A Legacy (29 page)

"To think that I had that man for dinner!"

"I always told you so," said Edu.

"Told me what?" said Sarah.

"Yet it hardly sounds like Jules, does it? Though I can't say that I find it at all unlike Gustavus."

"Your long-haired chaps," said Edu.

"This one's very soigne."

"I don't understand it any better than Narden says he does," Caroline said later when they were alone.

"It is a strange mess."

"It is horrible."

"Yes, now that one thinks of it."

"I must say something. I believe Jules tried not to for thirty years; then he tried to tell me. I didn't notice. Too absorbed. Too absorbed in my well-loved self— Too late now."

"Late is the word," said Sarah.

"Oh Sarah—how could it happen?"

"Well you do know who's to blame?"

"All of us, Sarah."

"The Bernins."

Caroline sighed.

"Do you know why Bernin never married?"

"I wondered."

"And I do believe he wanted sons badly. They say he has been keeping himself eligible for the Church. In case —for what a Red Hat can lead to."

"No?"

"I'm not altogether sorry Bernin is being shown up now for what he is."

"Are they talking about the Bernins?"

"Everywhere."

The Fortschritt leaders gave rise to one of the few altruistic gestures during this affair. Within the next days Julius and Gustavus each received several hundred letters from unknown Army officers of all ranks offering to call out Quintus Narden on their behalf. Julius's were opened by Caroline who wondered whether acknowledgements— printed cards?—were not in order; some of Gustavus's found their way to the authorities. Someone acted with promptness, and commanding officers everywhere had to instruct their gentlemen that Herr Narden was not of duellable status. (Narden, when he heard of it, professed himself amused by his Untouchable's position and poured much scorn on the 300 Mandarin Lieutenants in his column, inflaming many an honest bourgeois' heart.)

"Friedrich, what's the news?"

Friedrich Merz flung a bundle of papers on the table. "Riots at Hamburg, riots at Leipzig, dockers' strike threatened at Kiel. They're insisting on Corporal Schaale's having a civilian trial, and the Army won't give in."

"That's always so hard for them," said Caroline.

"A trial by jury for manslaughter."

"Schaale's become a ruddy hero," said Edu.

"Riots at Bremen, riots at Dresden, paving stones thrown at the police at Stuttgart, riots at Karlsruhe—no those aren't for the Corporal; it's Faithful George they want down there."

"The Army must give in," said Markwald shrilly.

"I thought Clara had the poor fellow out by now?" said Caroline.

"My dear lady," said Friedrich, "there isn't the man in Germany today who'd dare lift a hand for Clara Bernin Felden."

"He sent me Foxy. When I was a tiny baby. My uncle's orderly, Faithful George. He came in a box. You remember Foxy, Uncle Edu?"

Edu, in whose house the animal had spent its life span, said, "Oh yes, Foxy ... By Jove, did he? What? Faithful George? How?'*

"Henrietta?"

"What are you doing here?"

"Who told you?"

"Surtout pas devant —"

"My poor Emil, the child's French is so much better than yours," said Sarah.

"Your uncle sent you a dog?" said Caroline.

"Only I didn't know it. And it wasn't my uncle. He couldn't, you see." Henrietta's features were very Merz, but her manner of speaking was Jules's, with something of her grandmother's in it too, and Caroline now saw this.

"But you like dogs?" she said, and she had the sensation that her own life also had come to an end.

"We cannot have a revolution because the Army has to have their face saved," said Markwald.

Sarah said, "We really don't want you here."

"Very well," said Henrietta, "I shall go and see Gottlieb."

"That's what all the reasonable people are saying," said Friedrich.

Caroline said to Sarah, "That boy must have been her age then— Jules's brother."

"They'll never give in," Sarah said, "and they wouldn't mind putting down a revolution."

"Where would that leave us?" said Friedrich.

"Oh, quite."

"The Government's got to do something."

"The Government?" said Sarah. "I wouldn't give the Government a week."

"Surely the Corporal would also be acquitted by a court martial?" said Caroline.

"The people don't think so."

"Not with Putnitz's evidence."

"There's someone whose shoes I shouldn't want to be in."

"They want to tear him limb from limb."

