Castle To Castle Part 9

"Oh yes, of course!"

He has more to tell me: "Persecuted since 1929!"

I don't let him into our room, he's fine right here on the landing . . . he talks and he keeps right on blessing . . . over and over . . .

"I am at the Fidelis Fidelis, Doctor! the nurses are splendid! . . . you know them! . . . I'm very comfortable at the Fidelis! Fidelis! Yes, but comfort isn't everything! Is it, Doctor?" Yes, but comfort isn't everything! Is it, Doctor?"

"Oh no, certainly not, Monsignor."

"I need a pa.s.s for our Synod in Fulda! . . . you've heard about it?"

"Oh yes, Monsignor!"

"There will be three of us . . . myself from France! . . . and two others bishops from Albania! . . . ah, we haven't seen the last of our troubles, Doctor!"

"I can imagine, Monsignor!"

"Neither have you, my son!"

He seizes my head, oh, very gently, he kisses me on the forehead . . . and then he blesses me . . .

"We are all of us persecuted, my son! . . . my children! . . ."

He addresses the whole crowd: "Remember, all of you! . . . the Albigenses! G.o.d's martyrs! down on your knees! . . . down on your knees!"

The women comply . . . the men remain standing . . .

"Ah, but I forgot, Doctor . . . Monsieur de Raumnitz's office?"

"Next floor, Monsignor!"

Whatever he was, one thing is sure . . . he prevented a ma.s.sacre! . . . those women were furies, I could see them tearing Clotilde limb from limb . . . and now all of a sudden they were looking at her tenderly . . . crossing themselves! countercrossing! weeping with emotion and sympathy! for Clotilde and Lili and the cop! . . . and for myself . . . we all hugged and kissed . . . communion! . . .

"Nun! Nun!"

Raumnitz's voice! that stopped everything! he leans over the bannister . . . he's fed up . . . this riot in the corridor! It had better stop.

"Aisha!"

Aisha and the mastiffs come down . . . that took the starch out of them . . . everybody moves aside . . . she motions to the men: they should pick up Papillon! and take him away! this way . . . she shakes her whip . . . back there . . . let's go! . . . they pick him up . . . chains and all . . . the whole bundle . . . heave ho! they take him away . . . The bishop looks on . . . still blessing . . . all of a sudden: "You're not a Catharist?" he takes advantage of the hubbub to ask me so n.o.body could hear . . . his name? he didn't tell me . . . I don't know . . . Monsignor what? . . . "No . . . no . . ." I bellow. "Not a Catharist!" so everybody can hear me! in spite of the racket! the whole landing! It was a reflex . . . self-defense! instantaneous! the reflex of self-defense! divine grace! animal instinct! I was too much detested by everybody, the b.u.t.t of too many calumnies! and now this one? this phony persecutedbishop calling me a Catharist!. . . Article 75 was enough . . . Catharist? Catharist? . . . no thank you! This character must be an extra-special provocateur! . . . fis.h.i.+ng! . . . he won't catch me! I shout some more! I want Raumnitz and Aisha to hear me! "Not a Catharist! Not a Catharist! . . ."

Self-defense!

You won't catch me in a sucker trap so quick! Catharist, Albigensian, Archbishop! Take me by surprise? . . . holy blazes, no! . . . luckily the people carry him away! the bishop-archbishop and his blessings . . . the whole mob on the landing and Aisha and the mastiffs! the Commissioner in his chains . . . and Clotilde in tears! . . . they all pour into the little corridor leading to the rear . . . but then an incident! . . . I'm just telling you what happened! Clotilde lets out a scream! she turns . . . Clotilde so frail and tearful! and rushes the brutes from Strasbourg! they send her back against the wall! . . . so violently that she practically flattens out! oh, but she bounces back! she attacks again! . . . the frail and weeping Clotilde! she grabs Papillon by the end of his chain and she won't let go! she freezes on to it! she grabs him by the head . . . she kisses him! kisses him! the crowd carried them away, drives them to the back . . . the door in back! . . .

