by Stefan Zweig
‘How right you are! A large estate is always a great nuisance. You never get a moment’s peace. Day after day you have to have rows with the bailiff and the staff and your neighbours, and then on the top of it all come the taxes and lawyers! Whenever people have an inkling that you’ve got even a little bit of property or money, they try to squeeze your last farthing out of you. You find you’re surrounded by enemies, however well-disposed you are to everyone. It’s no use, it’s no use — every man becomes a thief when he smells money. Yes, unfortunately, you’re right. You’ve got to rule over an estate like this with an iron hand, or you simply can’t make a success of it. You have to be born to it, and even then it’s one long, everlasting struggle.’
‘Ah, yes,’ she said with a sigh. He could tell that she was remembering something horrible. ‘People are terrible where money’s concerned. Terrible. I never knew that before.’
People? What did people matter to Kanitz? What did he care whether they were good or bad? He must rent the estate, and that as quickly and advantageously as possible. He listened and nodded politely, and while he listened and answered, another part of his brain was occupied in wondering how he could wangle the whole thing as rapidly as possible. Should he found a company to lease the whole Kekesfalva estate, the farms, the sugar-factory, the stud-farm? He would be perfectly prepared to sub-let it all to Petrovic and only keep the furniture and fittings. The main thing was to make an offer for the lease straight away and put the fear of God into her; she would take anything he offered her. She couldn’t reckon up, she had never earned money and did not deserve to make a great deal of money. While every nerve and fibre of his brain was at work, his lips went on chattering apparently unconcernedly.
‘The worst part of the whole thing is the litigation. It’s no use being pacific, you’re never done with quarrels and disputes. That’s what has always frightened me off buying any kind of property. One long round of law suits, lawyers, negotiations, writs and scandals. No, better to live unpretentiously, to have security and not have to worry. You think that when you’ve got an estate like this it’s something worth having, but in reality you’re at the mercy of everyone, you never get a moment’s peace. In itself it would be marvellous, this house, this lovely old property, marvellous ... but to run it you need nerves of steel and an iron fist, or it’s never anything but a burden to you.’
She listened to him with bowed head. All of a sudden she looked up; a deep sigh seemed to come from the bottom of her heart. ‘Yes, a terrible burden .. if only I could sell it!’
Dr Condor paused abruptly. ‘I must break off my story at this point, Herr Leutnant, in order to make clear to you what that one short sentence meant in the life of our friend Kanitz. I have already told you that Kekesfalva related this story to me during the saddest night of his life, the night on which his wife died, at one of those moments, therefore, which a man lives through perhaps only twice or three times in his life — one of those moments when even the most reserved man feels a need to bare his soul to another man as to God. I can still see him clearly before me: we were sitting downstairs in the waiting-room of the sanatorium; he had moved up close to me and he poured out his story in low, vehement, excited tones. I felt that he was talking and talking in order to forget that his wife was dying upstairs, that he was trying to deaden his senses with an interminable spate of words. But at this point in his narrative where Fräulein Dietzenhof said to him: ‘If only I could sell it!’ he stopped dead. Just think of it, Herr Leutnant — even fifteen or sixteen years later he was so strangely agitated by the memory of that moment when the unsuspecting spinster admitted to him so impulsively that all she wanted was to sell Kekesfalva quickly, quickly, as quickly as possible, that he turned quite pale. Twice, three times, he repeated the sentence to me and with exactly the same emphasis, “If only I could sell it!” For the Leopold Kanitz of those days had, with his quick powers of perception, immediately realized that the great business deal of his life was positively falling, as it were, into his hands, and that he had nothing to do but reach out and grasp it — that it was possible for him to purchase this wonderful property instead of merely renting it. And whilst he hid his stupefaction under a veil of idle chatter, the thoughts were racing through his brain. I must buy it, of course, he decided, buy it at once before Petrovic or the director from Budapest are hot on the scent. I mustn’t let her slip through my fingers. I must cut off her retreat. I shan’t go away until I am the owner of Kekesfalva. And with that mysterious capacity for keeping the mind working on two levels which comes to one at certain moments of high tension, he was on the one hand thinking of his own interests, and them only, while on the other he was talking to her with studied slowness against those interests.
