"Yes, of course, I know him by sight; it is he who is so like Peer Gynt on the stage,—not, perhaps, in the beginning of the piece, but in the third and fourth acts."
I couldn't help laughing. "There, you see, Kolstad! it's not an easy thing to have to do with an actor. It was just by playing his old rôle of Peer Gynt in the fourth act that the actor made a fool of you!"
"Yes, of course it was; but who the devil could imagine—"
"No, you are right there; but how was it that your assistant didn't follow him from the hotel?"
"Well, it happened like this. The constable saw a servant beckoning for a carriage from the stand. He went up to the servant and asked who was going away. It was Mr. D——, the ambassador, he answered, and when the constable saw a fine old gentleman with grey whiskers step into the carriage he suspected nothing, but continued to keep his watch outside, as before."
"That is all right, so far; but I can't understand that the man's hand-bag did not betray him. Both you and your assistant knew it well. Besides, it seems to me that the porter must have been astonished to see a young, smooth-shaven man come into the hotel, and then leave it as a 'fine old gentleman,' as you say, 'with grey whiskers.'"
"Yes; but I have not yet told you all, sir. You shall hear how clever the rascal was. Inside the large hand-bag which he carried, he had another suit, a false beard, and all his apparatus, besides a smaller travelling bag to carry in the hand. It was in the carriage that he transformed himself into an ambassador; the hood was well pulled down, as it rained a little. The hotel porter had, therefore, only seen him as the elderly gentleman the whole time; and we, who only saw him step out of the carriage with his back toward us, several hundreds of yards off, could have no idea that he had thus changed his appearance. It did not enter into our minds to ask the porter about the appearance of the man whom we had followed the whole time."
"But the large hand-bag?"
"Well, he let that remain in the carriage, and gave the coachman orders to take it back to his lodgings early to-day. I got hold of the driver at last, and heard how all had happened. He himself thought it was a little strange that the man should disguise himself during the drive; but as far as I could understand, he was a little tipsy on this occasion, and as he got two kroners as a tip he presumed it was no business of his. Now you know all, sir, and can see how cleverly I was taken in by that vagabond of an actor; only—"
I did not let him dilate further upon this subject, but sent him away. I had heard enough.