Amerika. Part 4

'Such goings on,' said Karl, quite captivated by the story, and sat down on the ground. 'So that was Brunelda?'

'That's right,' said Robinson, 'that was Brunelda.'

'Didn't you once say she was a singer?' asked Karl.

'Of course she's a singer, and a great singer too,' replied Robinson, revolving a huge ma.s.s of sweets on his tongue and now and then pus.h.i.+ng a bit that was falling out of his mouth back in with his fingers. 'But of course we didn't know that then, we only saw that she was a rich and very distinguished lady. She acted as though nothing had happened, because I really only just tapped her with my fingertips. But she kept staring at Delamarche, who looked her how does he manage it straight in the eye. Then she said: "Come in for a bit," and with her parasol she ushered Delamarche into the apartment ahead of her. Then they both went inside and the servants shut the door after them. They just left me outside, and I thought it won't take all that long, and I sat down on the steps to wait for Delamarche. Then instead of Delamarche the butler came out and he brought me a whole bowl of soup, "compliments of Delamarche!" I thought to myself. The butler hung around for a while as I ate, and told me a few things about Brunelda, and then I saw what importance the visit to Brunelda could have for us. Because Brunelda was a divorcee, she had a large fortune, and she was completely independent. Her ex-husband, a chocolate manufacturer, still loved her, but she didn't want anything more to do with him. He visited the apartment frequently, always dressed terribly smartly, as if for a wedding that's literally true, I saw him myself but in spite of all kinds of bribes, the butler didn't dare ask Brunelda whether she would receive him, because he had already asked a few times, and each time she had thrown in his face whatever she had to hand. Once it was even her large full hot-water bottle, and that knocked out one of his front teeth. Yes, Rossmann, you're amazed.'

'How do you know the man?' asked Karl.

'He still comes up here sometimes,' said Robinson.

'Up here?' in his astonishment, Karl patted the floor with his hand.

'You might well be amazed,' Robinson continued, 'I was amazed too, when the servant told me that at the time. Imagine, when Brunelda was out of the house, the man had himself admitted into her room by the butler, and he always took away some little nick-nack as a memento, and left something very fine and expensive in its place for Brunelda, with strict instructions to the butler not to say who it was from. But on one occasion I have it from the butler, and I believe him he left some absolutely priceless piece of porcelain, and Brunelda must have recognized it somehow, and she threw it on the floor and trod on it and spat on it, and did a few other things besides, so that the man was almost too disgusted to carry it outside.'

'What had her husband done to her?' asked Karl.

'I don't really know,' said Robinson. 'I don't think it was anything too terrible, he doesn't really know himself. I've spoken to him about it a few times. He waits for me down on the corner every day, if I come, I have to give him some bit of news, and if I can't, he waits for half an hour, and then goes away again. It was a good source of income for me, because he pays handsomely for any news, but since Delamarche got wind of it, I have to hand everything over to him, and so I don't go so often any more.'

'But what does the man want?' asked Karl, 'what does he want? He must know she won't have him back.'

'Yes,' sighed Robinson, lit a cigarette, and, waving his arms expansively, blew the smoke into the sky. Then something else seemed to occur to him, and he said: 'What do I care? All I know is he'd give a lot of money to lie here on the balcony, like us.'

Karl stood up, leaned against the railing and looked down on the street. The moon was now visible, but its light didn't yet reach into the depths of the street. The street, so empty by day, was now crammed full of people, especially the entrances to the buildings, everyone was in slow c.u.mbersome movement, the s.h.i.+rtsleeves of the men and the light dresses of the women stood out a little from the darkness, all were bareheaded. The many balconies round about were all occupied now, there by the light of an electric lamp sat families, either round a small table or on a row of chairs, whatever suited the size of their particular balcony, or at the very least, they stuck their heads out of windows. The men sat there, legs apart, feet pushed through the railings, reading newspapers that reached down almost to the floor, or they played cards, apparently wordlessly, but smacking the cards down powerfully on the table, the women had their laps full of mending, and only occasionally allowed themselves a quick glance at their surroundings or at the street below, a frail blonde woman on the next door balcony kept yawning, rolling her eyes as she did, and covering her mouth with a garment she was just patching, even on the smallest balconies children seemed able to chase one another, which was tremendously irritating to the parents. Gramophones had been put on inside many of the rooms, and pumped out vocal or orchestral music, people weren't particularly bothered about the music, only from time to time the head of the family would gesture, and someone would run into the room to put on a new record. At some of the windows you could see completely motionless lovers, one such couple stood at a window facing Karl, the young man had his arm round the girl and was squeezing her breast with his hand.

'Do you know any of the neighbours,' Karl asked Robinson, who had got up now, and because he was cold had wrapped himself up in Brunelda's blanket in addition to his own.

'Almost no one. That's the drawback to my position,' said Robinson, and pulled Karl closer to whisper in his ear, 'otherwise I wouldn't have so much to complain about just now. Brunelda sold everything she had on account of Delamarche, and with all her wealth she moved into this apartment in the suburbs with him, so that she could devote herself entirely to him without anyone to bother her, which is what Delamarche wanted as well.'

'So she dismissed her servants?' Karl asked.

