Читать книгу: «Life in a German Crack Regiment», страница 4

If Hildegarde had received a blow on the forehead she could not have felt it more than these words. During the course of the evening she had completely forgotten her aunt's project with regard to Lieutenant Winkler, and now she was accused of trying to ensnare him, and this insulting insinuation was regarded by her aunt as the highest praise. An indignant answer half rose to her lips, but as usual she restrained herself. She had long ago given up trying to justify herself; her aunt would not have believed her, she would not indeed have understood it.

She was delighted when at last she could go to her own room, where she burst into a flood of passionate tears. She was conscious of having done nothing wrong, and yet she felt as if she would like to sink into the earth for shame.

CHAPTER IV
A Game of Cards

It was some weeks later. The fifth company came on guard at mid-day and George was on garrison duty. He was in an extremely bad temper, for he had just been obliged to give a piece of his mind to a sub-lieutenant, named Nissew, who was a great favourite of Captain von Warnow. The captain was most particular that there should be no swearing while on duty, and he required his subordinates to act as perfect gentlemen. George had long perceived that this was ridiculous; he himself detested blows, ill-treatment and brutality towards inferiors, but on the other hand he knew quite well that at the right moment a few strong words worked wonders. You couldn't manage otherwise in the army; the men indeed expected that now and again a sounding curse should descend on their heads. But the captain was so excessively polite that he indeed would like to have addressed his men as "Herr So-and-so!" The men of course laughed at their superior behind his back, and in George's opinion the company did not work nearly hard enough. The Poles and East Prussians in his former regiment had been far more active and well-drilled soldiers, it seemed to him, than these troops on parade, who were handled with silk gloves. The under officers naturally followed in their captain's footsteps, partly because they agreed with him, but largely from an instinct of self-preservation, for Herr von Warnow ruthlessly got rid of any subordinate who had once earned his anger by cursing or swearing. To George the most disagreeable of all the inferior officers was von Nissew, a one-year service man, who on account of his noble birth was regarded as an enfant gaté by the captain, and was later to be made a sergeant-major; he was a time-server of the worst kind, was always faultlessly dressed, and his outward appearance made a very good impression. George did not know how it was, but from the very first day he had taken a dislike to him; he distrusted his cunning grey eyes, and it was extremely unpleasant to him that just this particular officer should be placed in his company, to a certain extent to give him instructions, and to be able to say to him, "Captain von Warnow desires that such and such a thing should be done."

George did not like the way in which he treated his men. Nissew was always almost exaggeratedly polite to his inferiors, yet somehow in his words there sounded a secret threat. George had often noticed how the people trembled before his piercing, scrutinising glance. This very day he had been struck by something; the sub-lieutenant was giving instructions to a man who had on several occasions made a bad appearance on parade duty, apparently with the greatest politeness, but his glance had augured nothing good. When George had turned away he heard the officer whisper to the man, "Before you go on guard come to me. I want to say a word to you, and arouse your sense of honour." The soldier turned pale, and George had thereupon called the officer aside. He knew the meaning of that expression "arouse a feeling of honour," he knew that it was generally accompanied with blows and curses. He said as much to the sub-lieutenant, forbade him to summon the man, and exhorted him earnestly to do nothing that was not allowed. Nissew assumed an utterly astonished and injured expression. How could Lieutenant Winkler think such a thing about him? He had never done anything wrong. Captain von Warnow knew that perfectly well, and therefore he had given him permission, once for all, to call the men to account if they did not do their duty satisfactorily. The sub-lieutenant walked off with a highly-injured expression, and George knew that immediately the captain came he would be rebuked because he had dared to cast doubts on his subordinate.

