“No, no, it's not alone. The Captain apparently got wind through his uncle - and made all sorts of things about me at table.”
“These are imaginings, dear friend.”
“Not at all. I know for sure now. And you should convince yourself; I invite you to dine with me today.”
Of course, this invitation was very undesirable to me; but since he insisted, and I also had to fear that he would be in the mood in which he was without my company to a sensational move could be carried away, so I finally agreed.
The dining room in the hotel to the English court was visited little in the late afternoon. At one o'clock in the afternoon, at seven o'clock in the evening, Wirtstafel took place there, in which a mixed company, mostly consisting of strangers, took part; during the remaining hours, guests rarely came. But regularly between four and five o'clock, the officers of the fire-patch, along with other cavalrymen who were in Prague, dined at a long table prepared especially for them. Among the latter was an illustrious cuirassier named Schorff, who was assigned to the general's command of the commander, but was actually only used on certain occasions as a galopin, a military sinecure whom he knows how to conquer. He was generally called the “American,” although he was born in Germany; but his father was said to have acquired a fabulous fortune in the mines of California. Others claimed that he had been a game tenant in Homburg. No matter, the young Baron Schorff - even so he was called, without being known - received from the house true enormous sums of money, which he spent in the most striking manner. He had the most beautiful and strongest riding horses, a magnificent four-in-hand train, kept a box in the theater, several mistresses and so on. He was a player and a brawler of the worst sort, whom everyone liked to avoid; even the women, who are otherwise attracted to such apparitions, evaded him with a sort of horror. Others claimed that he had been a game tenant in Homburg. No matter, the young Baron Schorff - even so he was called, without being known - received from the house true enormous sums of money, which he spent in the most striking manner. He had the most beautiful and strongest riding horses, a magnificent four-in-hand train, kept a box in the theater, several mistresses and so on. He was a player and a brawler of the worst sort, whom everyone liked to avoid; even the women, who are otherwise attracted to such apparitions, evaded him with a sort of horror. Others claimed that he had been a game tenant in Homburg. No matter, the young Baron Schorff - even so he was called, without being known - received from the house true enormous sums of money, which he spent in the most striking manner. He had the most beautiful and strongest riding horses, a magnificent four-in-hand train, kept a box in the theater, several mistresses and so on. He was a player and a brawler of the worst sort, whom everyone liked to avoid; even the women, who are otherwise attracted to such apparitions, evaded him with a sort of horror. a magnificent four-in-hand, holding a box in the theater, several mistresses and so on. He was a player and a brawler of the worst sort, whom everyone liked to avoid; even the women, who are otherwise attracted to such apparitions, evaded him with a sort of horror. a magnificent four-in-hand, holding a box in the theater, several mistresses and so on. He was a player and a brawler of the worst sort, whom everyone liked to avoid; even the women, who are otherwise attracted to such apparitions, evaded him with a sort of horror.
It was just over five when Burda and I appeared at the English Court. The cavalry had already been fed off; Coffee and liquor have just been served. But the company did not seem to be in the mood for a merry banquet, which obviously took place. One still had Champagne glasses in front of him, which were filled again. There was a loud, exuberant cheerfulness, in such a way that our entrance, as well as the greeting, which we presented, did not notice - or at least was overlooked.
Burda gave me a meaningful look. Then he approached the table and shouted, “Gentlemen, we have greeted you, and I ask you to reciprocate our greeting in an appropriate manner.”
The company raised their heads and looked at him in surprise. But Schorff, who was there, jumped up, flinging the monocle he was constantly looking at with an artful jolt, bowing in a most grotesque manner to Burda, saying in his Rhineland pronunciation: “We have the honor of paying our respects to the Lieutenant.”
“I forbid such jokes, Lieutenant,” replied Burda with deliberate evasion of the comradely Du, “and remind you of the respect you owe to your superior.”
“What? What's that? “Shouted Schorff, his broad, beardless face turning purple as he stared defiantly at Burda with the glass tucked in again.
“Captain,” said he, turning to the young Count Z, who sat at the top, “I urge you to use your reputation and reproach Lieutenant Schorff with the improper conduct of his behavior.”
The Captain took on a sour-smiled face and tugged sheepishly at the thin hair on his upper lip. Schorff, however, turned against him and said: “Have you heard, Count? You are to give me a reprimand - but rather tell the enchanted prince that he should be careful, otherwise I might grab his hip.”
Despite the embarrassing situation, these words aroused a certain cheerfulness; some even laughed out loud.
Burda had turned corpse-pale.
“That's infamous!” He shrieked now. “They behave like boys all together!”
Now an indescribable scene followed. The cavalrymen had jumped up to throw themselves at Burda, who was gripping his saber. Schorff reached with his wrong hand for a bottle of champagne, which was in the ice bucket - the worst assaults, a bloody carnage were imminent.
But at that moment, too, I had found the necessary presence of mind and intervened. “Gentlemen,” I exclaimed, “I ask you to remember where we are! Already attentive.”
It was like this. A waiter who had just come in had stopped in the doorway with his mouth open. Behind him appeared a second, a third; even in front of the open windows of the ground-floor hall, some curious people had gathered in the street to search for the cause of the noise.