'That's right,' said Robinson. 'Where was there for them to stay here anyway? These servants are a very pampered lot. Once at Brunelda's, Delamarche drove one of them out of the room with a succession of slaps, left and right, until the fellow was out of the door. Then of course all the other servants got together with him and made a noise outside the door, and then Delamarche came out (in those days I wasn't a servant, I was a friend of the family's, though I mostly hung around with the servants), and asked: "What d'you want?" The oldest servant, a fellow by the name of Isidor, said: "You have nothing to say to us, madam is our mistress." As you probably noticed, they wors.h.i.+pped Brunelda. But Brunelda ran over to Delamarche without bothering about them, she wasn't so heavy then as she is now, and hugged and kissed him in front of them all, and called him "darling Delamarche". "And get rid of those jackanapes" she finally said. Jackanapes she was referring to the servants, you should have seen their expression. Then Brunelda pulled Delamarche's hand down to the purse that she wore round her waist, and Delamarche reached into it and started paying off the servants, Brunelda played no part in it, other than standing there with an open purse at her waist. Delamarche had to reach into it a lot, because he handed out the money without counting it and without checking the claims they made. Finally he said: "Since you don't want to talk to me, I'd just like to tell you in Brunelda's name: Get out of here, and make it fast." And that was how they were dismissed, there was some wrangling after that, Delamarche even had to go to court once, but I don't really know what happened there. But immediately the servants were all gone, Delamarche said to Brunelda: "So now you've got no servants?" She said: "But what about Robinson." And Delamarche gave me a slap on the back and said: "All right, you can be our servant." And Brunelda gave me a pat on the cheek, if you ever get a chance, Rossmann, get her to pat you on the cheek, there's nothing like it.'

'So you became Delamarche's servant?' asked Karl, summing up.

Robinson heard the note of pity in the question, and replied: 'I'm the servant, but very few people realize that. Remember, you didn't notice it yourself, even though you've been with us a while. You saw the way I was dressed that night in the hotel with you. Nothing but the best, and do servants go around like that? Only, the thing is this: I'm rarely allowed to go out, I always have to be around, there's always something needs doing in the house. One person just isn't enough for so much work. Perhaps you noticed, we've got lots of things standing around in the room, whatever we weren't able to sell when we moved out we had to take with us. Of course we could have given it away, but that's not how Brunelda operates. Just imagine the labour of carrying those things up the stairs.'

'Do you mean to say you carried all that up the stairs, Robinson?' Karl exclaimed.

'Who else?' said Robinson. 'There was a man to help me, a lazy beggar, I had to do most of it by myself. Brunelda stayed downstairs by the car, Delamarche gave the instructions upstairs, where to put things, and I kept going back and forth. It took two days, a long time, isn't it? but you've no idea how many things are up here in the room, all the boxes are full and behind the boxes everything's stacked up to the ceiling. If we'd taken on a couple of people to do the removal, it could all have been done very quickly, but Brunelda didn't want to entrust it to anyone else but me. That's very nice, but I ruined my health for the rest of my days doing it, and what else have I got but my health. If I exert myself even a tiny bit, I feel it here and here and here. Do you imagine those boys in the hotel, those bullfrogs what else can you call them? could ever have beaten me, if I'd been fit. But whatever's the matter with me, I'll never breathe a word to Delamarche and Brunelda, I'll go on working for as long as I can until I'm completely incapacitated, and then I'll lay myself down and die, and only then, too late, they'll see I was sick and in spite of that went on and on working, and finally worked myself to death in their service. Oh Rossmann,' he said finally, drying his eyes on Karl's sleeve. After a little while he said: 'Aren't you cold, standing there in your s.h.i.+rt.'

'Come on, Robinson,' said Karl, 'you're forever crying. I don't think you're that sick. You look pretty healthy to me, but because you always lie out on the balcony, you've been having thoughts. Maybe you do have an occasional pain in your chest, so do I, so does everyone. If everyone in the world would cry like that over every trifling thing, they'd all be crying on all the balconies.'

'No, I know better,' said Robinson, now wiping his eyes on the corner of his blanket. 'The student who lives with our landlady next door, who also used to cook for us, he said to me as I was taking back the plates recently: "I say, Robinson, you do look unwell." I'm not allowed to talk to those people, so I just put the plates down and turned to leave. Then he went up to me and said: "Listen, man, don't overdo it, you're sick." "Very well, then tell me what to do about it," I asked. "That's your affair," he said, and turned away. The others sitting at the table laughed, we have enemies all over, and so I preferred just to leave.'

'And so you believe people who are making a fool of you, and not those who mean well by you.'

'But I'm the one who knows how I feel,' Robinson exploded, but straightaway burst into tears again.

'That's just it, you don't know what the matter is with you, you should look for some proper job for yourself, instead of being Delamarche's servant here. As far as I can tell from what you've told me, and from what I've seen for myself, this isn't service, it's slavery. No one can stand that, I'm sure you're right there. But you think that because you're Delamarche's friend, you can't leave him. That's wrong, if he refuses to see what a miserable life you've got, then you've no obligation to him whatever.'

'So Rossmann, you really believe I'll get better if I stop serving here?'

'I'm convinced of it,' said Karl.

'Convinced?' Robinson repeated.

'Utterly,' said Karl, with a smile.

'Then I could start feeling better very soon,' said Robinson, looking at Karl.

'How's that?' he asked.

'Well, because you're due to take over from me here,' replied Robinson.

'Who told you that?' asked Karl.

