Before He Could Bring Himself To Begin Upon The Foreign Post, Which Lay
In A Formidable Packet On His Desk.
Among The Letters There Was One From Barnett Brothers In Paris; He Knew
The Handwriting, But The Office Stamp Was Missing. As He Opened It, It
Struck Him That It Was Longer Than Usual. He Turned It Over Hastily.
What Was This? Rachel Carman'S Signature Stood At The Foot Of The
Letter! Jacob Worse Read As Follows:--
"Dear Mr. Worse,
"As I Sit Down To Write To You, And Thus Carry Out A Long-Formed
Resolution, I Feel So Overcome By Emotion, That I Find It Difficult To
Control Myself Sufficiently, To Express My Thoughts _Verbatim_. But Now,
As I Have Made Up My Mind, I Will Endeavour To Make My Letter Clear And
Chapter 25 Pg 159
Concise.
"I Have, As You Now Perhaps Perceive, Carried On The Norwegian
Correspondence Of Messrs. Barnett Brothers For Several Years. In My
Private Letters To You I Have Disguised My Handwriting, So As Not To
Betray My Secret. I Wished, In Fact, To See First If I Could Make Myself
Useful, And Am At Length Satisfied I That I Can. I Have Learnt To Adopt
Your Mother'S Homely Maxim--Remember Me Kindly To Her--I Can Work.' In
Your Kind Letters, For Which Receive My Best Thanks, I Have Sometimes
Thought That I Could Perceive A Feeling Of Astonishment, As To How I
Could Be Employing All The Money You Have Sent Me. It Is Placed In Our
Business. I Say Our Business, Because Messrs. Barnett Brothers Have
Offered Me A Share In Their Paris House. I Have Thus Attained The Object
Of My Ambition In That Direction.
"You Once Gave Me Some Advice. You See, I Attack Each Point Separately,
So As To Prevent Confusion, To Avoid Wasting Words, Or Forgetting
Anything Important. But To Return. When You Advised Me To Come Forward
As An Authoress, I Did Not At That Time Think That Your Idea Was
Reasonable. Since Then I Have, However, Thought The Subject Carefully
Over, And Have Indeed Made Some Small Attempts That Way, And Now I Beg
To Thank You For The Good Advice You Gave Me. I Have Indeed Much To
Thank You For.
"Now That I Am Able To Work, I No Longer Feel So Apprehensive About The
Future. It Is True, As You Said Long Ago, That There Are Many Things
Which A Woman May Have To Write About, And This Is More Especially True
With Us In Our Own Country. I Am Fortunately In an Independent Position,
_Bonheur Oblige_, And I Have Courage, So I Will Make The Attempt. But I
Must First Get Home, Not Only Because I Am As Homesick As A Child--For I
Know Perfectly Well That When I Have Been At Home For A Short Time, I
Shall Be Anxious To Start Again On My Travels--But I Feel That If I Am
To Accomplish Anything, I Must Be Among Those I Wish To Help. I Also
Wish To Be Able To Go Abroad Again, And Thus Make Existence More
Interesting; But I Must At The Same Time Have A _Pied A Terre_ At Home,
So As To Be Able To Return Whenever I May Desire To Do So. And Now Comes
The Great 'But' Which Is, In Fact, The Chief Point In This Letter--And
That, Mr. Worse, Is Yourself.
"I Do Not Wish To Return Home Before I Know Clearly In What Position We
Stand To Each Other. Of This I Feel Convinced, That You Have No Ill
Feeling Towards Me On Account Of My Former Behaviour To You. But Still I
Know Nothing Further; And If There Is Nothing More To Know, I Hope We
May Meet As Good Friends. If There Should Be Anything Further, Kindly
Let Me Have A Few Lines.
"There, Now! You See How The Matter Lies; Let Us Now Understand Each
Other Plainly, And I Beg That You Will Be Honourable And Straightforward
Towards Me. On One Thing You Can Count For A Certainty, Which Is, That I
Am, In any Case,
Your Very Sincere Friend,
Rachel Garman."
When Jacob Worse Had Read This Letter, He Sprang Up, Seized His Hat And
Umbrella, And Went Into The Clerk'S Office.
Chapter 25 Pg 160
"Has The Hamburg Steamer Started?"
"No, Sir, But The First Bell Has Just Rung," Was The Answer.
"Have You Any Gold?"
"Yes; That Is To Say, Not Very Much," Answered The Cashier.
"Let Me Have What You Have Got, And Send Thomas Over To The Bank For
Some More. A Couple Of Thousand Kroner Or So Will Do."
The Boy Ran Off With A Bundle Of Notes And A Little Canvas Bag.
"I Am Going Abroad, Svendsen, For A Fortnight Or So--I Cannot Say For
Certain. Look, Here Is My Address. And With That He Snatched The Pen
From Behind Svendsen'S Ear And Wrote Across A Large Sheet Of Paper, On
Which The Unfortunate Man Had Just Begun A Magnificent Letter:
"_Pavilion Rohan_,
"_Paris_.
The Second Bell Was Now Heard On Board The Steamer.
"All Right, Svendsen. Now You Must Manage As Well As You Can; Telegraph
If You Want Anything--My Keys Are In My Desk." When He Reached The Door
He Turned Round And Cried, "Yes, I Forgot, Svendsen; Run Over To My
Mother And Tell Her--Yes, Just Tell Her That It'S All 'Come Right;'" And
With That Away He Ran.
Old Svendsen Stood Perfectly Speechless, Staring Through The Open Door,
As He Rubbed His Thumb And Forefinger Together, Which Was A Habit Of His
When Anything Unusually Perplexing Occurred. Every Door Was Open, A
Chair Upset In The Inner Office, And Mr. Worse On The Road To Paris With
A Hat And Umbrella, Thomas After Him In Full Career With The Canvas Bag.
The Cashier Was Sitting With The Coin And Notes Scattered On The Table
In Front Of Him, Looking As If He Had Been Robbed; And As Old Svendsen'S
Eye Rested On The Ruined Letter, He Discovered That He Had A Smudge Of
Ink On One Of His Fingers. Now, It Was Thirty Years Since Old Svendsen
Had Had Any Ink On His Fingers. Mr. Worse Must Have Made A Splutter With
His Pen When He Snatched It So Hurriedly; And As The Old Bookkeeper'S
Eye Wandered From The Smudge Of Ink, To The Frightful Confusion Which
Reigned In The Office, And Back Again To The Smudge, He Repeated, Slowly
And Majestically, The Magic Words Which
