The Goose Man Part 35

Let's lose no time. Is he upstairs?"

"I think he is. If not, I will get him."

"Let's go up, then."

They went up the stairs.

XII

Jason Philip had been invited to a sociable evening in the Shufflers'

Club. He was now enjoying his siesta after his banquet by reading an editorial in the _Kurier_. One of Bismarck's addresses had been so humorously commented on that every now and then Jason Philip emitted a malevolent snarl of applause.

He had brought a lemon along home with him; it was lying on a plate before him, sliced and covered with sugar. From time to time he would reach over, take a piece and stick it in his mouth. He smacked his tongue with the display of much ceremony of his kind, and licked his lips after swallowing a piece. His two sons gaped at his hand with greedy eyes and likewise licked their lips.

Willibald was groaning over an algebraic equation. In his pale, pimpled face were traces of incapability and bad humour. Markus, owing to his physical defect, was not allowed to study by artificial light. He helped his mother sh.e.l.l the peas, and in order to make her angry at Philippina, kept making mean remarks about her staying out so long.

Just as the last piece of the lemon disappeared behind Jason Philip's moustache, the door bell rang.

"There is a man out there," said Markus, who had gone to the door and was now standing on the threshold, stupidly staring with his one remaining eye.

Jason Philip stretched his neck. Then he got up. He had recognised Daniel standing in the half-lighted hall.

"I have something to say to you," said Daniel, as he entered the room.

His eyes gazed on the walls and at the few cheap, ugly, ba.n.a.l objects that hung on them: a newspaper-holder with embroidered ribbons; a corner table on which stood a beer mug representing the fat body of a monk; an old chromic print showing a volunteer taking leave of his big family as he starts for the front. These things appealed to Daniel somewhat as an irrational dream. Then, taking a deep breath, he fixed his eyes on Jason Philip. In his mind's eye he looked back over many years; he saw himself standing at the fountain in Eschenbach. Round about him glistened the stones and cross beams of the houses. Jason Philip was hurrying by at a timid distance. There was bitterness in his face: he seemed to be fleeing from the world, the sun, men, and music.

"I have something to say to you," he repeated.

Theresa felt that the worst of her forebodings were about to be fulfilled. With trembling knees she arose. She did not dare turn her eyes toward the place in the room where Daniel was standing. She did not see, she merely sensed Jason Philip as he beckoned to her and his sons to leave the room. She took Markus by the hand and Willibald by the coat-sleeve, and marched out between the two.

"What's the news?" asked Jason Philip, as he crossed his arms and looked at the pile of beans on the table. "You have a-what shall I say?-a very impulsive way about you. It is a way that reminds me of the fact that we have a law in this country against disturbing the peace of a private family. Your stocks must have gone to the very top of the market recently. Well, tell me, what do you want?"

He cleared his throat, and beat a tattoo on the elbows of his crossed arms with his fingers.

Daniel felt that his peace was leaving him; his own arm seemed to him like a shot-gun; it itched. But thus far he could not say a thing. The question he had in mind to put to Jason Philip was of such tremendous import that he could not suppress his fear that he might make a mistake or become too hasty.

"Where is the money my father gave you?" came the words at last, rolling from his lips in a tone of m.u.f.fled sullenness.

The colour left Jason Philip's face; his arms fell down by his side.

"The money? Where it's gone to? That your father-?" He stuttered in confusion. He wanted to gain time; he wanted to think over very carefully what he should say and what he could conceal. He cast one glance at Daniel, and saw that it was not possible to expect mercy from him. He was afraid of Daniel's bold, lean, sinewy face.

He nearly burst with anger at the thought that this young man, for whom he, Jason Philip, was once the highest authority, should have the unmitigated audacity to call him to account. In this whole situation he pictured himself as the immaculate man of honour that he wished he was and thought he was in the eyes of his fellow citizens. At the same time he was nearly stifled with fear lest he lose the money which he had long since accustomed himself to regard as his own, with which he had worked and speculated, and which by this time was as much a part of his very being as his own house, his business, his projects. He buried his hands in his pockets and snorted. His cowardly dread of the consequences of fraud forced him into a half confession of fraud, but in his words lay the feverish pettifogging of the frenzied financier who fights for Mammon even unto raging and despair.

"The money is here; of course it is. Where did you think it was? My books will show exactly how much of it has found its way over to Eschenbach in the shape of interest and loans. My books are open to inspection; the accounts have been kept right up to this very day. I have made considerable progress in life. A man who has lived as I have lived does not need to fear a living soul. Do you imagine for a minute that Jason Philip Schimmelweis can be frightened by a little thing like this? No, no, it will take more of a man than you to do that. Who are you anyhow? What office do you hold? What authority have you? With what right do you come rus.h.i.+ng into the four walls of my home? Do you perhaps imagine that your artistic skill invests you with special privileges? I don't give a tinker's d.a.m.n for your art. The whole rubbish is hardly worth spitting on. Music? Idiocy. Who needs it? Any man with the least vestige of self-respect never has anything to do with music except on holidays and when the day's work is done. No, no, you can't impress me with your music. You're not quite sane! And if you think that you are going to get any money out of me, you are making the mistake of your life. It is to laugh. If a man wants money from me, he has to come to me at least with a decent hair-cut and show me at least a little respect.

