And in the end the Admiral presented Arne with two brand-new pairs of trousers and a pound in cash.
The years passed by. Doffen stayed on in the office, and became indispensable as time went on. He and the Admiral made a pair. And whenever the conversation languished towards the milk-and-watery, Ferryman Arne would come and lend a hand.
The Princess roamed far and wide about the world. She sent home newspapers, wherein they read that she was performing at this or that great city, with thousands of admirers at her tiny feet.
The Admiral read it all without the slightest token of surprise, his only comment being: "All right, that's her business." But when one day he received a card bearing the inscription, "Countess Montfalca," surmounted by a coronet, he spat, and remarked to Doffen:
"Well, after all, there's nothing surprising in that, seeing her mother was a queen."
XXI
DIRRIK
The first time I met him was in 1867, on board the schooner Jenny of Svelvik. The skipper was an uncle of mine, and had taken me along as odd boy for a summer cruise. And Ole Didriksen, or Dirrik, as we called him, was first hand on board.