"Someone more unpopular than us?" said Caroline.

"He denies having cried out for help."

"Berlin is quiet. So far."

"Berlin has got the evening papers."

"Is nothing going to be done about those?"

"Apparently not."

Quintus Narden had left fat pickings to the tabloids.

"I'd no idea Nelly was as rich as that," Jeanne said to Sarah. "I knew she had done well. But—real estate avenue du Bois de Boulogne . . ."

"Very likely lies."

" 'One of the most prominent figures of the half-world thirty years ago/ She was that."

"Thirty years is cruel," said Sarah.

"And unjust. She outlasted La Paiva."

"Well, she doesn't have to live here."

"My old friend has been successful."

"Of course they have got it all wrong; to my certain

knowledge Jules hasn't set eyes on Madame de la T

these fifteen years. And there was never any question of marrying her. You remember, there was the quiet widow with the child the old people were so upset about? I wish to God now he had married her. What was her name?" "I never knew," said Jeanne. "Dupont! The mysterious Madame Dupont." Jeanne could still blush. "Nelly de la Turbie's real name is Dupont. You see one used to take these fancy names at that time; I believe it's going out, only the stage do now." "So she almost did live here! The mills of fate. Think of her ending at Voss Strasse."

"Not her," said Jeanne. "It would have been the end of Voss Strasse as far as Jules's concerned."

"Mills of fate again," said Sarah. "And the child—?" "That was quite a business; she thought she was in love then. The child is the Spanish Count's. Not Jules's."

Narden made no further allusion to the Feldens' private affairs in the Fortschritt, but the morning after episodes from Julius's French life had appeared in other papers he mentioned that the Foreign Office had offered a secretaryship at the Embassy in Paris to the Baron in such and such a year, and that it had been turned down. In the Civil Services where promotion functioned like slow clockwork and Unterministerialdirektoren and Regirungsrate sat ticking off the assiduous years, this glimpse created more concentrated bad blood than anything that had gone before. No plodder had ever liked Bernin, now opposition to the Count became open, solid, almost dedicated.

Julius and Gustavus had not seen each other yet. Julius was kept in by his cold and asthma, and with Clara absent the brothers seemed to be bereft of means or need of communication. This weighed on Caroline.

"He never comes here," said Sarah.

"Gustavus? Oh, good Lord."

"And it's not such a pleasure going out these days."

"Don't tell me they both stay in?" said Caroline.

"Very likely. Men mind so much more."

"Poor Jules, he thinks he is an insect turned into a brown leaf. So transparent."

"But alone."

"Oh yes, quite alone. Poor Jules."

"They must get it over. You know, their meeting," said Sarah.

"I don't know what it is between Jules and Gustavus. Jules was almost lightheaded that night on the train. . . . And how I wish they'd have the funeral."

"That will make a difference."

"It will help Jules."

"He won't go," said Sarah.

"But he must."

"Nothing we do or don't matters a scrap now."

Caroline said, "Sarah, tell me this, is it—is Jules like this because he has been living with the Merzes for so long?"

"No," said Sarah.

"I don't want to understand it," said Caroline.

"You were very good at understanding in Paris."

"Don't let us speak of Paris."

"Your Monet is still there."

"I cannot believe it."

"Don't change," Sarah said passionately.

"I'm not very good without— Not very good by myself," said Caroline.

Sarah got up and went to a window, a thing she always did in her own houses. The window gave on to the courtyard, and all the windows were the wrong size at Voss Strasse.

"This is only a kind of crisis?" Caroline said with a lapse into her younger voice. "Sarah, isn't it?"

Sarah turned to her, but without seeing. "Crisis? There

are no crises. It's all a chain, a long chain. Oh yes—it will pass, this crisis."

"It was the wrong question," said Caroline.

"Twelve gentlemen to see Herr Geheimrat."

"What do they want?"

"Desire was indicated to impart this themselves, sir."

"Twelve?" said Grandmama.

"A deputation, ma'am."

"Will they've had luncheon?"

"After a fashion, ma'am."

"Gottlieb, what is all this?" said Friedrich.

"The Israelite Retail-Trade Association of Greater Berlin, sir."

"Why not say so at once."

"I did not believe it was material, sir."

