Wolf Among Wolves (53 page)

“Who? Fräulein Vi—the boss’s daughter? In my room? With me lying drunk and naked in bed? Oh, dear, oh, dear.”

“Yes, and now she’s keeping watch outside your window so that you shan’t run away!”

“Me, run away!” he sneered boastfully. He involuntarily lowered his voice, however. “That’s what they’d like, for me to run away. That would please them both! But no fear, I’m staying; I’m going to the Rittmeister tomorrow morning, and I’ll show her up, with her fine Lieutenant.”

“Hans, stop this nonsense! He’s coming again, tonight. He won’t let you go to the Rittmeister tomorrow morning.”

“What can he do? He can’t tie me up!”

“No, he can’t tie you up.…”

“Supposing I tell the Rittmeister about the letter.”

“Oh, shut up about the silly letter! You haven’t got it anymore! He’s got it!”

“But Kniebusch can prove—”

“Nonsense, Hans. All nonsense. What sort of proof will the forester be, if it comes to telling on Fräulein Violet?”

Little Meier was silent for a moment, really beginning to think things over. Rather dejectedly he said: “But he can’t want to do anything to me. He’s up to the neck in it himself!”

“But, Hans, that’s just why! Because he’s up to the neck in it, he wants to settle with you. He’s afraid you’ll talk.”

“What should I talk about? I’ll keep my mouth closed about the silly letter.”

“But it isn’t only the letter, Hans,” she cried in desperation. “It’s the other thing, the
Putsch!”

“What
Putsch?”
he asked bankly.

“Oh, Hans, don’t pretend! You needn’t pretend to me. The
Putsch
that’s planned—he’s afraid you’ll betray it!”

“But I don’t know anything of his silly
Putsch
, Mandy. Word of honor! I haven’t the faintest idea what the chaps are planning to do.”

She reflected for a moment. Almost she believed him. But her feeling again told her that all he was saying didn’t matter, that danger threatened him, and that therefore he must get away.

“Hans,” she said very seriously, “it makes no difference whether you really know anything or not. He thinks you do, and that you want to betray him. And he’s mad with you because of the letter. He wants to do something to you, I tell you!”

“What can he do to me?” he said feebly.

“Hans, don’t pretend like that! You know all right. And it was recently in the papers, with a picture, too, showing them all wearing white hoods so they shouldn’t be recognized, and holding a court. Under it was ‘Secret Tribunal.’ Traitors are punished by the Vehme, Hans, that’s what they say!”

“But I’m not a traitor,” he replied. Yet he said it only to say something, said it without any real conviction.

Nor did she accept it. “Hans,” she begged, “why won’t you go away? He’s gone to the village now, to a meeting, and I’ll get her away from the window. You can easily get away now—why won’t you? It isn’t that you think so much of me that you want to stay, seeing that today you were even playing around with Hartig.” (She had not managed to keep completely quiet about it, but already she was sorry.) “And look, the Rittmeister’s coming tomorrow, and you’ve only messed about while he was away, and you also got drunk in the pub during
working hours—why don’t you go away of your own accord, seeing that he’ll throw you out, anyhow?”

“I haven’t a penny,” he said. “Where shall I go?”

“Well, I was thinking that you might go to one of the villages around here and put up at a little inn—perhaps in Grünow—there’s a nice inn there, where I’ve danced. And on Sunday when I’m free I’ll come over and see you. I’ve got a little money; I’ll bring it along. And then you can gradually look for a new job; there are always some in the paper. But not too near to—”

“Sunday in Grünow! Nothing doing!” he grumbled. “And I could whistle for the money!”

“But, Hans, don’t be so silly! I don’t need to offer it to you if I’m not coming! Well, then, are you going?”

“You seem to be in a devil of a hurry to get rid of me all of a sudden. Who have you got your eyes on now?”

“You’ve got a lot of reason to pretend to be jealous! Yes, to pretend, for you’re not in the least bit jealous!”

After a while he asked: “How much money have you got?”

“Oh, it can’t be much, because of the inflation. But I can always give you some more. I shall now see to it that the mistress pays me in goods—in Birnbaum they’re already supposed to be getting their wages in rye.”

