too, shall”—His excitement, his wrath, must have some vent; something must be all beaten to pieces—and so he determined to beat Yngve Vold.
The unlucky merchant was once more quite unexpectedly attacked, and this time on his own door-steps. He fled from this second lunatic into his counting-house; but Gunnar was after him. Here all the clerks rose up against this riotous intruder, who dealt kicks and blows in every direction; chairs, tables, and desks were overturned; letters, documents, and newspapers floated about like smoke; help finally came from Yngve’s pier, and after a desperate struggle Gunnar was cast out into the street. But here the fight began to be serious. Two ships lay by the pier, a foreign one and a home vessel, and it was now just at the time of noonday rest, so the sailors gladly entered into the sport. They lost no time in coming to blows, crew against crew, foreigners against natives; the crews of several vessels were sent for, and came running up in double-quick pace; working-people flocked round, and women and boys; at last no one knew what the fight was about, or against whom. In vain the skippers swore; in vain worthy citizens commanded that the one policeman of the town should be
