He did not, however, get so far as the Consul, but one of the clerks, a
stupid lout with an eyeglass, had come out and told him that he would
get no employment on a ship belonging to the firm, until he had been to
the Seamen's school, and gave up drinking. As he told his story there
was an evil glare in his eyes, which were large and bright like
Marianne's, but piercing and cruel. In the pale face there was also the
same trace of weakness as in his sister's; but Martin was tall and bony,
and his arms were strong and powerful, and he gesticulated with them as
he talked, and gave force to his words by striking the table with his
fist. He became every moment more violent, as he got heated by drink and
argument.

He was not going to the school to please Garman and Worse; and as to his
drinking, what had the young Consul got to do with that? But they should
see what he would do. And with a mighty oath, he shook his clenched fist
in the direction of Sandsgaard.

"Right you are, my boy!" cried Tom Robson, laughing; "good again. Let us
see what you are made of."

Robson was never so happy as when he could get Martin to talk himself
into a fury, which was not a very difficult task.

Ever since his childhood Martin had shown himself of a worthless and
cross-grained nature. His character at school was, that he was one of
the cleverest and at the same time the most quarrelsome among the boys,
and since then he had done nothing but fall foul of everything and
everybody he came in contact with. Martin did most of the talking of the
four, who already began to be excited by drink. It would perhaps be more