'That's a well-established plan. We've been talking about that for several days now. It began with Brunelda ticking me off for not keeping the apartment clean enough. Of course I promised to fix it all right away. But that's far from easy. For example, in my condition, I can't crawl around everywhere to wipe up the dust, you can't even move freely in the middle of the room, so how could you amongst all the furniture and supplies. And if you want to clean anything really properly, that means moving the furniture and how can I do that by myself? And then it would all have to be done very quietly, because Brunelda hardly ever leaves the room, and she mustn't be disturbed. So I promised I would clean everything, but in fact I didn't. When Brunelda noticed, she told Delamarche that it couldn't go on like that, and they'd have to take on some more help. "Delamarche" she said, "I don't want you to reproach me for my running of the household. I'm not allowed to strain myself, you understand that, and Robinson isn't enough on his own, at first he was willing and looked around everywhere, but now he's tired the whole time, and just mopes in a corner. But a room with as many things in it as ours doesn't just look after itself." Then Delamarche went and had a think about what to do, because of course you can't just take anyone into a household like ours, not even for a trial period, because people are always gossiping about us. But because I'm a good friend of yours, and heard from Renell how they were making you sweat in the hotel, I thought of you. Delamarche agreed to it right away, even though you were so cheeky to him before, and of course I was very happy to be able to do you such a service. Because this job might have been made for you, you're young, strong and adroit, while I'm not up to anything any more. Only I just have to warn you that it's not quite a foregone conclusion yet, if Brunelda doesn't like you, we couldn't keep you. So try and make an effort to please her, and I'll see to the rest myself.'

'And what will you do once I'm the servant here?' Karl took the liberty of asking, once the initial shock of Robinson's news had worn off. So Delamarche had nothing worse in store for him than making him into his servant if he'd had any worse intentions, that blabbermouthed Robinson would certainly have revealed them but if this was how things stood, then Karl thought he might go through with his departure this very night. And while it had been Karl's concern previously, following his dismissal from the hotel, to find another job in short order so he didn't go hungry, a proper job, if possible, as respectable as his last, now, in comparison to this job proposed here, which was repulsive to him, any other job would be welcome, and even a period of hunger and unemployment would be preferable to this. He made no attempt to explain as much to Robinson, though, not least as Robinson's views would be coloured by his hopes of being relieved by Karl.

'So,' said Robinson, accompanying his speech with complacent hand movements he had his elbows propped on the railing 'so I'll explain everything to you and show you the supplies. You're educated, and I'm sure you write a clear hand, so you could draw up an inventory of all the things we have here. Brunelda has been wanting that for ages. If it's fine tomorrow morning, we'll ask Brunelda to sit out on the balcony, and then we'll be able to work quietly inside without disturbing her. Because one thing you have to bear in mind, Rossmann, above all. Don't disturb Brunelda. She hears everything, it's probably because she's a singer that she has such terribly sensitive ears. For instance if you roll out the brandy barrel behind the chests, that makes a noise just because it's so heavy, and then there are various things lying in its path, so you can't roll it away at one fell swoop. Say Brunelda is lying quietly on the sofa, catching flies, which are a terrific nuisance for her. You think she's not paying any attention, and carry on rolling the barrel. She's still lying peacefully. But in a moment, and when you're least expecting it, and when you're making the least amount of noise, she suddenly sits bolt upright, bangs the sofa with both hands, so that she disappears in a cloud of dust I haven't been able to beat the sofa in all the time we've been here, after all how can I, she's always lying on it and starts this terrible shouting like a man, and goes on for hours. The neighbours have stopped her from singing, but no one can stop her from shouting, she has to shout, it only happens quite rarely nowadays by the way, Delamarche and I are very careful. It did her a lot of harm as well. Once she became unconscious, so Delamarche was away at the time I had to fetch the student from next door, who sprayed her with some liquid from a big bottle, and it helped too, but the liquid had an insufferable smell, even now if you stick your nose in the sofa, you can still smell it. That student is definitely an enemy of ours, like everyone here, you should be wary of everyone and not get involved with any of them.'

'I say, Robinson,' said Karl, 'that all sounds like hard work. This is some job you've put me up for.'

'Don't worry,' said Robinson, and shook his head with serenely closed eyes, to dispel all possible worries of Karl's, 'the job also brings advantages with it like no other. You're in continual close proximity with a lady like Brunelda, sometimes you sleep in the same room as her, that, as you can imagine, has various amenities a.s.sociated with it. You will be generously paid, money is there in copious amounts, as a friend of Delamarche's I wasn't actually given any, except when I went out Brunelda gave me some, but of course you will be paid just like a regular servant. Because that's all you'll be. The most important thing for you, though, is that I will be able to make it a great deal easier for you. To begin with, of course, I won't do anything so I can recuperate, but as soon as I feel a little better, you'll be able to count on me. The actual attendance on Brunelda I'm going to keep as my preserve, which is to say dressing her and doing her hair, inasmuch as that isn't done by Delamarche. You'll only have to deal with the tidying of the room, the shopping and the heavy housework.'

'No, Robinson,' said Karl, 'I'm really not tempted.'

'Don't be an idiot, Rossmann,' said Robinson, very close to Karl's face, 'don't pa.s.s up this fine opportunity. Where else will you get a job right away? Who knows you? Whom do you know?' We, two men who have knocked around a lot and have a lot of experience, went around for weeks without finding any work. It's not easy, in fact it's desperately hard.'