Aisha's there already . . . she's waiting for them . . . she and her mastiffs . . . she's outside the door, Room 36 . . . I know, I know! . . . my phony doctor's there already . . . and his nurse . . . I think so anyway . . . and the patient, too . . . the one who was on my bed that he was just going to operate, the big garage man from Strasbourg . . . and a lot more that I never saw again . . . I think . . . I think . . . I'm not so sure . . . why not take the opportunity and give a look? . . . Room 36? . . . I've got my doubts . . . They must be pretty cramped . . . I had a chance to go in now . . . Papillon, Clotilde, the bishop . . . and all the pall-bearers and their women pour in! . . . Aisha lets them pour . . . I could let them push me in . . . Aisha stays by the door with her mastiffs . . . she looks at me to see if I'm going in . . . she'd let me . . . "oh, no, sister! no!" I'm pretty curious, but not that bad . . . h.e.l.l, I've fallen for enough shenanigans andsucker traps! . . . I'm through! fata.s.s Aisha! jiggly croup, snake charmer! . . . no soap! . . . get this through your stack! . . . I'm blazing mad! . . . hatred to the bone! . . . I'd impale you alive. See? you date-and-olive tart! I can see her at that door in 1900! . . . the snake charmer! . . . red crocodile boots and big sparklers! and the whip! Aisha, you b.i.t.c.h, I'd impale you! No, I won't go into Room 36! her Room 36!! drop everything and blow! I've got a few things to do! my duty! the patients waiting for me in Room 11 . . . yes, they come first . . . but then? the station? . . . the Castle? . . . first the station . . . more trains must have pulled in . . . down the Avenue again . . . from doorway to doorway . . . sidewalk to sidewalk . . . dangerous . . . not only the little bursts of machine-gun fire . . . also the talking machines that grab hold of you and won't let go . . . every time I leave the Lowen to see this one . . . or that one . . . it never fails . . . you run into some lunatic that stops you short . . . every doorway . . . every street corner . . . wants to know what you think . . . how things are going . . . and not some other time! right away! and frankly! the whole truth! a slap on the back . . . enough to throw your shoulder out of joint! a handshake that makes you reel and stagger! . . . "Ah, why, there's our dear doctor!" my, what a pleasant surprise! . . . what rejoicing! . . . ah, but watch your step . . . supercareful! . . . extra caution! this is the time for spontaneous, dynamic, optimistic answers! absolute conviction! the man who's asking you your opinion isn't any ordinary rank-and-file stool-pigeon! don't stutter! don't mince I give him the works! . . . "The Germans are winning, victory is in the bag . . . the New Europe is here to stay! . . . the secret army has destroyed everything in London . . . absolutely kaputt kaputt . . . Von Paulus is in Moscow but they won't announce it until the winter's over! . . . Rommel is in Cairo! . . . it will all be announced at the same time! . . . the Americans are suing for peace . . . we . . . you and I on the sidewalk . . . are practically home again! parading on the Champs-Elysees! . . . only a question of trains, transportation! . . . not enough trains! . . . matter of weeks! return trip via Rethondes and Saint-Denis!" . . . Von Paulus is in Moscow but they won't announce it until the winter's over! . . . Rommel is in Cairo! . . . it will all be announced at the same time! . . . the Americans are suing for peace . . . we . . . you and I on the sidewalk . . . are practically home again! parading on the Champs-Elysees! . . . only a question of trains, transportation! . . . not enough trains! . . . matter of weeks! return trip via Rethondes and Saint-Denis!"

The idea is to seem well informed! he scratches while he's talking to you . . . he's got the scabies! . . . oh, but don't talk to him about scabies . . . especially not scabies . . . only about the return through the Arch of Triumph! . . . our apotheosis! to revive the flame! . . . and de Gaulle in London and his clique and Roosevelt and Stalin, washed up! . . . tamed for ever! all of them, with rings in their noses! . . . and locked up in the zoo at Vincennes! once and for all! for life! especially don't show a quarter tenth of a doubt! Just say that "Rommel isn't so sure of taking the Ca.n.a.l . . . Suez is perfectly capable of holding out" . . . your goose is cooked . . . you'll never be seen again! . . . how many people have disappeared that way . . . just showing a little skepticism with those men in doorways? . . . Plenty! . . . and never seen again . . .

