Anarchistbanjo's World

Alraune by Hanns Heinz Ewers and translated by Joe E Bandel

“As you will, your Excellency,” he said. “By the way, do you
know there is a rumor these days that the Műhlhelmer credit bank is
going to stop payments?”
“Nonsense,” he replied. “In any case I’ve scarcely put any
money into it.”
“You haven’t?” asked Herr Gontram, a little surprised. “For half
a year now you have kept that institution on a sound financial basis
with over eleven million. You did it to gain tighter control of the
potash industry! I, myself, was obliged to sell Princess Wolkonski’s
mines to fund the cause.”
His Excellency ten Brinken nodded, “The princess–well yes–am
I the princess?”
The Legal Councilor rocked his head thoughtfully.
“She will lose her money,” he murmured.
“What’s that to me,” cried the Privy Councilor. “Anyway, we
will see what can be saved.”
He stood up, drummed on the writing desk with his hand.
“You are right, Herr Legal Councilor. I should pay more
attention to my affairs. Please expect me at the office around six-
o’clock. I thank you.”
He shook hands and accompanied him to the door.
But he didn’t drive into the city that afternoon. Two lieutenants
came to tea, he kept finding reasons for going back into the room on
one pretext or another, couldn’t stand to go out of the house. He was
jealous of every man Alraune spoke with, of the chair she sat on and
the very carpet she walked on. He didn’t go the next day or the next.
The Legal Councilor sent one messenger after another. He sent
them away without an answer, disconnected his phone so he wouldn’t
get any more calls.
Then the Legal Councilor turned to Alraune, told her that it was
very important for the Privy Councilor to come into the office. She
rang for her car, sent her maid to the library to tell the Privy Councilor
to get ready for a drive into the city with her.
He trembled with joy. It was the first time in weeks that she had
gone driving with him. He donned his fur coat, went out into the
courtyard, opened the car door for her. She didn’t speak, but he was
happy enough to be permitted to sit next to her. She drove directly to
the office and told him to get out.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“Shopping,” she answered.
“Will you pick me back up?” he begged.
She laughed, “I don’t know, perhaps.”
He was grateful enough for the ‘perhaps’. He climbed up the
stairs and opened the door on the left to the Legal Councilor’s room.
“Here I am,” he said.
The Legal Councilor shoved the documents at him, a huge pile of
them.
“Here’s the junk,” he nodded, “a pretty collection. There are a
couple of old cases that for a long time appeared to be settled.
They’ve taken off again. There are also a couple of new ones since
the day before yesterday!”
The Privy Councilor sighed. “A bit much–would you give me a
report, Herr Legal Councilor?”
Gontram shook his head, “Wait until Manasse comes. He knows
more about them. He will be here soon. I’ve called for him. Right
now he is with the Examiner in the Hamecher case.”
“Hamecher?” asked the professor. “Who is that?”
“The tinker,” the Legal Councilor reminded him. “The expert
opinion of the doctor was very incriminating. The Public Prosecutor
has ordered an investigation–there lies the summons–by the way, it
appears to me that this case is the most important one right now.”
The Privy Councilor took up the documents and leafed through
them, one after the other. But he was restless, listened nervously at
every phone ring, every step that sounded through the hallway.
“I only have a little time,” he said.
The Legal Councilor shrugged his shoulders and calmly lit a
fresh cigar. They waited, but the attorney didn’t appear. Gontram
telephoned his office, then the court, but couldn’t reach him
anywhere.
The professor pushed the documents to the side.
“I can’t read them today,” he said. “I don’t have any interest in
them.”
“Perhaps you are sick, your Excellency,” opined the Legal
Councilor. He ordered some wine and seltzer water. Then the Fräulein
came. The Privy Councilor heard the auto drive up and stop. He
immediately sprang up and grabbed his fur coat. He met her coming
up the corridor.
“Are you ready?” she cried.
“Naturally,” he returned. “Completely.”
But the Legal Councilor stepped between them.
“It’s not true, Fräulein. We have not even begun. We are waiting
for Attorney Manasse.”
The old man exclaimed, “Nonsense! It is all entirely trivial. I’m
riding back with you, child.”
She looked at the Legal Councilor who spoke, “These papers
appear very important to me.”
“No, no,” insisted the Privy Councilor.
But Alraune decided. “You will stay! Adieu, Herr Gontram,” she
cried.
Then she turned around and ran down the stairs. He went back
into the room, stepped up to the window, watched her climb into the
car and leave. Then he stayed standing there, looking out onto the
street into the dusk.
Herr Gontram ordered the gaslights turned on, sat quietly in his
easy chair, smoked and drank his wine. They were still waiting when
the office closed. One after the other, the employees left, opened their
umbrellas and stepped carefully through the mud on the street.
Neither spoke a word.
Finally the attorney came, hurried up the stairs, tore open the
door.
“Good evening,” he growled, put his umbrella in a corner, pulled
off his galoshes, threw his wet jacket onto the sofa.
“High time, Herr Colleague,” said the Legal Councilor.
“High time, yes, it is certainly high time!” he came back.
He went right up to the Privy Councilor, stood right in front of
him and screamed in his face.
“The warrant is out!”
“What warrant?” hissed the Privy Councilor.
