Night Games: And Other Stories and Novellas (5 page)

"Eyelash-batting doesn't change anything," answered Flegmann
coolly, his lids half closed. Regiment Doctor Tugut, division chief of the
military hospital in Baden, put down a bank of two hundred gulden.

This is not for me today! thought Willi, and pulled his armchair still
farther back.

The actor Elrief, a young man of good family, more famous for his
stinginess than for his talent, allowed Willi to see his cards. He bet small
sums and shook his head in bewilderment when he lost. Tugut soon doubled his capital. The theatre manager Weiss borrowed some money from
Elrief, and Dr. Flegmann took still more money out of his wallet. Tugut
was on the point of withdrawing when the consul, without counting,
cried, "The whole bank!" He lost, and with a quick reach into his wallet
he made good his debt, which amounted to three hundred gulden. "Once
more the whole bank!" he said. The regiment doctor declined. Dr. Flegmann took over as banker and dealt the cards. Willi declined to take one,
and only for fun, at Elrief's continued urging, he placed a gulden on Elrief's card "to bring him luck"-and won. In the next round Dr. Flegmann tossed Willi a card which he didn't refuse. He won again, lost,
won, pulled his chair up to the table between the others, who willingly
made room for him, and won-lost-won-lost, as if fate could not
quite decide what she had in store for him today. The theatre manager had to return to the theatre and forgot to give Elrief back the money he
had borrowed from him, even though he had already won far more. Willi
was a little ahead but was still nine hundred and fifty gulden short of the
thousand he needed.

"Nothing's happening!" Greising declared, dissatisfied. The consul
became the banker again, and at that moment everyone knew that the
game was finally about to get serious.

Hardly anything more was known about Consul Schnabel other
than that he was a consul, the ambassador of a small free state in South
America, and a "wholesale merchant." It had been Weiss who had introduced him into the officers' circle, and the theatre manager's relationship
with him came about because the consul had known how to interest him
in hiring a minor actress, who, immediately upon her appearance in a
small part, had entered into a more intimate relationship with Herr Elrief.
The company would have enjoyed engaging in the good old custom of
making fun of the deceived lover, but ever since he had casually asked
Elrief, while dealing cards and without looking up, a cigar between his
teeth, "Well, how's our little mutual lady friend?" it was clear that the
consul could not be gotten the better of with jokes and taunts. This impression was substantiated by a remark he once made to Greising, who
late one evening, after two glasses of cognac, had allowed himself an offensive remark about consuls of unknown countries. With a piercing look
he had said, "Why are you taunting me, Herr Lieutenant? Have you already inquired as to whether I am of sufficient rank to give you satisfaction in a duel?"

A long, contemplative silence had followed this speech, but, as if by
tacit agreement, no further consequences were drawn from this statement, and it was decided, without any explicit discussion, but unanimously, that the consul should be treated more gingerly.

The consul lost. No one objected when, against his usual custom, he
immediately put down a new bank, and, after losing that one as well, still
another. The other players won, especially Willi. He put his original capital, the one hundred and twenty gulden, back into his pocket-nothing
would induce him to risk those again. Then he put down a bank himself.
Soon he had doubled it. He withdrew, and with a few minor exceptions, his luck held out against the other bankers, who changed in quick succession. Soon he had already exceeded by a few hundred the thousand
gulden he had set out to win-for someone else-and since Elrief now
rose to go back to the theatre to rehearse a role-about which he would
say nothing despite Greising's ironically expressed interest-Willi used
the opportunity to leave with him. The others were soon deep in their
game again, and when Willi turned around to look at them once more at
the door, he saw that only the consul's eyes had left the cards to follow
him with a quick, cold glance.

IV

Only now, as he once more stood outdoors with the soft evening air caressing his brow, did Willi fully realize the extent of his good luck, or
rather, as he immediately corrected himself, of Bogner's good luck. Still,
there was enough left over for him to buy himself a new cape, a new cap,
and a new sword belt, just as he had dreamed. And even after that, there
was still enough for a few suppers in some pleasant company, which he
could easily attract now. Aside from all that-how satisfying to be able
to give his old comrade the sum that would save him, tomorrow morning
at half past seven in front of Alser Church!-he actually had a thousand
gulden; yes, the celebrated thousand-gulden bill which he had only read
about in books was in his wallet along with a few hundred-gulden bills.
Well, my dear Bogner, here you are. A thousand gulden exactly. I've won
them. To be more precise, I've won one thousand and one hundred and
twenty-five. Then I stopped. Self-control, right? And I hope, my dear
Bogner, from now on you'll also ... No, no, he couldn't permit himself
to preach a moral lesson to his former comrade. Bogner would get the
point on his own, and one hoped he would be tactful enough not to feel
that this windfall entitled him to enter into a closer relationship with
Willi. Maybe it would be better after all, and more correct even, to send
his orderly to Alser Church with the money.

