She tried to smile but there was fear in her smile. I recognised it very well.
“You sleep it off, and tomorrow Elinor’ll be with you as much as you like. After all, you’re an educated man, sir.”
“Call the girl,” I said obstinately, and as she started to protest again: “All right, then I’ll go up to her myself.”
I pushed the landlady aside. “I’ll call Elinor,” she said quickly. “Please sit down on the sofa for a moment. Elinor’ll come immediately.”
“Stop!” I cried as the landlady made to go upstairs. “You call her from down here. You’re not leaving this bar-room. Any one leaving this room will be shot.”
I reached into my pocket as if I had a gun there. The landlady screamed softly.
“Now you know,” I said darkly. “Go on, call her.”
The landlady called. She had to call several times before an answer came from above. Elinor slept heavily.
“You’ve got to come down, Elinor!” called the landlady. “Be quick, will you?”
“That’s better,” I said, with the face of an examining magistrate. “And now, one question: have you any Black Forest plum-brandy?”
“No,” said the landlady, and as she saw my furious expression, she added, “but we’ve got some kirsch, that’s much better.”
“Nothing’s better than plum-brandy, but bring me your kirsch, anyway.”
She brought it, bottle and glass shaking in her hand.
“That’s it,” I said, and drank. My mood brightened; it really was almost better. “And now sit down and tell me who else is in the house besides yourself.”
“Only Elinor, really, besides myself there’s only Elinor.”
“You’re lying!” I cried furiously. “Don’t you try to lie to me again, or something will happen!” And I reached in my pocket again. And again she screamed softly.
I continued inexorably, “I saw a woman the last time I was here, with shaggy hair and a red nose …”
“Oh, you mean Marie,” cried the landlady, relieved, “but sir, what do you want to upset yourself for and frighten me like this. I’m not trying to tell you lies; Marie only helps here. She lives in the village with her parents.”
“Well,” I said, pacified, “if that’s the case, I’ll forgive you this time.”
I drank.
“This kirsch isn’t bad. It’s quite good, even.”
“Isn’t it, isn’t it?” said the landlady eagerly. “I’m doing all I can to satisfy you. I’m getting the girl out of her bed in the middle of the night. But now you’ve got to be nice too, and not threaten me with that gun any more. Best thing would be to put it away. A thing like that goes off easily, and you wouldn’t want that; you’re a good respectable gentleman …”
Before I could protest against this new insult, for I was determined not to be good, but awe-inspiring and wicked, and to show my power over people, before I could get angry again, Elinor’s firm tread was heard on the stairs; and she stepped into the light. She was fully dressed, only her dark hair was not done up but combed to the back. She looked more beautiful than ever.
“Elinor!” I cried, “my queen!”
Just for a moment she started, seeing me there with the landlady in that untidy room; and then this astonishing girl did exactly the right thing, as if she knew everything that had happened: she ran up to me, embraced me, gave me a kiss on the right cheek and a kiss on the left, and cried happily: “Why, it’s pop! Good old boozy pop! Now we can have fun, eh, Mother Schulze? Now we’ll have some champagne!”
“Champagne,” I cried. “Of course we’ll have champagne. As much as you like. I’ve got lots of money. Elinor, you’re my best girl, you know I love you. You’re my queen, and now we’ll go off on our travels. Elinor, give me another kiss, but right in the middle of the mouth!”
She did so. I felt her breast against mine, I was happy. At last alcohol had brought me complete happiness. I saw only Elinor, I felt only Elinor, I thought and spoke only Elinor. I did not notice that, despite my stern threat of death, the landlady had long since left the bar-room.
23
I do not know how long I had been like that in Elinor’s arms. I had her huge white face with its high-arched eyebrows quite close to mine, it leaned over me—and the whole world sank away. Her eyes, no longer colourless but glittering green, looked at me, and I felt a trembling within me, to the innermost part of my bones. My heart fluttered like a poplar-leaf in the breeze.
“Oh Elinor, forgive me! I’ve never loved like this before. I never knew that such a thing existed. You make me weak and strong; when your breath touches me I feel as if a storm was blowing through me, blowing away all the dry old leaves of the past. Through you, I have become new again—come, let’s get away from here, let’s get away from the past! We’ll go to the South, where the sun always shines, and the sky’s always blue. White castles on the vine-slopes! That’s where we’ll go! Come with me! I’ve got a little brief-case outside, but there’s enough in it. Come with me as you are, we’ll get away, this very minute. I’m afraid something dreadful will happen if we stay here any longer. They wouldn’t allow you to be with me. Come, let’s go, my relentless paleface, ma reine d’alcool. To you, and long may you live, from the bottom of my heart, I drink to you.”
I looked at her, beaming. Then, deeply disturbed: “Why don’t we go now?” She passed her hand caressingly, soothingly, through my hair. She was sitting on my lap, she had one arm round my neck, her tenderness hid the world from me.
She said softly: “We’ll go soon, pop, soon. There’s a train goes from the station at six o’clock. Till then, you must be patient, pop. We’re all right sitting here, aren’t we?”
I nestled closer to her. I laid my head against her breast, I felt sheltered there, like a child with its mother.
“Of course we’re all right here. But we’ll go at six o’clock, we’ll travel far, far from here. We’ll never want to see any of this again. In the South, we shall love … we shall always love each other.…”
She looked into my eyes, so near, it seemed to be one single eye, that became blurred as if I had looked into the sun.
She whispered close to my ear: “Yes, I will travel with you, pop. But you won’t drink all the time then, will you? I hate men who are always drunk. They disgust me.”
“I’ll never drink any more, once I’ve got you; not a drop more. You’re better than wine or schnaps. You’re like fire in me. You make the whole world dance. Your health, my queen!”
“Your health, my old pop! We’ll go travelling. But shall we have enough money for such a long journey? We shan’t want to have to work.”
“Money?” I asked contemptuously. “Money? Money enough for both of us. Money for all the journeys and the longest life!”
And I tore the notes out of my pocket. It really was quite a bundle. Elinor took them from my hand, smoothed out the notes and arranged them for counting.
“Eight hundred and sixty-three marks,” she said at last, and looked at me thoughtfully, with knitted brows. “That’s not very much money, pop. Not enough for us to go on a long journey, and live together without working. Is that all the money you’ve got?”
For a moment I was somewhat sobered. I passed my hand over my forehead, and looked with aversion at the bundle of dirty scraps that Elinor held in her hand.
“Somebody’s stolen my money, Elinor,” I said sullenly. “Some scoundrel has stolen from me five times, ten times more money than you’ve got in your hand. And all my things in a cowhide suitcase, and our silver, it’s all gone. Whatever will Magda say?”