Journey Through the Impossible (5 page)

The great hall of a Danish castle' in Saxon architectural style. Doors at the
back and at the left. On the right, an organ stands against the wall. It is
night. Mme de Traventhal3 is sitting at the left, working at a tapestry. Eva
is sitting at a table, leafing through maps and books.

Eva: Here they are, the travel books and maps that poor George is
always looking through. The pages are covered with notes that
show only too clearly how disturbed his mind is. Look, grandma!
There are pencil marks everywhere, scrawled in a shaky handwriting. These travelers discovered the remotest regions of our
globe and risked their lives to explore them from one pole to the
other. But that would not have satisfied George's ambition. Look
at these words written in the margin: "Onward! Farther! Still farther!" Ah! George will never find peace of mind again.

Mme de Traventhal: Eva, my dear girl, you mustn't give up hope.
George loves you and he knows you love him. He's never known
any family but ours since the misfortune that befell his father, who
went insane in the course of his ambitious undertakings. But it's
nearly twenty years now that George has been living with us in
Andernak Castle. Under our care, he'll eventually control his
overactive imagination. He'll understand that happiness is to be
found here, in family life, and God will do the rest.

Eva: Let's hope so, grandma, let's hope so.

Mme de Traventhal: But it's important to me that he should never
know who his parents were.

Eva: The son of Captain Hatteras,4 the bold explorer who reached the
North Pole, and came back only to end his days in a mental hospital. Oh, you're right! George must never know! His mind is
already overwrought, and that knowledge might prove fatal to
him.

Mme de Traventhal: Where is he now, the poor boy? What kind of
a night did he have?

Eva: Still very restless. Our old friend Niels told me he paced up and
down in his room for a long time, muttering incoherently. Everything in his mind is expressed in the words: "Onward! Farther
still!" What can be done? Couldn't we consult a doctor?

Mme de Traventhal: I've thought of that. But just to make sure
George won't know we're worried about him, the doctor will
come to see me.

Eva: To see you?

Mme de Traventhal: Yes, I'm expecting him this morning. I asked
that nice Mr. Tartelets to call him.

Eva: Mr. Tartelet?

Mme de Traventhal: He seemed so happy to be able to do a favor
for us.

Eva: Yes, he's a fine man. When he came here from Paris he had no
letters of recommendation and no money. He said he was a
dancing teacher.

Mme de Traventhal: A teacher of dancing and deportment, he said.

Eva: You made him welcome. In fact, you gave him a home, and since
no one here has any interest in dancing....

Mme de Traventhal: He stayed with us as a friend.

Eva: But a very worried friend, grandma, very tormented.

Mme de Traventhal: Why so?

Eva: It upsets his sensitive nature to be paid a salary when no one
comes to his classes.

Mme de Traventhal: Good! But he's almost one of the family now,
isn't he?

(Enter Tartelet by a side door; carrying his violin under his arm)

Tartelet: Here I am, ladies.

Mme de Traventhal: Ah! Mr. Tartelet. Well?

Tartelet: The famous doctor will be here in a moment.

Mme de Traventhal: Many thanks, Mr. Tartelet.

Tartelet: Will there be anything else, ma'am?

Mme de Traventhal (surprised): Anything else? What do you mean?

Tartelet: Is there any other little thing you might want me to do?

Eva: Want you to do, Mr. Tartelet?

Tartelet: Yes, miss, yes. You mustn't think that all I can do is dance
entrechats and scrape the violin. An old bachelor like me, forced
to fend for himself, has to know how to do many little odd jobs. I
can repair damaged furniture, mend valuable porcelain, sew on
buttons. If need be, I can even do a little laundry.

Eva (laughing): You do laundry, Mr. Tartelet?

Tartelet: Yes, miss, but unfortunately, I know nothing about ironing.

Mm de Traventhal: Set your mind at rest, my dear Mr. Tartelet. We
feel your affection for us ... and ... (holding out her hand) and
that's enough for us.

Tartelet: That's enough for you.... It's enough for you, ma'am, but
not enough for me. Every morning I arrive on time for my lesson,
but-I never teach my lesson. And you still pay me.

Eva: Well, what if I don't feel like having a lesson?

Tartelet: In that case, miss, I ought not to feel like accepting a fee for
it. For six months now I've been living in this castle. At the rate of
one lesson a day, that makes one hundred and eighty lessons that
I haven't taught. At two crowns a lesson, it adds up to a total of
three hundred and sixty crowns that I've received, and which I
now have the honor, ma'am, of returning to you. (He takes his
purse out of his pocket.)

Eva: Please put that away, you naughty man.

Mme de Traventhal: Mr. Tartelet, I thought you considered yourself
our friend.

Tartelet: I, your friend? That is a great honor, ma'am. I would be
very glad, but-I wouldn't want to be paid two crowns a day for
being your friend.

Mme de Traventhal: It's an advance on what we'll have to pay you later.

Tartelet: Later? I don't understand.

Mme de Traventhal: Well, for your future pupils.

Tartelet: My future pupils? I still don't understand.

Mme de Traventhal: But it's very simple. You know that George and
Eva are engaged, and will be married some day-very soon perhaps-and later on (lowering her voice)-don't you see? A whole
class of pretty little pupils.

Tartelet: Ali! Yes, yes, I see. I understand. Take young children in
infancy, teach them to position their pretty little feet correctly as
soon as they come into the world. Develop their charm in childhood to make sure they will also be charming as adolescentswhat a joy that would be, what a dream, what happiness!

Mme de Traventhal: That dream will come true, Mr. Tartelet. So
you see, you can't leave us. And besides, what would you do? Go
back to Paris and try to find work?

Tartelet: To Paris? Oh no, ma'am, no! No one dances there any
more. All they do is jump around.

Eva: They jump around?

Tartelet: Yes, miss, they do. And not only in the salons. They jump
around in the banks, at the stock exchange, everywhere. We even
have talented choreographers, famous dancers themselves, who
get the prefects and ministers jumping around.

Mme de Traventhal: What's this you're telling us?

Eva: That means there's no more dancing in Paris.

Tartelet: In Paris, miss, in Paris, the only kind of dancing they know
is the money dance.

Eva: Sh! Here comes George.

(Enter George stage left, looking sad and thoughtful. Without seeing
anyone, he sits down at the table and leafs idly through the open books
lying there)

Eva (aside): Oh! My poor darling!

Mme de Traventhal: You're right. He's more depressed than ever.

George (placing his hands on the maps): Here's where they went, those
incredible heroes, into the bowels of the earth, to the depths of
the sea, through outer space! Lidenbrok,6 Nemo,7 Ardan," where
no one had ever set foot before. And that other one, Captain Hatteras, conqueror of the North Pole. Some mysterious attraction draws me even more closely to him. I feel strong enough to equal
them, maybe even surpass them, but I've done nothing yetnothing!