Naturally it was a good deal safer to stay home . . . but not so easy . . . not so easy . . .

Good Lord, how nice it would be to keep all this to myself! . . . never to say another word, never to write anything again, to be left completely alone . . . to go somewhere by the seash.o.r.e to die . . . not the Cote d'Azur . . . the real sea, the ocean . . . I'd never talk to anybody again, absolutely at peace, forgotten . . . but look here, Toto, how about the grub? . . . trumpets and ba.s.s drum! . . . get up on those ropes, you old clown! keep moving! . . . higher! . . . higher! . . . the public is waiting for you! and they only want one thing: for you to break your neck!

Achille sent word yesterday, what was the holdup? . . . lecherous old goo-goo eyes, he never wrote a book . . . his head never ached! . . . h.e.l.l no! Loukoum, his flunkey, came to see me, why was I so rude? . . . and so lazy? his dear, revered Achille had spent fabulous sums on publicity of every kind, c.o.c.ktail parties, busses with flags and streamers, striptease shows for the critics, enormous front page ads in the most hateful papers, the papers that were most venomously anti-me announcing the advent! that I'd finished my white elephant! and here I hadn't given them a thing! . . . ah, Loukoum raises his arm to high heaven! . . . I'm even stupider and lazier than last year! he wouldn't dare to tell Achille! . . . the poor old man . . . such a blow! . . . he simply wouldn't dare! . . . they're so considerate of each other! . . . even of Gertrut with his sky-blue monocle! . . . I'm the spoilsport, the cynical, foul-mouthed, malignant calamity clown . . .

Doesn't it mean anything to me that Achille has to go to Dax . . . and come back by way of Aix and Enghien? that he's not as young as he used to be! that he'll be a hundred in July . . . and doesn't want to leave until this business is settled. . . all my ma.n.u.scripts in his cellar! that he's already given up Marienbad on account of me! . . . and Evian! . . . that he's so lacerated by the sums he's put into this, invested in my glory! . . . he can hardly drag himself out to the Luxembourg . . . to the Champs-Elysees . . . that even the puppet show doesn't amuse him any more! . . . or the little train in the Bois . . . and I don't give a d.a.m.n! . . . no conscience! . . . my white elephant ought to be in, the dog pound!

"Loukoum! Loukoum! there's a taxi! Quick!"

He's surprised, but he gets up . . . he follows me . . . the garden . . . the sidewalk . . .

"Driver! driver! Take Monsieur to Lourdes! To Lourdes, driver! Quick! Quick!"

Ah, he came to shake me out of my apathy! I'll cure him! Lourdes or not! all three! all four of them can go to Lourdes! I wouldn't want them to be bored . . . I've got better things to do! I was telling you about Siegmaringen, the landing . . .

After Papillon and Clotilde and the Catharist bishop and the phony doctor and his victim and the ma.s.sacre at the station, it seemed reasonable to suppose that this was enough . . . for the time being . . . that we were ent.i.tled to a little peace and quiet . . . to a few less Strasbourgeois, that mob of troublemakers . . . all kinds! . . . lunatics, bigmouths, females, impersonators, phony thises and phony thats . . . Not at all . . . more and more kept coming . . . from the restaurant, from the street . . . from all over! they blocked the stairs, complete bottleneck . . . if you tried to buck the current, you'd be crushed, rolled thin! . . . because they were ripping mad in addition, they wanted everything and right away! to eat, to sleep, to drink, to p.i.s.s! . . . and they were all yelling! riproar-ing creeps! they wanted to p.i.s.s, drink and eat in our room! . . . I give it a try . . . "let me through!" "No! No! No! c.o.c.ksucker! stinker! . . . bloodthirsty b.a.s.t.a.r.d! . . . Come ahead! We're waiting!" That was the way they felt about me . . . my prestige! . . . It hasn't increased much since . . . my prestige! . . . but this was an emergency . . . I had to go to the Castle . . . never mind, I'd go later! and Raumnitz? . . . the floor above . . . so instead of going down I went up . . . Room 28 . . . knock knock! . . . herein! knock knock! . . . herein! . . . he's lying down . . . smoking . . . . . . he's lying down . . . smoking . . .

