His manner was so very strange that morning—a mixture of hesitation and craftiness—that it made the Consul lean back in his armchair, and inquire if anything had happened to him.
"No, nothing whatever, nothing," answered Worse as he stood and shifted uneasily from one leg to another; "it was only something I wished to ask the Consul."
"We are always ready to meet all the reasonable wishes of our old friends, as far as it lies in our power. Sit down, Captain Worse."
"Well, it was just this. I was thinking of going to the fishing this winter on my own account, and—so—so—"
"I opine that Captain Worse knows that when he has been at home in the winter season we have never raised any objection to his trading on his own account at the herring fishery, nor do we now."
"Yes, thank you; I am quite aware of it; many thanks, but that was not it. H'm! A deal of money will be wanted, Herr Consul."
At these words a somewhat rigid expression stole over the Consul's face; but Worse mustered up his courage, and fired off his big gun.
"Will the Consul lend me two thousand dollars on my note of hand?"
Morten Garman gave a start in his armchair. "What! does Jacob Worse also want to borrow money?"
"Yes. You see, Herr Consul, everybody wants money for the autumn fishing, and I particularly wish to cope on equal terms with Sivert Jespersen and the others up there."