Part 35 (1/2)

Thus did Naphta astutely go about to turn Herr Settembrini's paean the wrong way and represent himself as the incarnation of the cheris.h.i.+ng severity of love-so that it was again impossible to distinguish which side was in the right, where G.o.d stood and where the Devil, where death and where life. Our readers will believe us that his antagonist insisted on giving him t.i.t for tat, paying in the newest-minted coin, receiving in his turn another just as good; thus the conversation proceeded, on the lines laid down. But Hans Castorp attended no longer. Joachim had remarked that he believed he had a feverish cold, and did not quite know what to do about it, as colds were not ”recus” up here. The duellists had paid him no heed, but Hans Castorp kept, as we have said, an eye on his cousin, and so got up, in the midst of a speech, relying on Ferge and Wehsal to display adequate thirst for further pedagogic disputation. On the way home he and Joachim agreed that it was best to invoke the official channels in matters like colds and sore throats. In other words, they would ask the bathing-master to see the Oberin, in order that something might be done to relieve the sufferer. It was well done. That very evening, directly after dinner, Adriatica knocked at Joachim's door, Hans Castorp being present, and asked what were the wishes of the young officer.

”Sore throat? Hoa.r.s.eness?” she repeated; ”what sort of antics are these, young 'un?” and undertook to pierce him with her eye. It was not Joachim's fault that their glances failed to meet, hers swerved aside. Yet she would continue to try, though experience must have taught her it was not given her to succeed in the undertaking. With the help of a sort of metal shoehorn from her pocket, she looked at the patient's tonsils, Hans Castorp standing by with the lamp. Rising on tiptoes to peer into Joachim's throat, she asked: ”Tell me, young 'un, do you ever swallow the wrong way?”

What could he answer? For the moment, while she peered into his throat, nothing; but even after she was done, he was at a loss. Naturally, in the course of his life, when eating or drinking he had swallowed the wrong way; but everybody did the same, and surely that could not be what she meant. He asked why: he could not remember the last time.

It was no matter, she said. It had merely occurred to her. He had taken a cold, she added, to the astonishment of the cousins, for colds were in the ordinary way taboo. In any case, it would be necessary to have the Hofrat's laryngeal mirror for further examination of the throat. She left some formamint, and a bandage with a guttapercha sheath, to be used for a moist compress during the night. Joachim availed himself of both, finding they gave relief. He continued to use them; but his hoa.r.s.eness persisted, it even grew worse in the next few days, though the sore throat largely disappeared.

His fever proved imaginary-at least the thermometer gave no more than the usual result, that, namely, which together with the results of the Hofrat's examinations kept our ambitious Joachim here for his little after-cure, instead of letting him return to the colours. The October terminus had slipped by and no man named it, neither the Hofrat nor the cousins between themselves. They let it pa.s.s, in silence, with downcast eyes. From the diagnosis which Behrens dictated at the monthly examinations to to the psychically expert a.s.sistant sitting at his table, and from the results shown by the photographic plate, it was all too clear that though there had once been a departure, of which the best that could be said was that it had been decidedly risky, this time there was nothing for it but iron self-discipline, until such a day as entire immunity might be won, for the fulfilment of the oath and the service of the flat-land. the psychically expert a.s.sistant sitting at his table, and from the results shown by the photographic plate, it was all too clear that though there had once been a departure, of which the best that could be said was that it had been decidedly risky, this time there was nothing for it but iron self-discipline, until such a day as entire immunity might be won, for the fulfilment of the oath and the service of the flat-land.

Such was the decree with which, one and all, they silently pretended to be in agreement. But the truth was, neither of the cousins was sure the other believed it; if they did not meet each other's eyes, it was because of the doubt both pairs of eyes sought to hide, and because the eyes had met before. That, of course, often happened, after the colloquy on the subject of literature, during which Hans Castorp had first remarked the strange new light and ominous expression in the depths of his cousin's eyes. And happened once at table. Joachim suddenly choked violently, and could scarcely get his breath. While he gasped behind his serviette, and his neighbour, Frau Magnus, performed the time-honoured service of slapping him on the back, the cousins' eyes met, in a way more alarming to Hans Castorp than the incident itself, that being something that might happen to anyone. Then Joachim closed his eyes and left the table, his face covered with his serviette, to cough himself out in the garden. Ten minutes later he came back, smiling, if rather pale, and with excuses on his lips for the disturbance. He went on again with his hearty meal, and no one thought afterwards even of wasting a word on so trifling an episode. But some days later, at second breakfast, the thing occurred again; this time there was no meeting of eyes, at least on the part of the cousins, for Hans Castorp bent over his plate and went on eating without seeming to notice. But after the meal they spoke of it, and Joachim freed his mind on the subject of that d.a.m.ned female who had put the thing in his head with her silly question and somehow or other set a spell on him. Yes, it was obviously a case of suggestion, Hans Castorp agreed, and as such rather amusing, despite its annoying side. And Joachim, having named it, seemed able to counteract the spell; he was careful at table, and did not choke any more frequently than persons not bewitched. Not until nine or ten days later did it occur again-where there was simply nothing to be said.