"I've forbidden you to smoke, Major!"

I light right into him! . . . it makes him laugh when I forbid him this and that . . . but it's the only way . . . doormat, and they walk all over you . . .

"Undress, Major! your injection!"

Almost every day I inject his 2 c.c.s . . . oh, he needs them! . . . indispensable! . . . fatigue . . . a false move . . .something very nasty could happen . . . there, stretched out naked on his bed, he looked exactly like what he was . . . an exhausted former athlete . . . swollen ankles . . . I auscultate . . . his heart . . . the heart never lies . . . if you listen, it tells you the whole story . . .

"Well, Doctor?"

"Oh, I've told you . . . five drops in a quarter of a gla.s.s of water for five days . . . and camphorated oil, your injection . . . and rest! no more fatigue! . . . and no more smoking! . . . especially no smoking!"

Raumnitz, I've got to admit, wasn't a bad sort . . . the kind of Boche you've got to take as he is . . . and considering where he comes from . . . I've lived with that brand of Bodies in North Prussia-Brandenburg . . . I was there as a kid, nine years old . . . and later I was interned there . . . I don't think much of the country . . . a sandy plain, poor soil with huge forests all around! . . . potato, hog, and mercenary country . . . and the storms on those plains! . . . Christ! people around here can't imagine . . . and those forests of sequoias . . . can't imagine them either . . . the height of those giants! more than four hundred feet! . . . What about Africa? you'll say . . . oh, it's not the same! . . . no sequoias! . . . and I know . . . I've been to a lot of places . . . great big ones . . . and tiny little ones . . . I know the Prussia of the von Raumnitzes . . . no tourist country! . . . dismal little lakes, still more funereal forests . . . just like Raumnitz . . . where he comes from . . . a Prussian-double-dealing country n.o.bleman, cruel, sinister, and swinish . . . but with his good sides too . . . a certain grandeur . . . the Grail, Teutonic Knight side . . . I'm a good hand at making people laugh, but that business in Vincennes, you can imagine, that spanking . . . had thrown him once and for all into such a brooding hatred that I had quite a time keeping him from flying off the handle and drilling me! . . . I could see it coming . . . right here and now! . . . especially in view of the spot I had to work on . . . the ridiculousness of his behind . . . I was always asking him if it still hurt . . . here? . . . and there? . . . it didn't look as if they'd only spanked him . . . theymust have hit him with rifle b.u.t.ts! I could see the marks, the bruises . . . I put in the needle right next to them . . . I made him lie on his side . . . ah, they hadn't used kid gloves! . . . it reminded me of those certificates . . . "I, the undersigned etc. . . . to having observed etc. . . . bruises and abrasions resulting from blows . . . the beatings which Madame Pellefroid claims to have incurred . . . on the . . . . the . . . . the . . . etc. . . .'" Sartrouville . . . Clichy . . . Bezons . . . I tried that one on him too! "beating which he claims to have incurred . . . etc." . . . a risky gag! . . .

"But he committed suicide, Doctor! the swine! the coward! Stupnagel! I knew him like a book! . . . I could have had him hanged a dozen times! do you hear? . . . do you believe me? . . . Stupnagel! a dozen times! . . . and everybody in the Castle too! that's right! . . . a dozen times! And everybody in Siegmaringen! a dozen times! traitors? Yes, traitors, every last one of them! I know them all. And Petain! you believe me, don't you, Doctor?"

"Certainly, Major! Certainly! I'm sure you are excellently informed . . . but calm yourself, Major! calm yourself! . . . think of your heart!"

Mostly I was thinking that if his rage brought on a stroke when I was there it wouldn't look very good for me . . .

"And how about the railroad station? . . . You've been there? . . ."

I wanted to put him onto a different subject . . .

