"Well, you must have a civil authority you can trust. I thought perhaps that Mayor Orden might step down now and--well, if I were to take over his office, it and the military would work very nicely together."
Lanser's eyes seemed to grow large and bright. He came close to Corell and he spoke sharply. "Have you mentioned this in your report?"
Corell said, "Well, yes, naturally--in my analysis."
Lanser interrupted. "Have you talked to any of the town people since we arrived--outside of the Mayor, that is?"
"Well, no. You see, they are still a bit startled. They didn't expect it." He chuckled. "No, sir, they certainly didn't expect it."
But Lanser pressed his point. "So you don't really know what's going on in their minds?"
"Why, they're startled," said Corell. "They're--well, they're almost dreaming."
"You don't know what they think of you?" Lanser asked.
"I have many friends here. I know everyone."
"Did anyone buy anything in your store this morning?"
"Well, of course, business is at a standstill," Corell answered. "No one's buying anything."
Lanser relaxed suddenly. He went to a chair and sat down and crossed his legs. He said quietly, "Yours is a difficult and brave branch of the service. It should be greatly rewarded."
"Thank you, sir."
"You will have their hatred in time," said the colonel.
"I can stand that, sir. They are the enemy."
Now Lanser hesitated a long moment before he spoke, and then he said softly, "You will not even have our respect."
Corell jumped to his feet excitedly. "This is contrary to the Leader's words!" he said. "The Leader has said that all branches are equally honorable."
Lanser went on very quietly, "I hope the Leader knows. I hope he can read the minds of soldiers." And then almost compassionately he said, "You should be greatly rewarded." For a moment he sat quietly and then he pulled himself together and said, "Now we must come to exactness. I am in charge here. My job is to get coal out. To do that I must maintain order and discipline, and to do that I must know what is in the minds of these people. I must anticipate revolt. Do you understand that?"
"Well, I can find out what you wish to know, sir. As Mayor here, I will be very effective," said Corell.
Lanser shook his head. "I have no orders about this. I must use my own judgment. I think you will never again know what is going on here. I think no one will speak to you; no one will be near to you except those people who will live on money, who can live on money. I think without a guard you will be in great danger. It will please me if you go back to the capital, there to be rewarded for your fine work."
"But my place is here, sir," said Corell. "I have made my place. It is all in my report."
Lanser went on as though he had not heard. "Mayor Orden is more than a mayor," he said. "He is his people. He knows what they are doing, thinking, without asking, because he will think what they think. By watching him I will know them. He must stay. That is my judgment."
Corell said, "My work, sir, merits better treatment than being sent away."
"Yes, it does," Lanser said slowly. "But to the larger work I think you are only a detriment now. If you are not hated yet, you will be. In any little revolt you will be the first to be killed. I think I will suggest that you go back."
Corell said stiffly, "You will, of course, permit me to wait for a reply to my report to the capital?"
"Yes, of course. But I shall recommend that you go back for your own safety. Frankly, Mr. Corell, you have no value here. But--well, there must be other plans and other countries. Perhaps you will go now to some new town in some new country. You will win new confidence in a new field. You may be given a larger town, even a city, a greater responsibility. I think I will recommend you highly for your work here."
Corell's eyes were shining with gratification. "Thank you, sir," he said. "I've worked hard. Perhaps you are right. But you must permit me to wait for the reply from the capital."
Lanser's voice was tight. His eyes were slitted. He said harshly, "Wear a helmet, keep indoors, do not go out at night, and, above all, do not drink. Trust no woman nor any man. Do you understand that?"
Corell looked pityingly at the colonel. "I don't think you understand. I have a little house. A pleasant country girl waits on me. I even think she's a little fond of me. These are simple, peaceful people. I know them."
Lanser said, "There are no peaceful people. When will you learn it? There are no friendly people. Can't you understand that? We have invaded this country--you, by what they call treachery, prepared for us." His face grew red and his voice rose. "Can't you understand that we are at war with these people?"
Corell said, a little smugly, "We have defeated them."
