The orator on this occasion was a tall, handsome,
distinguished-looking young man named Alexander Kielland, from the
little coast town of Stavanger. There was none of the crudity of a
provincial either in his manners or his appearance. He spoke with a
quiet self-possession and a pithy incisiveness which were altogether
phenomenal.
"That young man will be heard from one of these days," was the unanimous
verdict of those who listened to his clear-cut and finished sentences,
and noted the maturity of his opinions.
But ten years passed, and outside of Stavanger no one ever heard of
Alexander Kielland. His friends were aware that he had studied law,
spent some winters in France, married, and settled himself as a
dignitary in his native town. It was understood that he had bought a
large brick and tile factory, and that as a manufacturer of these useful
articles he bid fair to become a provincial magnate, as his fathers had
been before him. People had almost forgotten that great things had been
expected of him, and some fancied perhaps that he had been spoiled by
prosperity.
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