"Yes, I've seen the station . . . I don't think you realize, Doctor . . . in those little riots . . . trumped up! the whole thing was trumped up! . . . bullets tend to go astray . . . take care of yourself, Doctor . . . don't go roaming around the streets so much . . ."

"Thank you, Major!"

I didn't want him to tell me any more . . . Brinon or he or the Devil's grandmother . . . people always regret their confidences . . . especially in rough times . . . confidences are for drawing rooms, for quiet conversational, digestive, somnolescent times . . . but here, with maniacs all over the place and the air full of Armadas . . . it was playing with thunder . . .no time for a.n.a.lyses! oh no! the slightest spark . . . the slightest milligram . . . you wouldn't know what would hit you!

Raumnitz, as I've told you, had been a doughty athlete . . . none of your powdered pansy gentry! oh no! an Olympic athlete! Olympic swimming champion of Germany . . . there, all naked on his bed, I could see what was left of the Olympics . . . muscles reduced and flabby . . . the frame still presentable . . . very presentable . . . the face too . . . those Durer features . . . features etched by Durer . . . hard face, not at all unpleasant . . . I've told you . . . he must have been handsome . . . Boche eyes and expression . . . same look as his mastiffs . . . not bad eyes, but fixed . . . haughty you might say . . . you seldom see a face with something in it, most faces are ma.s.s produced . . .

"Are you going to the Fidelis Fidelis, Doctor?"

"Oh yes, Major! Oh, certainly!"

The Fidelis Fidelis didn't send me . . . I had my reasons . . . I'll explain . . . didn't send me . . . I had my reasons . . . I'll explain . . .

"I'd like you to read a letter . . ."

"Later . . . later if you don't mind, Major . . . I won't be a minute . . ."

"You'll be back?"

"Oh, certainly . . . I hope so at least . . ."

"Watch out for Brinon! don't believe Laval! . . . don't believe Petain! don't believe Rochas!. . . don't believe Marion!"

"I don't have to believe them, Major . . . I don't worry my head about them . . . or you either . . . or myself . . ."

"All the same, read this letter!"

He really wants me to . . . I look at the signature first . . . Boisnieres . . . I know this Boisnieres, his job is guarding the nursing mothers at the Fidelis Fidelis . . . the nursery . . . to prevent goings-on . . . misbehavior . . . between the mothers and the shamuses at the . . . the nursery . . . to prevent goings-on . . . misbehavior . . . between the mothers and the shamuses at the Fidelis Fidelis . . . at least three hundred cops . . . four dormitories, two whole floors of the . . . at least three hundred cops . . . four dormitories, two whole floors of the Fidelis Fidelis . . . cops from every province of France, nothing whatever to do! escapees from every Prefecture . . . Boisnieres, known asNeuneuil, is the "nursery guard" . . . confidential police . . . "don't let anyone in" . . . Neuneuil and his cards! . . . yes, he's got a card file: three thousand names! the apple of his eye . . . the Fifis took the other eye when he was fighting the underground! gives you an idea how confidential he was! . . . I didn't want to read his letter, I didn't haye time . . . I knew Boisnieres-Neuneuil . . . I knew he was denouncing something again . . . or somebody . . . maybe me? . . . I know him! a pest! . . . one-eyed, scabies and boils, and a very eager beaver . . . . . . cops from every province of France, nothing whatever to do! escapees from every Prefecture . . . Boisnieres, known asNeuneuil, is the "nursery guard" . . . confidential police . . . "don't let anyone in" . . . Neuneuil and his cards! . . . yes, he's got a card file: three thousand names! the apple of his eye . . . the Fifis took the other eye when he was fighting the underground! gives you an idea how confidential he was! . . . I didn't want to read his letter, I didn't haye time . . . I knew Boisnieres-Neuneuil . . . I knew he was denouncing something again . . . or somebody . . . maybe me? . . . I know him! a pest! . . . one-eyed, scabies and boils, and a very eager beaver . . .

"Denouncing somebody again?"

"Yes, Doctor . . . yes . . . me!"