He can't come running up like a kid on the street who says: 'Mumma, gif me a shent; I want to buy some tandy.' No, no, son, you can't get anything out of me that way."

The smile that appeared on Daniel's face filled Jason Philip with mortal terror. He stopped his talk with incriminating suddenness. He decided to hold in and to promise Daniel a small payment. He hoped that by handing over a few hundred marks he could a.s.sure himself the desired peace of mind.

But Daniel never felt so certain of himself in his life. He thought of the hards.h.i.+ps he had had to endure, and his heart seemed as if it were on fire. At the same time he was ashamed of this man and disgusted with him.

He said quietly and firmly: "I must have three thousand seven hundred marks by ten o'clock to-morrow morning. It is a question of saving an honourable and upright family from ruin. If this sum is handed over to me promptly, I will waive all rights to the balance that is due me, in writing. The receipt will be filled out ready for delivery in my house.

If the money is not in my hands by the stipulated time, we will meet each other in another place and in the presence of people who will impress you."

He turned to go.

Jason Philip's mouth opened wide, and he pressed his fist to the hole made thereby. "Three thousand seven hundred marks?" he roared. "The man is crazy. Completely crazy is the man. Man, man, you're crazy," he cried in order to get Daniel to stop. "Are you crazy, man? Do you want to ruin me? Don't you hear, you d.a.m.ned man?"

Daniel looked at Jason Philip with a shudder. The door to the adjoining room sprang open, and Theresa rushed in. Her face was ashen pale; there were just two little round red spots on her cheek bones. "You are going to get that money, Daniel," she howled hysterically, "or I am going to jump into the Pegnitz, I'll jump into the Pegnitz and drown myself."

"Woman, you ..." he gnashed his teeth, and seized her by the shoulder.

She sank down on a chair, and, seizing her hair, continued: "He is everywhere, and wherever he is, our dear Gottfried, he is looking at me.

He stands before the clothes press, at the cupboard, by my bedside, nods, exhorts, raises his finger, finds no peace in his grave, and does not let me sleep; he has not let me sleep all these years."

"Now listen, you had better think of your children," snapped Jason Philip.

Theresa let her hands fall in her lap, and looked down at the floor: "All that nice money, that nice money," she cried. Then again, this time with a face distorted beyond easy recognition and at the top of her voice: "But you'll get it, Daniel; I'll see to it that you get it: I'll bring it to you myself." Then again, in a gentle voice of acute lamentation: "All that nice money."

Daniel was almost convulsed. It seemed to him as if he had never rightly understood the word _money_ before, as if the meaning of _money_ had never been made clear to him until he heard Theresa say it.

"To-morrow morning at ten o'clock," he said.

Theresa nodded her head in silence, and raised her hands with outstretched fingers as if to protect herself from Jason Philip.

Willibald and Markus had crept under the door. The gate must not have been closed, for just then Philippina came in. She had come over with Daniel, but had remained outside on the street. She could not wait any longer; she was too anxious to see the consequences of her betrayal.

She looked around with affected embarra.s.sment. Was it merely the sight of her that aroused Jason Philip's wrath? Was it the half-cowardly, half-cynical smile that played around her lips? Or was it the c.u.mulative effect of blind anger, long pent up and eager to be discharged, that made Jason Philip act as he did? Or did he have a vague suspicion of what Philippina had done? Suffice it to say, he leapt up to her and struck her in the face with his fist.

She never moved a muscle.

Indignant at the rudeness of his conduct, Daniel stepped between Jason Philip and his daughter. But the venomous scorn in the girl's eyes stifled his sympathy; he turned to the door, and went away in silence.

"All that nice money," murmured Theresa.

XIII

When Daniel told the Jordans that the money would be there the next morning, Jordan looked at him first unbelievingly, and then wept like a child.

Eleanore reached Daniel both her hands without saying a word. Gertrude, who was lying on the sofa, straightened up, smiled gently, and then lay down again. Daniel asked her what was the matter. Eleanore answered for her, saying that she had not felt well since some time in the afternoon.

"She must go to bed, she is tired," added Eleanore.

"Well, come then," said Daniel, and helped Gertrude to get up. But her legs were without strength; she could not walk. She looked first at Daniel and then at Eleanore; she was plainly worried about something.

"You won't care, will you, Father, if I go home with them?" asked Eleanore in a tone of flattery.

"No, go, child," said Jordan, "it will do me good to be alone for a few minutes."

Daniel and Eleanore took Gertrude between them. At the second landing in their apartment, Daniel took Gertrude in his arms, and carried her into the bedroom. She did not want him to help her take off her clothes; she sent him out of the room. A cup of warm milk was all she said she wanted.