And so it was. Captain von Warnow saw immediately that something was the matter with his favourite, and asked him what it was. Nissew knew perfectly well that he could only make a complaint of his lieutenant after twenty-four hours had elapsed, if he were not to render himself liable to punishment. So at first he hesitated, but at the direct command of his superior he related what had happened, but he related it in such a way that though it purported to be merely a description, it was really a complaint of the insult he had just received. Herr von Warnow listened silently, then he said: "I must speak to Lieutenant Winkler." He spoke severely to him. "It has often seemed to me, Lieutenant Winkler, that you are suspicious and distrustful of Sub-Lieutenant Nissew; I can assure you he is one of the best officers in my company. You have only known him for six months. I have known him for three years. He has never given me the slightest occasion to reprimand him, but his zeal and enthusiasm for his military duties will suffer if you are continually worrying him, and it must deeply wound him if you really think him capable of such shameful behaviour, as ill-treatment of the soldiers certainly is. I beg you to consider my words very seriously."

When, therefore, George returned to his own division it was extremely disagreeable to him to have to share duties with Nissew; he saw quite clearly the malicious glance that he now and again gave him on the sly, and yet he had to act as if he saw nothing. He had no desire to rebuke him a second time, and to be rebuked himself a second time; the relations between him and his captain had so far been tolerably pleasant. He did not want to destroy them intentionally. "Whatever does it matter to me?" he said to himself at last; "after all, it is not I who am responsible for the men but the captain, and if he thinks his lieutenant the epitome of perfection it is all right."

He therefore determined not to trouble himself any more about his subordinate, and after a few weeks he discovered that this was the most sensible thing to do. Captain von Warnow had inquired whether he left Nissew alone, and when the latter replied in the affirmative he became quite friendly with George again.

As far as his military duties were concerned, George got on very well; his men had been praised on inspection parade, his drill during the winter had been considered good, and the performance of his duties as an officer had been well spoken of. He was really an excellent officer; his appearance on parade, his personal bearing and his behaviour to his subordinates gave occasion for no adverse criticism; he was strict and honourable, and impartial in his treatment. Thus he soon won the respect of his men, and when one day his orderly fell ill, and the sergeant-major asked who would voluntarily act as Lieutenant Winkler's servant, almost the whole company offered. Even Captain von Warnow was pleased when he heard this, and his men's behaviour filled George with justifiable satisfaction; it was a delightful feeling to him to know that he had been able to win his men's affection to such an extent.

Officially things were going on well with George, but socially he was no better off than on the first day he had entered the regiment. He was obliged to confess himself that he had not advanced one step. It was certainly not his fault. He was not extravagant in his mode of life, he was modest in his behaviour, courteous towards his elders, and from a remark he had heard by chance he knew that his comrades thought highly of him for not being ostentatious with his money, and for "messing" just as they did.

George had made several attempts and had really exerted himself to try and get to know some of his comrades better, to discover their true character, and find out whether the distant and reserved air that they always wore was a mask, or corresponded to their real nature. In this particular respect he was specially interested in his colleague in the company, Baron von Masemann. Even in intercourse with his contemporaries he acted as if he were at court. An artificial restrained air reigned at meals, so George thought; they talked a good deal, of course, but there was no harmless fun, no unconstrained merriment. George was horribly bored. They only talked court gossip and told pointless stories which could only have interest for the others because they referred to the most aristocratic circles; and as George did not even know the names of most of the families mentioned, the conversation was absolutely uninteresting to him. Not a single serious subject was ever touched upon; George contented himself with the part of listener, and thus as he found little opportunity of joining in the conversation he did not get any more intimate with his comrades.

In the regiment the officers had gradually accepted the unalterable fact that George was to be one of them, but that was all. If they no longer shed tears because he was there, still they could not pretend they were pleased; they were quite polite to him, but they erected these social barriers which excluded all confidence and intimacy. Thus it came about that George had not a single friend in the regiment. All maintained a certain reserve towards him, more especially his contemporaries, though George had shown himself friendly in all his relations with them. Curiously, the most haughty among them all was the one who attracted him most. This was Lieutenant von Willberg, the one who had burst into tears when he heard of George's transference. He was possessed of an incredible pride, but he had his saner moments, as George called them, and then he was a lovable, happy, delightful creature; his adorable youthful light-heartedness showed itself, and then George quite understood how, in spite of everything, in spite of the warp in his nature, little Willberg was the darling and the pet of the regiment. George did not know how Willberg had felt about his coming into the regiment, and he had often wished to know him better, but so far the opportunity had not yet offered itself.