"To whom?"

"To Chancellor Hitler."

"Say, that's an idea!"

"Says he saw me going out in my car! Yes, me! To fish for trout instead of keeping tabs on the French . . . I deny nothing, Doctor! It's a fact! I'm guilty! Neuneuil is right! But don't you want to read his letter?"

"You've told me everything, Major . . . the essential . . ."

"No, not the essential! . . . your compatriot Neuneuil has discovered something worse, much worse . . . he says . . . his idea! . . . that I'm sabotaging the Luftwaffe! Luftwaffe! . . . that I waste five gallons of . . . that I waste five gallons of 'benzin' 'benzin' on my fis.h.i.+ng expeditions . . . and it's true! . . . absolutely true . . . I don't deny it! your compatriot Neuneuil is perfectly right!" on my fis.h.i.+ng expeditions . . . and it's true! . . . absolutely true . . . I don't deny it! your compatriot Neuneuil is perfectly right!"

"Oh, he's exaggerating, Major . . ."

"He's right to exaggerate!"

This is no time to contradict him . . . dialectics my a.s.s! birds of a feather! the whole lot of them! and their d.a.m.ned Luftwaffe! Luftwaffe! . . . for all the good it does them! I wasn't going to tell him that! . . . for all the good it does them! I wasn't going to tell him that!

"Wait, Doctor . . . wait! I've sent for him!"

Making me read the letter . . . and not letting me go . . . he wanted to show me Neuneuil!

"Please, Doctor! . . . Excuse me! . . . sit down!"

He puts on his pants . . . his boots . . . his jacket . . .

He goes to the door, he opens . . . he goes out to the bannister and leans over . . . he shouts . . .

"Hier! . . . Monsieur Boisnieres! Isn't Monsieur Boisnieres there?" . . . Monsieur Boisnieres! Isn't Monsieur Boisnieres there?"

"Yes yes, Major! Here I am! I'm coming!"

He comes all right, there he is . . .

"Come in! . . . You are Boisnieres, known as Neuneuil?"

"Yes, Major!"

"Then look me in the eye! Straight in the eye! . . . did you write this letter?"

"Yes, Major!"

"You admit it?" '

"Yes, Major!"

"Whom did you mail it to?"

"You have the address, Major!"

Oh, not the least bit intimidated . . .

"I was only doing my duty, Major!"

"Well, Monsieur Boisnieres, I'm going to do my duty! . . . alias Neuneuil! . . . look me straight in the eye! that's it . . . straight in the eye!"

Pow! . . . Pow! . . . two good hefty clouts that lift Neuneuil off his feet! . . . his bandage goes flying . . . torn off! . . . two good hefty clouts that lift Neuneuil off his feet! . . . his bandage goes flying . . . torn off!

"Well, Monsieur Boisnieres alias Neuneuil, that's my opinion! . . . moreover, I could have you punished a lot worse! . . . and you know it! . . . and I'm not . . . I could have punished you once and for all! miserable sc.u.m! . . . ah, so I waste gas? . . . ah, so I sabotage the Luftwaffe Luftwaffe? . . . I won't waste a little bullet to shut you up, Monsieur Neuneuil! or a knotted rope! . . . you're not worth the rope! go! get the h.e.l.l out of here! and don't let me see your face again! Never! If I ever see you here again, I'll have you drowned! You can go and visit the trout! Get out! Get out! On the double! To Berlin! Take your letter . . . Neuneuil! . . . don't lose it, Neuneuil! . . . You can read it to the Fuhrer in person! to Berlin! on the double! Monsieur Neuneuil! los! los! los! los! and don't let me ever see your face again! never! . . . and don't let me ever see your face again! never! . . . los! los! los! los! . . ." . . ."

He was really steamed up . . .

Neuneuil straightened his bandage . . .

"If I ever see you here again, you'll be shot! and drowned! . . . I'm telling you! There are plenty of grounds!"

That chewing-out had shaken Neuneuil . . . he was staggering . . . he put his bandage back on, but he made a bad job of it . . .

"Very well, Major! I have only to comply!"