A DISASTROUS DRINK
On the day of the opening of the National Assembly--that is, the day
before the first vital session--Leo Strakosch, equipped with a valise,
made various purchases. At Sacher’s he bought, for an outrageous sum
that once would have paid for an entire building on the Ringstrasse, a
Strassbourg _paté de foie gras_ in the original dish; and in the Hotel
Imperial he acquired three bottles of a delicious white Burgundy, three
bottles of the heaviest and most costly Bordeaux wines, and a bottle
of ancient French cognac. In the evening he waited before the entrance
of his house until he saw Herr Krötzl, about to go to a bar after the
solemn opening session of the Assembly. Leo congratulated him heartily
on his re-election, and said:
“My dear sir, I should also like to attend the historic session of the
House tomorrow. The meeting begins at eleven, so I’ll order my car for
ten o’clock; and if you’ve nothing against it, I’ll drive you over.”
Herr Krötzl felt highly flattered at the cordiality of the aristocratic
and apparently very wealthy young Frenchman. Thanking him profusely, he
accepted the invitation, adding:
“I’d be much obliged to you if you’d come to me at ten o’clock, ’cause
then I won’t be takin’ no chances of sleepin’ too late. My housekeeper,
the poor fool, might forget to wake me, an’ I sleep so sound that the
alarm can’t get me up. An’ that’d be a fine howdy-do, if I was to
oversleep tomorrow. Twenty-four hours later we’d have them damned pigs
o’ Jews back in Vienna!”
Henry Dufresne seemed to take his self-assumed task of saving Austria
from the Jews very seriously, for he rang Herr Krötzl’s doorbell
at only half-past nine. A slovenly, unwashed, but still rouged and
powdered young thing opened the door, and without further ado let in
the handsome Frenchman, whom she knew well and who was carrying a large
box. She was a little disappointed that he did not pay the slightest
attention to her and her considerably exposed body, but merely gave
her a bank-note and asked her please to fetch the morning papers
immediately from the store.
In the anteroom Leo made a great to-do about unpacking his box until
the girl had gone out on her errand; then he went quickly into the
kitchen, set the cuckoo clock back a full hour, tip-toed out into
the living-room and did the same to the grandfather clock there,
and finally, without knocking, noiselessly entered the door of the
Deputy’s bed-room, where the honorable gentleman lay under the covers,
thunderous snores issuing from his open mouth. Leo immediately
discovered the gold watch on the night table, pointing to a quarter of
ten. In a flash it was set to a quarter of nine, and then the Frenchman
entered on the unpleasant task of waking Herr Krötzl, the Viennese
pillar of the Christian-Socialist party. It took quite some time before
Krötzl at last opened his swollen little eyes and grasped the situation.
“Oh, Lord, it’s Herr Dufresne--is it as late as all that?” Then,
glancing at his watch, he growled: “’Tain’t even nine yet! I could ’a’
slept another hour!”
“Yes,” laughed Leo, “but I know a better way of entertaining you and
myself. Just think, when I came home last night I found a package from
Paris, and in it the best wines of France. Well, since I’m really happy
about your success, I thought we could celebrate our victory a little,
just we two, before we go on to the Parliament. For you, my dear sir,
being a connoisseur, will soon admit that never in all your life have
you tasted a wine to compare with the one I’ll pour out for you now.”
Electrified, Herr Krötzl leaped out of his bed, got partly dressed, and
admiringly stroked one after the other the six wine-bottles that stood
before him with all the earmarks of venerable age. There was white
bread, and the Strassbourg patty drew from Herr Krötzl a half-belch,
half-grunt that became a hymn of joy as the first glass of the golden
Burgundy trickled down his throat.
“W’at a wine! If I c’d have that all the time I’d be a diff’rent guy!
No wonder you Frenchies know how to live, if you got wine like this!”