“What warrant?” mocked the attorney. “I’ve seen it with my own
eyes–the Hamecher case! It will be served early tomorrow morning at
the latest.”
“We must stand bail,” observed the Legal Councilor carelessly.
The little attorney spun around; “Don’t you think I already
thought of that!–I immediately offered to stand bail–half a million–
right away–denied! The mood has turned sour at the county court
your Excellency. I’ve always thought it would happen some day.
The judge was very cool and told me, ‘Please put your request in
writing, Herr Attorney. But I fear that you will have little luck with it.
Our evidence is overwhelming–and it appears that extreme care must
be taken.’
Those were his exact words! Not very edifying is it?”
He poured himself a full glass, emptied it in short gulps.
“I can tell you more, your Excellency! I met with Attorney Meir
II at court; he is our opposition in the Gerstenberg case. He also
represents the municipality of Huckingen, which filed suit against you
yesterday. I asked him to wait for me–then I had a long talk with him.
That is the reason I am so late getting here, Herr Colleague. He talked
straight with me–we are loyal to each other at county court, thank
God!
That’s when I learned the opposing lawyers have united, they
already had a long conference the day before yesterday. A couple of
newspaper reporters were there as well. One of them was sharp Dr.
Landmann from the General Advertiser. You know very well, your
Excellency, that you haven’t put a penny of money into that paper!
The roles are well divided. I tell you–this time you won’t get out
of the trap so easily!”
The Privy Councilor turned to Herrn Gontram.
“What do you think, Herr Legal Councilor?”
“Wait,” he declared. “There will be a way out of it.”
But Manasse screamed, “I tell you there is no way out of it! The
noose is knotted, it will tighten–you will hang, your Excellency, if
you don’t give the gallows ladder a quick shove ahead of time!”
“What do you advise then,” asked the professor.
“Exactly the same thing that I advised poor Dr. Mohnen, whom
you have on your conscience, your Excellency! That was a meanness
of you–yet what good does it do if I tell you the truth now?
I advise that you liquidate everything you possibly can. By the
way, we can do that without you. Pack your bags and clear out–
tonight! That’s what I advise.”
“They will issue a warrant,” opined the Legal Councilor.
“Certainly,” cried Manasse. “But they will not give it any special
urgency. I already spoke with Colleague Meir about it. He shares my
opinion. It is not in the interest of the opposition to create a scandal –
the authorities would be happy enough if they could avoid one as
well.
They only want to render you harmless, your Excellency, put an
end to your doings–and for that–believe you me–they now have the
means. But if you disappear, live somewhere in a foreign land, we
could wrap this thing up quietly. It would cost a lot of money–but
what does that matter? They would be lenient on you, even today yet.
It is really in their own interests to not throw this magnificent fodder
to the radical and socialistic press.”
He remained quiet, waiting for an answer. His Excellency ten
Brinken paced slowly back and forth across the room with heavy,
dragging steps.
“How long do you believe I must stay away?” he asked finally.
The little attorney turned around to face him, “How long!” he
barked. “What a question! For just as long as you live! You can be
happy that you still have this possibility at least. It will certainly be
more pleasant to spend your millions in a beautiful villa on the
Riviera than to finish out your life in prison! It will come to that, I
guarantee you!–By the way, the authorities themselves have opened
this little door for you. They could just as easily have issued the
warrant this morning. Then it would have already been carried out!
Damned decent of them, but they will be disgusted and take it very
badly if you don’t make use of this little door.
If they must act, they will act decisively. Then your Excellency,
this night will be your last night’s sleep as a free man.”
The Legal Councilor said, “Travel! After hearing all that it really
does seem to be the best thing.”
“Oh yes,” snapped Manasse. “The best–the best all the way
around, and the only thing as well, travel! Disappear–step out–never
to be seen again–and take the Fräulein, your daughter, along with
you–Lendenich will thank you for it and our city as well.”
The Privy Councilor pricked up his ears at that. For the first time
that evening a little life came into his features, penetrating through the
staring apathetic mask, flickering with a light nervous restlessness.
“Alraune,” he whispered. “Alraune–if she goes with–he wiped
his mighty brow with his coarse hand, twice, three times. He sank
down, asked for a glass of wine, and emptied it.
“I believe you are right, Gentlemen,” he said. “I thank you. Now
let’s get everything in order.”
He took the stack of documents and handed over the top one,
“The Karpen brickyards–If you please–”
The attorney began calmly, objectively, gave his report. He took
the next document in turn, weighed all the options, every slightest
chance for a defense, and the Privy Councilor listened to him, threw a
word in here and there, sometimes found a new possibility, like in the
old times.
With each case the professor became clearer, his reasoning better
thought out. Each new danger appeared to awaken and strengthen his
old resiliency. He separated out a number of cases as comparatively
harmless. But there still remained more than enough to get his neck
broken.
He dictated a couple of letters, gave a lot of instructions, made
notes to himself, outlined proposals and complaints–then he studied
the time tables with the Herren, making his travel plans, giving exact
instructions for the next meeting. As he left his office it was with the
conviction that his affairs were in order.
He took a hired car and drove back to Lendenich, confident and
self-assured. It was only as the servant opened the gate for him, as he
walked across the courtyard and up the steps of the mansion, it was
only then that his confidence left him.