But the speaker was bound to come to an end; nobody had any objections to make; his speech had no result whatever; it was exactly as if it had never been made.
The chief clerk, who during this interval had had time to go to his offices, look at the official papers, and poke his fires, was again in his place, reading: "72. Memorial of the Royal Commission on Per Ilsson's motion to grant ten thousand crowns for the restoration of the old sculptures in the church of Träskola."
The dog's head on the rail of the strangers' gallery assumed a threatening aspect; he looked as if he were going to fight for his bone.
"Do you know the freak up there in the gallery?" asked the Red Cap.
"Olle Montanus, yes, I know him."
"Do you know that he and the church of Träskola are countrymen? He's a shrewd fellow! Look at the expression on his face now that Träskola's turn has come."
Per Ilsson was speaking.
Struve contemptuously turned his back on the speaker and cut himself a piece of tobacco. But Falk and the Red Cap trimmed their pencils for action.
"You take the flourishes, I'll take the facts," said the Red Cap.
After the lapse of a quarter of an hour Falk's paper was covered with the following notes.