One day when George came into barracks he found a large company assembled there. Various guests had been invited, comrades from other regiments, mostly Cavalry officers. Of course the guests sat at the upper end of the table with the older officers of the "Golden Butterflies," and it was not without envy that those sitting at the lower end of the table regarded them. Even the Guards-Infantry were impressed by the Hussars and Uhlans, for the Cavalry officers were considered the most distinguished body in the army. Everybody saw how delighted the "Golden Butterflies" were to see their distinguished guests among them. They vied with each other in amiability, and even the elder chiefs and some of the younger staff officers, who were bachelors and daily dined together in the mess-room, made no concealment of the pleasure the visit gave and how honoured they felt. When they all rose from the table to take their coffee and cigars in the smoking-room, the guests were invited to take the large comfortable easy chairs, and the "Golden Butterflies" stood around them in a semi-circle. Each tried to gain the notice of the Cavalry officers and to be very attentive to them. To be invited to dine by the Cavalry Guard was a distinction for which all strove; for only when one had dined with them was one considered quite "tip-top"; the officers of the Guards accepted invitations from allied regiments, but they themselves were excessively careful in the choice of their guests. Little Willberg literally flung himself at their heads. He stood near Baron Gersbach, whose people came from his own district, and played the part of the darling of the regiment, and tried to engage his guests in an interesting conversation. Apparently this did not make the least impression upon the Uhlan, who stretched out his legs, and carelessly smoked one cigar after the other.

But little Willberg was most anxious to impress the Uhlan in some way or other, if not as a pleasant companion then as a clever, sharp-witted fellow, and so he said to him: "How would it be if we had a game of cards?"

They spoke quite openly in the barracks about card-playing. It is true it was forbidden, and indeed at regular intervals the most stringent orders against playing for money were publicly read out, and listened to with that respect which is proper for commands emanating from such high places, but further than this no one troubled about the prohibition. The military authorities knew all about it, but they shut their eyes, and indeed it sometimes happened that the colonels themselves played with their own officers. What could the military authorities do? In a little garrison town it was easy enough to see that an order was carried out, but in a large town it was utterly impossible. The officers would play, and if they were not allowed to play in the barracks or the mess-room, then they would gamble in some club or in another regiment or in their own homes. Whoever means to gamble will find an opportunity. Officially of course, it was said, officers are not allowed to gamble; but one must distinguish between gambling and gambling. If a fellow lost twenty marks it didn't matter to anybody, and if he lost a hundred, what did it matter? And if a man has the misfortune to lose a thousand marks surely he isn't more liable to punishment than if he had only staked twenty? If the military authorities intended to punish everybody who touched a pack of cards, then the number of officers in any one year would be reduced by half. The lieutenants who played would, of course, be punished, and the colonels in whose regiments gambling went on would run the risk of dismissal because they had not seen that the stringent regulations concerning gambling were carried out. Now, a man who is a colonel naturally wishes to become a general, and he is not likely to risk his military reputation by giving information which he can suppress if he likes.

Little Willberg repeated the question which the Uhlan at first thought it beneath his dignity to answer. At last he looked at him somewhat astonished: "You had better take care, you will lose your money; are you so very rich that you don't mind losing it?"

Willberg slapped his pockets cheekily: "They're quite full to-day, I've just had a remittance."

Willberg could not account for it, but suddenly he had an odd feeling. It had taken a long time to squeeze a thousand marks out of his old father to pay some of his most pressing debts. He had therefore the feeling that it was not quite right to risk any on a game of cards, but he would rather have died than confessed it now. Had he done so he would have for ever blamed himself and made himself supremely ridiculous in the sight of those beautiful patent-leather boots and silver spurs, which were the things that impressed him most in the Uhlan. However, he determined not to risk more than half of his cash; if he lost that, then the affair was over, if he won, then he would reconsider matters.

