Part 32 (1/2)

”And anyhow,” he continued, ”all this refers to private thoughts of my own, about which I can't tell you just yet. I am now going to make the final experiment, and then I shall have to decide.”

”What?”

”Whether I remain an officer or not.”

This struck Reimers like a blow. ”Guntz, you are mad!” he cried.

His friend shook his head gravely, and said, ”We shall see.”

Meanwhile, Guntz coolly took up the glove which Landsberg in his presumption had thrown down. He had decided that, if possible, he would only meet the young man's impudence with the weapons which stood at his command as the head of the battery.

One day Guntz had ordered Landsberg to superintend the checking of the stores ordered by the regiment, and found him instead fast asleep and carefully covered up on a sofa. This was a gross breach of duty; for according to the rules the officer in charge should have himself supervised the checking of the stores by one of the sergeants. But this was not all; Landsberg had had gunners posted on the watch, so that he should not be surprised by his commanding officer, and that was misappropriation of the service staff.

When called to order, he coolly excused himself: ”I beg your pardon, sir; but I really thought it could not matter much about a few dozen horseshoe nails more or less.”

Guntz felt it would have been trouble wasted to explain to the lieutenant how it was perfectly possible that the lack of ”a few dozen horseshoe nails” might be the cause of a battery's immobility in time of need. He simply rebuked him briefly and sharply.

Landsberg took the punishment in strictly correct style. But a most unreasonable anger gleamed in his eyes. He made up his mind in all seriousness that he would complain of Guntz, and tried to get his fellow-subaltern, Reimers, to a.s.sociate himself with him. Reimers, however, refused politely and decidedly, and moreover spoke to Landsberg for his good, strongly advising him to submit to discipline and amend his behaviour.

Landsberg was apparently convinced, and for a time his behaviour rarely gave occasion for blame. But in the circle of the younger officers he let fall dark insinuations that he would be revenged for the ”insult”

which the hateful martinet Guntz had inflicted on him. He gradually worked up a genuine hatred of Guntz, and this hatred took an important place in his previously empty life. He vowed Guntz must stand in front of his pistol, even if it cost him his officer's sword-knot. With every reprimand this fury increased, till Landsberg determined to pick a quarrel with Guntz and somehow positively insult him, when a duel would be unavoidable.

At last an accident brought things to a climax.

The officers of the second division of the regiment were in the habit of going occasionally to the Auer, a lonely forest tavern, during the summer months, to play skittles. The Auer was about an hour's distance from the garrison, and lay nearly in the middle of the pine forest, which extended over the mountains and beyond the frontier. The younger men bicycled there and back, while their elders either rode or drove.

Major Schrader arranged these excursions, and bore the expenses himself. They were partly intended to provide opportunities for personal intercourse between him and his officers.

He declared himself a lover of rural life, and the party always fell in with country ways quite contentedly. Pilsener beer was the tipple, or, at most, a little brandy or gin; and in the way of food, fresh eggs and b.u.t.ter, black country bread and strong ham, played the princ.i.p.al parts.

Scandal-mongers of course wanted to know whether, the Auer's landlady had been a former sweetheart of the major's, and Schrader defended himself laughingly against the insinuation; although he need not have been ashamed of the dignified, buxom woman, so scrupulously neat and clean. It certainly was a fact that no one ever saw the landlord of the Auer, and that the landlady's two smart boys, who helped so cheerfully in picking up the skittles, bore a striking resemblance to the major.

It was in the courtyard of the Auer tavern, when, after one of these excursions of Major Schrader's, they were getting their bicycles out of the shed, that Landsberg's rancour broke out.

He had not been thinking about his grievances at the moment. He had preferred a stronger drink than the light beer, had almost emptied a half bottle of gin, and was more inclined for sleep than for anything else, so that he did not find his bicycle quickly. Guntz made some harmless chaffing remark, and a violent quarrel broke out.

Finally Guntz turned away, shrugging his shoulders. He considered that Landsberg was drunk. But the lieutenant suddenly ran after him and aimed a blow at him, striking him on the arm. The other men at once threw themselves between the two, and held Landsberg fast. The young fellow, perfectly mad with rage, kicked out with his feet and literally foamed at the mouth.

Schrader had him taken home in a carriage by his adjutant and Captain Madelung. To Reimers he said: ”My dear Reimers, you will see that your friend Guntz goes home quietly, won't you?” And Reimers replied: ”Yes, sir.”

Guntz signed to his friend to remain behind. From the dark skittle-alley they could watch their comrades starting for the town, all much depressed by the untoward occurrence, speaking in undertones, and accompanying their whispered words with restrained gestures.

For a few minutes Guntz walked silently up and down the gravel-strewn skittle-alley. Reimers sat down in a small arbour, where the empty barrel still lay upon a bed of ice. When Guntz stood still, Reimers could hear the drops of the melting ice falling into the earthen basin.

Otherwise all was silent, until the steps on the crunching gravel approached once more.

”I think we can go now,” said Guntz, in his calm voice, which only sounded a little harder than usual.

Reimers answered: ”All right, if you like.”

”Yes. Let us go.”