Schweik sweated. When he had beaten the carpets, she remembered that the curtains would have to be taken down and dusted. Then he received orders to clean the windows in the bedroom and kitchen. Thereupon she began to rearrange the furniture, which
* * *
made her very nervous, and when Schweik had dragged it from one corner to another, she was dissatisfied and started devising new groupings and arrangements. She turned everything upside down and slowly, as the cosy snuggery took shape, her supply of energy began to ebb, and the harrying gradually came to an end. When everything else was finished, she took clean bed linen from the cupboard, and as she arranged the fresh pillow cases and mattresses, it was clear that she did so with genuine devotion.
Then she sent Schweik for lunch and wine. And before he returned, she put on a filmy gown which made her extremely attractive and alluring. At lunch she drank a bottle of wine and smoked several Memphis cigarettes. And while Schweik was in the kitchen feasting on army bread which he soaked in a glass of brandy she retired to rest.
"Schweik," she shouted from the bedroom. "Schweik!"
Schweik opened the door and beheld the young lady in an enticing attitude among the cushions.
"Come here."
He stepped up to the bed, and with a peculiar smile she scrutinized his sturdy build. Then, pulling aside the thin covering which had hitherto concealed her person, she said sternly :
"Take off your boots and trousers. Let me -"
And so it came about that when the lieutenant returned from the barracks, the good soldier Schweik was able to inform him :
"Beg to report, sir, I carried out all the lady's wishes and treated her courteously, just as you instructed me."
"Thank you, Schweik," said the lieutenant. "And did she want many things done?"
"About six," replied Schweik. "And now she's sound asleep. I expect the journey tired her out. I did everything I saw she wanted, even though she didn't actually ask for it."
V.
While whole armies, clinging to the forests on the Dunajec and Raab, were standing in a downpour of shells and heavy artillery was cutting up and scattering company after company in the
* * *
Carpathians, and the horizon in all battle areas was aglow with the blazing of villages and towns, Lieutenant Lukash, together with Schweik, was having unpleasantly idyllic experiences with the lady who had run away from her husband and who had now made herself thoroughly at home.
When she had gone out for a walk, Lieutenant Lukash held a council of war with Schweik to discuss how he should get rid of her.
"The best thing, sir," said Schweik, "would be if her husband who she ran away from and who's looking for her, according to what you said was in that note I brought you, was to know where she is, so that he could come and fetch her. Send him a telegram telling him she's staying with you and that he can come and take her away. There was a similar sort of mix-up last year in a villa at Vsenory. But then it was the woman who sent the telegram to her husband, and he came to fetch her and gave the pair of them a good hiding. They was both civilians, but you being an officer, I don't suppose that's likely to happen here. Anyhow, you're not to blame, because you never invited anyone, and when she ran away she did it on her own account. You'll see, a telegram's a very useful wheeze. And if the worst comes to the worst, and there is a bit of a rumpus -"
"Oh, he's a very shrewd fellow," said Lieutenant Lukash. "I know him personally. He's a wholesale hop merchant. Yes, I must have a talk to him. I'll send a telegram."
The telegram which he sent was very brief and businesslike: "Your wife's present address is -" and the address of Lieutenant Lukash completed the message.
And so Madame Katy had a very unpleasant surprise when the hop merchant rushed in. He looked very gentlemanly and solicitous when Madame Katy, as cool as a cucumber, introduced the two of them:
"My husband—Lieutenant Lukash."
That was all she could think of.
"Please take a seat, Mr. Wendler," said Lieutenant Lukash affably, taking a cigarette case out of his pocket. "May I offer you a cigarette?"
The hop merchant, the very shrewd fellow, helped himself
* * *
courteously to a cigarette and, puffing smoke from his mouth, said solemnly:
"You'll be off to the front soon, I suppose?"