‘Sell ... yes, of course, gnädiges Fräulein, you can always sell ... selling in itself is an easy matter ... but to sell advantageously, that’s an art. To sell advantageously, that’s the important thing. To find someone who’s honest, someone who knows the district, the land and the people ... someone who has connections with the place, not one of those lawyers — God forbid! — who try to involve you in useless litigation ... and then — very important in this particular case — you must sell for cash. You must discover someone who won’t give you bonds and promissory notes ... make certain of your money and get a proper price.’ (And while he spoke he was working out sums in his head. I can go up to four hundred thousand crowns, four hundred and fifty thousand at the most; after all, there are the pictures, which are worth a good fifty thousand, maybe a hundred thousand, the house, and the stud-farm. I shall have to find out, though, if the place is mortgaged, and get her to tell me whether she has already had an offer. And suddenly he took the plunge.
‘Have you, gnädiges Fräulein — forgive me for asking such an indiscreet question — have you a rough idea of the price? I mean, have you any kind of definite figure in mind?’
‘No,’ she answered helplessly, and gazed at him with troubled eyes.
Oh lord, that’s bad, thought Kanitz. As bad as can be! These people who don’t name a price are always the worst to do business with. They go running about to Pontius and to Pilate for advice, and everyone names a price and says his say and puts in his oar. If she’s given time to take advice, it’s all up. While this tumult was going on within him, however, he went on talking indefatigably.
‘But you’ve surely worked out a rough idea, gnädiges Fräulein ... you must know, after all, whether the estate is mortgaged, and to what extent?’
‘Mor ... mortgaged?’ she repeated. Kanitz immediately realized that this was the first time she had ever heard the word.
‘I mean, some kind of provisional valuation must have been made — if only for the purpose of assessing the estate duties. Did your lawyer — forgive me if I seem to be importunate, but I should like to advise you frankly — did your lawyer name no sort of figure?’
‘The lawyer?’ She seemed dimly to recall something. ‘Oh yes, yes ... wait a moment ... yes, the lawyer did write something to me. Something or other about a valuation. Yes, you’re right, it was in connection with the taxes, but ... but it was all drawn up in Hungarian, and I don’t know Hungarian. That’s right, I remember now, my lawyer told me to get it translated, and oh dear, in all the confusion it went right out of my head! All the papers must be over there in my case. I have a room over in the estate building, I can’t sleep in the room that used to be the Princess’s. But if you’ll really be so kind as to come across there with me, I’ll show you everything ... that is to say’ — she hesitated — ‘that is to say if I’m not troubling you too much with my affairs.’
Kanitz trembled with excitement. Everything was falling into his lap with a rapidity only encountered in dreams. She herself was going to show him all the documents, the valuation of the property, and that would give him the whip hand. He bowed humbly.
‘I assure you it is a pleasure to me to give you advice, gnädiges Fräulein. And I think I may claim without exaggeration
to have had some experience in these matters. The Princess’ — here he was deliberately lying — ‘always came to me for advice on financial matters; she knew that my only concern was to advise her for the best.’
They went across to the estate building. Yes, indeed, all the documents concerned with the lawsuit were there, stuffed anyhow into a briefcase; the whole of the correspondence with her lawyers, the tax forms, the copy of the final settlement. She nervously ran through the documents, and Kanitz, breathing heavily as he watched her, could feel his hands trembling. At last she unfolded a paper.
‘I think this must be the letter.’
Kanitz took the letter, to which was affixed a document in Hungarian. It was a brief note from the Viennese lawyer! ‘My Hungarian colleague informs me that, through the good offices of certain influential friends, he has succeeded in getting the estate assessed at a quite exceptionally low figure for the purpose of death duties. In my opinion the enclosed assessment corresponds only to about a third, and in the case of certain objects, indeed, only a quarter, of the real value.’ Kanitz seized the document with trembling hands. Only one thing in it interested him — the Kekesfalva estate. It was assessed at one hundred and ninety thousand crowns.
