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Red Room, a novel by August Strindberg |
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Chapter 9. Bills Of Exchange |
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_ CHAPTER IX. BILLS OF EXCHANGE Some time after Arvid Falk's first experience as a reporter Charles Nicholas Falk and his beloved wife were sitting at the breakfast table. He was, contrary to his custom, not in dressing-gown and slippers, and his wife was wearing an expensive morning-gown. "Yes, they were all here yesterday," said Mrs. Falk, laughing gaily, "all five of them, and they were extremely sorry about the matter." "I wish the deuce...." "Nicholas, remember you are no longer standing behind the counter." "What am I to say then if I lose my temper?" "One doesn't lose one's temper, one gets annoyed! And it's permissible to say: 'It's very extraordinary!'" "Very well, then, it's very extraordinary that you have always something unpleasant up your sleeve. Why can't you refrain from telling me things you know will irritate me?" "Vex you, old man! You expect me to keep my vexations to myself; but you lie----" "Lay, old girl!" "I say lie your burdens on my shoulders too. Was that what you promised me when we got married?" "Don't make a scene, and don't let's have any of your logic! Go on! They were all here, mamma and your five sisters?" "Four sisters! You don't care much for your family!" "No more do you!" "No more do I!" "And they came here to condole with you on account of my brother's discharge? Is that so?" "Yes! And they were impertinent enough to say that I had no longer any reason to be stuck up...." "Proud, old girl!" "They said stuck up. Personally I should never have condescended to make use of such an expression." "What did you say? I expect you gave them a piece of your mind?" "You may depend on that! The old lady threatened never again to cross our threshold." "Did she really? Do you think she meant it?" "No, I don't! But I'm certain that the old man...." "You shouldn't speak of your father in that tone! Supposing somebody heard you!" "Do you think I should run that risk? However, the old man--between you and me--will never come here again." Falk pondered; after a while he resumed the conversation. "Is your mother proud? Is she easily hurt? I'm always so afraid of hurting people's feelings, as you know; you ought to tell me about her weak points, so that I can take care." "You ask me whether she is proud? You know; she is, in her own way. Supposing, for instance, she was told that we had given a dinner-party without asking her and my sisters, she would never come here again." "Wouldn't she really?" "You may depend upon it." "It's extraordinary that people of her class----" "What's that?" "Oh, nothing; women are so sensitive! How's your association getting on? What did you call it?" "The Association for the Promotion of Women's Rights." "What rights do you mean?" "The wife shall have the right of disposing of her own property." "Hasn't she got it already?" "No, she hasn't." "May I ask what your property is of which you are not allowed to dispose?" "Half of your's, old man! My dowry." "The devil! Who taught you such rubbish?" "It's not rubbish; it's the spirit of the age, my dear. The new law should read like this: 'When a woman marries she becomes the owner of half her husband's property, and of this half she can dispose as she likes.'" "And when she has run through it, the husband will have to keep her! I should take jolly good care not to." "Under the new law you would be forced to do so, or go to the poor-house. This would be the penalty for a man who doesn't keep his wife." "Take care! You are going too far! But, have you any meetings? Who were the women present? Tell me?" "We are still busy with the statutes, with the preliminaries." "But who are the women?" "At present only Mrs. Homan, the controller's wife, and Lady Rehnhjelm." "Rehnhjelm? A very good name! I think I've heard it before. But didn't you tell me you were going to float a Dorcas Society as well?" "Found a Dorcas Society! Oh, yes, and what d'you think? Pastor Skore is coming one evening to read a paper." "Pastor Skore is an excellent preacher and moves in good society. I'm glad that you're keeping away from the lower classes. There's nothing so fatal to man or woman as to form low connexions. My father always said that; it was one of his strictest principles." Mrs. Falk picked up the bread-crumbs from the tablecloth and dropped them into her empty cup. Mr. Falk put his fingers into his waistcoat pocket and brought out a tooth-pick with which he removed some tiny atoms of coffee grounds lodged between his teeth. Husband and wife felt self-conscious in each other's company. Each guessed the thoughts of the other, and both realized that the first who broke the silence would say something foolish and compromising. They cast about for fresh subjects