She really looked as if she knew the person I
inquired for, if she would only take the trouble to reflect a bit. The
lazy jade! I got vexed, turned my back on her, and ran downstairs again.
"He wasn't there," I called to the driver.
"Wasn't he there?"
"No. Drive to Tomtegaden, No. 11." I was in a state of the most violent
excitement, and imparted something of the same feeling to the driver. He
evidently thought it was a matter of life and death, and he drove on,
without further ado. He whipped up the horse sharply.
"What's the man's name?" he inquired, turning round on the box.
"Kierulf, a dealer in wool--Kierulf."
And the driver, too, thought this was a man one would not be likely to
make any mistake about.
"Didn't he generally wear a light morning, coat?"
"What!" I cried; "a light morning-coat? Are you mad? Do you think it is a
tea-cup I am inquiring about?" This light morning-coat came most
inopportunely; it spoilt the whole man for me such as I had fancied him.
"What was it you said he was called?--Kierulf?"
"Of course," I replied. "Is there anything wonderful in that? The name
doesn't disgrace any one."
"Hasn't he red hair?"
Well, it was quite possible that he had red hair, and now that the driver
mentioned the matter, I was suddenly convinced that he was right. I felt
grateful to the poor driver, and hastened to inform him that he had hit
the man off to a T--he really was just as he described him,--and I
remarked, in addition, that it would be a phenomenon to see such a man
without red hair.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169