Kanitz turned pale. It was exactly what he had himself calculated, exactly three times the amount of this artificially low figure, that is to say, six to seven hundred thousand crowns, and the lawyer, moreover, had known nothing whatever of the Chinese vases. How much should he offer her now? The figures danced and swam before his eyes.
But the voice at his side was asking in anxious tones: ‘Is it the right document? Can you understand it?’
‘Of course,’ said Kanitz with a start. ‘Yes, oh yes! ... Well then, the lawyer informs you that the value of Kekesfalva is a hundred and ninety thousand crowns. That is, of course, only the estimated value.’
‘The estimated value? Excuse me ... but what does that mean?’
Now was the time to clinch matters, now or never. Kanitz tried to suppress his laboured breathing. ‘The estimated value ... yes, the estimated value, there’s always some uncertainty about it, it’s ... always a very doubtful matter ... for ... the official valuation never quite corresponds to the real value for selling purposes. One can never rely — that is definitely rely — on getting the whole amount at which an estate is assessed. In some cases, of course, one can get it, in some cases even more ... but only in certain circumstances ... it’s always a bit of a gamble, as in the case of an auction ... The estimated value is, after all, no more than a figure to go upon, a very vague figure, of course. One can assume, for example’ — Kanitz trembled; not too little now and not too much! — ‘if an estate like this, for example, is officially assessed at a hundred and ninety thousand crowns ... one may assume that ... that ... in the event of a sale one could at any rate get a hundred and fifty thousand. One could count on that at any rate.’
‘How much did you say?’
Kanitz could feel the blood suddenly roaring and throbbing in his ears. She had turned to him with astonishing vehemence and asked the question as though only just able to control her indignation. Had she seen through his lying game? Ought he not, perhaps, to raise the sum quickly by another fifty thousand crowns? But an inner voice urged him: Try it on! And he staked all on one card. Although his pulses were drumming at his temples, he said, with a show of diffidence:
‘Yes, I should expect that at any rate. A hundred and fifty thousand crowns, I should think one could quite certainly get that for it.’
But at that moment his heart almost stood still, and the pulses that had been thundering seemed to stop dead. For the poor unsuspecting creature at his side exclaimed in tones of genuine amazement:
‘ ... As much as that? Do you really think ... as much as that?’
And it was some time before Kanitz recovered his self-possession. He had to struggle to control his breathing before he could reply in tones of sober conviction: ‘Yes, gnädiges Fräulein, I can almost stake my word on that. You ought at any rate to get as much as that.’
Once again Dr Condor broke off. At first I thought he was only pausing to light a cigar. But I noticed that he had all of a sudden grown restless. He took off his pince-nez, put them on again, smoothed back his scanty hair as though it were in his way, and looked at me; it was a long, uneasy, quizzical look. Then he leaned back abruptly in his chair.
‘It may be that I have already told you too much, Herr Leutnant, at any rate more than I originally intended. But I trust you will not misunderstand me. If I have told you quite frankly of the trick by which Kekesfalva outwitted the poor unsuspecting creature, it is not, I assure you, because I want to prejudice you against him. The poor old man with whom we dined tonight, sick in mind and body, as we saw him, the man who has entrusted me with the care of his child and who would give the last farthing of his fortune to see the poor thing cured, that man is no longer, has long since ceased to be, the individual guilty of that shady transaction, and I should be the last to accuse him today. It is precisely at this moment, when in his despair he really needs help, that it seems to me important that you should learn the truth from me instead of hearing all sorts of malicious gossip from others. I beg you, therefore, to bear one thing clearly in mind — Kekesfalva (or rather Kanitz as he then was) did not go to Kekesfalva that day with the intention of getting this woman, so unversed in the ways of the world, to sell the estate to him for a song. He had only meant to pick up one of his little bargains in passing, and no more. This tremendous opportunity that came his way positively took him by surprise, and he would not have been the man he was had he not utilized it to the full. But you will see that subsequently the tables were to some extent turned.