On his way to the Kessners, Willi wondered whether they would
ask him to stay for the evening meal as well. Well, fortunately the meal
itself was no longer important to him! After all, he himself was now rich enough to invite the whole company to dinner! Too bad there was no
place to buy flowers. But as he passed an open pastry shop, he decided to
buy a box of chocolates; then, turning back again as he reached the door,
he bought another, even larger one, and pondered how properly to divide
them between mother and daughter.

When he entered the front garden of the Kessners' estate, a housemaid met him with the information that the Kessners had driven to the
Helene Valley with everyone, probably to the Krainer Lodge. The Kessners would no doubt also have dinner out, as was their custom on Sunday
evenings.

A mild disappointment painted itself on Willi's face, and the housemaid smiled at the two boxes that the lieutenant held in his hand. What
should he do with these? "Please give my respects and-here"-he
handed the housemaid the two packages-"the larger one is for the lady
of the house, and the other one is for the Fraulein. And give them my regrets."

"Perhaps if the lieutenant were to take a carriage-they're probably
still at the Krainer Lodge."

Willi looked at his watch ponderously and a little self-importantly.

"Well, I'll see," he remarked carelessly, gave a humorously exaggerated salute, and left.

He was now alone on the evening street. A small, merry band of
tourists, ladies and gentlemen with dirty shoes, passed by. In front of a
villa an elderly gentleman sat in a wicker chair reading the paper. A little
farther up the street an elderly lady sat crocheting on a second-story balcony while speaking with a woman who was leaning out the open window of the house opposite, her arms crossed over the windowsill. It
seemed to Willi as though these people were the only ones in the whole
town who had not gone somewhere at this hour. The Kessners might
have left word for him with the housemaid! Well, he had no intention of
forcing himself on them. He really didn't need to do that. But what to do?
Return to Vienna right away? That would perhaps be best. How would it
be just to leave the decision to fate?

Two carriages stood in front of the casino. "How much to go to the
Helene Valley?" One driver was already engaged, and the other de manded a really outrageous price. So Willi decided instead in favor of an
evening walk in the park.

The park was still crowded at this hour. There were married couples
and pairs of lovers, whom Willi thought he could distinguish with certainty. Many young girls and women walking alone or in twos or in
threes lightheartedly passed him by, and he returned many a smiling,
even encouraging, glance. But one could never be sure that a father,
brother, or fiance was not walking behind, and as an officer it was his
duty to be doubly, even triply, careful. For a while he followed a darkhaired, slim woman who was leading a boy by the hand. She went up the
stairs to the terrace of the casino, seemed to be looking for someone, at
first unsuccessfully, until someone beckoned to her enthusiastically from
a distant table, whereupon, giving Willi a quick, taunting look, she took
her place in the middle of a large company. Willi then also pretended to
be looking for someone, and went from the terrace into the restaurant,
which was almost empty, and from there reached an entrance hall and
then a reading room, already lit, where a retired general in uniform, the
only guest, sat at a long, green table. Willi saluted and clicked his heels,
the general nodded back crustily, and Willi hurried out again. Outside in
front of the casino one of the carriages was still there, and the driver,
unasked, now declared himself ready to take the lieutenant cheaply to the
Helene Valley.

"Thanks, but it's too late now," Willi replied, and rapidly started
back to the Cafe Schopf.

