“I know, dear boy, I know… .” Arthur was the picture of distress. “It’s been on the tip of my tongue several tirqes this last fortnight. But I didn’t want to worry you unnecessarily. I kept hoping that, somehow, it might all blow over.”
“Now, look here, Arthur; the point is this: does Schmidt really know anything about you which can do you harm?”
He had been nervously pacing the room, and now sank, a disconsolate shirtsleeved figure, into a chair, forlornly regarding his button-boots.
“Yes, William.” His voice was small and apologetic. “I’m afraid he does.”
“What sort of things does he know?”
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“Really, I … I don’t think, even for you, that I can go into the details of my hideous past.”
“I don’t want details. What I want to know is, could Schmidt get you involved in any kind of criminal charge?”
Arthur considered this for some moments, thoughtfully rubbing his chin.
“I don’t think he dare try it. No.”
“I’m not so sure,” I said. “He seemed to me to be in a pretty bad way. Desperate enough for anything. He looked as though he wasn’t getting much to eat.”
Arthur stood up again and began walking about the room, rapidly, with small anxious steps.
“Let’s keep quite calm, William. Let’s think this out together quietly.”
“Do you think, from your experience of Schmidt, that he’d keep quiet if you paid him a lump sum down to leave you alone?”
Arthur did not hesitate:
“I’m quite sure he wouldn’t. It would merely whet his appetite for my blood… . Oh dear, oh dear!”
“Suppose you left Germany altogether? Would he be able to get at you then?”
Arthur stopped short in the middle of a gesture of extreme agitation. ť
“No, I suppose … that is, no, quite definitely not.” He regarded me with dismay. “You aren’t suggesting I should do that, I hope?”
“It seems drastic. But what’s the alternative?”
“I see none. Certainly.”
“Neither do I.”
Arthur moved his shoulders in a shrug of despair.
“Yes, yes, my dear boy. It’s easy enough to say that. But where’s the money coming from?”
“I thought you were pretty well off now?” I pretended mild surprise. Arthur’s glance slid away, evasively, from beneath my own.
“Only under certain conditions.”
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“You mean, you can only earn money here?”
“Well, chiefly …” He didn’t like this catechism, and began to fidget. I could no longer resist trying a shot in the dark.
“But you get paid from Paris?”
I had scored a bull. Arthur’s dishonest blue eyes showed a startled flicker, but no more. Perhaps he wasn’t altogether unprepared for the question.
“My dear William, I haven’t the least idea what you’re talking about.”
I grinned.
“Never mind, Arthur. It’s no business of mine. I only want to help you, if I can.”
“It’s most kind of you, dear boy, I’m sure.” Arthur sighed. “This is all most difficult; most complicated… .”
“Well, we’ve got one point clear, at any rate… . Now, the best thing you can do is to send Schmidt some money at once, to keep him quiet. How much did he ask for?”
“A hundred down,” said Arthur in a subdued voice, “and then fifty a week.”
“I must say he’s got a nerve. Could you manage a hundred and fifty, do you think?”
“At a pinch, I suppose, yes. It goes against the grain.”
“I know. But this’ll save you ten times as much in the end. Now what I suggest is, you send him the hundred and fifty, with a letter promising him the balance on the first of January… .”
“Really, William …”
“Wait a minute. And meanwhile, you’ll arrange to be out of Germany before the end of December. That gives you three weeks’ grace. If you pay up meekly now, he won’t bother you again till then. He’ll think he’s got you in his pocket.”
“Yes. I suppose you’re right. I shall have to accustom myself to the idea. AH this is so sudden.” Arthur had a momentary flare-up of resentment. “That odious serpent! If
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ever I find an opportunity of dealing with him once for all …”
“Don’t you worry. He’ll come to a sticky end sooner or later. The chief problem, at present, is to raise this money for your journey. I suppose there isn’t anybody you could borrow it from?”
But Arthur was already following another train of thought.
“I shall find a way out of this somehow.” His tone was considerably brighter. “Just let me have time to think.”
While Arthur was thinking, a week went by. The weather didn’t improve. These dismal short days affected all our spirits. Frl. Schroeder complained of pains in the back. Arthur had a touch of liver. My pupils were unpunctual and stupid. I was depressed and cross. I began to hate our dingy flat, the shabby, staring house-front opposite my window, the damp street, the stuffy, noisy restaurant where we ate an economical supper, the burnt meat, the eternal sauerkraut, the soup.
“My God!” I exclaimed one evening to Arthur, “what wouldn’t I give to get out of this hole of a town for a day or two!”
Arthur, who had been picking his teeth in melancholy abstraction, looked at me thoughtfully. Rather to my surprise he seemed prepared to take a sympathetic interest in my grumbling.
“I must say, William,. I’d noticed myself that you weren’t in your accustomed sprightly vein. You’re looking distinctly pale, you know.”
“Am I?”
“I fear you’ve been overworking yourself lately. You don’t get out of doors enough. A young man like you needs exercise and fresh air.”
I smiled, amused and slightly mystified.
“You know, Arthur, you’re getting quite the bedside manner.”
“My dear boy”he pretended to be mildly hurt“I’m
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sorry that you mock my genuine concern for your health. After all, I’m old enough to be your father. I think I may be excused for sometimes feeling myself in loco parentis.”
“I beg your pardon, Daddy.”
Arthur smiled, but with a certain exasperation. I wasn’t giving the right answers. He couldn’t find an opening for the topic, whatever it was, which he was thus obscurely trying to broach. After a moment’s hesitation, he tried again.
“Tell me, William, have you ever, in the course of your travels, visited Switzerland?”
“For my sins. I once spent three months trying to learn French at a pension in Geneva.”
“Ah yes, I believe you told me.” Arthur coughed uneasily. “But I was thinking more of the winter sports.”
“No. I’ve been spared those.”
Arthur appeared positively shocked.
“Really, my dear boy, if you don’t mind my saying so, I think you carry your disdain of athleticism too far, I do indeed. Far be it from me to disparage the things of the mind. But, remember, you’re still young. I hate to see you depriving yourself of pleasures which you won’t, in any case, be able to indulge in later. Be quite frank; isn’t it all rather a pose?”
I grinned.
“May I ask, with all due respect, what branch of sport you indulged in yourself at the age of twenty-eight?”
“Welleras you know, I have always suffered from delicate health. Our cases are not at all the same. Nevertheless, I may tell you that, during one of my visits to Scotland, I became quite an ardent fisherman. In fact, I frequently succeeded in catching those small fish with pretty red and brown markings. Their name escapes me for the moment.”
I laughed and lit a cigarette.
“And now, Arthur, having given such an admirable performance as the fond parent, suppose you tell me what you’re driving at?”
He sighed, with resignation, with exasperation; partly, perhaps, with relief. He was excused from further sham—
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ming. When he spoke again, it was with a complete change of tone.
“After all, William, I don’t know why I should beat about the bush. We’ve known each other long enough now. How long is it, by the way, since we first met?”