Shallow Soil | Page 5

high that I consider him alone able to do what is needed," said Irgens with thinly veiled sarcasm.
This took Milde by surprise; he was not prepared to contradict Irgens; he nodded and said:
"Certainly--exactly. I only thought it might accelerate matters to have a little assistance, so to speak--a brother in arms. But of course I agree with you."
Outside the Grand Hotel they were fortunate enough to run across Tidemand, a huckster also, a wholesaler, a big business man, head of a large and well-known business house.
"Have you dined?" called the Artist to him.
"Lots of times!" countered Tidemand.
"Now, no nonsense! Are you going to take me to dinner?"
"May I be permitted to shake hands first?"
It was finally arranged that they should take a run up to Irgens's rooms to sample the brandy, after which they were to return to the Grand for dinner. Tidemand and the Attorney walked ahead.
"It is a good thing that we have these peddlers to fall back on," said Milde to Irgens. "They are useful after all."
Irgens replied with a shrug of the shoulders which might mean anything.
"And they never consider that they are being imposed upon," continued Milde. "On the contrary, they think they are highly favoured; it flatters them. Treat them familiarly, drink their health, that is sufficient. Ha, ha, ha! Isn't it true?"
The Attorney had stopped; he was waiting.
"While we remember it, we have got to make definite arrangements about that farewell celebration for Ojen," he said.
Of course, they had almost forgotten about that. Certainly, Ojen was going away; something had to be done.
The situation was this: Ojen had written two novels which had been translated into German; now his nerves were bothering him; he could not be allowed to kill himself with work--something had to be done to procure him a highly needed rest. He had applied for a government subsidy and had every expectation of receiving it; Paulsberg himself had recommended him, even if a little tepidly. The comrades had therefore united in an effort to get him to Torahus, to a little mountain resort where the air was splendid for neurasthenics. Ojen was to go in about a week; the money had been raised; both Ole Henriksen and Tidemand had been exceedingly generous. It now only remained to arrange a little celebration to speed the parting comrade.
"But where shall we find a battle-ground?" asked Milde. "At your house, Grande? You have plenty of room?"
Grande was not unwilling; it might be arranged; he would speak to his wife about it. For Grande was married to Mrs. Liberia, and Mrs. Liberia simply had to be consulted. It was agreed to invite Paulsberg and his wife; as contributors Mr. and Mrs. Tidemand and Ole Henriksen were coming as a matter of course. That was settled.
"Ask whom you like, but I refuse to open my doors to that fellow Norem," said the Attorney. "He always gets drunk and sentimental; he is an awful bore. My wife wouldn't stand for him."
Then the affair could not be held at Grande's house. It would never do to slight Norem. In the perplexity Milde offered his studio.
The friends considered. It was not a bad idea; a better place would be hard to find. The studio was big and roomy as a barn, with two cosy adjoining rooms. Milde's studio, then--settled.
The affair was coming off in a few days.
The four gentlemen stopped at Irgens's place, drank his brandy, and went out again. The Attorney was going home; this decision about the studio did not suit him; he felt slighted. He might decide to stay away altogether. At any rate, he said good-bye now and went his own way.
"What about you, Irgens--I hope you will join us?"
Irgens did not say no; he did not at all refuse this invitation. To tell the truth, he was not unduly eager to return to the Grand; this fat artist vexed him considerably with his familiar manners. However, he might be able to get away immediately after the dinner was over.
In this desire Tidemand himself unconsciously assisted him; he left as soon as he had paid the check. He was going somewhere.

III
Tidemand made his way to H. Henriksen's large warehouse on the wharf where he knew that Ole could be found at this time.
Tidemand had passed thirty and was already getting a little grey around the temples. He, too, was dark of hair and beard, but his eyes were brown and had a listless expression. When he was sitting still and silent, blinking slowly, these heavy lids of his would rise and sink almost as if they were exhausted by much watching. He was beginning to get a little bit stout. He was considered an exceedingly able business man.
He was married and had two children; he had been married four years. His marriage had begun