Karl nodded, surprised how sensible Robinson could be at times. Admittedly, these tips didn't apply to himself, he mustn't stay here, in the big city there would surely be some little thing he could do, all night, he knew, the inns were overflowing, they needed men to serve the customers, he already had some practice in that, he would slot quickly and un.o.btrusively into some business. In fact, on the ground floor of the building opposite, there was a little bar, from which rhythmic music came. The main entrance was covered by a large yellow curtain, which would sometimes be seized by a draught, and blow right out into the street. Apart from that, it had grown a lot quieter in the street. The majority of the balconies were now in darkness, only here and there in the distance was there still the odd light, but no sooner did you look at it than the people over there got up, and while they filed back into the apartment, a man reached up to the lamp and, as the last person out on the balcony, he had a final look down at the street, and turned off the lamp.

'It's getting to be night,' Karl told himself, 'if I stay here much longer, I'll be one of them.' He turned round to draw the curtain away from the apartment door. 'What are you doing?' said Robinson, and got between Karl and the curtain. 'I'm leaving,' said Karl, 'let me go, let me go!' 'You're going to disturb them,' cried Robinson, 'what do you think you're doing.' And he put his arms round Karl's neck and hung on to him with all his weight, twined his legs round Karl's legs and in an instant had him down on the ground. But Karl had learned how to look after himself from being among the lift-boys, and he brought his fist up against Robinson's chin, but only gently and with forbearance. His opponent, though, quickly and violently drove his knee hard into Karl's belly, and then, clutching his chin with both hands, started howling so loud that on the next door balcony a man clapped his hands frenziedly and called out 'Quiet'. Karl lay there a while, to get over the pain from Robinson's blow. He only turned his face to the curtain, which hung quiet and heavy in front of the evidently darkened room. There seemed to be no one in the room any more, maybe Delamarche and Brunelda had gone out, and Karl was already completely at liberty. Robinson, who really was behaving like a guard dog, had been completely shaken off.

Then from the far end of the street there came bursts of trumpets and drums. A few isolated shouts from people gradually amalgamated into a general hubbub. Karl turned his head and saw life returning to the balconies. He slowly rose, he couldn't quite stand upright yet, and had to lean hard against the railing. Down on the pavements were young fellows marching with great strides, arms out, caps in their raised hands, heads thrown far back. The actual road was still clear. Some individuals were swinging lanterns on long poles, which were swathed in yellowish smoke. Just then the drummers and trumpeters emerged into the light in broad ranks, and Karl was amazed at the numbers, then behind him he heard voices, and turned to see Delamarche raising the heavy curtain and Brunelda stepping out of the darkened room in her red dress, with a lace shawl over her shoulders, a dark bonnet over her probably unkempt hair that was merely piled up on her head, and tendrils of which peeped out here and there. In her hand she held a little open fan, but rather than using it, she kept it pressed against her face.

Karl moved along the railing a little to make room for the two of them. Surely no one would compel him to remain here, and if Delamarche tried to, then Brunelda would let him go, he had only to ask. After all she didn't like him, she was frightened of his eyes. But when he made a move in the direction of the door, she noticed and said: 'Where are you off to, little man?' Karl froze at Delamarche's stern expression, and Brunelda pulled him to herself. 'Don't you want to watch the procession down there?' she said, and pushed him against the railing in front of her. 'Do you know what it's about?' Karl heard her saying behind him, and he made an involuntary attempt to get away from her pressure, which failed. He looked sadly down at the street, as though it were his own bottomless sadness.

At first Delamarche stood behind Brunelda with arms crossed, then he ran into the room and fetched Brunelda the opera gla.s.ses. Down on the street, the main part of the procession had appeared behind the musicians. On the shoulders of one colossal man sat a gentleman, of whom nothing more could be seen from that height than his dully gleaming pate, over which he held his top hat aloft in perpetual greeting. Round about him some wooden placards were clearly being carried, they looked completely white from up on the balcony; their disposition was such that these placards seemed to lean against the gentleman on every side, and he soared up from their midst. As everything was continually on the move, the wall of placards was continually loosening and then re-forming itself. In a wider radius, the whole breadth of the street, though, so far as one could tell in the darkness, not much of its depth, was filled with supporters of the gentleman, all of them clapping their hands and calling out what was in all probability his name, which was short and unfortunately incomprehensible, in a long-drawn-out chanting. Individuals, cleverly distributed in the crowd, held car headlamps with extremely powerful light, which they ran slowly up and down the buildings on either side. At Karl's elevation, the light was no longer bothersome, but on the lower balconies you could see the people whom it brushed hurriedly s.h.i.+elding their eyes with their hands.

At Brunelda's plea, Delamarche asked the people on the neighbouring balcony what the procession was for. Karl was a little curious as to whether he would receive an answer, and what it would be. And indeed Delamarche had to ask three times, without getting a reply. Already he was leaning dangerously out over the edge. Brunelda was stamping her feet a little in irritation at the neighbours, Karl could feel her knees moving. Finally there was some reply, but at the same time everyone on that balcony, which was full of people, exploded with laughter. Delamarche shouted something at them, so loud, that if at that moment there hadn't been a lot of noise on the whole street, everyone would have turned to look in astonishment. At least it had the effect that the laughter did die down rather prematurely.

'They are electing a new judge in our district tomorrow, and the man they're carrying down there is one of the candidates,' Delamarche reported, perfectly calmly returning to Brunelda. 'Honestly!' he said, tapping Brunelda's back affectionately. 'We're quite out of touch with what's going on in the world.'

