Night Games: And Other Stories and Novellas (8 page)

Willi remained silent. He was most painfully touched and uncertain
as to how he should react. Of course, if Wimmer or Greising had been in
his place, they would have found the right thing to say. But he, Willi, had
to keep quiet. He didn't dare ask, "What do you mean, Consul, by `far
down,' and what do you mean by 'inquire'?" Oh, he could imagine what
was meant. He himself was just now as low, as low as it was possible to
be, lower than he could ever have imagined a couple of hours ago.

He now depended on the mood, on the good graces, on the mercy of
this man, however low he might once have been. Would he be merciful?
That was the question. Would he agree to be paid in installments over a
year's time-or over a period of five years-or to a revenge match next
Sunday? It didn't look likely-no, at the moment it didn't look very
likely at all. And-if he were not to be merciful-hmm, then there would
be nothing left for him to do but to go begging to Uncle Robert. StillUncle Robert! It would be a most painful, a truly frightening endeavor,
but nonetheless he would have to do it. Absolutely ... and it was really
unthinkable that his uncle would refuse to help him when his career, his
existence, his very life-yes, truly, the very life of his nephew, the only
son of his deceased sister, stood in the balance. A man who lived on his
income, lived quite modestly, to be sure, but was nevertheless a capitalist
who had merely to take the money out of the bank! Eleven thousand
gulden-that certainly wasn't even a tenth, not even a twentieth, of his
fortune! Actually, he might just as well ask him for twelve as for eleven
thousand gulden-what did it matter? If he did, Bogner would also be
saved. This thought immediately made Willi feel more hopeful, as though Providence had the obligation to reward him for his noble intentions. In any case, he wouldn't have to resort to any of that unless the
consul remained obstinate. And that wasn't certain yet. Willi threw a
quick sideways glance at his companion. He seemed to be lost in memories. His hat was lying on the blanket, his lips were half open, as though
about to break into a smile, and he looked older and less severe than before. Wasn't this the right moment? But how to begin? Should he confess
that he just wasn't in a position-that he had thoughtlessly let himself get
into a situation-that he had lost his head; that indeed, for a quarter of an
hour he had not been capable of thinking at all? And also-would he
have gone as far, would he have forgot himself so completely, if the consul-yes, he could mention this-if the consul had not, unasked, indeed
without the slightest hint from him, placed the money at his disposalpushed it over to him, in a certain sense forced it on him, though in the
most amiable way possible?

"A ride like this in the early morning is quite wonderful, don't you
think?" observed the consul.

"Splendid," replied the lieutenant conversationally.

"It's a pity that the price for such a ride seems to be staying up all
night, whether at a gaming table or at something even more stupid."

"Well, in my case," observed the lieutenant quickly, "it frequently
happens that I'm up and about outdoors at this early hour of the morning,
even without staying up all night. Day before yesterday, for example, I
was already standing in the courtyard of the barracks with my companions at half past three in the morning. We were drilling in the Prater. But
of course I wasn't riding in a carriage then."

The consul laughed heartily, which raised Willi's hopes, even
though the laughter sounded somewhat forced.

"Yes, I've occasionally experienced something like that myself,"
said the consul, "of course not as an officer, not even as an enlisted
man-I never got even that far. Just think, Lieutenant, I did my three
years' service in my time and never made it beyond the rank of corporal.
I'm such an uneducated person-or at least I was. Well, I've caught up a
little during the passage of time. Travel brings opportunities to do that."

"You've seen much of the world," remarked Willi ingratiatingly.

"Indeed I have!" replied the consul. "I've been almost everywhere-except in the country that I represent as consul, Ecuador. But
I've decided to give up my title of consul in the near future and to travel
there." He laughed, and Willi joined in, though a little wearily.

They were driving through a flat and wretched area, among uniformly grey and drab dilapidated houses. In a little front yard an old man
in shirtsleeves was watering the bushes while a young woman in a rather
shabby dress was just coming out into the street with a full canister of
milk from the door of a shop that had opened early. Willi felt a certain
envy of these two, of the old man who was watering his garden and the
woman who was bringing milk home for her husband and her children.
He knew that these two were happier than he was. The carriage passed a
high, bleak building in front of which a soldier walked back and forth.
He saluted the lieutenant, who reciprocated more politely than he usually
did men of lower rank. The way the consul looked at this building, at
once contemptuous and full of memories, made Willi think. Yet how
could it help him at this moment that the consul's past in all likelihood
was not exactly free from stain? Gambling debts were gambling debts,
and even a convicted criminal had the right to insist on payment. Time
was passing and the horses trotted faster and faster; in an hour, in half an
hour they would be in Vienna-and what then?

