Garman and Worse | Page 3

brotherly companionship;" and finally, he read, in
the middle of a long involved sentence, "Dear Richard, don't lose
heart." This stirred Richard Garman into action: he made an effort, and
set off home. When he saw his brother come on board the steamer the
tears came to his eyes, and he was on the point of opening his arms to
embrace him. The Consul, however, held out his hand, and said quietly,
"Welcome, Richard! Where are your things?"
Since then nothing had been said about the letter; once only had
Richard Garman ventured to allude to it, when the Consul seemed to
imagine that he wished to settle up the accounts that were therein
mentioned. Nothing could have been further from the _attaché's_
thoughts, and he felt that the bare idea was almost an injury. "Christian
Frederick is a wonderful man," thought Richard; "and what a man of
business he is!"
One day Consul Garman said to his brother, "Shall we drive out to
Bratvold, and have a look at the new lighthouse?"
Richard was only too glad to go. From his earliest days he had loved
the lonely coast, with its long stretches of dark heather and sand, and
the vast open sea; the lighthouse also interested him greatly.
When the brothers got into the carriage again to drive back to the town,
the _attaché_ said, "Do you know, Christian Frederick, I can't imagine
a position more suitable to such a wreck as myself than that of
lighthouse-keeper out here."
"There is no reason you should not have it," answered his brother.
"Nonsense! How could it be managed?" answered Richard, as he
knocked the ashes off his cigar.
"Now listen, Richard," replied the Consul, quickly. "If there is a thing I
must find fault with you for, it is your want of self-reliance. Don't you

suppose that, with your gifts and attainments, you could get a far higher
post if you only chose to apply for it?"
"No; but, Christian Frederick--" exclaimed the _attaché_, regarding his
brother with astonishment.
"It's perfectly true," replied the Consul. "If you want the post, they must
give it to you; and if there should be any difficulty, I feel pretty certain
that a word from us to the authorities would soon settle it."
The matter was thus concluded, and Richard Garman was appointed
lighthouse-keeper at Bratvold, either because of his gifts and
attainments or by reason of a timely word to the authorities. The very
sameness of his existence did the old cavalier good; the few duties he
had, he performed with the greatest diligence and exactitude.
He passed most of his spare time in smoking cigarettes, and looking out
to sea through the large telescope, which was mounted on a stand, and
which he had got as a present from Christian Frederick. He was truly
weary, and he could not but wonder how he had so long kept his taste
for the irregular life he had led in foreign lands. There was one thing
that even more excited his wonder, and that was how well he got on
with his income. To live on a hundred a year seemed to him nothing
less than a work of art, and yet he managed it. It must be acknowledged
that he had a small private income, but his brother always told him it
was as good as nothing; how much it was, and from what source it was
really derived, he never had an idea. It is true that there came each year
a current account from Garman and Worse, made out in the Consul's
own hand, and he also frequently got business letters from his brother;
but neither the one nor the other made things clearer to him. He signed
his name to all papers which were sent to him, in what appeared the
proper place. Sometimes he got a bill of exchange to execute, and this
he did to the best of his ability; but everything still remained to him in
the same state of darkness as before.
One thing, however, was certain: Richard got on capitally. He kept two
assistants for the lanterns; he had his riding horse Don Juan, and a
cart-horse as well. His cellar was well filled with wine; and he always

had a little ready money at hand, for which he had no immediate use.
Thus, when any one complained to him of the bad times, he
recommended them to come into the country; it was incredible how
cheaply one could live there.
In the ten years they had passed at Bratvold, Madeleine had grown to
womanhood, and had thriven beyond general expectation; and when
she had got quite at home in the language (her mother had been a
Frenchwoman), she soon got on the best of terms with