'Delamarche,' said Brunelda, going back to the neighbours' behaviour, 'I should so like to move, if only it weren't such a strain. Unfortunately, I daren't risk it' And sighing deeply, distracted and agitated, she fiddled about with Karl's s.h.i.+rt, who tried as un.o.btrusively as he could to push away those plump little hands of hers, which turned out to be easy, because Brunelda wasn't thinking about him, she was preoccupied with quite different thoughts.

Then Karl in turn quite forgot Brunelda, and suffered the weight of her arms on his shoulders, because he was quite absorbed by the goings-on down in the street. On the instruction of a small group of gesticulating men who were walking just in front of the candidate, and whose discussions seemed to have particular importance, because all around one could see listening faces bending towards them, a halt was suddenly called in front of the bar. One of these crucial figures raised his hand in a signal that was meant both for the crowd and the candidate. The mult.i.tude fell silent, and the candidate, trying repeatedly to get up on the shoulders of his bearer and repeatedly falling back, held a little address, in the course of which he waved his hat about at great speed, this way and that. That was very clearly visible, because while he spoke, all the car headlamps had been turned on to him, so that he found himself at the centre of a bright star.

Now too you could see the interest the whole street took in the occasion. On balconies that were occupied by partisans of the candidate, they began chanting his name and clapping their hands mechanically, leaning far over their railings. On the other balconies, which were actually the greater number, there was a strong counter-chant, which admittedly had no united effect, as these were supporters of several different candidates. On the other hand, all the opponents of the present candidate went on to unite in a general whistling, and even gramophones were turned on in many places. Between individual balconies political arguments were carried on with a vehemence that was accentuated by the late hour. The majority were already dressed for bed and had coats thrown over their shoulders, the women draped themselves in large dark cloths, the unattended children clambered alarmingly on the outside of the balconies, and emerged in ever-growing numbers from the darkened rooms, in which they had already been sleeping. Occasionally, odd unidentifiable items were thrown by particularly irate parties in the direction of their enemies, sometimes these hit, but for the most part they fell into the street below, often provoking cries of rage. If it got too noisy down below for the leading men, then the drummers and trumpeters were ordered to strike up, and their seemingly never-ending bra.s.sy fanfare, executed with all their strength, suppressed all human voices right up to the rooftops. And then, when all of a sudden you could hardly believe it they stopped, the obviously well-drilled crowd on the street roared out their party song into the momentary silence in the light of the headlamps you could see the mouths of everyone wide open until their opponents, recovering themselves, roared back ten times as loud as before from all the balconies and windows, and brought the party below, after their brief triumph, to complete silence, at least from what you could tell up there.

'Well, how do you like it, little fellow?' asked Brunelda, who was swivelling this way and that at Karl's back, to see all she could with her binoculars. Karl merely gave a nod back. He noticed out of the corner of his eyes how Robinson was eagerly giving Delamarche various reports evidently to do with Karl's behaviour, but Delamarche obviously seemed to think them completely unimportant, because with his left hand he was embracing Brunelda with the right he kept trying to push him away. 'Wouldn't you like to try looking through the gla.s.ses?' asked Brunelda, and tapped Karl on the chest, to show that she meant him.

'I can see well enough,' said Karl.

'Try it,' she said, 'you'll have a better view.'

'My eyesight is very good,' replied Karl, 'I can see it all.' He didn't find it a kindness, more a nuisance when she put the gla.s.ses up to his eyes and said just the one word 'You!' melodiously, but also with menace. And then Karl had the gla.s.ses in front of him, and could see nothing at all.

'I can't see a thing,' he said, and tried to remove the gla.s.ses, but she held them in place, while his head, was so cus.h.i.+oned on her breast he could move it neither sideways nor back.

'But now you can see,' she said, and turned the screw on the gla.s.ses.

'No, I still can't see anything,' said Karl, and thought that, even without wanting to, he had indeed relieved Robinson, because Brunelda's insufferable moods were now being taken out on him.

'When are you going to be able to see?' she said, and went on Karl now had his whole face in her heavy breathing turning at the screw. 'Now?' she asked.

'No, no, no!' cried Karl, even though in fact, he could, still dimly, begin to make out the scene. But just then Brunelda had some business with Delamarche, she held the gla.s.ses more loosely in front of Karl's face, and Karl could, without her particularly minding it, look out from under the gla.s.ses down on to the street. After that she no longer insisted on having her way, and used the gla.s.ses for herself.

Down below a waiter had stepped out of the bar and rus.h.i.+ng from side to side on the doorstep, was taking the orders of the leaders. You could see him straining to look back in the direction of the bar, and call over as much a.s.sistance as he could muster. In the course of what were obviously preparations for a great round of free drinks the candidate never stopped speaking for a moment. His bearer, the colossal man who seemed to be subordinate exclusively to him, kept making little turns after every few sentences, to distribute the speech equally to all parts of the crowd. The candidate's position was generally hunched over and he tried with jerky movements of his free hand, and with his top hat in the other, to lend emphasis to what he was saying. Sometimes, almost at regular intervals, he went into a kind of convulsion, he rose up with outspread arms, he no longer addressed a group but the generality, he spoke to the dwellers of the houses right up to the topmost storeys, and yet it was perfectly obvious that even in the lowest floors no one could hear him, yes, and that even had the possibility existed, no one wanted to hear him, because every window and every balcony was tenanted by at least one shouting speaker of its own. By now a few waiters had emerged from the bar with a board the size of a billiard table, weighed down with filled and s.h.i.+ning gla.s.ses. The leaders organized their distribution, which took place in the form of a march past the door of the bar. But even though the gla.s.ses on the board kept being refilled, they weren't enough for the crowd, and two lines of barmen had to slip out to either side of the board to serve the crowd. The candidate had of course stopped speaking by now, and was using the pause to get his strength back. His bearer was carrying him slowly back and forth away from the crowd and the bright lights, and only a few of his closest a.s.sociates accompanied him and spoke up to him.

