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Updated: June 14, 2025
This copious topic being also exhausted, that is, when the history of each bird, hit or missed, had been related, satisfactory reasons alleged for each miss, sagacious comparisons made between dogs and guns, &c. &c., Fröken Mette began to lead the conversation to the subject of the haunted chamber, by informing her father of the night passed therein by her intended; at the same time playfully directing his attention to the seriousness of the latter.
'For the Kunstner Karneval! she cried eagerly, while her poor absurd face lit up. "'Yes, Fröken; and I shall be happy to escort you there if you will give me the pleasure. "She looked at me with sudden suspicion the idea that I was chaffing her must have crossed her mind. I felt myself flushing furiously, feeling somehow half-guilty by my secret thoughts of her a few moments ago.
In the street she met Cecilie Monrad, whose sister studied music with Ella; she was thus saved a walk to the other end of the town to put her off. "Everything favours me to-day," she thought. "Did you see about those two who committed suicide together at Copenhagen?" asked Cecilie. "Yes, she had." Fröken Monrad thought that it was horrible. "Why?" "Why the man was married!"
This speech naturally called for an explanation; but as the reader is already in possession of it, we will, while it is being given, turn our attention to what was passing behind this gracious personage's broad back. Here stood, to wit, the young betrothed pair, Junker Kai and Fröken Mette.
"I'm ever so sorry to leave just now. Froken Elisabeth, I'm afraid you've turned my head, bewitched me completely; but I realize it's hopeless to think of it. It's a marvel to me, by the way...." I shambled over to Raadhusgaten, and stood awhile by the cab stand, watching the entrance to the Victoria. But, of course, she had gone to see some friends.
The priest knew me again yes; and his blue-eyed wife looked at me with that sidelong glance of hers as she knew me again, for all she had known me the night before as well. Froken Elisabeth brings out some food for the journey, and wraps her friend up well. "Sure you'll be warm enough, now?" she asks for the last time. "Quite sure, thanks; it's more than warm enough with all these.
Fruen thinks for a bit and then says: "Elisabeth's in town. You might take a parcel in for her something she's forgotten." That gives me the address! I thought to myself. "But I've got to get it ready first." "Then Froken Elisabeth might be gone again before I got there?" "Oh no, she's with Fru Falkenberg, and they're staying in town for the week." This was grand news, joyous news.
I drink a good deal and that helps; at last, she really seems to fancy I am making myself agreeable to her on her own account. She looks at me curiously. "No, really, though, do you think I'm nice?" "Oh, please don't you understand? I was speaking of Fru Falkenberg." "Sh!" says Froken Elisabeth.
At that Falkenberg sat down plump at the steps and began asking all sorts of questions about the Falkenbergs at Ovrebo. Only to think he should come across his kinsmen here, and find himself, as it were, at home again. He was profusely grateful for the information. "Thanks most sincerely, Froken." Then we went on our way again, and I carried the things.
This, however, did not long continue a mystery, for the window was open, and under it stood a ladder Fröken Mette had been carried off, but by whom? What an uproar was now in the mansion! what outcry, screaming, and maledictions without object questions without answer! "After them!" was the first order, both of father and lover; but in what direction?
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