"And creatures such as this Lieutenant Greising," said the consul,
as though to end an inner conversation, "are allowed to run around free."

So I was right, thought Willi. This man has been in prison. But at
this moment that did not matter-the consul's remark constituted an incontrovertible insult of an absent comrade. Could he just let it pass as
though he had barely overheard it, or as though he tacitly agreed?

"I must beg you, Consul, to leave my comrade Greising out of this
discussion!"

To this the consul only answered with a deprecatory gesture. "It's
really remarkable," he said, "how these gentlemen who stand so strictly
on their professional honor tolerate a person in their midst who, with
complete consciousness of what he does, endangers the health of another,
a silly, inexperienced girl, for example, and makes such a creature ill,
possibly kills her-"

"We have no knowledge of anything like that," answered Willi,
somewhat hoarse by now. "At least I don't know about anything like
that."

"But Lieutenant, I have absolutely no interest in reproaching you.
You personally are not responsible for these things, and it's absolutely
not in your power to change them."

Willi sought vainly for a reply. He reflected whether he was duty
bound to bring the consul's remarks to his comrade's attention-perhaps
he should first talk this over unofficially with the regiment doctor,
Tugut? Or should he perhaps ask First Lieutenant Wimmer for advice?
But what did all this have to do with him? His main concern right now
was for himself, for his particular problem-his career-his life! There
in the first sunbeams stood the monument of the Weaver at the Cross.
And still he hadn't spoken the words that might have served to gain him
an extension, a little extension. Suddenly he felt his neighbor touch his
arm lightly.

"Excuse me, Lieutenant, but let's drop the subject. It's at bottom no
concern of mine whether Lieutenant Greising or anyone else-all the
more so since I will hardly have the pleasure of sitting down at a table
with these gentlemen again."

Willi started.

"What do you mean, Herr Consul?"

"I'm leaving the country," the consul answered coolly.

"So soon?"

"Yes. The day after tomorrow-more precisely: tomorrow, Tuesday."

"For a long time, Consul?"

"Rather-for three-to thirty years."

The highway was now filled with trucks and market wagons. Willi,
looking down, saw the golden buttons of his military cape gleam in the
rays of the rising sun.

"A sudden decision, Consul, this departure?"

"Oh, not at all, Lieutenant. A long-standing decision. I am leaving
for America, not for Ecuador at the moment but for Baltimore, where my
family lives and where I also have a business. Of course, I've not been able to supervise either of these personally for the eight years I've been
gone."

So he has a family, thought Willi. And what about Fraulein Rihoscheck? Does she even know that he's leaving? But what concern of
mine is that? It's high time. I'm choking. And involuntarily he put his
hand to his throat.

"Well, it's very unfortunate," he said helplessly, "that you intend to
leave tomorrow. For I was expecting, yes, I was expecting with some
confidence"-he took on a light, somewhat jocular tone-"that you
would give me the opportunity for a little revenge next Sunday."

The consul shrugged his shoulders, as though this had long been beyond the realm of possibility.

What am I going to do? thought Willi. What'll I do? Just-beg him?
What can a few thousand gulden mean to him? He has a family in America-and Fraulein Rihoscheck-he has a business over there-what can
a few thousand gulden mean to him? But for me they're a matter of life
or death!

They drove under the viaduct into the city. A train was just pulling
out of the South Station. Here are people going to Baden, thought Willi,
and further, to Klagenfurth, to Trieste-and from there perhaps across
the ocean to another hemisphere.... And he envied them all.

"Where can I drop you, Lieutenant?"

"Oh, please," answered Willi, "anywhere you want. I live in the
Alser Barracks."

"I'll bring you to your door, Lieutenant." He gave the coachman the
necessary directions.

"Thanks a lot, sir, it really isn't necessary...."

The houses were all still asleep. The streetcar tracks, still untouched
by the traffic of the day, ran smooth and gleaming alongside. The consul
looked at his watch.

"He drove well-an hour and ten minutes. Do you have a maneuver
today, Lieutenant?"

"No," answered Willi, "today I'm to teach a class."

"Well, then you can still lie down for a while."

"So I will, consul, but I believe I'll take the day off-I'll report myself sick."

The consul nodded and said nothing.

"So you are leaving on Wednesday, sir?"

"No, Lieutenant," answered the consul, emphasizing every word,
"tomorrow. Tuesday evening."

"Consul-I'll frankly confess to you-it's extremely embarrassing
to me, but I fear that it'll be totally impossible for me in such a short
time-before tomorrow at 12 o'clock noon ..."