The second glass was drained to the victory of Herr Krötzl, the third
to “Down with the Jews,” the fourth to “Long live beautiful Vienna,
free of Jews.” Then the neck of a bottle of blood-red Bordeaux was
broken, and when only the dregs were left in it, and Leo was uncorking
the third bottle, Krötzl declared he loved him like a brother. At the
fourth bottle he acquainted the Frenchman with the secrets of his
sexual life, and proclaimed that skirts over fourteen was nothin’
more nor less’n old women. When they reached the sixth bottle Leo,
unobserved by the half-dazed and quite dizzy Krötzl, mixed the wine
with an equal amount of cognac; but now they had to stop, for else it
would have been impossible ever to bring the worthy Deputy downstairs.
Besides, the correct time was twelve o’clock, so that there was danger
of Krötzl’s colleagues coming in at any moment to look for him.
Leo’s own sobriety after this drinking party was due solely to the
circumstance that he had each time emptied the contents of his glass
under the table, on the beautiful Persian rug.
With hard work Leo finished dressing the deputy, practically carried
him down several flights of stairs, and, with the assistance of the
chauffeur, put him in the interior of the closed car. The chauffeur had
grinned as he nodded to the Frenchman, whom he often drove about the
town. Leo entered, sat down beside Krötzl, who was lying in the corner
dead drunk, and the car rolled forward at moderate speed.
The day before Leo had had an important conference with the chauffeur,
beginning with the question:
“How’d you like to make a hundred French francs?”
The chauffeur’s eyes had grown to the size of saucers, his face had
flushed and he had gasped:
“Sir, I’ll take you to the moon for a hundred francs!”
But the Frenchman’s demands proved much more modest. He said that he
wanted to settle a wager, and that the chauffeur would merely have to
wait before the house in the Billrothstrasse until he, M. Dufresne,
would enter the car with a presumably very tipsy gentleman. Thereupon
the automobile was to go townward to the Opera, where the Frenchman
would get out. Then the ride was to continue to the large insane asylum
in Steinhof, far out in the extreme southwestern section of the city.
There the chauffeur was to wait until his inebriated fare would give a
sign of life. This was followed by further detailed instructions for
the quick-witted chauffeur.
Everything went off as had been planned. Even before the car reached
the Opera Herr Krötzl, after a violent attack of sickness, was enjoying
the sleep of the just tippler, so that his companion could leave him
without any difficulty. While Leo hastened to the Parliament the
chauffeur continued on his half hour’s ride to Steinhof; once there
he calmly stopped in the middle of the road, and smoked one of Leo’s
good cigarettes after the other. It was nearly two o’clock when Herr
Krötzl finally woke up, his head throbbing. Minutes passed before
he remembered where he was, and realized that he was all alone in
an automobile, and covered with filth from head to foot. Finally,
after some more minutes, he saw that he was not before the Parliament
Building at all, but in the immediate vicinity of the insane asylum
in Steinhof. Confused he consulted his watch, which, being an hour
slow, pointed to one o’clock. Horrified, Krötzl flung open the door,
and vented a furious flood of abuse on the chauffeur, who declared
with equanimity that he had understood Steinhof to be indicated as the
goal, and that the other gentleman had got out on the way. Thereupon
Krötzl tore his hair, wept and shouted, almost went raving mad, called
the chauffeur a traitor, hinted at a fearful conspiracy and revenge,
and finally pleaded with the driver, who was fast losing his polite
attitude, to drive to the Parliament Building at full speed.
The car actually went back about a thousand yards; then, however,
it stopped, far away from any human habitation, and the chauffeur,
shrugging his shoulders, announced that he could not go on, as the
motor was out of order.
Entirely sober by this time, Krötzl now sprinted the thousand yards
back to the insane asylum. There he confronted the door-man with so
much vehemence that the good fellow took him for an escaped inmate,
and summoned some keepers. Another half hour passed before Krötzl was
taken to a telephone; he could not, of course, be connected with the
Parliament Building immediately, as all its lines were busy; and when
he finally did get his connection, and the secretary of his party came
to the other end of the wire, a voice shouted in his ear that he was a
drunken swine, a crook, bought and paid for by the Jews, and that all
was over long ago.
“The Jewish law has been repealed!” With these words ringing in his
ears the wretched Deputy fell in a profound and beneficent swoon.