VI

Tidemand came to H. Henriksen's office at ten the next morning. Ole was

standing at his desk.

Tidemand's errand was, as he had said, a matter of business only; he spoke

in a low voice and placed before Ole a telegram couched in mysterious

words. Where it said "Rising One," it really meant "Ten," and where it

said "Baisse U. S.," it meant an exportation prohibition on the Black Sea

and along the Danube, and a rise in America. The telegram was from

Tidemand's agent in Archangel.

Ole Henriksen immediately grasped the situation: on account of the Russian

crop failure, in connection with the already low supplies, Russia was

preparing to prohibit all grain exports. Hard times were coming. Norway,

too, would feel the pressure, and grain would soar to incredible prices.

It was necessary to get hold of as much as possible at no matter what

figure. In spite of official Russian denials of the rumours in English

newspapers, it seemed as if America already had scented the danger, for

American wheat was rising daily. From eighty-seven and eighty-eight it had

risen until it now fluctuated between one hundred and ten and one hundred

and fifteen. Nobody could predict to what heights it would climb.

Tidemand's business with Ole was a proposition that the two friends and

colleagues join in a speculation in American rye while there still was

time. They were to join forces and import a mass of rye that should

materially assist in keeping the country fed during the coming year. But

it was a matter of urgency; rye, too, was soaring; in Russia it was almost

unpurchasable.

Ole left his desk and began to walk up and down. His mind was working; he

had intended to offer Tidemand some refreshment, but forgot it entirely.

He was greatly tempted, but he was up to his neck in other pressing

engagements--that Brazilian affair had almost paralysed him for the

moment, and he did not expect to be able to take his profits until early

summer.

"There ought to be money in it," said Tidemand.

No doubt; that was not why Ole hesitated. But he simply was not able to do

it. He explained his circumstances and added that he was afraid to tackle

anything more at present. The speculation appealed to him, notwithstanding

his inability to participate; his eyes gleamed, and he inquired eagerly

into all the details. He took a piece of paper, made estimates, and

studied the telegram afresh with a thoughtful air. Finally he declared

that he could do nothing.

"Of course I can operate alone," said Tidemand. "I will do it on a smaller

scale, that is all. But I should have liked you to be in on this; I would

have felt safer. I realise that you cannot go further. However, I'll

telegraph myself; have you got a blank?"

Tidemand wrote out his telegram and handed it to Ole.

"I guess that is clear enough?"

Ole stepped back a pace.

"So much?" he exclaimed. "This is a big order, Andreas."

"It is big. But I hope the results will justify it," answered Tidemand

quietly. And unable to control a feeling that overwhelmed him at the

moment, he looked toward the wall and whispered as if to himself: "I don't

care how it turns out or about anything any more."

Ole looked at him and asked:

"Any news?"

"No--"

"Well, we'll see how it turns out."

Tidemand put the telegram in his pocket.

"I should have liked us both to be in this enterprise, Ole. I must confess

that I am in deep elsewhere, too, but--I have my ice to realise on. When

the warm weather comes I'll make money on that, don't you think?"

"Decidedly! As good as ready money, ice is."

"So I am not altogether on my knees. And may the Lord keep that sad fate

from me, both for my own sake and for the sake of mine!"

"But could you not as a matter of safety--Wait a moment. Pardon me for not

offering you a cigar; I know how you like to smoke while talking; I

forgot. Sit down a moment; I'll be back directly."

Tidemand knew that Ole was on his way to the cellar for the usual bottle

of wine, and tried to call him back, but Ole did not hear and returned in

a moment with the old, fuzzy bottle. They sat on the sofa as usual and

drank to each other.

"I simply wanted to ask," continued Ole, "are you sure you have considered

everything in connection with this American affair? I do not flatter

myself that I can teach you anything, you know, but--"

"Yes, I fancy I have calculated all contingencies," answered Tidemand.

"You notice I am using the term 'Delivery within three days.' Success

depends on quick action. I haven't even forgotten to consider the effect

of a possible presidential change in America."

"But wouldn't it be safer to place your limit a little closer? Perhaps you

ought not to buy over twelve."

"No; that would not be well. For you understand that if Russia closes,

then fifteen, or even twenty, is not too much. On the other hand, if she

does not close, then a hundred, yes, ninety, is far too much. In that case

I am done for."