I don’t want to spin out my story more than necessary, and I’ll skip some of the details. I will merely tell you that the hours that followed were the most tense, the most agitated, of his whole life. Just picture the situation to yourself: here you have a man who has hitherto been merely an insignificant little agent, an obscure dealer, and suddenly an opportunity to become immensely rich comes whirling his way like a meteor out of the sky. Within the space of twenty-four hours he would be able to earn more than he had earned hitherto in twenty-four years of the most exacting toil, the most wretched huckstering, and — tremendous temptation! — there was no need for him even to run after this victim, to captivate her, to bemuse her; on the contrary, his victim was walking of her own free will into his toils, she was positively licking the hand that held the knife. The only danger lay in the fact that someone else might intervene. Hence he dared not let the heiress slip from his grasp for a single instant, dared not give her time to think. He would have to get her away from Kekesfalva before Petrovic returned, and while taking these precautionary measures he must not for one instant betray the fact that he himself was interested in the sale of the estate.
It was Napoleonic in its audacity, its perilousness, this plan to take the besieged fortress of Kekesfalva by storm before the relieving army approached. But chance is a willing accomplice of the man who is ready to venture all. A fact of which Kanitz himself was quite unaware had smoothed the path for him, and this was the extremely cruel and yet natural fact that the poor heiress had already been subjected to so many humiliations and encountered so much hatred in this Schloss which was now hers that she herself cherished one wish alone — to get away from it, away from it as quickly as possible. No envy is more mean than that of small-minded beings when they see a neighbour lifted, as though borne aloft by angels, out of the dull drudgery of their common existence; petty spirits are more ready to forgive a prince the most fabulous wealth rather than a fellow-sufferer beneath the same yoke the smallest degree of freedom. The staff of Kekesfalva had been unable to suppress their fury at the fact that this North German woman of all people, who, as they clearly remembered, had often had comb and brush thrown at her head when she was doing the irascible old Princess’s hair, should now suddenly have become the owner of Kekesf
alva and thus their mistress. On the news of the heiress’s arrival Petrovic had taken the first train out of the place so as not to have to welcome her, and his wife, a common hussy who had formerly been a kitchen-maid at the Schloss, had greeted her with the words: ‘Well, I dare say you won’t want to stay with us — it won’t be grand enough for you.’ The house-boy had thrown down her suitcase outside the door with a loud crash, and she herself had had to drag it across the threshold, for Petrovic’s wife had not lifted a finger to help her. There was no meal ready for her, no one bothered about her, and that night she was obliged to listen to conversation carried on in fairly loud tones about a certain ‘legacy-hunter’ and ‘swindler’.
The poor, weak-spirited woman realized from this reception that she would never have a moment’s peace in this house. It was for that reason alone — and of this Kanitz was quite unaware — that she readily agreed to his proposal that she should accompany him that very day to Vienna, where, he said, he knew a man who would be sure to buy the estate. He seemed to her to be a messenger from heaven, this grave, courteous, well-informed man with the melancholy eyes. And so she asked no further questions, but gratefully handed over to him all the documents in the case, and listened with quietly intent blue eyes as he advised her with regard to the investment of the money she would get from the sale. She must only invest in something absolutely safe, in Government bonds. She must not entrust even a crumb of her fortune to a private individual; she must put everything in the bank, and a notary public must take over the administration of it. There was no point whatever in calling in her lawyer at this stage, for what was the business of a lawyer but to make simple things complicated? Yes, yes, he kept on interposing indefatigably, it was possible that she might obtain a higher price in three or four years’ time. But think what expenses there would be in the meantime and what a lot of bother with the court and officials! And realizing from the look of alarm that once more came into her eyes what a horror this pacific creature had of courts and business matters, he went through the whole gamut of his arguments again and again, always ending on the same note: quickly, quickly! At four o’clock that afternoon, complete agreement established, they caught the Vienna express before Petrovic returned. The whole thing had been so tempestuous that Fräulein Dietzenhof had not even had an opportunity of asking this strange gentleman, whom she was entrusting with the sale of her entire inheritance, his name.