German fiction -- Translations into English; Short stories, German -- Translations into English
This had all happened so quickly, so unexpectedly, that George did
not have time to prevent it. But he controlled himself at once, and
without a sign of haste, strapping the knapsack to his back, he walked
leisurely toward the table where the man sat. “Let Tertschka out of the
cellar!”
The hands of the foreman shook. And as George repeated his demand for
the third time, vehemently, the man sprang up and clenched his fist.
“Go at once--go!” he cried, “or--”
“Or what?” asked George calmly. “I am not afraid of you, though you are
stronger than I am. It was easy enough to knock me down before, for I
was then as defenseless as Tertschka is now, but now we stand face to
face.”
The man’s color grew livid; hate, revengefulness, cowardice, struggled
in his face. His fury almost choked him, and his hands shook as he
stretched them out to seize something, he knew not what. George noticed
all this, and his courage grew in consequence. “I advise you to give up
freely what is mine,” he said, “or I will take it by force.”
At that moment some of the men entered; it was almost noon. Instinct
had probably told them that something unusual was going on, and they
did not wish to miss it. Their presence had a stimulating effect upon
the furious man; he felt safer, and his cowardice, of which he was well
aware, now grew to temerity, by reason of this very fear of detection.
“Did you hear that?” he cried, addressing the men; “this miserable
fellow dares to threaten me because I locked Tertschka in so that she
could not run away with him.”
“Don’t insult us,” cried George, whose blood was mounting in spite
of himself. “We are two honest people. You have no right to lock up
Tertschka!”
“What? I have no right? Why, the girl was brought up by me!”
“God have pity on her if she was brought up by you! I shall say no
more; I will spare you before all these people!” And with that he
pointed toward the men, who were watching the growing quarrel with a
kind of dull pleasure.
“Listen to the dog! He will spare me, will he! Seize him and throw him
out!” The men looked at each other irresolutely, but they did not move.
Behind the cellar door there was an audible moaning.
“Do you see?” continued George with rising excitement, “no one thinks
of laying hands on me. For the last time I tell you, set Tertschka
free--or I will take the hammer to it.”
“Out, you thief! or I will send for the police!”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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