"I've applied for a transfer to the 91st regiment and I expect my applications be granted as soon as I've finished my job of training volunteer officers. We need a huge number of officers, and it's disheartening to see how many young men who are entitled to be volunteer officers don't come forward to claim their rights. They'd rather stay in the ranks than try and become cadets."
"The hop business has been badly hit by the war, but I suppose it won't last long," remarked the hop merchant, gazing by turns at his wife and the lieutenant.
"We're in a very strong position," said Lieutenant Lukash. "Nobody can doubt for a moment to-day that the war will end with the victory of the Central Powers. France, England, and Russia haven't enough strength to do anything against the hard fight that Austria, Turkey and Germany are putting up. Of course, we've had trifling reverses on a few fronts. But as soon as we break through the Russian front between the ridge of the Carpathians and the Dunajec there can be no doubt that the war will come to an end. In the same way the French are faced with the imminent loss of the whole of eastern France and the entry of the German army into Paris. That's absolutely certain. In addition to that, our manœuvres in Serbia are making very successful progress, and the withdrawal of our troops, as a matter of fact, is only a rearrangement of fighting forces, and the conclusions many people are apt to draw from it are not at all such as self-composure in war demands. Before very long we shall see that our carefully planned manœuvres in the southern battle area will bear fruit. Just look here -"
And Lieutenant Lukash took the hop merchant gently by the shoulder and leading him to a map of the battle area hanging on the wall, showed him, with a running commentary, the various pivotal centres :
"The Eastern Bezkyds form an excellent pivotal centre for us. In the Carpathian sectors, as you see, we have a strong support.
* * *
A strong blow on this line and we shan't stop till we get to Moscow. The war will be over before we think."
"And what about Turkey?" asked the hop merchant, wondering how he was to come to grips with the subject which had brought him there.
"The Turks are doing well," replied the lieutenant, leading him back to the table. "Hali Bey, the speaker of the Turkish parliament, and Ali Bey have come to Vienna. Field-Marshal Liman von Sanders has been appointed commander-in-chief of the Turkish army at the Dardanelles. Golz Pasha has proceeded from Constantinople to Berlin and our Emperor has conferred special distinctions upon Enver Pasha, Vice Admiral Usedom and General Djevad Pasha. Quite a lot of distinctions for so short a period of time."
They all sat looking at each other in silence, until the lieutenant thought he had better relieve the awkward situation by asking:
"When did you arrive, Mr. Wendler?"
"This morning."
"I'm very glad you discovered where I am and found me at home, because every afternoon I go to barracks and at night I'm on duty. As my quarters are practically empty all day, I was able to offer your wife my hospitality. While she's staying in Prague she can go in and out, just as she pleases, and nobody will be in her way. Our acquaintance is of such long standing that -"
The hop merchant coughed :
"Katy is a bit of a handful and I must thank you most heartily for everything you've done for her. She took it into her head at scarcely a moment's notice to go to Prague, because she said she must have her nerves seen to. I was away at the time and when I got back the house was empty. Katy had gone."
Endeavouring to look as matter-of-fact as he could, he wagged a threatening finger at her and with a forced smile he asked :
"I suppose you thought that because I was t
ravelling about, you could travel about, too. Of course, it didn't occur to you that -"
Lieutenant Lukash, seeing that the conversation was taking an awkward turn, again led the hop merchant to the map of the
* * *
battle area and pointing to the places which were underlined, he said:
"I forgot to draw your attention to one very interesting circumstance. I mean this large curve facing southwest, where this mountain range forms a large bridgehead. That is the point to which the Allied offensive is being directed. By cutting off this railway track which connects the bridgehead with the enemy's main line of defence, the communication between the right flank and the northern army on the Vistula must be interrupted. Do I make myself clear?"