"I will see them," said Friedrich.

"Send them away," said Markwald.

"Show 'em in," said Grandpapa.

"I understand they wished to see Herr Geheimrat by himself."

"Here we all are," said Grandpapa.

"They don't want us to get up," said his wife.

"Perhaps / should," Caroline said, doing so. "I believe you are right, Baronin," said Fraulein von Reventlow, and followed her. Gottlieb held a door for them. The deputation filed in by another. They carried their tophats and looked round respectfully.

"Herr Geheimrat! Frau Geheimrat! Gentlemen!"

" 'Morning," said Grandpapa.

The head man plucked a document from his coat.

"Why is he reading to us?" said Grandmama.

"An address, ma'am," hissed Gottlieb.

A member corrected him, "A petition."

"Can't understand a word he's saying—"

"Speak up," said Grandpapa.

"The volume is not at fault," said Gottlieb.

"We*re compromising — ?"

"The community, ma'am."

"Community — V

"Of interests."

"Ah yes."

"We are not in retail history," Emil whispered to Mark-wald.

"We have touched pitch."

"Interfering asses," said Emil.

"Harbouring — ?" said Grandmama.

"A form of invitation, ma'am."

"Assim—f assim 1*

"Assimilationists."

"Must be one of those semi-precious stones . . . very unsatisfactory. Implicate — t Co-religionists — ? Shipwreck — V

"Hush, ma'am; they would like us to listen."

"Why don't they sit down?"

"Did we ask them?" muttered Emil.

"Gentiles — ? Where?"

"Ma'am . . ."

"Eliminate — ?"

"Kick out," supplied Markwald.

"That's what I mean," said a member of the deputation, "let goy eat goy."

"WHERE—?" cried Grandmama.

"Moritz Bluhmenthal!"

"Herr Geheimrat?"

"I knew your father before he had a pot to piss in."

"Oh Herr Geheimrat."

"Were you by any chance referring to my son-in-law?"

"Well, Herr Geheimrat—"

"Go home, my boy, and mind your own business. And you can tell the same from me to the community."

"Papa—"

"I have my family live with me if I please, and," the old man looked about with satisfaction, "I send packing whom I please."

"Yes sir, of course sir, only— We shall all be suffering for

this, we know we shall . . ."

"True words," muttered Markwald.

"Merz & Merz among the martyrs," said Emil.

Questions began being raised; once again Count Bernin's hand was discernible; the awkward problem of Johannes's funeral was met by an unannounced quiet burial at Sig-mundshofen. There were present, besides Clara, Gustavus and the priest, two officers from Johannes's regiment, Faithful George and a number of elderly villagers from Landen who remembered him as a boy. The Foreign Secretary, detained by the state visit of the Crown Prince of Bulgaria, had been unable to leave Berlin. The private character of the ceremony was afterwards derided as weakness on the part of the Army; there remained, however, the unspoken face-saver that it had been due to the wishes of the family.

Three days later Corporal Schaale escaped.

The Kaiser cancelled his yachting trip; the long-awaited interpellation took place in the Reichstag; and on that night there were crowds demonstrating outside both the War Ministry and the Wilhelmstrasse. The Government was expected to fall in the morning.

"What if he did just manage to make off on his own? Things do happen that way. I should have tried to in his place, and nothing surprises me about that colonel."

"The country must be in very bad hands," said Markwald.

"No authority," said Friedrich.

"I shouldn't have said that," said Caroline.

"Ladies are born anarchists."

Clara was back, and Caroline went to her on that afternoon. It was round the corner but she drove there in the Merzes' landau. The entrance was thronged and there were a few jeers at a woman in her kind of clothes. She was

shown into the same upper room in which, a little more than a year ago, Clara had asked her to let herself be helped. She had not seen Clara since her own marriage ceremony, and she felt that it was she now who had come to proffer something to that worn and upright figure. Gustavus was there.

She made her apologies for Julius. "I should have liked to have gone myself," she said.

"You did not know him. There was no need."

Gustavus said, "Do sit down, Clara."

Clara ignored this.

Caroline, on what was actually a horrid little chair, came as near self-consciousness as she ever could. She felt too smart, small, young.