of conversation, mentally examined them and found them unsuitable; every one of them had some connexion with what had been said, or could be brought into connexion with it. Falk would have liked to have reason for finding fault with the breakfast, so as to have an excuse for expressing indignation; Mrs. Falk looked out of the window, feebly hoping that there might be a change in the weather--in vain. A maid-servant entered and saved the situation by offering them a tray with the newspapers, at the same time announcing Mr. Levin. "Ask him to wait," said the master curtly. For a few moments his boots squeaked up and down the room, preparing the visitor who was waiting in the corridor for his arrival. The trembling Levin, greatly impressed by the newly invented waiting in the corridor, was ultimately conducted into the master's private room, where he was received like a petitioner. "Have you brought the bill of exchange with you?" asked Falk. "I think so," replied the crestfallen Levin, producing a bundle of guarantees and blank bills of various values. "Which bank do you prefer? I have bills on all with the exception of one." In spite of the grave character of the situation Falk could not help smiling as he looked at the incomplete guarantees on which the name was missing; the bills fully filled up with the exception of an acceptor's name, and those completely filled up, which had not been accepted. "Let's say the Ropemakers' Bank," he said. "That's the one impossible one--I'm known there." "Well, the Shoemakers' Bank, the Tailors' Bank, any one you like, only do be quick about it." They finally accepted the Joiners' Bank. "And now," said Falk, with a look as if he had bought the other's soul, "now you had better go and order a new suit; but I want you to order it at a military tailor's, so that they will supply you later on with a uniform on credit." "Uniform? I don't want----" "Hold your tongue, and do as you are told! It must be finished on Thursday next, when I'm going to give a big party. As you know, I've sold my shop and warehouse, and to-morrow I shall receive the freedom of the city as a wholesale merchant." "Oh! I congratulate you!" "Hold your tongue when I'm speaking! You must go and pay a call now. With your deceitful ways, your unrivalled capacity for talking nonsense, you have succeeded in winning the good graces of my mother-in-law. I want you to ask her what she thought of the party I gave on Sunday last." "Did you...." "Hold your tongue and do as I tell you! She'll be jealous and ask you whether you were present. Of course you weren't, for there was no party. You'll both express discontent, become good friends and slander me; I know you're an expert at it. But you must praise my wife. Do you understand?" "No; not quite." "Well, it's not necessary that you should; all you've got to do is to carry out my orders. Another thing--tell Nyström that I've grown so proud that I don't want to have anything more to do with him. Tell him that straight out; you'll be speaking the truth for once! No! Hold on! We'll postpone that! You'll go to him, speak of the importance of next Thursday; paint for him the great advantages, the many benefits, the brilliant prospects, and so on. You understand me!" "I understand." "Then you take the manuscript to the printers' and--then...." "We'll kick him out!" "If you like to call it that, I have no objection." "And am I to read the verses to your guests and distribute them?" "Hm--yes! And another thing! Try to meet my brother; find out all you can about his circumstances and friends! Make up to him, worm yourself into his confidence--the latter's an easy job--become his friend! Tell him that I've cheated him, tell him that I am proud, and ask him how much he'll take for changing his name." A tinge of green, representing a blush, spread over Levin's pale face. "That's ugly," he said. "What? And besides--one thing more! I'm a business man and I like order in all my transactions. I guarantee such and such a sum; I must pay it--that's clear!" "Oh, no!" "Don't talk rubbish! I have no security in case of death. Just sign this bond made out to the holder and payable at sight. It's merely a formality." At the word holder a slight tremor shook Levin's body, and he seized the pen hesitatingly, although he well knew that retreat was impossible. In imagination he saw a row of shabby, spectacled men, carrying canes in their hands, their breast-pockets bulging with stamped documents; he heard knocking at doors, running on stairs, summonses, threats, respite; he heard the clock on the town hall striking as the men shouldered their canes and led him--with clogged feet--to the place of execution, where he himself was finally released, but where his honour as a citizen fell under the executioner's axe amid the delighted shouts of the crowd. He signed. The audience was over. _ |
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