But he was summoned out of his order to Rhadamanthus. The Oberin had so arranged it, probably with good sense; since there was a laryngeal mirror at hand, it was well to make use of that clever little device for the relief of the obstinate hoa.r.s.eness or even total lack of voice from which he suffered for hours at a time, and the sore throat, which recurred whenever he omitted to keep his throat pa.s.sages soft by various salivating medicaments. Not to mention, indeed, that though he choked as other people do, and no more frequently, this was only by dint of the very greatest care, which hindered him at his meals, and made him late in finis.h.i.+ng.

The Hofrat, then, mirrored, reflected, peered deep into Joachim's throat, and when he had done, Joachim went straight to his cousin's balcony to give him the result. He said, half whispering, as it was the hour for the afternoon cure, that it had been bothersome, and tickled a good deal. Behrens had rambled on about an inflamed condition, and said the throat must be painted every day; they were to begin tomorrow, as the medicament had to be put up. An inflamed condition, then, and it was to be painted. Hans Castorp, his head full of far-reaching a.s.sociations, having to do for instance with the lame concierge, and that lady who had gone about for a week holding her ear, and need not have troubled herself, would have liked to put more questions. But he refrained, inwardly resolving to see the Hofrat privately, and said to Joachim he was glad the trouble was being treated, and that the Hofrat had taken it personally in hand. He was top-hole in his line, he would soon put it right. Joachim nodded without looking at him, turned and went into his balcony.

What troubled our honour-loving Joachim? In these last days his eyes had grown so shy, so uncertain in their glance. Fraulein von Mylendonk's efforts had suffered s.h.i.+pwreck only the other day against his mild dark gaze; but now had she tried, she might even have succeeded. For Joachim avoided meeting people's eyes; and even when he met them, as he sometimes must notwithstanding, for his cousin looked at him a good deal, Hans Castorp was not greatly the wiser. He sat now in his balcony much cast down, and tempted to see the chief upon the spot, but refrained, for Joachim must have heard him get up; it was better to wait, and see Behrens later in the afternoon.

That proved impossible. It seemed he simply could not lay eyes on the Hofrat; either that evening, or in the course of the two following days. It was difficult to prevent Joachim from noticing; but that could not fully account for the fact that Rhadamanthus was not to be brought to bay. Hans Castorp sought and asked for him through the house; was sent here or there where he would be certain to find him, and found only that he had gone. Behrens was present at a meal, indeed, but sat far off Hans Castorp, at the ”bad” Russian table, and disappeared before the sweet. Once or twice, seeing him stand in talk with Krokowski, with the Oberin, with a patient, on the stairs or in the pa.s.sage, Hans Castorp thought he had him, and only needed to wait. But chancing to turn away his eyes a minute, he looked back to find him vanished. On the fourth day he succeeded. From his balcony he saw his prey below, giving directions to the gardener; slipped forth of his covers and ran down. He saw the Hofrat's back, as he was paddling in the direction of his own house, set off at a smart pace after him, even took the liberty of calling, but the Hofrat paid no heed. At last, breathless, he caught up his quarry and brought him to a stand.

”What are you doing here?” demanded the Hofrat, and goggled his eyes. ”Shall I get an extra-special copy of the house rules printed for you? Seems to me this is the rest period. Your curve and your x-ray don't justify you in playing the independent gentleman, so far as I know. I ought to set up a scarecrow to gobble up people who have the cheek to come down and walk about in the garden at this hour.” ”Herr Hofrat, I absolutely must speak to you for a moment.”

”I've been observing for some days that you thought you had. You've been laying traps for me, as though I were a female and the object of your pa.s.sion. What do you want?”

”It is on account of my cousin, Herr Hofrat. Pardon me-he is coming to you to have his throat painted.-I feel sure the thing is all right-it is quite harmless, isn't it, if you will pardon my asking?”

