Tidemand had not been idle a moment since the blow struck him. He was at
his desk early and late; papers, bills, notes, and certificates fluttered
around him, and his energy and skill brought order out of confusion as the
days went by. Ole Henriksen had supported him on demand; he had paid cash
for the country estate and had relieved him of several outstanding
obligations.
It was made clear that the firm did not have an impregnable fortune to
throw into the breach, even though it carried on such a far-reaching
business and although its transactions were enormous. And who had even
heard of such a crazily hazardous speculation as Tidemand's fatal plunge
in rye! Everybody could see that now, and everybody pitied or scorned him
according to his individual disposition. Tidemand let them talk; he
worked, calculated, made arrangements, and kept things going. True, he
held in storage an enormous supply of rye which he had bought too high:
but rye was rye, after all; it did not deteriorate or shrink into
nothingness; he sold it steadily at prevailing prices and took his losses
like a man. His misfortunes had not broken his spirits.
He now had to weather the last turn--a demand note from the American
brokers--and for this he required Ole Henriksen's assistance; after that
he hoped to be able to manage unaided. It was his intention to simplify
his business, to reduce it to original dimensions and then gradually
extend it as it should show healthy growth. He would succeed; his head was
still full of plans and he was resourceful as ever.
Tidemand gathered his papers together and went over to Ole's office. It
was Monday. They had both finished their mail and were momentarily
disengaged, but Tidemand had to make a call at the bank; he had arranged
an appointment at five.
As soon as Ole saw him he laid down his pen and arose to meet him. They
still celebrated their meetings in the usual manner; the wine and the
cigars appeared as before; nothing had changed. Tidemand did not want to
disturb; he would rather lend a hand if he could, but Ole refused
smilingly; he had absolutely nothing to do.
Well, Tidemand had brought his usual tale of woe. He was beginning to be a
good deal of a nuisance; he simply came to see Ole whenever there was
anything the matter....
Ole interrupted him with a merry laugh.
"Whatever you do, don't forget to apologise every time!"
Ole signed the papers and said:
"How are things coming out?"
"Oh, about as usual. One day at a time, you know."
"Your wife hasn't moved as yet?"
"Not yet--no. I imagine she has a hard time finding a suitable apartment.
Well, that is her lookout. What I want to say--how is Miss Aagot?"
"All right, I guess; she is out walking. Irgens called for her."
Pause.