That worked. The cavalrymen, albeit reluctantly, took their seats again.
“Each of us now knows what has to happen,” I continued, putting a card down on the table. Burda, trembling with excitement, did the same; We then settled in a distant corner of the hall and ordered our dinner.
There was a dark silence beyond, only Schorff still did not want to settle for anything and could only be appeased with difficulty in his repeated low-pitched tantrums. Finally, we got up and left without looking at each other.
“That's a nice gift,” I said after a pause.
“Are you afraid, perhaps?” Replied Burda sharply. He had already become completely calm, and a peculiar satisfaction shone from his gray eyes.
“I'm afraid for you,” I said seriously. “You will now have to beat yourself several times in a row.”
“The more often, the better! That's just what I intended!”
I could not help but look at him with admiration. What he was talking about was by no means a boast. It was, I felt, genuine courage, though perhaps the motto of Don Quixote, who took it on his own with whole armies.
“Yes,” continued Burda, making a very good appetite for the dish that had just been put before us, “yes, it should cause a stir - it shall and will become a cause célèbre !”
I understood him. He considered what impression this cause célèbre would make on the princess - and then he was happy again in the old way.
“You should not think about that now,” I said disillusioned. And with a sudden thought, I added, “Who knows, by the way, whether everything really comes as we suppose.”
“How so? Why? “He asked hastily.
“Well, maybe all these gentlemen are more than happy to get behind Schorff - and let him handle the whole thing on his own.”
“Oho! I have one word to say as well!”
“Indeed. But you will not be able to prevent Schorff from beginning.”
He raised his head and frowned at me.
“What do you mean by that?”
I said nothing because I da
red not say that Schorff was a very dangerous opponent. “Well, he's a well-known bastard,” I finally said lightly.
“That may be him. We too are leading our blade. It is fatal, however, that just this cheeky, inflated Plebejer has had to push forward. But if it can not be changed, after all! The Captain will not escape me.”
We arrived at the dessert, and after we had taken the coffee, Burda invited me to spend the evening with him on the Sophia Island, where today took place in front of a select audience outdoor concert.
IX.
The next morning a captain of the General Staff arrived in my apartment, accompanied by an artillery officer. They would come, said the gentlemen, as to the regrettable incident that had taken place yesterday in the English Court and which had already come to the knowledge of the military authorities. Wish high place that the matter be settled as quickly and easily as possible. Accordingly, as a result of an agreement reached on the part of all those who were insulted, they were empowered to act as cartel members of Mr Leutnant Schorff, stating that he intended to carry it out in the name of all the others.
So, as I foresaw, and although calmly considered, this procedure was the most sensible of all, there was a kind of contempt for Burda, which I co-opted against.
“I do not think that Lieutenant Burda will respond to this premise,” I said.
“He will not want to beat each one of them?” The captain shouted, opening his eyes to express his surprise.
“Depending on.”
“My God!” He replied, shrugging his shoulders. “However, that will happen. For now, however, we have to adhere to our order all the more as Lieutenant Schorff is the main defendant.”
There was no objection to that, and the gunner provided a fencing-room for the duel, which, as he announced, was connected with his official residence on the Hradschin, and was especially suitable for such purposes. -
“You answered them very well,” Burda said as I told him this conversation. “I thank you. In any case, as far as I am concerned, I will do it to the utmost. However, I run the risk of being crippled. But I trust my star.”
Pistolenduelle were not common in the army at that time; One almost always struck himself with sabers, a mode of fighting which usually excluded the killing of the opponent, but at least brought about a very regrettable outcome. This was now also considered in the regiment, where the bad mood against Burda had suddenly turned into active participation. His manly demeanor against the cavalry, which evoked a sort of shared pride, impressed most, and there was no lack of signs of appreciation, which Burda accepted with great restraint. It was sincerely wished that he should win the ostrich, although he did not conceal how difficult this would be for a Schorff.
The next morning - it was a Sunday - I drove with Burda to Hradschin, where the second second with the surgeon had set off earlier. We were received by the artillery officer and escorted to a spacious room with rapiers, bats, masks, and plastrons hanging from the walls. In one corner a low cot had been set up in all cases; Ice basin and bandages were nearby. The captain of the general staff was already present; he checked, as we entered, just the two dueling sabers, which lay on a table. Also a second surgeon was present.
It was not long before we heard Schorff's four-in-hand train roll up, and soon afterwards he appeared in an upright position and with a short greeting in our midst. Then he shook his two seconds hand and began to undress.
When he took off his colorful woolen shirt, I marveled at the strength and fullness of his muscles, which stood out in striking development. With his broad neck and stocky neck, on which a comparatively small head sat, he had something of the Farnese Hercules, while Burda, who now also bared his upper body, with his delicate white skin, his lithe, somewhat soft forms, to the bust of the Antinous warned. It was peculiar to see how the opponents now confronted each other and exchanged the usual greeting. In the faces and gestures of Schorff lay impertinence, in those Burda's knightly condescension.