'Look at the little chap,' said Branelda. 'He's forgotten where he is for looking.' And she took Karl by surprise, and with both hands turned his face towards her, so that she was looking straight into his eyes. It lasted only for a second, though, because Karl quickly shook off her hands, and annoyed not to be left in peace even for a little while, and at the same time longing to go down to the street and see everything up close, he tried with all his might to free himself from Brunelda's pressure, and said: 'Please let me go.'

'You're saying with us,' said Delamarche, without taking his eye off the street, merely extending a hand to prevent Karl from going.

'It's all right,' said Branelda, and pushed Delamarche's hand away, 'he wants to stay.' And she pressed Karl even harder against the railing, he would have had to fight her to get free of her. And even if he'd succeeded in that, what would he have accomplished. To his left was Delamarche, Robinson was to his right, he was well and truly imprisoned.

'You should be thankful we're not throwing you out,' said Robinson, and tapped at Karl with the hand he had pushed through under Brunelda's arm.

'Throwing you out?' said Delamarche. 'A runaway thief isn't thrown out. He's handed over to the police. And that can happen as early as tomorrow morning, unless he keeps absolutely quiet.'

From that moment on, Karl could take no more pleasure in the spectacle down below. He leaned over the railing a bit but only because he was forced to, unable to stand upright because of Brunelda. Full of his own worries, with a distracted gaze, he watched the people down there as they went up to the bar door in groups of twenty or so, took their gla.s.ses, turned and raised them in the direction of the now preoccupied candidate, called out a party greeting, emptied their gla.s.ses and set them down on the board, surely with a crash, but inaudibly at this height, and then made way for a new, rowdy and impatient, group. At the instruction of the leaders, the band, who had been playing inside the bar, now stepped out on to the street, their large bra.s.s instruments glittered in the midst of the dark crowd, but their playing was all but drowned by the general hubbub. The street, at least the opposite side of it where the bar was, was filled with people almost as far as you could see. They were streaming down from the heights, where Karl had driven along in the car that morning, and they were coming up the hill from the bridge, and even the people in the buildings had been unable to resist the temptation to take a hand in the proceedings themselves, the balconies and windows were now occupied almost exclusively by women and children, while the men were swarming out through the entrances. But now the music and the hospitality had achieved their objective, the crowd was big enough, a leader flanked by two car headlights motioned to the music to stop, emitted a piercing whistle, and you could now see the somewhat errant bearer with the candidate hurrying down through a s.p.a.ce cleared for him by his supporters.

The moment he reached the door of the bar, the candidate, in the beam of a tight circle of headlamps, embarked on his next speech. But now everything was much harder than before, the bearer no longer had the slightest freedom of movement, the crush was too great. The closest supporters, who previously had tried everything to contribute to the effectiveness of the candidate's speech, were now struggling to remain in his proximity, some twenty of them were desperately clinging on to the bearer. But strong as he was, he couldn't take a single step as he pleased, there was no possibility of influencing the crowd by revolving or advancing or retreating at given moments. The crowd was in chaotic flux, each man was leaning against his neighbour, none was standing upright any more, the opponents seemed to have gained strength greatly from the new arrivals, the bearer had stood long in the vicinity of the bar door, but now, apparently unresistingly, he allowed himself to drift up and down the street, the candidate was speaking all the time, but it wasn't quite clear any more whether he was laying out his programme or asking for help, and there was every indication that a rival candidate had appeared, or even several, because from time to time in a sudden blaze of light you could see a man raised aloft in the crowd, speaking with pale face and clenched fists to loud cheers of approval.

'What's going on now?' asked Karl, turning in breathless confusion to his guards.

'The little one's all excited,' said Brunelda to Delamarche, and took Karl by the chin to pull his head over to her. But Karl wasn't willing, and, with a ruthlessness inspired by the goings-on below, he shook himself so hard that Brunelda not only let go of him, but shrank back and set him free. 'You've seen enough now,' she said, obviously angered by Karl's behaviour, 'go inside, make the beds and get everything ready for the night.' She pointed to the room. That was the direction Karl had wanted to go in for several hours now, and he did not demur. Then was heard from the street the crunch of breaking gla.s.s. Unable to resist, Karl leapt back to the railing for a last quick look down. The opponents had mounted an attack, perhaps even a decisive attack, and the car headlamps of the supporters, whose powerful beams had ensured that at least the princ.i.p.al actions took place in full view of the public, and thus kept everything within bounds, had all been smashed at once, the candidate and his bearer were now caught in the same general, uncertain illumination, whose sudden expansion had the same effect as utter darkness. You couldn't have said, even approximately, where the candidate was, and the deceptiveness of the dark was actually heightened by a swelling, universal chant that was moving up from the area of the bridge.

