I was aware that luck was befriending me. From that lady, if I had the pluck to speak to her, I could at least find out something about the mysterious Doctor Cook, and perhaps get a good story about him, whether I could meet him or not.
I struggled with my timidity, and then went across the café and made my bow to the pretty lady, explaining that I was a newspaper man from London, who had come all the way to interview Doctor Cook, who was, I understood, a friend of her distinguished husband. Could she tell me how to find him?
Mrs. Rasmussen who was highly educated and extremely handsome, spoke a little French, a little German, and a very little English. In a mixture of these three tongues we understood each other, helped out by the young Dane, who was Peter Freuchen, a well-known traveler in the Arctic regions, and a very good linguist.
Mrs. Rasmussen was friendly and amused. She told me it was true her husband was a great friend of Doctor Cook, and that he was the last man who had seen him before he went toward the North Pole. For that reason she wanted to be one of the first to greet him. A launch, or tug, belonging to the director of the Danish-Greenland Company, had made ready to go down the Cattegat to meet the Hans Egede with Doctor Cook on board, and she had hoped to make that journey. But the fog had spoiled everything, and the launch would leave in the morning instead at a very early hour. It was very disappointing!
“Surely,” I said, “if you really want to go, it would be excellent to travel to Elsinore to-night, put up at a hotel, and get on board the launch at dawn. If you would allow me to accompany you——”
Mrs. Rasmussen laughed at my adventurous plan.
According to her, the last train had gone to Elsinore.
“Let us have a taxi and drive there!”
She told me that no motor car was allowed to drive at night beyond a certain distance from Copenhagen. It would mean a fine, or imprisonment, for the driver without special license.
It seemed incredible.