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Solling scolded and cursed and the company was about to break up when we heard some one coming noisily upstairs. The door was thrown open and a tall, thin figure appeared on the threshold our good friend Niels Daae. He was a strange chap, this Niels Daae, the true type of a species seldom found nowadays.
Our merry mood had vanished and we took our way, quiet and depressed, through the old avenues toward our home. For the first time in its existence possibly, our venerable "barracks," as we called the dormitory, saw its occupants returning home from an evening's bout just as the night watchman intoned his eleven o'clock verse. "Just eleven," exclaimed Solling.
These animals are to be cooked and eaten this evening in Mathiesen's establishment, and I invite this honored company to join me there. Personally I look upon the disappearance of these arms as an all- wise intervention of Providence, which sets its own inscrutable wisdom up against the wisdom which we would otherwise have heard from the lips of my venerable friend Solling."
Trembling in the thought that madness was threatening me, I tore open the first roll of paper. On it was written the name: "Sölling." I caught at the second and opened it. There stood the word: "Nansen." I had just strength enough left to catch the third paper and open it there was my own name: "Simsen." Then I sank fainting to the floor.
Lord, what a lot of bones they've dug out there! There's arms and legs and heads, many more than the Doctor could possibly need." "Much good that does us," answered Sölling. "They shut the gates at seven o'clock and it's after eleven already." "Oh, yes, they shut them," grinned Hans again. "But there's another way to get in.
"For we were just going to study the anatomy of the arm to-night." "Osteology," corrected Sölling gravely. "Get out your skeleton, little Simsen. It isn't as good as mine, but it will do for this evening."
You know how grumpy Solling gets if anything interferes with his tutoring. You see, I'd had the geese sent me, and I wanted you to all come with me to Mathiesen's place. I knew you were going to read the osteology of the arm, so I went up into Solling's room, opened it with his own keys and took the arms from his skeleton. I did the same here while you were downstairs in the reading room.
I would show Outzen, and Sölling, and all the rest, what a devil of a fellow I was. My heart beat rapidly as I stole through the long dark corridor, past the ruins of the old convent of St. Clara, into the so-called third courtyard. Here I took a lantern from the hall, lit it and crossed to the mill where the clay was prepared for the factory.
I went to the corner where my anatomical treasures were hidden behind a green curtain "the Museum," was what Sölling called it but my astonishment was great when I found my skeleton in its accustomed place and wearing as usual my student's uniform but without arms. "The devil!" cried Sölling.
We thought you'd never come; why, it's nearly twelve o'clock!" Without a word I drew back my overcoat and laid my booty on the table. "By all the devils," exclaimed Solling in anatomical enthusiasm, "where did you find that superb arm? Simsen knows what he's about all right. It's a girl's arm; isn't it beautiful? Just look at the hand how fine and delicate it is! Must have worn a No. 6 glove.
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