V

The players were still there, in exactly the same positions as before, as if
not one minute had passed since Willi's departure. A light gleamed dimly
from under a green shade. Willi believed he saw a taunting smile play
around the mouth of the consul, who was the first to notice his arrival.
No one expressed the slightest surprise when Willi again pulled his chair,
which had remained empty, up to the table between the others. Dr. Flegmann, who was the banker at the moment, dealt him a card as though it were tacitly understood that he should do so. In his hurry, Willi bet a
larger bill than he had intended. He won, and then proceeded more carefully. But his luck had changed, and soon there came a moment when his
thousand-gulden bill seemed to be in grave danger. Well, what do I care?
thought Willi, I wouldn't have had anything from it anyhow! But then he
won again, and he didn't even find it necessary to change the thousandgulden bill. His luck held, and around nine o'clock, when the game
ended, Willi found himself in possession of over two thousand gulden. A
thousand for Bogner, a thousand for me, he thought. I'll reserve half of it
as a gambling purse for next Sunday. But he didn't feel as exultant as he
ought to have under the circumstances.

The entire company adjourned to the Stadt Wien for dinner, sat in
the garden beneath a shady oak, and spoke about gambling in general
and in particular about famous card games played for high stakes at the
Jockey Club. "It is, and always will be, a vice," Dr. Flegmann declared in
all seriousness. Everyone laughed, but First Lieutenant Wimmer diverted
himself by taking offense at the remark. What was perhaps a vice among
lawyers, he said, was far from being one among officers. Dr. Flegmann
explained politely that it was possible to have a vice and still be a man of
honor, as countless examples showed: Don Juan, for example, or the Duc
de Richelieu. The consul expressed the opinion that gambling was a vice
only when someone couldn't pay his gambling debts. And in that case, he
added, it was really not merely a vice but a fraud, and a fraud of a particularly cowardly kind at that. There was a moment of silence at this. But
fortunately Herr Elrief appeared at this moment with a flower in his buttonhole and victory in his eyes. "You tore yourself away from the ovations?" asked Greising. "I don't appear in the fourth act," answered the
actor, and carelessly drew off his glove as though rehearsing for an upcoming role as a viscount or marquis. Greising lit a cigar.

"Better if you didn't smoke!" said Dr. Tugut.

"But my dear doctor! There's nothing wrong with my throat any
more," answered Greising.

The consul had ordered a few bottles of Hungarian wine. The company toasted one another. Willi looked at his watch. "Oh, I'm so sorry, but I have to go. The last train leaves at 1o:4o." "Finish your wine," said
the consul. "I'll have my carriage bring you to the station." "Oh. Consul,
thank you, sir, but I can't...."

"Yes, you can," interrupted First Lieutenant Wimmer.

"Well, what's going on?" Dr. Tugut asked. "Are we going to continue playing tonight?"

No one had doubted that the session would be continued after dinner. The same thing happened every Sunday. "But not for long," the consul said.

"Lucky devils!" thought Willi, and envied them all the prospect of
sitting down at the card table once more to try their luck and possibly win
thousands. The actor Elrief, whose wine invariably went promptly to his
head, conveyed to the consul a greeting from their mutual lady friend
Fraulein Rihoscheck, with an inane and yet impudent expression on his
face. "Why didn't you bring the young lady with you, Mr. Mime?" asked
Greising. "She'll come later to the cafe to watch-if the consul permits,"
said Elrief. The consul did not react.

Willi finished his wine and stood up. "Till next Sunday!" said Wimmer. "We'll take a little of that weight off of you then!"

"In that," thought Willi, "you'll be disappointed. It's impossible to
lose if one is cautious."

"Would you be so kind, Lieutenant, as to send my coachman immediately back from the station to the cafe?" asked the consul. And turning
to the others, he added, "But, gentlemen, we can't play as late, that is,
until as early, as we did last time!"

Willi once more saluted all around and turned to go. Suddenly, to
his pleasant surprise, he saw that the Kessner family and the lady with
the two daughters were sitting at an adjacent table. Neither the ironical
lawyer nor the elegant young men who had driven up to the villa in a carriage were there. They greeted the lieutenant most amiably, and he remained standing at the table, gay and unaffected-a chic young officer in
comfortable circumstances, not to mention three glasses of strong Hungarian wine, at this moment without rivals. He was invited to sit down
but demurred gracefully with a vague gesture toward the entrance where
the carriage was waiting for him. Still, he couldn't refuse to answer a few questions: who was the handsome young man in civilian clothes?-Ah,
an actor!-Elrief?-No one had heard of him. The theatre here wasn't
much to speak of, maintained Frau Kessner; there was not much more
than operetta here. But with a promising glance she intimated that when
the lieutenant came the next time, they could perhaps go together to visit
the Arena Theatre.