Baron Gersbach was known as a great gambler, and it was an open secret that it was only through gambling that he managed to keep his head above water. He had long ago spent his inheritance, and did not receive a penny beyond his pay, and yet his pockets were always full of bank-notes. Many people wondered why he was allowed to remain in the army. It was said that he enjoyed the protection of those high in authority. The story went that even his superior officers and men of the highest rank had played with him. Curiously enough he was an excellent officer, and an exceedingly good rider, who had often distinguished himself at the races. He might almost have been called a professional gambler, though he was known to gamble perfectly honourably and straightforwardly. He did not gamble every day, but only from time to time, when he was driven to make a great coup, but even then he only touched cards when an inward voice told him: "To-day you will win." If he was not quite sure about this, he could not be induced to join in a game of cards; thus, whenever he played he won, and people were really astonished that he could ever find anyone who was willing to lose his money to the baron. But, of course, each of them hoped that his case would prove the exception, and so again and again men were willing to risk their luck. All those who had not already played with him regarded it as a great distinction to be invited to do so, and indeed anybody who had not played with Baron Gersbach at least once, was considered not quite the thing.

They did not begin to play cards, to a certain extent from politeness, until the staff officers had left the room. One of the majors indeed found it extremely difficult to go, for he was an inveterate gambler and would gladly have stayed behind; everybody was quite aware of this. Still he really owed something to his position; he could not very well win money from his subalterns – at any rate not in barracks – that wouldn't do at all.

Scarcely had they left the room when all constraint was abandoned, and George observed his comrades with considerable astonishment. They had often played cards in his presence, but he had never seen them like this before; it was the first time that they had cast on one side their air of elaborate repose and faultlessly correct behaviour. It seemed as if an evil spirit had taken possession of them, a mad intoxication, the passion for gambling had seized upon them all, they were nervous and excited. They were all asking themselves whether they were going to win or lose, one saw it by the excitement in their eyes, their pale faces, the nervous twitching of their hands.

Only one man was absolutely calm, and that was the Uhlan. With his legs wide apart, he sat leaning back on the sofa, and did not trouble himself in the least degree about the preparations for the game. Whether he was inwardly as calm as he looked, who could say? Outwardly, at any rate, he did not betray the faintest excitement.

At last the card-table was all ready, and the adjutant of the regiment, Count Wettborn, turned to Baron Gersbach and said: "Well, what do you say, shall we have a game of cards?"

Much depended on the Uhlan's reply, for if he had said "No," the whole thing would have been quite different; they would just have had a harmless, pleasant little game. But to-day the Uhlan was in the right mood for playing – to-day on getting up he had felt cheerful and happy, and an inward voice had told him: "To-day you can again risk a large sum of money." In spite of this, however, the cautious creature had said to himself: "If my Leda gets over the hurdles to-day without breaking her neck, I will risk it," and his Leda had jumped over them three times like a darling. He had looked into his carefully-kept diary to see which regiments he had not visited for a long time; his choice fell on the "Golden Butterflies," and he was glad, for they would pay a couple of thousands for the honour of his visit without murmuring and grumbling. So he telephoned to the adjutant to ask if he might dine with them and bring a couple of his good friends with him. Count Wettborn was not a particularly intelligent person, but he quite understood the meaning of the message, and as he himself was a keen gambler, he was only too delighted to say yes.

With inimitable nonchalance the Uhlan got up from the sofa and sank down into a chair which his attentive friends placed for him. Then he dived into his pockets and brought out his pocket-book, and the others noticed with a certain amount of misgiving the roll of bank-notes that bulged out. They remembered the true principle of all gambling; you can only win at cards if you have a large amount of capital, and can hold out when the luck is against you. The Uhlan had the necessary capital, and who therefore could hope to win against him? Then the adjutant, Count Wettborn, put his pocket-book on the table, and the "Golden Butterflies" were extremely proud when they saw his purse; it was a little heirloom which he always carried about with him, for the count belonged to a very rich family, besides which, he was heir to an uncle who often gave him large sums of money.