'Didn't I tell you what you had to do,' said Brunelda, 'hurry up. I'm tired,' she added, and stretched her arms up in the air, so that her b.r.e.a.s.t.s arced even more p.r.o.nouncedly than they did otherwise. Delamarche, who was still holding her in his embrace, pulled her across to a corner of the balcony. Robinson went after them, to remove the last traces of his meal, which he had left there.

Karl had to make the most of this favourable opportunity, this was not the time to go on looking down, he would see enough of the goings-on in the street when he got there himself, far more than from up here. In a couple of bounds he hurried through the reddish illuminated room, but the door was locked and the key had been removed. That had to be found now, but how could anyone find a key in all this mess, still less in whatever precious little time Karl had at his disposal. He should have been on the stairs by now, running for all he was worth. But instead he was looking for the key! He looked in all the drawers he could find, rummaged around on the table where various items of cutlery, napkins and a half-completed piece of embroidery were all lying around, was attracted by an easy chair on which was a balled-up pile of old clothes, where the key might perhaps be lurking, but could never be found, finally throwing himself on the sofa which did indeed have an awful smell to grope in all its corners and crannies for the key. Then he stopped his search and stood still in the middle of the room. Brunelda must have the key attached to her belt, he told himself, she had so many things hanging there, all his searching was in vain.

And blindly Karl grabbed a couple of knives and pushed them in between the two wings of the door, one at the top, one at the bottom, so that he might have two separate points of attack. No sooner had he begun to lever on the knives, than of course their blades snapped off. He could have wished for nothing better, their stumps, which he would be able to drive in deeper, would hold more securely. And then with all his strength he pulled, arms and legs wide apart, groaning and watching the door like a hawk. It wouldn't be able to withstand him forever, he realized that with delight from the audible loosening of the lock, but the more slowly it happened, the better for him, the lock mustn't burst open, because then they would hear it from the balcony, rather he had to loosen the lock very slowly, and Karl was working towards that end with immense care, his eyes closer and closer to the lock.

'Will you look at that,' he heard the voice of Delamarche saying. All three of them were in the room, the curtains had been drawn behind them already, Karl must have failed to hear them come in, and at the sight his hands let go of the knives. He had no time to offer a word of explanation or apology, because in a fit of rage that went far beyond the immediate situation, Delamarche his loose dressing-gown cord describing a great arc in the air flew at Karl. Karl was able to get out of the way of the attack at the last moment, he might have pulled the knives out of the door, but he didn't, instead crouching and leaping up in the air, he s.n.a.t.c.hed the broad collar of Delamarche's dressing-gown, pulled it up and then pulled it higher the dressing-gown was far too big for Delamarche after all and now happily he had Delamarche's head in his grip, who, completely taken by surprise, first groped about blindly with his hands, and after a little while but still not very effectively began to batter Karl's back with his fists, who, to protect his face, had thrown himself at Delamarche's chest. Karl could stand the buffeting, though he was squirming with pain, and the blows were getting stronger all the time, but then how could he not have done, he had victory in his sights. With his hands on Delamarche's head, his thumbs probably directly over his eyes, he pulled him along in front of him into the worst of the furniture chaos, at the same time trying with his feet to loop the dressing cord round Delamarche's ankles, and so bring him to a fall.

Thus entirely preoccupied with Delamarche, especially as he could feel his resistance growing stronger by the minute, felt his sinewy enemy body pressing against his more powerfully all the time, he quite forgot he wasn't alone with Delamarche. But all too soon he was reminded of the fact, because all at once he felt his feet going from under him, Robinson, throwing himself to the ground behind him, was pus.h.i.+ng them apart and shouting. With a sigh, Karl let go of Delamarche, who took a further step back, Brunelda was standing there, feet apart, knees bent, in all her breadth in the middle of the room, observing the goings-on with s.h.i.+ning eyes. As though partic.i.p.ating in the fight herself, she was panting, moving her fists and glowering. Delamarche folded his collar down, now he could see again, and now the fight as such was over, and what followed was merely punishment. He grabbed Karl by his s.h.i.+rt front, almost lifted him off his feet, and hurled him, not even deigning to look at him as he did, with such force against a cupboard just a couple of paces away, that at first Karl thought that the piercing pains in his head and back from his impact against the closet were caused directly by Delamarche's hand. 'You rotter!' he heard Delamarche call out as it grew dark in front of his eyes. And collapsing in exhaustion in front of the closet he heard the words 'just you wait' like a distant echo in his ears.

When he regained consciousness, everything was in darkness, it was probably deep in the night, from the balcony a pale glimmer of moonlight crept into the room under the curtain. You could hear the calm breathing of the three sleepers, the loudest of whom by far was Brunelda, she snorted in her sleep, as she did occasionally while speaking; but it wasn't easy to tell where each of the three was, as the whole room was filled with the sounds of their breathing. Only after examining his surroundings a little did Karl think of himself, and then he got a great shock, because though he felt quite crooked and stiff with pain, it hadn't occurred to him that he might have sustained a serious and b.l.o.o.d.y injury. But now he had the feeling of a weight on his head, and his whole face, his throat, his chest under his s.h.i.+rt felt moist with blood. He had to get to the light, to find out the extent of his injuries, perhaps he had been crippled for life, then Delamarche would probably let him go, but what would he do, there were really no prospects for him then. The fellow in the gateway with the chewed-up nose came to mind, and for a moment he buried his face in his hands.

