One evening at the club, the harbour-master inquired maliciously: "Is old Adam gone to Bergen?"
"Yes; he went last week," answered Worse.
"What in the world does he go there for?"
"Business, of course. C. F. Garman has many transactions in Bergen."
"Borrow money, perhaps?"
"Come, harbour-master, we have had enough of this!" exclaimed Jacob Worse.
But the other, taking no notice of him, went on.
"No knowing; bad times for all. Spoke to Captain Andersen, Freya, just come from Bergen. Old Adam wanted two thousand dollars, they say, if he could only get them; but he could not, not a rap. No; those Bergensers are not to be taken in."
This was too bad. Worse went home. It was in everybody's mouth that things were going ill with the firm C. F. Garman, and if its credit was impaired, it was high time for him, Jacob Worse, to come to the rescue.
Next morning he presented himself at the office, and entering, shut the door towards the sitting-room, as well as that to the inner office. He desired to have a few words quite alone with the Consul.