The consul remained silent. He seemed hardly to be listening.

"If, sir, you would be so kind as to give me a respite?"

The consul shook his head.

"Oh, not a very long one. I could perhaps give you a promissory
note or a confirmation, and would give you my word of honor that within
fourteen days I could find a way ..." The consul kept shaking his head,
mechanically, without any emotion.

"Consul," began Willi again, and against his will it sounded like
pleading, "Consul, my uncle, Robert Wilram-maybe you know the
name?" But the other continued to shake his head firmly. "I am not absolutely certain that my uncle, on whom I can otherwise positively rely,
has such a sum at hand. But of course, within a few days ... he is a
wealthy man, my mother's only brother, retired, living on his income."
And suddenly, with a queer catch in his voice which sounded like a
laugh: "It's really disastrous that you're going as far away as America so
soon!"

"Where I travel, Lieutenant," answered the consul calmly, "is of absolutely no concern to you. It's common knowledge that debts of honor
are to be paid within twenty-four hours!"

"I know. Consul, I know. But still it sometimes happens-I personally know some among my comrades who, in a similar position ... It depends entirely upon you, Consul, whether you are willing to content
yourself with a promissory note or my word of honor for the moment
until-until next Sunday at least."

"I am not willing to be satisfied that way, Lieutenant. Tomorrow, Tuesday at noon, that's the latest-or-notification to the commander of
your regiment!"

The carriage crossed over the Ring and passed by the Volksgarten,
whose treetops hung down in rich, green foliage over the gilded fence. It
was a glorious spring morning. Hardly a person was yet to be seen on the
street. Only a young, very elegant woman in a high-collared, tailored
coat was walking rapidly along the gilded fence with a small dog, as if in
fulfillment of a duty, and threw an indifferent glance toward the consul,
who turned around after her, despite the wife in America and Fraulein Rihoscheck in Baden, who, admittedly, really belonged more to the actor
Elrief. What business of mine is Elrief, thought Willi, and why should I
worry about Fraulein Rihoscheck? Who knows, had I been nicer to her,
perhaps she would have put in a good word for me. And for a moment he
considered seriously whether he shouldn't ride back to Baden at once in
order to beg for her intercession. Intercession with the consul? She
would laugh in his face. She knew him well, after all, the consul, it was
evident that she knew him.... And the only possibility of salvation was
Uncle Robert. That was certain. Otherwise there was nothing left for him
except a bullet in the head. That was clear.

A steady sound like that of the approaching steps of a marching column of men struck his ear. Wasn't the 98th having a drill today? On the
Bisamberg? It would be embarrassing for him to meet his comrades at
the head of the company now while he was in a carriage. But it was not a
military troop that was marching toward him; it was only a group of
boys, evidently schoolboys, on an outing with their teacher. The teacher,
a pale young man, looked with instinctive respect at the two gentlemen
in a carriage driving past him at such an early hour. Willi had never expected there would come a moment in which even a poor schoolteacher
would seem to him a creature worthy of envy. Then the carriage overtook
the first streetcar, whose only passengers were a man in work clothes and
an old woman. A street-cleaning wagon came toward them with a wildlooking fellow in rolled-up shirtsleeves on top who was swinging a hose
like a rubber band to and fro, spraying the street. Two nuns with lowered
eyes crossed the tracks in the direction of the Votiv Church, whose slim
light grey steeples pointed toward the sky. On a bench beneath a tree covered with white blossoms sat a young creature with dirty shoes, her
straw hat in her lap, smiling as if after a pleasant experience. A closed
carriage with drawn curtains whizzed past. A fat old woman was polishing the high windowpane of a cafe with a brush and cloth. All these people and things, which Willi normally would not have noticed, now
assumed an almost painfully sharp clarity in his overalert gaze. The man
beside him in the carriage had almost vanished in his mind. Now he
looked at him again with a shy glance. The consul sat leaning back with
closed eyes, his hat in front of him on the blanket. How gentle, how kindhearted he looked! And he-was driving him to his death! Was he really
sleeping-or only pretending? Don't worry, Consul, I won't bother you
any more. You'll have your money Tuesday at twelve. Or maybe not! But
in no case ... The carriage stopped in front of the barrack gates, and the
consul awoke at once-or at least he pretended to have just awakened,
even going so far as to rub his eyes, a somewhat exaggerated gesture
after a two-and-a-half-minute nap. The guard at the gate saluted. Willi
leapt deftly from the carriage without touching the running board and
smiled at the consul. He even gave the coachman a tip, not too much, not
too little, like a cavalier to whom gaming losses or winnings meant nothing.