Automatically he first turned towards the door, and groped his way there on all fours. Before long, he came upon a boot with his fingertips, and then a leg. That had to be Robinson, who else would sleep in his boots? He had been ordered to lie across the doorway to prevent Karl from escaping. But did they not know what condition he was in? What he wanted now wasn't to escape, but to get at the light. If he couldn't get out by the door, he would have to go out on the balcony.

The dining-table was obviously somewhere completely different from where it had been in the evening, the sofa, which Karl of course approached with extreme caution was surprisingly enough unoccupied, but instead, in the middle of the room he encountered a high pile of albeit crushed clothes, blankets, curtains, pillows and rugs. To begin with he thought it was just a little pile like the one he had found on the sofa in the evening, and that had maybe rolled down on to the floor, but to his amazement, as he crept on, he realized it was a whole cartload of such stuff that had probably been taken out of the boxes for the night, where it was kept in the daytime. He crawled round the pile and soon recognized that the whole thing was a kind of bed, high on top of which, as his most cautious probing told him, Delamarche and Brunelda were resting.

So now he knew where everyone was sleeping, and he made haste to get out on the balcony. It was a completely different world in which, once past the curtain, he quickly got to his feet. In the cool night air, by the full light of the moon, he paced up and down the balcony a few times. He looked down at the street, it was completely quiet, music still sounded from the bar, but only quietly, outside the door a man was sweeping the pavement, in the street where in the evening amidst the confused general babble the shouting of an election candidate couldn't be told from a thousand other voices, you could now hear the scratching of a broom on the paving stones.

The sound of a table being moved on the neighbouring balcony alerted Karl to the fact that there was someone sitting there, studying. It was a young man with a goatee beard which he kept twirling as he read, with rapid lip movements. He sat, facing Karl, at a small table covered with books, he had taken the lamp off the wall, and jammed it between two large books, and was bathed in its harsh light.

'Good evening,' said Karl, thinking he had seen the young man looking across at him.

But he must have been mistaken, because the young man seemed not to have noticed him at all, s.h.i.+elded his eyes with his hand to avoid the glare of the light and see who had suddenly greeted him, and then, still not seeing anything, picked the lamp up to shed a little of its light on the balcony next door.

At length he replied 'Good evening,' glowered for an instant, and added: 'Will that be all?'

'Am I disturbing you?' asked Karl.

'Absolutely, absolutely,' said the man, returning the lamp to its former spot.

With those words any attempt at contact had been rejected, but still Karl didn't leave the corner of the balcony nearest to the man. He looked silently across as the man read his book, turned the pages, occasionally looked something up in another book which he always took down with lightning speed, and several times jotted something down in a notebook, bending surprisingly low over it as he did.

Could this man be a student? He gave every appearance of studying. In much the same way a long time ago now Karl had sat at the table in his parents' home, doing his homework, while his father read the paper or did the bookkeeping and correspondence for a club, and his mother busied herself with some sewing, pulling the thread high up into the air. In order not to impede his father, Karl kept only his notebook and his pens on the table, and his other books on chairs to either side of him. How quiet it had been there! How rarely strangers had set foot in that room! Even as a little boy, Karl had always liked it in the evening when his mother locked the front door with her key. What would she say if she knew that her Karl was now reduced to trying to prise open strange doors with knives.

And what had been the point of all his studying! He had forgotten everything; if he'd had to take up his studies again here, he would have found it very hard. He remembered how once he had been ill at home for a month and how hard it had been then to make up for the lost time. And now, apart from his English business correspondence textbook, it was such a long time since he'd read a book.

'You, young man,' Karl suddenly heard himself being addressed, 'couldn't you go somewhere else? You're bothering me no end, the way you're standing and staring at me. It's two in the morning: surely it's not too much to ask, to be allowed to study in peace on my own balcony. Is there something you want from me?'

'You're studying?' asked Karl.

'Yes, yes,' said the man, and used these few moments that were lost for studying to rearrange his books.

'Then I won't trouble you,' said Karl. 'I was going to go back inside anyway. Good night.'

The man didn't even reply, with a sudden resolve after the removal of the distraction, he had returned to his studies, and propped his forehead on his right hand.

Then, just by the curtain, Karl remembered why he had come outside in the first place, he didn't even know yet about his state of health. What was it pressing down on his head? He put up his hand, and was surprised, there was no b.l.o.o.d.y wound as he had feared in the dark room, it was nothing more than a still damp turban-like bandage. To judge from the odd sc.r.a.ps of lace still dangling from it, it must have been torn from some old undergarment of Brunelda's, that Robinson had quickly wound round Karl's head. Only he'd forgotten to wring it dry, and so, while Karl had lain unconscious, all the water had run down his face and under his s.h.i.+rt, and so given Karl such a fright.

'You're not still there?' asked the man, blinking at him.

'I'm just on my way,' said Karl, 'I just wanted to look at something, it's pitch dark in the room.'

'Who are you anyway?' said the man, and laid his pen down on his open book, and walked up to the railing. 'What's your name? How did you come to be with those people? Have you been here long? What did you want to look at? Turn your lamp on, so that I can have a look at you.'

Karl did so, but before he replied, he pulled the curtain across a little more, so that they wouldn't notice anything indoors. 'Excuse me,' he said in a whisper, 'for talking so quietly. If they hear me in there, I'll be in trouble again.'

'Again?' asked the man.

'Yes,' said Karl, 'earlier this evening I had a great fight with them. I must have a terrible b.u.mp there.' And he felt the back of his head.