The hop merchant replied that all was quite clear to him, and as, in his anxiety to be tactful, he was afraid of making any remark which might be regarded as offensive, he went back to his place and said :
"Our hop trade has lost some foreign markets through the war. France, England, Russia and the Balkans have been lost, as far as the hop trade is concerned. We're still sending hops to Italy, but I'm afraid that it won't be long before Italy butts in, too. But when we've won, we'll make them pay our prices for goods."
"Italy will preserve a strict neutrality," said the lieutenant, to reassure him. "That is -"
"Then why don't the Italians admit that they are bound by the Triple Alliance Treaty between Austria-Hungary and Germany?" burst forth the hop merchant, who suddenly lost his temper as he realized the full extent of his troubles : hops, wife, war. "I was expecting Italy to join in against France and Serbia. If they'd done that, the war would have been over by now. Now my hops are rotting in the warehouse, home orders are few and far between, the export trade has practically stopped, and Italy's remaining neutral. Why didn't Italy renew the Triple Alliance with us in 19-12? Where's the Italian Minister of Foreign Affairs, the Marquis de San Giuliano? What's he doing? Is he asleep, or what? Do you know what my annual turn-over was before the war and what it is now?"
"Don't you imagine I'm not keeping abreast of what's happening," he continued, gazing furiously at the lieutenant, who was placidly puffing smoke rings, each of which collided with
* * *
the preceding one and dispersed it. "Why did the Germans withdraw to the frontier, when they were so close to Paris? Why is such heavy artillery fighting going on between the Maas and the Mosel? Do you know that at Combres and Woewre near Marche they've burnt down three breweries which we used to supply with over 500 sacks of hops annually? And in the Vosges they've burnt down the brewery at Hartsmannsweiler, and the huge brewery at Niederaspach near Mulhausen has been completely destroyed? That means a loss of 1,200 sacks of hops for my firm annually. The Germans fought the Belgians six times for the brewery at Klosterhoek. There you have another 350 sacks of hops lost annually."
He now became speechless with indignation. Presently he stood up, walked across to his wife and said :
"Katy, you'll come home with me immediately. Get dressed."
"I'm so upset by all these goings-on," he then remarked apologetically. "I used to be as easy-going as could be."
And when she had gone to get dressed, he whispered to the lieutenant :
"This isn't the first time she's done this sort of thing. Last year she ran away with an usher in a school. I had to go right down to Zagreb before I found them. And when I got there, I got an order from the Municipal Brewery at Zagreb for 600 sacks of hops. Ah, yes, the south was a regular gold mine. Our hops went as far as Constantinople. Now we're half-ruined. If the government restricts the production of beer in the bargain, that'll be the last straw."
And lighting the cigarette which the lieutenant had offered him, he said in a stricken voice :
"The only big order came from Warsaw—2,370 sacks of hops. The biggest brewery there is the Augustinian. Their representative used to come and see me every year. Oh, it's something awful. It's a good thing I haven't got any children."
This logical inference from the annual visit to the representative of the Augustinian brewery in Warsaw caused the lieutenant to smile to himself. The hop merchant noticed this and accordingly continued his statement :
"The Hungarian breweries at Sopron and Great Kanizsa used
* * *
to take on an average 1,000 sacks of hops annually from my firm for their export beers that went as far as Alexandria. Now on account of the blockade they refuse to place a single order. I offer them hops thirty per cent cheaper, but they won't order a single sack. Stagnation, anxiety, ruin, and then on top of it all I get these household worries."
The hop merchant lapsed into silence, but this silence was interrupted by Madame Katy, now ready to go.
"What are we to do about my trunks?"
"They can be sent for, Katy," said the hop merchant contentedly, now cheering up at the thought that the episode had passed off without any annoying scenes. "If you want to do any shopping, it's high time we went. The train leaves at 2:20."
They both amicably took their leave of the lieutenant, and the hop merchant was so glad his ordeal was now over, that when they were saying good-bye in the passage, he remarked to the lieutenant :
"If you are wounded, though please God you won't be, you must come and stay with us when you are convalescent. We'll do all we can for you."
