Hanns Heinz Ewers Alraune (30 page)

“She plays–she’s playing with me!” grated the
professor.

Once, as she stood up from the table he
grabbed her hand. He knew exactly what he wanted to say, word for
word–yet forgot it instantly. He got angry at himself, even angrier
at the haughty look the girl gave him.

Quickly, violently, he sprang up, twisted her
arm around and threw her screaming down onto the divan. She
fell–but was back on her feet again before he could get to her. She
laughed, laughed so shrilly and loudly that it hurt his ears. Then
without a word she stepped out of the room.

She stayed in her rooms, wouldn’t come out
for tea, not to dinner. She was not seen for days. He pleaded at
her door–said nice things to her, implored and begged. But she
wouldn’t come out. He pushed letters in to her, swore and promised
her more and still more, but she didn’t answer.

One day after he had whimpered for hours
before her door she finally opened it.

“Be quiet,” she said. “It bothers me–what do
you want?”

He asked for forgiveness, said it had been a
sudden attack, that he had lost control over his senses–

She spoke quietly, “You lie!”

Then he let all masks fall, told her how he
desired her, how he couldn’t breathe without her around, told her
that he loved her.

She laughed out loud at him but agreed to
negotiate and made her conditions. He still searched here and there
trying to find ways to get an advantage.

“Once, just once a week she should come
dressed as a boy–”

“No,” she cried. “Any day if I want to–or not
at all if I don’t want to.”

That was when he knew he had lost and from
that day on he was the Fräulein’s slave, without a will of his own.
He was her obedient hound, whimpering around her, eating the crumbs
that she deliberately knocked off the table for him. She allowed
him to run around in his own home like an old mangy animal that
lived on charity–only because no one cared enough to kill it.

She gave him her commands, “Purchase flowers,
buy a motorboat. Invite these gentlemen on this day and these
others on the next. Bring down my purse.”

He obeyed and felt richly rewarded when she
suddenly came down dressed as an Eton boy with a high hat and large
round collar, or if she stretched out her little patent leather
shoes so he could tie the silk laces.

Sometimes when he was alone he would wake up.
He would slowly lift his ugly head, shake it back and forth and
brood about what had happened. Hadn’t he become accustomed to rule
for generations? Wasn’t his will law in the house of ten
Brinken?

To him it was as if a tumor had swelled up in
the middle of his brain and crushed his thoughts or some poisonous
insect had crawled in through his ears or nose and stung him. Now
it whirled around right in front of his face, mockingly buzzed in
front of his eyes–why didn’t he kill it?

He got half way up, struggling with
resolution.

“This must come to an end,” he murmured.

But he forgot everything as soon as he saw
her. Then his eyes opened, his ears grew sharp, listening for the
rustle of her silk. Then his mighty nose sniffed the air greedily,
taking in the fragrance of her body, making his old fingers
tremble, making him lick the spittle from his lips with his
tongue.

All of his senses crept toward her, eagerly,
lecherously, poisonously, filled with loathsome vices and
perversions–that was the strong cord on which she held him.

Herr Sebastian Gontram came out to Lendenich
and found the Privy Councilor in the library.

“You have got to be careful,” he said. “We
are going to have a lot of trouble getting things back in order.
You should be a little more concerned about it, your
Excellency.”

“I have no time,” answered the Privy
Councilor.

“That’s not good enough,” said Herr Gontram
quietly. “You must have some time for this. You haven’t taken care
of anything this past week, just let everything go. Be careful your
Excellency, it could cost you dearly.”

“Ok,” sneered the Privy Councilor. “What is
it then?”

“I just wrote you about it,” answered the
Legal Councilor. “But it seems you don’t read my letters any more.
The former director of the Wiesbaden museum has written a brochure,
as you know, in which he has made all kinds of assertions. For that
he was brought in front of the court. He moved to have the pieces
in question examined by experts. Now the commission has examined
your pieces and for the most part they have been declared
forgeries. All the newspapers are full of it. The accused will
certainly be acquitted.”