“You and wages in rye.… The old woman would never dream of it. You’re always giving yourself nonsensical ideas.” He laughed scornfully. It was very necessary for him to feel superior. “Do you know what, Mandy? Go straight away and fetch your money now. After all, I can’t stay in the inn without money. And you can send Vi away at the same time. I’ve got to pack and I can’t do it in the dark. Oh, God!” he groaned suddenly. “Fancy dragging two heavy suitcases as far as Grünow! Only you could think of such a ridiculous thing!”

“Hans,” she comforted him, “it’s not so bad, so long as you get away safely. Just keep thinking of that. And I’ll carry them for a bit, there’s no need for me to go to bed now. You’ve no idea how fresh I’ll be if I wash myself from head to foot in cold water in the morning.”

“Yes, yes,” he said peevishly. “So long as you’re fresh, that’s the chief thing. Well, are you going or not?”

“Yes, of course, at once. But I may take a little time, I’ve got to get the girl away first. And you will hurry a little, won’t you, Hans? I don’t know when the Lieutenant’s coming back.”

“Oh, him!” said Black Meier contemptuously. “He shouldn’t brag so much. How long do you think a meeting like that will last? At least two or three hours! Peasants don’t let themselves be persuaded so quickly!”

“Well, hurry up, Hans,” she warned him again. “I’ll be back very quickly. A kiss, Hans.”

“Run along,” he said crossly. “All you think of is your cuddling and with me it’s a matter of life and death! But that’s just how you women are. Your heads always full of your so-called love. Not for me, thank you!”

“Oh, you blockhead,” she said and pulled his hair, but this time tenderly. “I’m just glad that you are getting away from here. At last I’ll be able to do some proper work again. It’s mad, but if you’ve got love in your blood and have to keep on stopping and staring … After all, what are you? You’re nothing—do you think I don’t know? But even knowing it doesn’t change things. Life’s just a monkey show, and you are certainly the biggest monkey of them all.”

And with that she planted a kiss on him, whether he liked it or not, and went out of the room, almost gay, almost contented.

II

Bailiff Meier didn’t wait long to make sure whether Amanda had really got Fräulein Violet away from her post. He cast a fleeting glance out of the window and, seeing no one, switched the light on. Like all unimaginative persons, he could form no idea of the danger threatening him. Everything had hitherto turned out quite well for him; one could go a long way by being thick-skinned, and things would be all right now, too.

As a matter of fact the prospects were not at all bad: it would be nice to play the
rentier
for a while—and of a sudden he even had his plans for the future! The Lieutenant had put ideas into his head. He still had a few things to settle before he departed, but he really ought to make haste. That was not so easy, however. His head was still hazy, and he found that putting on his town clothes, with shirt, collar and tie, presented some difficulty. His hands were trembling. “Must be the ether,” he decided. “I’ve never yet had it from drinking.”

With a sigh he set about packing. What a job, finding his few odds and ends in an untidy room and squeezing them, dirty and creased as they were, into two suitcases! He had got them in once (he had bought nothing in Neulohe), so in they must go again. By dint of much struggling he managed it at last, locked the cases and fastened the straps—his next girl would have nothing to laugh about, washing and ironing his things!

How much money would Mandy bring him? Efficient girl, Mandy, talked a bit too big, but otherwise quite nice! Well, she wouldn’t bring a lot of money; a lot of money would require a cart—but it would be useful as a supplement.

Cursing savagely he discovered that he was standing around in his socks—and his shoes were in the suitcase! Blast it. He was so used to putting on his
high farm boots right at the end, that he hadn’t thought of his shoes. Naturally with his town clothes he wore his pointed shoes, the brownish patent ones. But which suitcase were they in? His farm boots looked out at him from the first case he half opened; after all, the patent shoes were rather narrow. But the thought of the figure he would cut for the girls in Grünow, in town clothes and farm boots, decided him. It must be the shoes.

Naturally they were in the second case! He got them on with some difficulty. “They’ll stretch in walking,” he consoled himself.

Then he strode into the office. He sorted his papers out of drawers and portfolios; he stamped his unemployment insurance card for six months ahead. There were stamps enough in this pigsty, and if the things became worth nothing afterwards it didn’t matter. And he carefully wrote himself a police notification to the effect that Herr Hans Meier was going on a journey. The stamp of the farm superintendent was pressed below it—there, that was all right.