The colonel stood up and swung his arms helplessly, and Hunter looked up from his board and put his hand out to protect his board from being jiggled. Hunter said, "Careful now, sir. I'm inking in. I wouldn't want to do it all over again."
Lanser looked down at him and said, "Sorry," and went on as though he were instructing a class. He said, "Defeat is a momentary thing. A defeat doesn't last. We were defeated and now we attack. Defeat means nothing. Can't you understand that? Do you know what they are whispering behind doors?"
Corell asked, "Do you?"
"No, but I suspect."
Then Corell said insinuatingly, "Are you afraid, Colonel? Should the commander of this occupation be afraid?"
Lanser sat down heavily and said, "Maybe that's it." And he said disgustedly, "I'm tired of people who have not been at war who know all about it." He held his chin in his hand and said, "I remember a little old woman in Brussels--sweet face, white hair; she was only four feet eleven; delicate old hands. You could see the veins almost black against her skin. And her black shawl and her blue-white hair. She used to sing our national songs to us in a quivering, sweet voice. She always knew where to find a cigarette or a virgin." He dropped his hand from his chin, and he caught himself as though he had been asleep. "We didn't know her son had been executed," he said. "When we finally shot her, she had killed twelve men with a long, black hatpin. I have it yet at home. It has an enamel button with a bird over it, red and blue."
Corell said, "But you shot her?"
"Of course we shot her."
"And the murders stopped?" asked Corell.
"No, the murders did not stop. And when we finally retreated, the people cut off stragglers and they burned some and they gouged the eyes from some, and some they even crucified."
Corell said loudly, "These are not good things to say, Colonel."
"They are not good things to remember," said Lanser.
Corell said, "You should not be in command if you are afraid."
And Lanser answered softly, "I know how to fight, you see. If you know, at least you do not make silly errors."
"Do you talk this way to the young officers?"
Lanser shook his head. "No, they wouldn't believe me."
"Why do you tell me, then?"
"Because, Mr. Corell, your work is done. I remember one time--" and as he spoke there was a tumble of feet on the stairs and the door burst open. A sentry looked in and Captain Loft brushed past him. Loft was rigid and cold and military; he said, "There's trouble, sir."
"Trouble?"
"I have to report, sir, that Captain Bentick has been killed."
Lanser said, "Oh--yes--Bentick!"
There was the sound of a number of footsteps on the stairs and two stretcher-bearers came in, carrying a figure covered with blankets.
Lanser said, "Are you sure he's dead?"
"Quite sure," Loft said stiffly.
The lieutenants came in from the bedroom, their mouths a little open, and they looked frightened. Lanser said, "Put him down there," and he pointed to the wall beside the windows. When the bearers had gone, Lanser knelt and lifted a corner of the blanket and then quickly put it down again. And still kneeling, he looked at Loft and said
, "Who did this?"
"A miner," said Loft.
"Why?"
"I was there, sir."
"Well, make your report, then! Make your report, damn it, man!"
Loft drew himself up and said formally, "I had just relieved Captain Bentick, as the colonel ordered. Captain Bentick was about to leave to come here when I had some trouble about a recalcitrant miner who wanted to quit work. He shouted something about being a free man. When I ordered him to work, he rushed at me with his pick. Captain Bentick tried to interfere." He gestured slightly toward the body.
Lanser, still kneeling, nodded slowly. "Bentick was a curious man," he said. "He loved the English. He loved everything about them. I don't think he liked to fight very much. . . . You captured the man?"
"Yes, sir," Loft said.
Lanser stood up slowly and spoke as though to himself. "So it starts again. We will shoot this man and make twenty new enemies. It's the only thing we know, the only thing we know."
Prackle said, "What do you say, sir?"
Lanser answered, "Nothing, nothing at all. I was just thinking." He turned to Loft and said, "Please give my compliments to Mayor Orden and my request that he see me immediately. It is very important."
Major Hunter looked up, dried his inking-pen carefully, and put it away in a velvet-lined box.
