"
I understood what he meant, suddenly felt a little spark of pride, and
answered:
"I can't; I promised to be in Bernt Akers Street at half-past seven,
and...."
"Half-past seven, quite so; but it's eight now. Here I am, standing with
the watch in my hand that I'm going to pawn. So, in with you, you hungry
sinner! I'll get you five shillings anyhow," and he pushed me in.
Part III
A week passed in glory and gladness.
I had got over the worst this time, too. I had had food every day, and my
courage rose, and I thrust one iron after the other into the fire.
I was working at three or four articles, that plundered my poor brain of
every spark, every thought that rose in it; and yet I fancied that I wrote
with more facility than before.
The last article with which I had raced about so much, and upon which I
had built such hopes, had already been returned to me by the editor; and,
angry and wounded as I was, I had destroyed it immediately, without even
re-reading it again. In future, I would try another paper in order to open
up more fields for my work.
Supposing that writing were to fail, and the worst were to come to the
worst, I still had the ships to take to. The _Nun_ lay alongside the
wharf, ready to sail, and I might, perhaps, work my way out to Archangel,
or wherever else she might be bound; there was no lack of openings on many
sides. The last crisis had dealt rather roughly with me.
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