"Really, our adjutant's a fine fellow," whispered one "Golden Butterfly" to another. "We really have a right to be proud of him: from the crown of his head to the soles of his feet he's tip-top. I believe even the Cavalry officers envy us him."

The other players dipped into their pockets; some who carried their money in bank-notes in pocket-books, more or less ostentatiously, whilst others who kept their possessions in a purse, furtively drew out a few gold coins – at the game of "Sieben" the stake began at twenty marks.

Little Willberg took out his £50 bank-note. Although he was heavily in debt he felt very proud of his possessions; and as he walked through the streets of the city he had held himself erect and lofty, thinking that everyone must see that he had a £50 bank-note with him. He had felt very rich then, but now in comparison with the sums that glittered forth from the others' purses, he seemed miserably poor; he was ashamed of his limited means, and was filled with envy and ill-will. It was a miserable and deplorable state of affairs always to be obliged to bother about money, and to have to say to oneself: "You mustn't do this and that," and to be perpetually forced to borrow. It would be glorious, even if only for once, to possess a purse full of money; above all, to be able to carry about bank-notes – that would be really too exquisite for anything. If one were stationed in an out-of-the-way little garrison, of course it wouldn't matter whether one had much or little money; but in Berlin, where one mixed with so many distinguished rich people, like those who were their guests to-day, then it was indeed a miserable thing to possess nothing but one wretched £50 note!

The game had gone on for a long time – the Uhlan kept the bank. "Well, Willberg, won't you stake something? you were so impatient to play a little while ago."

Willberg roused himself; he had been deep in thought; the gold that was clinking on all sides glimmered before him, he had only one wish, one thought to possess it all.

"Yes, yes, of course I will play. A hundred marks on the seven – no, two hundred." A second later and he had lost the money.

"Two hundred again." He lost that.

"Two hundred again." This time he had good luck, and fourteen hundred marks were counted out to him. Again the seven came to him, he had staked four hundred upon it, and so he won back nearly three thousand marks.

Little Willberg was astonished; he felt as if he had done a wonderful thing. Even the Uhlan cast upon him a glance of recognition, and when he had paid him his winnings, gave him a hearty "bravo." This praise made Willberg so proud that he immediately staked four hundred marks upon the seven, and lost it.

George had looked on at the game for a considerable time without taking any share in it, now he began to tire of it, and thought he would quietly retire. He went through the reading-room, when someone suddenly called him by name, and when he turned round he saw the first lieutenant, von Kirchberg, in an easy chair.

"Where are you going?" he asked him.

George felt he was caught, for it was not considered the correct thing to go off in this fashion, but he said nevertheless, "I meant to go home."

The other looked up astonished. "Have you come to the end of your tether? Have you lost all your money, then?"

"I never play, sir."

"What!" the other almost dropped his eyeglass in his astonishment, and looked at George for a long time speechless. "What!" he said once more, then he continued: "Come here and sit by me – you must tell me – how you manage to get along without playing cards, or rather how can you resist the temptation!"

"That's not a difficulty for me, sir, gambling has absolutely no attraction for me. A couple of years ago I was at Monte Carlo, and watched the gambling for hours together, but I never had the slightest desire to stake a penny."

"What, really!" Again the other looked at him as if such ideas were beyond his comprehension. "Really, I can't understand it. What then do you do with your money if you don't play cards?"

"What I don't spend during the month I put into the bank."

"Well, but what's the use of that – I mean what's the fun of it? Why don't you spend all your money? You're not a tradesman but a young lieutenant. Well, all I know is, that if I had your money I shouldn't put any in the bank."

"I say, Kirchberg, wherever have you hidden yourself?" said a comrade who just then came into the room. "We are still playing Half-part: the first lot of capital has gone to the devil. Have you got any money about you?"