”You are always for having everything harmless, Castorp-that is the nature of you. You rather like mixing in matters that are not harmless, but you treat them as though they were and think to find favour in the eyes of G.o.d and man. You're a bit of a hypocrite, Castorp, and a bit of a coward; your cousin puts it very euphemistically when he calls you a civilian.”

”That may all be, Herr Hofrat. The weaknesses of my character are beyond question. But that is just the point-at the moment they are not in question: what I've been trying for three days to ask you is-”

”That I'll wrap up the dose in jelly for you-isn't that it? You want to badger me into abetting your d.a.m.ned hypocrisy, so that you can sleep in comfort, while other people have to wake and watch and grin and bear it.” ”But, Herr Hofrat, why are you so hard on me? I actually want to-”

”Yes, yes, hardness isn't your line, I know. Your cousin's a different sort, quite another pair of shoes. He knows. He knows- He knows-and keeps quiet. Understand? He doesn't go about hanging on to people's coat-tails and asking them to help him pull the wool over his eyes! He knows what he did, and what he risked, and he is the kind to bite his teeth together on it. That's the kind of thing a man, that is a man, can do: unfortunately it isn't in the line of a fascinating biped like yourself. But I warn you, Castorp, if you are going to give way to your civilian feelings and set up a howl, I'll simply show you the door. What we need now is a man man. You understand?”

Hans Castorp was silent. Nowadays he too turned mottled when he changed colour, being too copper-tinted to grow really pale. At last, with twitching lips, he said: ”Thank you, Herr Hofrat. I understand now-at least, I feel sure you would not speak to me so-so solemnly if it weren't serious with Joachim. But I dislike scenes very much-you do me injustice there. If the thing requires judgment and discretion, I think I can promise you I shall not be wanting.”

”You set great store by your cousin, Hans Castorp?” asked the Hofrat, as suddenly he gripped the young man's hand, and looked at him with his blue, blood-veined, protruding eyes, under their white eyelashes.

”What is there to say, Herr Hofrat? A near relation, and-and my good friend and only companion up here”-Hans Castorp gulped and turned one foot about on its toesas he stood. The Hofrat hastened to let go his hand.

”Well, then be as good to him as you can, these next six or eight weeks,” he said. ”Just turn yourself loose and give free rein to your native harmlessness. That will help him the most. I'll be here too, to help make things comfortable, and befitting the officer and gentleman he is.”

”It's the larynx, isn't it?” Hans Castorp asked, inclining his head in answer.

”Laryngea,” Behrens a.s.sented. ”Breaking down fast. The mucous membrane of the trachea looks bad too. Maybe yelling commands in the service set up a locus minoris locus minoris resistentiae resistentiae there. But we must always be ready for such little diversions. Not much hope, my lad; really none at all, I suppose. Of course, we'll try everything that's good and costs money.” ”The mother,” began Hans Castorp. there. But we must always be ready for such little diversions. Not much hope, my lad; really none at all, I suppose. Of course, we'll try everything that's good and costs money.” ”The mother,” began Hans Castorp.

”Later on, later on. No hurry. Use your discretion, and see that she comes into the picture at the right time. And now get back where you belong. He will miss you-it can't be pleasant for him to feel himself discussed behind his back.”

Daily Joachim went to be painted, in the fine autumn weather. In white flannel trousers and blue blazer, he would come back late from his treatment, neat and military; would enter the dining-room, make his little bow, courteous and composed, in excuse of his tardiness, and sit down to his meal, which was specially prepared, for he no longer ate the regular food, on account of the danger of choking; he received minces and broths. His table-mates grasped quickly the state of affairs. They returned his greetings with unusual warmth, and addressed him as Lieutenant. When he was not there they asked after him of Hans Castorp; and even people from the other tables came up to inquire. Frau Stohr wrung her hands, and exhausted herself in vulgar lamentations. But Hans Castorp replied only in monosyllables, admitted the seriousness of the affair, yet to a certain extent made light of it, in the honourable design not to betray his cousin untimely.

Daily they took their walks together, thrice covering the prescribed distance, to which the Hofrat had now strictly limited Joachim, in order to husband his strength. Hans Castorp walked at his cousin's left. They had been used to walk as chance had it, but now he held consistently to the left. They did not talk much; uttered the phrases proper to the daily routine, and little else. On the subject that lay between them there is nothing to say, especially between people of traditional reserve, who could scarcely bring themselves to utter each other's first names. Sometimes it did well up insistently in Hans Castorp's civilian breast, as though it must out. But it could not: the painful, rebellious feeling sank away again, and he was still.