Complete works of hall c.., p.388

Complete Works of Hall Caine, page 388

 

Complete Works of Hall Caine
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  “Don’t be afraid for Oscar, Anna! He’ll come out all right And if he is restless and unsettled, God is good to such weak heart. He never asks more than He gives, you know.”

  The Factor came downstairs — a tall man, clean shaven, bald-headed, and a little hard and angular, wearing evening dress and a skull-cap, and carrying a long German pipe in his hand.

  “No smoking yet!” cried Aunt Margret, and with a grunt and a laugh the Factor laid his pipe on the mantelpiece.

  “And how’s Anna to-day?” he said. “No need to ask that though, our Anna is as fresh and young as ever. Upon my word, Margret, it only seems like yesterday that we were doing all this for Anna herself.”

  “She was a different Anna in those days, Oscar,” said Anna.

  “Not a bit of it! There’s a little more Anna now — that’s the only difference.”

  The Governor came in next — a broad-set man of medium height, with a beard but no moustache, and wearing his official uniform, bright with gold braid. He saluted the Factor and said —

  “I have taken the liberty to ask the Bishop, the Rector of the Latin School, and the Sheriff to join us — I trust you don’t object?”

  “Quite right, old friend,” said the Factor. “The most important acts of life ought always to be done in the presence of witnesses.”

  “And how’s Margret? As busy as usual, I see! All days don’t come on the same date; we must get ready for you next, you know!”

  “For Margret!” laughed the Factor. “She’ll have to be quick, or she’ll be late then — people don’t hatch many chickens at Christmas.”

  “Late, indeed!” said Aunt Margret, with a toss of her ringlets. “If I couldn’t catch up to you folks with your pair of chicks a-piece I shouldn’t think it worth while to begin.”

  The men laughed, and Anna said, “Well, two children would be enough for me if I could only keep them. But that’s the worst of having boys — they marry and leave you. A mother can always keep her girls—”

  “Until somebody else’s boys come and carry them off, and then she sees no more of either,” said Aunt Margret.

  “That depends on circumstances,” said the Governor—” the marriage contract, for example — eh, old friend?”

  “Exactly!” said the Factor. “You can generally keep the bull about the place if you have the cow locked up in the cow-house.”

  The men laughed again, and then the Bishop and the Rector arrived — the Bishop a saintly patriarch with a soft face and a white beard, and the Rector — as became the schoolmaster — sharper, if not more severe.

  “I was surprised when I heard it was Magnus,” said the Rector. “Oscar has beaten his brother in most things, and I thought he would beat him in getting a wife. And then Thora and he are such friends, too, and so like each other!”

  “They get on worst together who are most like each Other,” said Anna; and Aunt Margret said —

  “Stuff! A dark man’s a jewel in a fair woman’s eye, and what does Thora want with a fair one?”

  “But where is Thora?” asked the Bishop.

  “She’s dressing,” said Aunt Margret. “Let us go and fetch her down, Anna,” and the two women went upstairs.

  “Magnus ought to be here too,” said the Governor. “Where is he, I wonder?”

  “Were you asking for Magnus?” said a voice from the hall. It was the Sheriff — a small man with a sly face, wearing a gold-braided uniform like the Governor’s.

  “He’s at the warehouse, isn’t he? Or is he still at the jetty?” asked the Factor.

  “No,” said the Sheriff, entering. “To tell you the truth, when I passed the hotel he was sitting in the smoking-room.”

  “The smoking-room of the hotel?” said the Governor.

  The Factor laughed. “Treating, his friends in advance of the event, I suppose! It’s bad to let the sledge go ahead of the horse, though.”

  “No,” said the Sheriff again. “To tell you the truth he was quite alone.”

  “Drinking?” asked the Governor.

  “Nonsense, Stephen! Magnus does not drink,” said the Factor.

  “I hope not, but I’m always afraid of it. His grandfather on the maternal side, you know—”

  “Ah, nobody knows what is inside another’s coat,” said the Bishop. “Anna’s father had some trouble in his head — must have had.”

