Next came Halvor Berg, the biggest shipowner in the town, and known to all as a cautious and particular man, much sought after by the natives in all matters requiring assistance and advice. He was thus an influential man, and it was important to get him to subscribe, for the first thing people would ask was sure to be, whether Halvor Berg was coming.
Old Nick and Halvor Berg were good friends, so the reception in this case was good enough. They chatted comfortably for a while, more especially about Berg's boats, the Seaflower, Ceres, and so on, until Old Nick suddenly produced his list. "Oh, by the way, I want your name to this, Halvor. I ought by right to have taken it round to the old magistrate first, he's waiting for it, but it won't matter if you sign now while I'm here."
"Sign?" said Halvor Berg, and proceeded to study the document with great earnestness. Old Nick occupied himself meantime in surreptitiously setting the pointer of Halvor Berg's barometer down to hurricane level.
At last, having ploughed his way conscientiously through the invitation, Berg looked up, with a searching glance at Old Nick, who faced him without moving a muscle.
"H'm. H'mmm—look here, you know, Nickelsen, don't you think we could find some one else to give a banquet for instead of Prois?"
"Well, no, I can't see that we could. I don't know anyone else that's been on the Rates Committee for twenty-five years."
"He'd have been more use to the place if he hadn't been on it at all," grumbled the other.
"Oh, well, if you don't feel inclined to join with the leading people in the town on such an occasion, why...." Old Nick began folding up the list, but very slowly.
"Of course I'll come in—only I can't see what he's done to deserve it, hang me if I can."
"Look here, Halvor Berg, you can surely understand that when the parson, the doctor and myself go in for a thing like this, we've some reason for it."