The Company At Anders Begmand'S Had Been Busy That Evening, Especially
Tom Robson, And By The Time It Was About Ten O'Clock He Was Pretty Well
Tipsy. Woodlouse Was No Better; But Torpander Kept As Sober As Usual,
Looking Towards The Door Every Time He Heard A Noise. With The Darkness
A Fresh Breeze Began To Blow Up From The South-West, Which Swept Over
The Open Ground Above Sandsgaard And Down On To The Fjord. It Made The
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Old Cottage Shake Again When The Wind Came Back In eddies From The Hill
Behind It, And Torpander Got Up Every Moment, Thinking That The Door Was
Opening, To The Endless Amusement Of Mr. Robson.
Martin Drank In Silence, And Looked Even More Gloomy Than Usual. The
Whole Winter He Had Been Out Of Work. Tom Robson Had Lent Him Money, And
That Made Him Even More Morose, For He Was Proud After His Own Fashion,
And Gratitude Was Not In His Nature.
At Last Marianne Came. Torpander Greeted Her In His Usual Respectful
Manner, To Which She Answered With A Faint Smile. She Looked Almost
Ready To Fall From Weariness, As She Passed Hurriedly Through The Room.
"Hulloa!" Cried Tom, Who Only Saw Her When She Had Reached The Kitchen
Door, "Here Comes My Sweetheart! Marianne, My Darling! The Ship Is Ready
Now, And Tom Robson Has Got Some Money. Let'S Have The Wedding;
To-Night, If You Like! Come Along!" Cried He, Struggling To Get Over The
Bench.
Martin Thrust Him Back. "Will You Let My Sister Alone?"
"I Suppose She Is Not Good Enough For An Honest Seaman, Because Of That
Infernal Young Gar----"
He Did Not Get Any Farther, For Martin Aimed A Blow At Him And Struck
Him Behind The Ear. Marianne Hastily Left The Room. Torpander Now Threw
Himself Courageously On His Ancient Enemy From The Other Side, And A
Frightful Scuffle Ensued.
Tom Robson Put Himself In Position Like An English Boxer, Drunk As He
Was, And Squared His Arms And Elbows For The Fray.
At First He Made A Few Feints At Martin, Which Were Not Meant To Be
Serious. But When He Had Received A Few Blows Which Were Really Painful,
He Sprang Away From The Table So As To Get More Room. Torpander Had Not
The Least Idea Of Using His Fists, But Hammered Away Like A Blacksmith
With His Long Skinny Arms, Either At Tom Or Else In The Air, Just As It
Might Happen. Mr. Robson Gave Him A Tap Every Now And Then Which Made
His Bones Rattle Again, But On The Whole He Allowed The Swede To Hammer
Away At His Back As Much As He Liked.
Woodlouse Looked On For Some Time With The Greatest Satisfaction, Until
The Idea Struck Him That He Would Clear The Room. He Accomplished His
Object With The Greatest Perseverance, And What With Butting With His
Head And Pushing His Heavy Body Between The Combatants, He At Length
Managed To Get The Whole Lot Turned Out Of Doors. Begmand Threw Their
Hats After Them, And Shut The Door.
The Fresh Wind Had A Cooling Effect On Them All, And On Woodlouse'S
Suggestion A Truce Was Concluded. In Order To Ratify This, It Was
Arranged That They Should Go To Tom Robson'S House, And Have Another
Dram And A Bit Of English Cheese.
They Then Clambered Up The Steep Path At The Back Of Begmand'S House,
Tom Robson Leading, And As He Was Helping Himself With His Hands Up The
Chapter 16 Pg 113
Steepest Places, He Chanced To Get Hold Of A Loose Stone, Which, In Pure
Drunken Wantonness, He Threw At Marianne'S Window, Where He Happened To
See A Light. The Stone Struck With Such Force, Just Where The Bars Of
The Window-Frame Crossed, That All The Four Panes Were Smashed, And The
Glass Came Clattering Down.
"That Was Tom Robson!" Yelled Martin, Who Was The Last. "Let Me Get Up
To Him! Out Of The Way! Only Let Me Get My Hands On Him!" And He Worked
His Way Past The Others, And Got Up To Tom, Just As He Had Reached The
Top Of The Slope Where The Flat Meadow Began.
Martin Went At Him With Such Violence That The Other Had Not Time To Put
Himself In Position. Blow After Blow Rained Down On Him, Until He Fell
To The Ground Half Stupefied. Martin Threw Himself Upon Him, Put His
Knees On His Breast, And Struck Him In The Face, And Then Continued
Hitting And Kicking At Random Until He Could Do So No Longer.
The Others Now Came Up, But Did Not Get Between The Combatants. Martin
Was Now Perfectly Wild, And Went On In Front, Swinging His Arms, Cursing
And Swearing Horribly. Tom Robson Came Limping Behind; But No Sooner Did
Martin Catch Sight Of Him, Than He Threw Himself Upon Him A Second Time,
Until He Again Lay Apparently Dead Upon The Meadow. They Thus Continued
Their Way Over The Field, But Just As Martin Was Making A Third Attack
Upon Tom, A Tall, Slender Boy Came Springing Over The Field, And Put
Himself In Front Of Martin. It Was Gabriel Garman.
"Will You Leave Him Alone, Martin?" He Cried, Breathless From Running.
"Oh!" Cried Martin, "Here Is One Of The Bloodsuckers! You Have Just Come
At The Right Time. I Will Wreak My Vengeance On You, You Infernal Young
Scoundrel!"
But Just As He Was On The Point Of Attacking Gabriel His Arms Were
Seized From Behind.
"Are You Mad, Martin? It'S Gabriel, The Consul'S Son. You Are Out Of
Your Senses, Lad!" Cried Woodlouse. Both He And The Swede Threw
Themselves Upon Martin, And Held Him Fast. Martin Yelled And Struggled,
Until He At Length Fell Back, Wearied With His Efforts, And Lay Still.
Tom Robson Did Not Know Much About What Was Going On, But Managed,
However, To Stumble Up To His House, Which Was Close By.
"You Have No Occasion To Be Afraid, Mr. Gabriel," Said Woodlouse, In a
Fawning Tone; "We Have Got Him Tight."
"That Is What You Ought To Have Done Before," Answered Gabriel. "I
Should Have Been Able To Look After Myself."
He Was So Slight And Slender That Martin Could Have Crushed Him, Mad As
He Was; But Woodlouse Could Not Help Saying, As He Went Down The Slope,
"There Is Good Blood In Them."
Martin, Whom They Had Now Let Go, Raised His