  “Even diseases are inherited,” said the Governor.

  “But the old man drank after he buried his wife, not before he married her,” said the Rector.

  And then Aunt Margret and Anna returned to the room saying, “Here she is at last!” bringing Thora in her simple velvet costume called the kirtle, with silver belt, bell sleeves, and white lace about the neck.

  The Governor took Thora in his arms and kissed her. “But how pale, my child!” he said.

  “You may well say so, Governor,” said Aunt Margret. “She has been crying since early morning.”

  “Crying?” said the Factor. “Now, I never can understand why a woman must always cry when she is going to be married: it’s such a bad compliment to her husband.”

  “But I agree with Thora,” said the Governor. “If ever there is a time to cry, or, at least, to feel grave and anxious, it is just that moment of life when it is customary to dance and sing as if you were setting out on a triumphal procession instead of taking a leap into the dark.”

  “And I agree with the Governor,” said the Bishop. “When I see a bride crying so bitterly at the altar that she can hardly utter the responses, I generally know she is going to be a happy wife.”

  “Thora might wait until the wedding, though,” said Aunt Margret, and then Oscar came dashing into the room.

  “Out walking — lost count of the time — only six minutes to dress — did it in five,” he said, in breathless gasps.

  “He’s another pale one,” laughed the Rector. “Has there been a frost overnight that has nipped all our rosebuds?”

  “Been running to get here,” said Oscar, “but I’ve raced Magnus, it seems.”

  “Magnus has raced you in another way, my boy,” said the Rector, nodding his head towards Thora, who was blushing and looking down; whereupon the Governor muttered —

  “Oscar must not dream of marriage yet awhile. He has his career to think about, and he has not been too earnest about it hitherto.”

  “Well, my experience in business,” said the Factor, “is that when a woman marries she slackens off, but when a man marries he tightens up.”

  At that the Sheriff nudged the Rector, and whispered— “The Factor has still another daughter, Rector.”

  “What if he has?” said the Factor. “A man can’t have two sisters-in-law to one brother.”

  “No, but he can give his brother a sister-in-law, too,” said the Rector, and then everybody laughed.

  “That reminds me,” said the Factor, “Helga sent us a photograph the other day. Where is it, Thora?”

  “Here it is,” said Thora, taking a photograph out of a drawer. Oscar held out his hand for it, and looked at it long and earnestly.

  “How fine! I’ve scarcely ever seen such a splendid face! Quite grown up, too! Is Helga coming home soon, Factor?”

  “Not very soon,” said the Factor.

  And then the lawyer came in with a large portfolio of papers and laid them on the table.

  “Ha, ha!” laughed the Rector. “A rich man’s child needs a careful christening, it seems!”

  “You’re right, Rector, and it has taken my clerk the entire day to engross the contract, but it was not that which kept me until now — it was this!”

  “The rings!” cried the two elder women, as the lawyer took a small plush box from his pocket.

  “Yes, you may remember that when the rings had to be ordered yesterday morning Magnus could not be found anywhere, so I was compelled to order them myself. Well, I thought I gave careful instructions, but the idea is abroad in the town, do you know, that it is Oscar, not Magnus, who is to marry Thora — nobody believes anything else — so what does Olaf the silversmith do but write ‘Oscar’ on the inside of one of the rings!”

  “Never!” said Oscar, trying to laugh with the others.

  “Yes, indeed, and the error was not discovered until the very last moment, and then all I could do, as you see, was to have ‘Oscar’ erased — it was too late to have ‘Magnus’ inscribed instead.”

  “Where is Magnus, I wonder?” said the Governor, walking restlessly before the window.

  “Don’t be anxious about Magnus, Stephen,” said Anna. “He grows more and more like my poor father. If father promised to be somewhere at a certain time he would turn up to the minute if he had to kill a couple of ponies in getting there.”

