Part 33 (1/2)
”He never can keep a still tongue in his head,” agreed Justice Heidt.
It was now past one o'clock: the King was to arrive at four, and there was no painting a new design in three hours. Hang up a big Norwegian flag? That, of course, could be done; but it would seem a very poor sort of decoration without the arms of the town. Then Governor Hansen had a bright idea: ”Let's get up an impromptu lunch at once, and ask Rordam along, as if nothing was the matter.”
”Do you think he'll come?” asked Justice Heidt.
”Sure enough--if we just let him know it's a special lunch for a small select party. Send the message in your own name, Justice, and I'll wager a bottle of Montebello he'll come.”
Half an hour after, Rordam arrived, and was received by Justice Heidt, who clapped him on the shoulder and thanked him heartily for his splendid decoration of the hall.
”And I must say we are fortunate in having in so small a town an artist of taste like yourself. I am sure His Majesty will wish to thank you personally. By the way, that coat of arms, it will be ready in time, I hope? Dr. Knap was just saying it was a magnificent piece of work.”
”Why--er--that is--I wasn't altogether pleased with it myself, so I took it down.”
”Oh, nonsense, my dear fellow! I am sure it's excellent. Hang it up again and don't worry about that.”
The s.h.i.+eld was set in place again accordingly, and the committee unanimously expressed their admiration. The figure of the bear in particular was highly praised. ”As lifelike as anything you'd see in a menagerie,” said Warden Prois cautiously. ”And the young lady too, I'm sure,” said Dr. Knap, with a sly nudge to Heidt. Rordam was pacified, completely won over, and so gratified at the amiable condescension of the notables at lunch that he felt he could afford to despise a mere lawyer like that fellow Nickelsen.
At half-past three precisely the committee members of Council and other leading personages went down to the quay where the Royal party was to land. The appearance of Warden Prois, with his gold-laced cap, ditto tunic, belt and dirk (all newly ordered for the occasion) was the signal for cheering from the a.s.sembled urchins. The demonstration, however, so annoyed the old man that he angrily ordered them to ”keep quiet, you little devils,” at which undignified utterance on the part of a person in authority, Justice Heidt frowned severely.
The four town constables were likewise dressed for the occasion with new trousers and white cotton gloves, and made a brave show.
”Boom--boom--boom!” came the salute from the fire-station, and Ottosen's black mare reared so violently that Aslaksen's silver-braided silk hat fell off. Worse was to come, however. As the band from Horten struck up, ”Swift” became troublesome. At last the Warden himself had to spring to the heads of the frantic pair and hold them, or the whole equipage would have gone over the side into the water. His Majesty, no doubt from previous experience of provincial turn-outs, preferred to walk, and the party moved off, accompanied by a burst of cheering, towards the Town Hall; Aslaksen, with his carriage and ill a.s.sorted pair, following shamefacedly in the rear.
At the upper end of the Royal table sat the Justice and other notables; the King's suite were distributed between the members of the committee. For the convenience of the latter, Heidt had had cards set round at each place, with the names of the guest seated next.
Warden Prois, who had been introduced to his particular charge, but had not managed to catch the name, slipped away stealthily outside, put on his spectacles and endeavoured to read his card. ”His Excellency ... M.--M.--Megesen--no, Pegestik--devil take me if I can make head or tail of it.” At last he decided for ”Negesuk” as the Excellency's name--Swedish names were always queer.
It was a very festive affair, and full justice was done to the fourteen courses and Nachmann's good wine. The official speeches were all delivered with laudable precision, excepting Governor Hansen's.
That worthy came to a standstill, and had to fumble in his waistcoat pocket for the written copy, consisting of two lines scrawled on a bit of paper, the crumpled appearance of which suggested that it had been liberally consulted already.
The talk flowed easily and without embarra.s.sing restraint. Old Klementsen quietly pocketed a copy of the menu, to take home to his wife; it was only fair that she should have her share of the feast.
”Mr. Chamberlain Negesuk, may I have the honour?” Prois raised his gla.s.s courteously towards his neighbour, who drank with him and bowed in return, albeit with some stiffness of manner. This, however, the Warden attributed to their proximity to the Royal person.
”Ah--my name is Von Vegesak,” said the courtier, with a bow.
”The deuce it is,” said Prois; ”it doesn't look like it on the card.”
And he put on his gla.s.ses and turned the card about.
”Oh, but that's not my birth certificate, you know,” answered Von Vegesak, with a smile.
”Well, anyhow, here's to you, Mr.--Mr.--Vegesak.”
At one end of the Royal table sat Governor Hansen and Captain Palander, deep in conversation about--horses! Horses were the one theme in which Hansen was really interested, devoting especial attention to trotters, and once he got on to his favourite subject there was no stopping him.
”Curious thing,” he observed, ”I had a trotting horse a few years ago called Palander--ha, ha, ha! Yes, that was really its name. But I could never get any pace out of it on ordinary going; ice underfoot was the only thing to make it go.”
”Very good claret this,” murmured the King to Justice Heidt.
”Yes, Your Majesty; we have it from our worthy dealer here, Mr.