er, was hurt when addressed in the following terms: "For
a mere sailor, I must admit that on this occasion you have managed
pretty well for yourself."

Madame Torvestad redoubled her attentions; and when the autumn came,
with its rain and bad weather, Jacob Worse found it pleasant enough
to drink tea with madame and her daughters, when there was no
meeting.

They bantered him so terribly at the club.

CHAPTER V

Late in the autumn, when the sun set in lurid clouds full of storm
and rain, the little town was shrouded in a darkness which was only
relieved by a small lantern, which glimmered on the wall at the door
of the town hall.

Otherwise it was dark, pitch dark, in the narrow, crooked streets,
and down by the wharves, where one might fall headlong into the sea
if tipsy, or a stranger.

In the small shops train-oil lamps or tallow candles were burning, in
the larger ones suspended "moderator" lamps were beginning to be
used.

A faint light was thus thrown upon the puddles, and those who were
well acquainted with the street could pick their way dryshod.

Most people, however, wore long boots, and came tramping along, so
that they could be heard splashing through the mud.

Here and there a small lantern might be observed swinging along, at
one moment lowered carefully in order to seek a path in the worst
places, at others casting its inquisitive light in the faces of the
passers-by, or against the sides of the low wooden buildings.

Ladies with cap baskets, from which knitting needles were sticking
out, might be seen going to evening parties; or servant maids
carrying lanterns, and followed by little girls with thin white legs
and big goloshes on their feet, on their way to the dancing-school.

After seven o'clock there was scarcely any light in the shops, and
the streets seemed deserted. Now and then a ray of light was cast
upon the mud and puddles when the door of a tavern, where sailors and
topers quarrelled and rioted, was thrown open.

About this time the night watch would sally out of the town hall, in
order to take up its beat. It was composed generally of old seamen or
ship carpenters, who were past their work, men with hoarse, thick
voices, bent with age and hard of hearing.

They crept along very slowly, clad in long, thick, frieze coats,
bearing lanterns in their left hands, and thumping along the pavement
with their ponderous staves.

At certain appointed corners they cried out the