Tidemand rang Henriksen's bell late Saturday evening and asked for Ole. He did not want to come in; it was only a small matter, he would keep Ole only a minute.
When Ole came out he saw at once that something serious had happened. He asked whether they should go down to the office or take a walk; Tidemand did not care which. They went downstairs to the office.
Tidemand took out a telegram and said:
"I fancy my rye speculation isn't going to turn out very well. The prices are normal at present; Russia has lifted the ban."
It was true that Russia had recalled her decree against rye exportations. The favourable prospects had not proved disappointing, and this, in connection with large amounts of grain stored in the elevators from previous years, had made further restrictions superfluous. The famine ghost had been laid; Russian and Finnish harbours were once more open. Such was the purport of the telegraphic message.
Ole sat there silent. This was an awful blow! His brain was awhirl with thoughts: could the telegram be a hoax, a piece of speculative trickery, a bribed betrayal? He glanced at the signature; no, it was out of the question to suspect this reliable agent. But had anything like that ever happened before? A world-power had fooled itself and taken self-destructive measures for no apparent reason! It was even worse than in fifty-nine when a similar edict had been lifted and had caused the world-markets wreck and ruin. But there had been war then.
The clock on the wall ticked and ticked in the unbroken silence.
Finally Ole asked: "Are you sure the wire is authentic?"
"It is authentic enough, I fancy," said Tidemand. "My agent wired me twice yesterday to sell, and I sold what I could, sold even below the day's quotations; but what did that amount to? I lost heavily yesterday, I tell you."
"Well, don't do anything hastily now; let us consider this carefully. But why did you not come to me yesterday? I had a right to expect that from you."
"I ought hardly to have brought you such a piece of news this evening, even, but—"
"Once and for all," Ole interrupted him, "understand that I will help you all I possibly can. With everything I have, you understand. And that is not so very little, either."
Pause.
"I thank you, Ole—for everything. I knew I shouldn't go to you in vain. You could help me a good deal if you would take over some of my obligations—I mean those that are non-speculative, of course."
"Nonsense—anybody will take such things! I am taking rye. We will date the papers day before yesterday—for the sake of the old man."
Tidemand shook his head.
"I am not going to pull you under, too."
Ole looked at him; the veins in his temples were swelling. "You are a damn fool!" he exclaimed angrily.
"Do you for a moment think you can so easily pull me under?" And Ole swore, with blazing eyes, right into Tidemand's face: "By God, I'll show you how easily you can pull me under!"
But Tidemand was immovable; not even Ole's anger made him yield. He understood Ole; his means were perhaps not so insignificant, but it was no use making out that he could do everything. Ole boasted only because he wanted to help him, that was all. But from to-morrow on the bottom would simply drop out of the market; it wasn't right to sell rye even to one's enemies at yesterday's prices.
"But what are