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And
outside
there
the
sea
rocked
in
drowsy
rest
;
ships
and
clumsy
,
broad
-
nosed
prams
ploughed
graves
in
its
bluish
surface
,
and
scattered
rays
to
the
right
and
left
,
and
glided
on
,
whilst
the
smoke
rolled
up
in
downy
masses
from
the
chimney-stacks
,
and
the
stroke
of
the
engine
pistons
pierced
the
clammy
air
with
a
dull
sound
.
There
was
no
sun
and
no
wind
;
the
trees
behind
me
were
almost
wet
,
and
the
seat
upon
which
I
sat
was
cold
and
damp
.
Time
went
.
I
settled
down
to
doze
,
waxed
tired
,
and
a
little
shiver
ran
down
my
back
.
A
while
after
I
felt
that
my
eyelids
began
to
droop
,
and
I
let
them
droop
...
.
When
I
awoke
it
was
dark
all
around
me
.
I
started
up
,
bewildered
and
freezing
.
I
seized
my
parcel
and
commenced
to
walk
.
I
went
faster
and
faster
in
order
to
get
warm
,
slapped
my
arms
,
chafed
my
legs
--
which
by
now
I
could
hardly
feel
under
me
--
and
thus
reached
the
watch-house
of
the
fire
brigade
.
It
was
nine
o'clock
;
I
had
been
asleep
for
several
hours
.
Whatever
shall
I
do
with
myself
?
I
must
go
to
some
place
.
I
stand
there
and
stare
up
at
the
watch-house
,
and
query
if
it
would
not
be
possible
to
succeed
in
getting
into
one
of
the
passages
if
I
were
to
watch
for
a
moment
when
the
watchman
's
back
was
turned
.
I
ascend
the
steps
,
and
prepare
to
open
a
conversation
with
the
man
.
He
lifts
his
ax
in
salute
,
and
waits
for
what
I
may
have
to
say
.
The
uplifted
ax
,
with
its
edge
turned
against
me
,
darts
like
a
cold
slash
through
my
nerves
.
I
stand
dumb
with
terror
before
this
armed
man
,
and
draw
involuntarily
back
.
I
say
nothing
,
only
glide
farther
and
farther
away
from
him
.
To
save
appearances
I
draw
my
hand
over
my
forehead
,
as
if
I
had
forgotten
something
or
other
,
and
slink
away
.
When
I
reached
the
pavement
I
felt
as
much
saved
as
if
I
had
just
escaped
a
great
peril
,
and
I
hurried
away
.
Cold
and
famished
,
more
and
more
miserable
in
spirit
,
I
flew
up
Carl
Johann
.
I
began
to
swear
out
aloud
,
troubling
myself
not
a
whit
as
to
whether
any
one
heard
me
or
not
.
Arrived
at
Parliament
House
,
just
near
the
first
trees
,
I
suddenly
,
by
some
association
of
ideas
,
bethought
myself
of
a
young
artist
I
knew
,
a
stripling
I
had
once
saved
from
an
assault
in
the
Tivoli
,
and
upon
whom
I
had
called
later
on
.
I
snap
my
fingers
gleefully
,
and
wend
my
way
to
Tordenskjiolds
Street
,
find
the
door
,
on
which
is
fastened
a
card
with
C.
Zacharias
Bartel
on
it
,
and
knock
.
He
came
out
himself
,
and
smelt
so
fearfully
of
ale
and
tobacco
that
it
was
horrible
.
"
Good-evening
!
"
I
say
.
"
Good-evening
!
is
that
you
?
Now
,
why
the
deuce
do
you
come
so
late
?
It
does
n't
look
at
all
its
best
by
lamplight
.
I
have
added
a
hayrick
to
it
since
,
and
have
made
a
few
other
alterations
.
You
must
see
it
by
daylight
;
there
is
no
use
our
trying
to
see
it
now
!
"
"
Let
me
have
a
look
at
it
now
,
all
the
same
,
"
said
I
;
though
,
for
that
matter
,
I
did
not
in
the
least
remember
what
picture
he
was
talking
about
.