3
In the town the people moved sullenly through the streets. Some of the light of astonishment was gone from their eyes, but still a light of anger had not taken its place. In the coal shaft the work ingmen pushed the coal cars sullenly. The small tradesmen stood behind their counters and served the people, but no one communicated with them. The people spoke to one another in monosyllables, and everyone was thinking of the war, thinking of himself, thinking of the past and how it had suddenly been changed.
In the drawing-room of the palace of Mayor Orden a small fire burned and the lights were on, for it was a gray day outside and there was frost in the air. The room was itself undergoing a change. The tapestry-covered chairs were pushed back, the little tables out of the way, and through the doorway to the right Joseph and Annie were struggling to bring in a large square dining-table. They had it on its side. Joseph was in the drawing-room and Annie's red face showed through the door. Joseph maneuvered the legs around sideways, and he cried, "Don't push, Annie! Now!"
"I am 'now-ing,' " said Annie the red-nosed, the red-eyed, the angry. Annie was always a little angry and these soldiers, this occupation, did not improve her temper. Indeed, what for years had been considered simply a bad disposition was suddenly become a patriotic emotion. Annie had gained some little reputation as an exponent of liberty by throwing hot water on the soldiers. She would have thrown it on anyone who cluttered up her porch, but it just happened that she had become a heroine; and since anger had been the beginning of her success, Annie went on to new successes by whipping herself into increased and constant anger.
"Don't scuff the bottom," Joseph said. The table wedged in the doorway. "Steady!" Joseph warned.
"I am steady," said Annie.
Joseph stood off and studied the table, and Annie crossed her arms and glared at him. He tested a leg. "Don't push," he said. "Don't push so hard." And by himself he got the table through while Annie followed with crossed arms. "Now, up she goes," said Joseph, and at last Annie helped him settle it on four legs and move it to the center of the room. "There," Annie said. "If His Excellency hadn't told me to, I wouldn't have done it. What right have they got moving tables around?"
"What right coming in at all?" said Joseph.
"None," said Annie.
"None," repeated Joseph. "I see it like they have no right at all, but they do it, with their guns and their parachutes; they do it, Annie."
"They got no right," said Annie. "What do they want with a table in here, anyway? This isn't a dining-room."
Joseph moved a chair up to the table and he set it carefully at the right distance from the table, and he adjusted it. "They're going to hold a trial," he said. "They're going to try Alexander Morden."
"Molly Morden's husband?"
"Molly Morden's husband."
"For bashing that fellow with a pick?"
"That's right," said Joseph.
"But he's a nice man," Annie said. "They've got no right to try him. He gave Molly a big red dress for her birthday. What right have they got to try Alex?"
"Well," Joseph explained, "he killed this fellow."
"Suppose he did; the fellow ordered Alex around. I heard about it. Alex doesn't like to be ordered. Alex's been an alderman in his time, and his father, too. And Molly Morden makes a nice cake," Annie said charitably. "But her frosting gets too hard. What'll they do with Alex?"
"Shoot him," Joseph said gloomily.
"They can't do that."
"Bring up the chairs, Annie. Yes, they can. They'll just do it."
Annie shook a very rigid finger in his face. "You remember my words," she said angrily. "People aren't going to like it if they hurt Alex. People like Alex. Did he ever hurt anybody before? Answer me that!"
"No," said Joseph.
"Well, there, you see! If they hurt Alex, people are going to be mad and I'm going to be mad. I won't stand for it!"
"What will you do?" Joseph asked her.
"Why, I'll kill some of them myself," said Annie.
"And then they'll shoot you," said Joseph.
"Let them! I tell you, Joseph, things can go too far--tramping in and out all hours of the night, shooting people."
Joseph adjusted a chair at the head of the table, and he became in some curious way a conspirator. He said softly, "Annie."
She paused and, sensing his tone, walked nearer to him. He said, "Can you keep a secret?"
She looked at him with a little admiration, for he had never had a secret before. "Yes. What is it?"