They both reflected.

"I believe this enterprise is going to be lucky," said Tidemand suddenly.

"Really, I feel it. You know what it means when we traders have a

premonition of this kind."

"How are things otherwise?" asked Ole.

"Well," Tidemand answered hurriedly, "it does not look so bad just now,

not at all. Things are very much as usual at home."

"No change, then?"

"Well, no--I must get back now."

Tidemand got up. Ole followed him to the door and said:

"It wasn't you who didn't care how matters turn out, was it? Well, I am

glad you came, anyway."

The awkward fellow! This was Ole Henriksen's way of stiffening a comrade's

backbone.

But Tidemand did not go at once; he stood there with his hand on the

door-knob and shifted his eyes nervously from place to place.

"It can hardly be thought strange if I get a little downhearted once in a

while," he said. "Things do not look very bright for me; I do my best to

fix everything up, but I do not make much headway, not very much, no.

Well, we'll have to wait and see how matters shape themselves. I think it

is getting a little better, thank God."

"Does your wife keep at home more now? It seems to me that--"

"Hanka has been a good mother to the children lately. I have been very

happy because of that; it has brought us closer together, as it were. She

is busy fitting the children out for the country. It is wonderful the

things she gets together; I have never seen anything like it--blue and

white and red dresses! They are lying home; I look at them whenever I am

home. Perhaps I shouldn't place too much faith in it. She does not

consider herself married yet, she continues to call herself Lange. That

may be only a whim. She calls herself Tidemand, too; she does not forget

that. You yourself heard last night in Tivoli how she asked me for a

hundred. I am glad she does that; I don't mind, and shouldn't have

mentioned it if you hadn't heard it yourself. But it happened to be the

third hundred crowns she had got from me in two days. Don't misunderstand

me! But why does she ask me for money before people? Isn't that as if she

wanted to give out the impression that that is the only way to take me,

otherwise she wouldn't get any? She uses a good deal of money; I hardly

think she uses it for herself; I am sure she doesn't, for Hanka was never

extravagant. She must be giving it away; it is her affair if she helps

somebody. She gets quite a lot of money from me in a week's time;

sometimes she gets it when she goes out, and she has nothing left when she

returns, although she has bought nothing. Well, that does not matter. As

long as I have anything it belongs to her as well as to me; that is only

right and natural. I asked her jokingly once if she wanted to ruin me--

make a beggar out of me. It was only a joke, and I laughed heartily myself

as I said it. But I shouldn't have said it; she offered to leave the house

whenever I wanted her to--in short, divorce. She has told me that often

enough, but this time simply because of a joke. I said that I was sorry,

and I asked her pardon; I had never for a moment thought of such a thing

as that she might ruin me. 'Dear Andreas,' she asked me, 'can we never get

free from each other?' I do not know what I answered; I guess there was

not much sense to it, for she asked immediately for my key, as she had

lost her own. I gave it to her, and then she smiled. 'Smile again,' I

said, and she did it for my sake, and said smilingly that I was a big

baby. Yesterday morning I didn't see her before I got home from the

office. She was still working with the children's summer outfit and showed

me everything. She took out her handkerchief, and as she pulled it out

from her dress a tie fell out, a gentleman's red tie. I made out that I

did not see it; but I knew very well that the tie did not belong to me. I

knew it only too well. That is--understand me correctly--I did not see it

well enough to be sure whom it might belong to. It might even have been

one of my own ties, some old rag I have ceased to use. It is a peculiarity

of mine never to remember my own ties; I notice them so little, I

imagine--So things are coming around, as I said. And if my big trade now

succeeds, perhaps that will bring luck for us all. It would be fun to show

her that I am not such a dunce, ha, ha!"

The two friends talked a little further, after which Tidemand went to the

telegraph office. He was full of hope. His great idea was to discount the

crisis, to hold enormous supplies of grain when nobody else should have

any. He would succeed! He walked with a springy step, like a youth, and

avoided meeting anybody who might detain him.

* * * * *

A telegram to the foreign office announced five days later that the

Russian government, owing to the shortage of grain and the dark outlook

for the coming harvests, had been obliged to prohibit all exports of rye,

wheat, corn, and grist from the harbours of Russia and Finland.

Tidemand's calculations had proven correct.