"Is the Uhlan still winning?"

The other scratched his ears. "Yes, horribly."

Kirchberg lit another cigar. "Then we will first let him get to the end of his tether. Let him first win other people's ducats, and then we'll try to win them back again. Who is at the present moment in his toils?"

"Little Willberg. The fellow's had extraordinary luck to-day; he stakes each time on seven, which has been thrown down five times in succession. He's just revelling in gold, and the Uhlan naturally wants to win back the money."

"Is Willberg calm?"

"How could he possibly be? He's trembling with excitement in all his limbs."

"What a pity! for then all's up with him. However, I want to see the thing."

He got up and went back into the card-room, and almost involuntarily George followed him. He felt as if he wanted to help Willberg, to whisper in his ear, "Be prudent; stop in time; put your winnings in your pocket; you have plenty for the present."

But Willberg had not the least intention of stopping. For a start the luck had been against him, but now he won time after time. The other officers had long ceased to play and were watching these two. Willberg was excited and nervous, feverish and trembling. The Uhlan, on the contrary, was absolutely calm, immovable as brass; not an eye-lash quivered, and his hand did not tremble in the slightest degree when he pushed over the winnings to his antagonist. He had to count out huge sums of money. The amount that he had won as banker had long vanished; the bank-notes which he had brought from home had dwindled down to a tiny heap. Gold and paper money was heaped up in front of Willberg, probably to the amount of about twenty thousand marks.

The Uhlan counted out his money. "I can stake for the last time a thousand marks on the seven. If I lose and have to pay out seven thousand marks, I shall break the bank."

An indescribable excitement took possession of them all. Never before had they seen the Uhlan lose so much, and the "Golden Butterflies" were filled with pride that one of their officers should have caused this extraordinary state of things.

The last stake! The seven had so often brought Willberg good luck, surely it would stay with him to the end.

"A thousand marks on the seven."

The banker shuffled the cards. "Eight!" and he shovelled in the money.

"A thousand on the seven again."

The cards showed the six! For one moment the Uhlan's eyes glittered. Now he knew he had won the game. It could not last more than a quarter of an hour, for he had won back all he had lost. It really would have been inconceivable that he could have lost to-day, especially to a mere child like this, who gambled so imprudently and thoughtlessly that he must lose everything he had won. And Willberg went on losing; the heap of money shrunk more and more. Several times some of his comrades were on the point of saying, "Stop; save at least a couple of thousand marks." But that wouldn't do; it wouldn't be fair. As earlier they had allowed the Uhlan, who was their guest, to get to the point of losing everything, they could not now warn Willberg.

"Now, Herr Willberg, have you the courage to go on?"

He sat there, white as a corpse; every drop of blood had vanished from his face. He had lost all; his £50 note of which he had been so proud; not the smallest gold coin did he possess.

"Will you go on playing?" the Uhlan asked for the second time.

Willberg looked round. Perhaps one of his companions would lend him some money. But the adjutant stepped in: "No, that's enough for you to-day. Some of us others will now try our luck."

They went on playing, but Willberg went into an ante-room and sank down on a sofa. Suddenly he was overcome by a nervous reaction; he buried his face in his hands and burst into convulsive sobs.

George was standing not far from him, and looked at him sorrowfully and sympathetically. He could not in the least understand – he had not the faintest comprehension of how a man could become so infatuated with a game of cards; but in spite of this he was sorry for the poor fellow whose pecuniary difficulties were no secret. For one brief moment he had been rich; now he was poorer than ever, because he had experienced the feeling of possessing money, if only for the time being. It was on the tip of his tongue to go up to his comrade and offer him help; but he had not the courage to put himself forward in this way; he did not wish to risk a snub. And he was quite sure he had acted wisely when Willberg, having recovered his self-possession, got up to go home and went out as if he had not been aware of George's presence. Was he ashamed of his reckless gambling or his tears? He went off without bidding George adieu.