  The cathedral clock struck five at that moment, and sure enough before the clang of the last stroke had died away Magnus walked into the room. He looked slack and almost untidy in his pea jacket and long boots, and was the only person in the room who had not troubled to dress for the occasion. The Governor’s face darkened at sight of him, and the Factor said in a tone of vexation —

  “Well, let us get to work and have it over — I’ve been spoiling for a smoke this half-hour.”

  The lawyer opened his portfolio and the company gathered about the table, whereupon Aunt Margret cried —

  “Magnus, do you allow of this? Here’s Oscar sitting beside Thora.”

  “Don’t disturb him,” said Magnus. “This is good enough for me,” and he took a low seat by the side of his mother.

  “Now, come,” said the Factor, “let the one who has the best voice start the singing.”

  “It must be the lawyer, then,” said the Rector, “for every lawyer has a voice of silver — passes it for silver anyway.”

  And then, amid the general laughter, the lawyer opened the marriage contract and began to read.

  XI

  THE company listened intently, and at the close of every clause the Governor, who was resting his head on his hand and his elbow on the table, said: “Good!”

  “Very good!”

  “Generous!”

  “Most generous!”

  When the lawyer had finished, the other old people leaned back and drew long breaths of satisfaction, but the Governor rose and crossed to the Factor and shook hands with him, saying, “Just like you, old friend!”

  The Factor was gratified by the reception of the document and became bright and almost humorous. Imitating the manner of the auctioneer, he cried, “Anybody bid higher? Then going — going — go—”

  “Wait!” said the Governor. “Hadn’t we better ask the opinion of the young people themselves? After all, they are the persons ultimately concerned, and though a cow seldom kicks when you are carrying her clover—”

  There was a general titter, a nodding of many heads, and muttered responses of “Just so!”

  “Just a matter of form!”

  “Very well! Thora, what do you say?” said the Factor, expecting a burst of rapturous approval, but Thora only answered timidly —

  “I don’t know. Hadn’t you better ask Magnus first?”

  “Certainly, my dear — Magnus first, as a matter of course. What do you say, Magnus? Any suggestion to make? Any little improvement? How do you like the contract?”

  There was an awkward silence which astonished the older people, and then came a great surprise. Magnus, who had been sitting with his head down, raised a white and firm-set face and answered —

  “I do not like the contract at all, Factor, and I cannot sign it.”

  At this there were looks of bewilderment among the older people, who seemed to be uncertain if they had heard aright, while Thora and Oscar, who partly understood, seemed to be struggling to catch their breath. The Factor was the first to recover his self-possession, and he said, with a slightly supercilious accent —

  “Is that so? I thought I knew something of these matters; but if you think you can draw up a better document, Magnus—”

  But then the Governor interposed. “Some trifle, no doubt,” he said suavely. “Magnus will explain. What is the point you object to, my son?”

  There was another moment of tense silence, and then Magnus said in a harsh voice —

  “By this contract I am required to live in Iceland all my life — that’s slavery, and I will not submit to it.”

  “But, my dear Magnus,” said Anna, “don’t you see the reason for that? To all intents and purposes Thora is the Factor’s only daughter — his only child — and if she goes away who is to cheer him up and make home bright for him? Be reasonable, Magnus!”

  “Anna, hadn’t we better let the young man finish?” said the Factor. “He may have other objections. Have you?”

  “Yes,” said Magnus. “According to this contract I am to be taken into partnership on marrying Thora, but only on a quarter share. Partnership is partnership, and where there are two partners it should be half and half — I must have half.” The company listened in consternation, and the Factor began to laugh. “Why not?” he said in a cynical tone. “Everything is hay in hard weather. I’m so hard up for a son-in-law that I shouldn’t stick at a trifle.”

  “Old friend,” said the Governor, “let us not be too hasty. Perhaps Magnus has not made himself quite plain.”

  “As plain as a pikestaff. He wants an equal partnership. But perhaps that is not all. Is there anything else?”

  “Yes, there is, sir,” said Magnus, in a rather aggressive manner. “By this deed, when you retire I am to take over the business, but I am only to have one-third share of the profits — I must have two-thirds.”