When he returned to the bedroom, where Madame Katy had dressed for the journey, the lieutenant found 400 crowns and the following letter in the wash-hand stand :
LIEUTENANT LUKAS II ,
You were not man enough to stand up for me against my fool of a husband and you let him drag me away as if I were a mere object he had left behind by mistake. And you had the cheek to say that you had offered me hospitality. I hope I have not run you into more than the enclosed 400 crowns, which kindly share with your orderly.
For a moment Lieutenant Lukash stood with the letter in his hand, and then he gradually tore it into pieces. With a smile he looked at the money on the wash-hand stand, and noticing that in her indignation she had left her comb on the table, he put it away among his collection of keepsakes.
Schweik came back in the afternoon. He had gone to find a fox terrier for the lieutenant.
"Schweik," said the lieutenant, "you're in lutk's way. The
* * *
lady who was staying with me has gone. Her husband took her away with him. And to show how pleased she is with all you did for her, she left 400 crowns on the wash-hand stand for you. You must write and thank her, or rather her husband, because it's his money she took with her when she left home. I'll dictate you a letter."
And he dictated :
"Dear Sir,
"Kindly express to your wife my hearty thanks for the 400 crowns with which she presented me for all I did for her during her stay in Prague. It was a great pleasure for me to do it and I therefore cannot accept this money and I am sending it -"
"Now then, go on writing, Schweik. What are you fidgeting like that for? Where did I leave off?"
" And I am sending it -' " said Schweik in the quavering
voice of tragedy.
"That's right,
"—I am sending it back and beg to remain, with best respects to your wife and yourself, Yours truly,
"Josef Schweik, "Orderly to Lieutenant Lukash."
"Got it all down?"
"Beg to report, sir, there's the date to go in yet."
" 'December 20th, 1914.' That's it, and now address the envelope and put these 400 crowns inside and take it to the post office. Here's the address."
And Lieutenant Lukash began to whistle blithely to himself a tune from The Lady Who Was Divorced.
"There's just one thing more, Schweik," said the lieutenant, when Schweik was leaving for the post office. "What about that dog you went to look for?"
"I've got my eye on one, sir, and a very fine animal it is, too. But it's going to be a hard job to get hold of him. All the same, I hope I'll manage to bring him along to
-morrow. He don't half bite."
* * *
Lieutenant Lukash did not hear the last few words, and yet they were very important. "The brute bites for all he's worth," was what Schweik was going to add, but then he thought: "What's it matter to him? He wants a dog, and he'll get one."
Now it is all very well to say : "Get me a dog," but the owners of dogs are very careful of their pets, even though they may not be thoroughbreds. The dog is a faithful animal, but only in schoolbooks or natural history primers. Let even the most faithful dog sniff at a fried sausage and he's done for. He'll forget his master, by whose side he was just trotting along. He'll turn round and follow you, his mouth watering, his tail wagging, his nostrils quivering with gusto in anticipation of the sausage.
In that quarter of Prague near the steps leading to the castle there is a small beer shop. One day two men were sitting there in the dim light at the back. One was a soldier and the other a civilian. They were sitting close together and whispering mysteriously. They looked like conspirators at the time of the Venetian Republic.
"Every day at eight o'clock," whispered the civilian, "the skivvy takes him along Havlicek Square on the way to the park. But he's a fair terror. Talk about bite ! There's no doing anything with him."
And bending down still closer to the soldier, he whispered into his ear :
"He don't even eat sausage."
"Not when it's fried?" asked the soldier.
"No, not even when it's fried."
They both spat.
"What does the brute eat, then?"
"Blowed if I know. Some of these dogs are as pampered and petted as a blessed archbishop."
The soldier and the civilian clinked glasses and the civilian went on whispering :
"There was a black Pomeranian once that I was after, and he wouldn't touch sausage either. I followed him about for three
The Good Soldier Svejk Page 18