“Let him be,” said the Privy Councilor.

“That’s all right with me, your Excellency,
if that is what you want!” Gontram continued, “But he has already
filed a new suit against you with the District Attorney and the
authorities must act on it.

By the way, that is not everything, not by
far. In the Gerstenberger foundry bankruptcy case the bankruptcy
administrator has placed an accusation against you on the basis of
several documents. You are being accused of concealing financial
records, swindling and cheating. A similar accusation has been
filed, as you know, by the Karpen brickworks.

Finally Attorney Kramer, representing the
tinsmith Hamecher, has succeeded in having the District Attorney’s
office order a medical examination of his little daughter.

“The child lies,” cried the professor. “She
is a hysterical brat.”

“All the better,” nodded the Legal Councilor.
“Then your innocence will surely come out.”

“A little more distant there is a lawsuit by
the merchant Matthiesen for damages and reimbursements of fifty
thousand Marks that comes with another accusation of fraud.

In a new lawsuit in the case of Plutus
manufacturing the opposing attorney is charging you with
falsification of documents and has declared as well that he wants
to take the necessary steps to bring it into criminal court.

You see, your Excellency, how the cases
multiply when you don’t come into the office for a long time.
Scarcely a day goes by without something new being filed.”

“Are you finished yet?” the Privy Councilor
asked.

“No,” said Herr Gontram calmly, “absolutely
not. Those were only some little flowers from the beautiful bouquet
that is waiting for you in the city. I advise your Excellency,
insist that you come in. Don’t take these things so lightly.”

But the Privy Councilor answered, “I told you
already that I don’t have any time. You really shouldn’t bother me
with these trifles and just leave me alone.”

The Legal Councilor rose up, put his
documents in his leather portfolio and closed it slowly.

“As you will, your Excellency,” he said. “By
the way, do you know there is a rumor these days that the
Műhlhelmer credit bank is going to stop payments?”

“Nonsense,” he replied. “In any case I’ve
scarcely put any money into it.”

“You haven’t?” asked Herr Gontram, a little
surprised. “For half a year now you have kept that institution on a
sound financial basis with over eleven million. You did it to gain
tighter control of the potash industry! I, myself, was obliged to
sell Princess Wolkonski’s mines to fund the cause.”

His Excellency ten Brinken nodded, “The
princess–well yes–am I the princess?”

The Legal Councilor rocked his head
thoughtfully.

“She will lose her money,” he murmured.

“What’s that to me,” cried the Privy
Councilor. “Anyway, we will see what can be saved.”

He stood up, drummed on the writing desk with
his hand.

“You are right, Herr Legal Councilor. I
should pay more attention to my affairs. Please expect me at the
office around six-o’clock. I thank you.”

He shook hands and accompanied him to the
door.

But he didn’t drive into the city that
afternoon. Two lieutenants came to tea, he kept finding reasons for
going back into the room on one pretext or another, couldn’t stand
to go out of the house. He was jealous of every man Alraune spoke
with, of the chair she sat on and the very carpet she walked on. He
didn’t go the next day or the next.

The Legal Councilor sent one messenger after
another. He sent them away without an answer, disconnected his
phone so he wouldn’t get any more calls.

Then the Legal Councilor turned to Alraune,
told her that it was very important for the Privy Councilor to come
into the office. She rang for her car, sent her maid to the library
to tell the Privy Councilor to get ready for a drive into the city
with her.

He trembled with joy. It was the first time
in weeks that she had gone driving with him. He donned his fur
coat, went out into the courtyard, opened the car door for her. She
didn’t speak, but he was happy enough to be permitted to sit next
to her. She drove directly to the office and told him to get
out.

“Where are you going?” he asked.

“Shopping,” she answered.

“Will you pick me back up?” he begged.

She laughed, “I don’t know. Perhaps.”

He was grateful enough for the ‘perhaps’. He
climbed up the stairs and opened the door on the left to the Legal
Councilor’s room.

“Here I am,” he said.

The Legal Councilor shoved the documents at
him, a huge pile of them.

