Composers -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English; Germany -- Fiction
He said quietly and firmly: “I must have three thousand seven hundred
marks by ten o’clock to-morrow morning. It is a question of saving an
honourable and upright family from ruin. If this sum is handed over to
me promptly, I will waive all rights to the balance that is due me, in
writing. The receipt will be filled out ready for delivery in my house.
If the money is not in my hands by the stipulated time, we will meet
each other in another place and in the presence of people who will
impress you.”
He turned to go.
Jason Philip’s mouth opened wide, and he pressed his fist to the hole
made thereby. “Three thousand seven hundred marks?” he roared. “The man
is crazy. Completely crazy is the man. Man, man, you’re crazy,” he cried
in order to get Daniel to stop. “Are you crazy, man? Do you want to ruin
me? Don’t you hear, you damned man?”
Daniel looked at Jason Philip with a shudder. The door to the adjoining
room sprang open, and Theresa rushed in. Her face was ashen pale; there
were just two little round red spots on her cheek bones. “You are going
to get that money, Daniel,” she howled hysterically, “or I am going to
jump into the Pegnitz, I’ll jump into the Pegnitz and drown myself.”
“Woman, you ...” he gnashed his teeth, and seized her by the shoulder.
She sank down on a chair, and, seizing her hair, continued: “He is
everywhere, and wherever he is, our dear Gottfried, he is looking at me.
He stands before the clothes press, at the cupboard, by my bedside,
nods, exhorts, raises his finger, finds no peace in his grave, and does
not let me sleep; he has not let me sleep all these years.”
“Now listen, you had better think of your children,” snapped Jason
Philip.
Theresa let her hands fall in her lap, and looked down at the floor:
“All that nice money, that nice money,” she cried. Then again, this time
with a face distorted beyond easy recognition and at the top of her
voice: “But you’ll get it, Daniel; I’ll see to it that you get it: I’ll
bring it to you myself.” Then again, in a gentle voice of acute
lamentation: “All that nice money.”
Daniel was almost convulsed. It seemed to him as if he had never rightly
understood the word _money_ before, as if the meaning of _money_ had
never been made clear to him until he heard Theresa say it.
“To-morrow morning at ten o’clock,” he said.
Theresa nodded her head in silence, and raised her hands with
outstretched fingers as if to protect herself from Jason Philip.
Willibald and Markus had crept under the door. The gate must not have
been closed, for just then Philippina came in. She had come over with
Daniel, but had remained outside on the street. She could not wait any
longer; she was too anxious to see the consequences of her betrayal.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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