Yet a moment’s reflection convinced him of the truth of the sentiment that two is always better than one, and so he wrote out a second notification. In this Meier became Schmidt … von Schmidt, Hans von Schmidt, occupation—farm manager, likewise on a journey. “There, you dolts, now try and find me!”

He grinned. Satisfaction at his great cunning banished the throb and ache in his head—it is a wonderful thing to be smarter than others and do them down! And now he began to type a testimonial for himself on a sheet of official Neulohe paper. Naturally, he was the pearl of all employees, knew everything, could do everything, did everything—and, moreover, was honest, reliable and industrious. It was rapture to give oneself all these things in writing. From the lines of the testimonial arose a new Meier with a fine, promising future, one fitted for the post of farm manager, the Meier he would like to be—in short the Meier of all Meiers!

This testimony was actually too good—it was not really comprehensible why one should ever let such an employee go; one ought to keep him to the end of his life. But clever, witty Meier was also able to deal with this. Owing to sale of lease, he wrote down. You see, the new boss would then not be able to ask the old one for further references. He had given up his lease, did not know where he had moved to. Now the stamp of the farm administration—the signature: Joachim von Prackwitz, captain (ret.) and tenant farmer—again the superintendent’s stamp—stamps are always good. The thing looked fine—the smartest fellow would be taken in by it.

Into his wallet with the papers. We’ll also put the supply of postage stamps in, we can always use stamps—why let them lie around here? The safe doesn’t
hold overmuch, but it’ll do for a while. And if Mandy turns up trumps, then I’ll be able to live well for a few weeks. God, my breast pockets do bulge; papers on the right, cash on the left—a bosom, my child, a bosom is essential! A bosom is the latest fashion—no, as a matter of fact it isn’t. But as far as I’m concerned, a bosom is always nice. Now we’ll just close the safe, it’ll look better in the morning.…

“Leave it open, my lad! Always leave it open, young man—it looks better. Then tomorrow morning the Rittmeister will guess things at once!” cried the Lieutenant from the door.

For a moment Meier’s face was distorted. But only for a moment. “I’ll do just what I like,” he said pertly, and shut the safe. “Anyway, you’ve got no business to be here at night.… You’ve just pinched a letter of mine from my room.”

“My lad,” said the Lieutenant threateningly and came two paces nearer. But he was a little nonplussed by this incredible cheekiness. “My lad, do you see this?”

“Of course I can see the thing,” declared Meier, and scarcely a tremor in his voice betrayed how unpleasant he found the sight of the pistol. “And I could have also got myself one of those cannons; there are enough of them lying in the drawer there. But I decided I could get on without it—I knew you were coming,” he added somewhat boastfully.

“Oh, you knew, did you?” said the Lieutenant slowly, observing the ugly little fellow intently.

“So you’re a conspirator! You want to plan a
Putsch
, eh?” said Meier mockingly, beginning to feel sure of himself. “And yet you didn’t notice that there was a girl in the next room the whole time, here in the office. While you were in my room. And she heard everything that you and Vi said. There, that surprises you!” But the Lieutenant did not seem at all surprised.

“So there was a girl hidden here, was there?” he said calmly. “And where’s the girl now? Still in the next room?”

“No,” said Meier boldly. “Not this time. We’re quite alone, so you needn’t be alarmed. Your lady fair’s taking a little walk with my lady fair. But you can naturally imagine,” he added warningly, when he saw the Lieutenant make an involuntary movement, “what my girl will say tomorrow if anything happens to me. Or do you want to shoot us both?” he said, tickled by his own impudence, and laughing.

The Lieutenant threw himself into a chair, crossed his legs and thoughtfully lit a cigarette. “You’re by no means stupid, my lad,” he said. “The only question is whether you’re not too clever. May I inquire what your plans are?”

“Indeed you may,” said Meier readily. Now that he had convinced the Lieutenant that it was wiser not to do anything to him, his only desire was to come to an understanding with the man. “I’m clearing out of here!” he said. “I’ve already knocked off—well, you saw it just now at the safe.” But the Lieutenant did not move an eye. “I’m well within my rights to take the money. My wages are owing to me. Besides, can you imagine what miserable wages they’ve been paying me here on account of the inflation? If I am taking a little, then it’s not so much by a long chalk as what the Rittmeister’s stolen from me.”