“Here’s the junk,” he nodded. “A pretty
collection. There are a couple of old cases that for a long time
appeared to be settled. They’ve taken off again. There are also a
couple of new ones since the day before yesterday!”

The Privy Councilor sighed. “A bit much–would
you give me a report, Herr Legal Councilor?”

Gontram shook his head, “Wait until Manasse
comes. He knows more about them. He will be here soon. I’ve called
for him. Right now he is with the Examiner in the Hamecher
case.”

“Hamecher?” asked the professor. “Who is
that?”

“The tinker,” the Legal Councilor reminded
him. “The expert opinion of the doctor was very incriminating. The
Public Prosecutor has ordered an investigation–there lies the
summons–by the way, it appears to me that this case is the most
important one right now.”

The Privy Councilor took up the documents and
leafed through them, one after the other. But he was restless,
listened nervously at every phone ring, every step that sounded
through the hallway.

“I only have a little time,” he said.

The Legal Councilor shrugged his shoulders
and calmly lit a fresh cigar. They waited, but the attorney didn’t
appear. Gontram telephoned his office, then the court, but couldn’t
reach him anywhere.

The professor pushed the documents to the
side.

“I can’t read them today,” he said. “I don’t
have any interest in them.”

“Perhaps you are sick, your Excellency,”
opined the Legal Councilor. He ordered some wine and seltzer water.
Then the Fräulein came. The Privy Councilor heard the auto drive up
and stop. He immediately sprang up and grabbed his fur coat. He met
her coming up the corridor.

“Are you ready?” she cried.

“Naturally,” he returned. “Completely.”

But the Legal Councilor stepped between
them.

“It’s not true, Fräulein. We have not even
begun. We are waiting for Attorney Manasse.”

The old man exclaimed, “Nonsense! It is all
entirely trivial. I’m riding back with you, child.”

She looked at the Legal Councilor who spoke,
“These papers appear very important to me.”

“No, no,” insisted the Privy Councilor.

But Alraune decided. “You will stay! Adieu,
Herr Gontram,” she cried.

Then she turned around and ran down the
stairs. He went back into the room, stepped up to the window,
watched her climb into the car and leave. Then he stayed standing
there, looking out onto the street into the dusk.

Herr Gontram ordered the gaslights turned on,
sat quietly in his easy chair, smoked and drank his wine. They were
still waiting when the office closed. One after the other, the
employees left, opened their umbrellas and stepped carefully
through the mud on the street. Neither spoke a word.

Finally the attorney came, hurried up the
stairs, tore open the door.

“Good evening,” he growled, put his umbrella
in a corner, pulled off his galoshes, threw his wet jacket onto the
sofa.

“High time, Herr Colleague,” said the Legal
Councilor.

“High time, yes, it is certainly high time!”
he came back.

He went right up to the Privy Councilor,
stood right in front of him and screamed in his face.

“The warrant is out!”

“What warrant?” hissed the Privy
Councilor.

“What warrant?” mocked the attorney. “I’ve
seen it with my own eyes–the Hamecher case! It will be served early
tomorrow morning at the latest.”

“We must stand bail,” observed the Legal
Councilor carelessly.

The little attorney spun around; “Don’t you
think I already thought of that!–I immediately offered to stand
bail–half a million–right away–denied! The mood has turned sour at
the county court your Excellency. I’ve always thought it would
happen some day.

The judge was very cool and told me, ‘Please
put your request in writing, Herr Attorney. But I fear that you
will have little luck with it. Our evidence is overwhelming–and it
appears that extreme care must be taken.’

Those were his exact words! Not very edifying
is it?”

He poured himself a full glass, emptied it in
short gulps.

“I can tell you more, your Excellency! I met
with Attorney Meir II at court; he is our opposition in the
Gerstenberg case. He also represents the municipality of Huckingen,
which filed suit against you yesterday. I asked him to wait for
me–then I had a long talk with him. That is the reason I am so late
getting here, Herr Colleague. He talked straight with me–we are
loyal to each other at county court, thank God!