We gave the sign - and the fight began. Schorff, his glass in his eye, seemed to take the matter lightly; he evidently believed that every one of his blows, which he led only above, must immediately be seated. But he was wrong about that. Burda defended himself with great calmness and assurance, which apparently surprised Schorff, but also irritated him, and when he now began to bleed lightly on the ear of his opponent's sword, he became furious. With a veritable hail of tremendous tricks, he invaded Burda, though, that had trouble struggling and already began to breathe heavily. Now Schorff marked a prime, but in fact led a third, which hit so powerfully that a long, blood-dripping cleft immediately appeared on Burda's chest.
“Stop! Stop! “Shrieked the seconds and threw themselves in between. But too late. Because already had a huge head stroke followed. Burda staggered, his sword clanking to the ground-and immediately afterwards he followed, his face covered in blood.
“That's murder!” I exclaimed. Even the captain had turned pale and stammered: “But Schorff, what have you done?”
He turned on his heel and pushed through his clenched teeth: ” Il l'a voulu!“Then he washed a small trace of blood from his cheek, dressed, greeted, and left.
In the meantime the heavy hit person had been taken to the cot. There he lay unconscious and groaned softly while examining the wounds. They seemed so dangerous that both doctors working for Burda lost their heads, declaring that the worst was to be feared, and they could not take any further responsibility. The lieutenant had to be taken to the military hospital immediately. One of them also drove up there with the car we had come to in order to prepare, while the artillery (in whose barracks we were in) provided a stretcher with porters.
It was a sad return, which we began now, as evasive of public attention, after the Sunday quiet city. In the hospital a small, separate room had been found where Burda was taken. After the first quick examination, the chief physician explained that the chest wound was not much, but the skullcap was badly injured. Whether and how deeply the blow penetrated into the brain, would have to be further investigated, at least a highly dangerous inflammation is in prospect. He also informed the regimental adjutant, who had been commissioned by the colonel and accompanied by other officers, to make inquiries. Also from the other garrison, in which the customer had spread quickly from the unfortunate outcome of the duel, showed lively participation. But the doctor asked, one may now, to to avoid any sensation, to stop inquiries and visits; it would be transmitted at the right time messages. As I thought that my presence was not very desirable to him either, I went away as well, after having asked as a special friend of the wounded man permission to return in the evening.
In the late afternoon, when I entered the narrow, elongated room in which Burda lay, there was a melancholy gloom. Already in the inspection room I had learned that it was bad. He had repeatedly opened his eyes and tried to speak, but again and again he had fallen back into unconsciousness. Now I saw him on the poor bed, chest and head covered with ice compresses, eyes closed. He was assisted by a guard who, at the time of my appearance, was startled out of that stupid boredom that such a service usually brings with it. He made me regretful, changed the envelopes, and then said in a low voice that he wanted to get fresh ice cream now - and, with my permission, to take his supper, which was about to be distributed.
I was glad to be undisturbed for the first time, and told him to leave. Then I sat down some distance from the bed and looked at my poor friend, who indeed looked like a dying man, like a dead man. Deep pain overcame me, and it was joined by something, like a sense of guilt. Could not I have prevented that from happening? Should not I have long ago used everything to bring him back from his deceptions, what could it possibly be? But would I have, after all, what I experienced in him - experienced with him, really did? Would it even have been possible to cure him of his delusion? No, it was not possible! Everything had to come as it came: he was, like everyone else, the inexorable one Fates of his nature expire. And yet - in spite of his weaknesses
and defects, in spite of his errors - what a noble man he was! What a noble soul! What a brave heart! He deserved a better ticket...
It suddenly seemed to me that he was getting busy. And indeed, it was like this. With a slight groan he opened his eyes.
I quietly approached the bed and leaned over him.
“Who is - who is there?” He breathed.
I was struggling to recognize myself.
“Oh, you! You!” He managed with difficulty as a ray of joy swept his pale features. “I think I'm wounded,” he continued, making a faint attempt to move his hand to his head.
“Unfortunately,” I replied, “and not entirely irrelevant. Meanwhile - -”
“But where am I?” He continued, his eyes moving with difficulty. “That's not my room -”
“Though not; you are - you are in hospital - -”
“In the hospital!” He wanted to cry out, but could not and groaned only: “In the hospital - in the hospital - and if now -” He could not complete; his chin sank down to his chest, and he fell silent.
But I knew what he meant. With his reflection, that unhappy madness had returned. He had wanted to say: And if now the princess learns of my wounding - and hurries here -
“Where are my clothes?” He suddenly asked hastily, interrupting my train of thought.
“Your clothes? They'll probably be in that closet. - - There they are.”
“Please - look in my coat - if there is a small case - in there -”
“Here it is!”
“Give! Give up! “He urged.
I handed it to him. He was unable to open it, and I had to do it for him. There was a withered violet bouquet in it. He took it in his pale, feeble hand, lowered his head and studied it for a long time. Then, in a surprisingly light and free voice, he said, “Dear friend-you often gave me a more or less clear meaning-that I had been caught in a bad deception.” He sighed deeply. “My God! If it really did - if it was just a dream - imagination -”
Short Stories From Austria- Ferdinand Von Saar Page 6
