The World's Illusion, Volume 2 (of 2): RuthWassermann, Jakob
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The World's Illusion, Volume 2 (of 2): Ruth
Wassermann, Jakob
German fiction -- Translations into English
“It is not easy to define the rôle which Szilaghin plays in Eva’s
present life. Now he seems to be her warder, now her seducer. No one
knows whether he desires to please and win her, or whether he is but
the servant and Argus of his sombre lord and friend. I believe that
Eva herself is in the dark on this point. His enigmatic character, his
masterly subtlety and impenetrable faithlessness seemed to me like
the visible symbols of the darkening and disquietude of Eva’s soul.
There is no doubt that he acted with her knowledge and consent when he
undertook to punish Yaminsky. But I dare not decide whether they ever
actually spoke of the matter, whether it was done at his or her demand,
whether her disappointment made her yield to him or her anger made her
revengeful for herself, whether he acted in defence of her honour or
that of his master. At all events, the punishment was accomplished.
“The deed itself is hidden in mystery and twilight, and is described
with rather repulsive details. Last Wednesday evening Yaminsky was
dining with friends in a side room at Cubat’s on the great Morskaia.
Shortly before midnight the door was torn open, and four young men,
muffled in furs to their eyes, made their way in. Three of them
surrounded Yaminsky, and one turned out the lights. Immediately a
shot resounded, and before Yaminsky’s friends had recovered from their
amazement, the strangers were gone. Yaminsky lay on the floor, soaking
in his blood. Szilaghin was definitely recognized as one of the four.
“The boldest stroke came later. In the tumult that arose among the
guests of the restaurant, the body of the murdered man had been
forgotten. People called for the police and ran and shoved and asked
questions. In the meantime a cab stopped at the door. Two men made
their way through the crowd to where the dead man lay, and carried him
past the staring bystanders into the cab. No one prevented them. The
cab raced down the Nevski to the Palace Bridge and stopped. The two
dragged the body to the shore, and flung it down among the ice floes of
the wintry Neva.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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