  “In — deed!” said the Factor. “Do you know I thought if I allowed you to come into the business that I had made, and to work it with my plant and my capital, one-third was generous.”

  “Most generous!” said the Governor, mopping his forehead. “But Magnus is slow — slow both of thought and speech. He must have some explanation. What do you mean, Magnus? Take your time and speak plainly.”

  “I mean, sir,” said Magnus, “that the barter business in Iceland will break up before long. When the Factor retires — perhaps before — his business will be worth nothing — not even the name, for that will be less than nothing. A new business will have to be created, and if I am to create it I must have two-thirds of the profits, leaving one-third for the use of the Factor’s money.”

  The Factor was losing his temper. “Why any at all?” he said. “Why not kick me out altogether? No use beating a dog with a cheese when a whip is handy.”

  The company were murmuring at Magnus, when the Governor interposed again. “Magnus,” he said, “to say I’m astonished is to say nothing. The Factor has treated you with boundless liberality, but no well is so deep that it can’t be emptied, and if you go any farther—”

  “Go any farther!” said the Factor. “Why shouldn’t he go farther? It isn’t fair play between the wind and a straw, but why shouldn’t he beat me about a little more? Anything else to ask, sir?”

  “Yes,” said Magnus, without the change of a muscle. “By this contract my wife is to inherit half her father’s fortune at his death — she must inherit the whole of it.”

  “Good Lord!”

  The exclamation seemed to come from everybody in the general chorus of condemnation which followed.

  “Are you dreaming?” cried the Governor. “Do you forget that the Factor has another daughter?”

  “No, sir, I do not forget it,” said Magnus. “But the other daughter has gone away with her mother; she may never come back; and after Thora has spent her life by her. father’s side — cheering him up and making his home bright, as mother says — and, perhaps, nursing him in his last days — is somebody else, who has done nothing, to sweep off half of all he leaves behind? No! My wife — if I marry — must have everything!”

  The older people, both strangers and members of the family, broke into loud expressions of dissent, while the Factor looked round at them, and said, “An eagle isn’t displeased with a dead sheep, is it? And so, Mr. Governor’s son,” he said, wheeling about on Magnus, “these are the only terms on which you will do me the honour to marry my daughter?”

  Without noticing the sneer, Magnus answered, “Yes.”

  “Well, I must say I am deceived in Magnus,” said Aunt Margret. “I didn’t think he had a selfish thought in his heart.”

  “And I didn’t think,” said the Factor, who was not laughing any longer, “I didn’t think the son of anybody in Iceland could afford to turn up his nose at a daughter of mine.”

  “Neilsen,” said the Governor firmly, “we have been friends since we were boys, and neither of us knows which will bury the other — don’t let us quarrel now over the conduct of our children.”

  The company murmured approval, and then the Governor turned once more to Magnus.

  “My son — for you are my son, though I’m at a loss to understand it — you are making a breach between two families by asking these utterly impossible terms! Don’t you see they are impossible? Have you taken leave of your senses? Are you quite mad? Or is it true that you have been drinking — that you are drunk? Good God!” —

  Magnus made no answer, but the painful silence which followed the Governor’s outburst was broken by a pitiful cry. It came from Thora. She understood everything at last; she knew what Magnus was doing for her and the price he was going to pay for it; and she wanted to speak out, but could not; so she dropped her head on Aunt Margret’s shoulder and wept bitterly.

  Anna mistook Thora’s tears for shame and humiliation, and turning to Magnus she said —

  “My dear son, you haven’t thought of things in the right way or you couldn’t do what you are doing. I don’t like these marriage contracts myself. It seems like a tempting of Providence to talk about money and business just when two souls who love one another are joining themselves together and becoming one. But you are making it worse, Magnus — you are making it a mere bargain. And, then, think of Thora? If you refuse her father’s offer everybody will hear of it, and the poor girl will be shamed. Do you want to see that, Magnus? I’m sure you do not! So come now, for Thora’s sake — even though you don’t quite like the Factor’s conditions, for Thora’s sake, Magnus — will you not?”

 

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