"Well, William Deal and Walter Doggel got away last night."
"Got away? Where?"
"They got away to England, in a boat."
Annie sighed with pleasure and anticipation. "Does everybody know it?"
"Well, not everybody," said Joseph. "Everybody but--"and he pointed a quick thumb toward the ceiling.
"When did they go? Why didn't I hear about it?"
"You were busy." Joseph's voice and face were cold. "You know that Corell?"
"Yes."
Joseph came close to her. "I don't think he's going to live long."
"What do you mean?" Annie asked.
"Well, people are talking."
Annie sighed with tension. "Ah-h-h!!"
Joseph at last had opinions. "People are getting together," he said. "They don't like to be conquered. Things are going to happen. You keep your eyes peeled, Annie. There're going to be things for you to do."
Annie asked, "How about His Excellency? What's he going to do? How does His Excellency stand?"
"Nobody knows," said Joseph. "He doesn't say anything."
"He wouldn't be against us," Annie said.
"He doesn't say," said Joseph.
The knob turned on the left-hand door, and Mayor Orden came in slowly. He looked tired and old. Behind him Doctor Winter walked. Orden said, "That's good, Joseph. Thank you, Annie. It looks very well."
They went out and Joseph looked back through the door for a moment before he closed it.
Mayor Orden walked to the fire and turned to warm his back. Doctor Winter pulled out the chair at the head of the table and sat down. "I wonder how much longer I can hold this position?" Orden said. "The people don't quite trust me and neither does the enemy. I wonder whether this is a good thing."
"I don't know," said Winter. "You trust yourself, don't you? There's no doubt in your own mind?"
"Doubt? No. I am the Mayor. I don't understand many things." He pointed to the table. "I don't know why they have to hold this trial in here. They're going to try Alex Morden here for murder. You remember Alex? He has that pretty little wife, Molly."
"I remember," said Winter. "S
he used to teach in the grammar school. Yes, I remember. She's so pretty, she hated to get glasses when she needed them. Well, I guess Alex killed an officer, all right. Nobody's questioned that."
Mayor Orden said bitterly, "Nobody questions it. But why do they try him? Why don't they shoot him? This is not a matter of doubt or certainty, justice or injustice. There's none of that here. Why must they try him--and in my house?"
Winter said, "I would guess it is for the show. There's an idea about it: if you go through the form of a thing, you have it, and sometimes people are satisfied with the form of a thing. We had an army--soldiers with guns--but it wasn't an army, you see. The invaders will have a trial and hope to convince the people that there is justice involved. Alex did kill the captain, you know."
"Yes, I see that," Orden said.
And Winter went on, "If it comes from your house, where the people expect justice--"
He was interrupted by the opening of the door to the right. A young woman entered. She was about thirty and quite pretty. She carried her glasses in her hand. She was dressed simply and neatly and she was very excited. She said quickly, "Annie told me to come right in, sir."
"Why, of course," said the Mayor. "You're Molly Morden."
"Yes, sir; I am. They say that Alex is to be tried and shot."
Orden looked down at the floor for a moment, and Molly went on, "They say you will sentence him. It will be your words that send him out."
Orden looked up, startled. "What's this? Who says this?"
"The people in the town." She held herself very straight and she asked, half pleadingly, half demandingly, "You wouldn't do that, would you, sir?"
"How could the people know what I don't know?" he said.
"That is a great mystery," said Doctor Winter. "That is a mystery that has disturbed rulers all over the world--how the people know. It disturbs the invaders now, I am told, how news runs through censorships, how the truth of things fights free of control. It is a great mystery."
The girl looked up, for the room had suddenly darkened, and she seemed to be afraid. "It's a cloud," she said. "There's word snow is on the way, and it's early, too." Doctor Winter went to the window and squinted up at the sky, and he said, "Yes, it's a big cloud; maybe it will pass over."
Mayor Orden switched on a lamp that made only a little circle of light. He switched it off again and said, "A light in the daytime is a lonely thing."
The Short Novels of John Steinbeck Page 37