It continued to rain. Armed with a white flag, the fat cousin arrived to
propose to Prokop that he should give in; in return he should get back
his laboratory. Prokop announced that he would not do so, that before
that he would allow himself to be blown into the air. Further, that he
was going to do something; let them wait and see! On receiving this
dark threat the cousin withdrew. In the castle they were evidently very
displeased at the fact that the proper entrance was blockaded, but did
not make a fuss about it.
Dr. Krafft, the pacifist, was overflowing with wild and belligerent
proposals. He wanted to cut off the current from the castle and cut off
their water supply; to manufacture some sort of poison gas, and release
it in the castle. Holz had discovered a lot of old newspapers; he
produced a pair of pince-nez from some mysterious pocket and spent the
whole day in reading, looking extraordinarily like a university lecturer.
Prokop was painfully bored; he was burning to take some military step
but did not know how to set about it. Finally he left Holz to guard the
little house and went out with Krafft into the park.
There was nobody to be seen in it; the enemy’s forces were concentrated
in the castle. He walked round it to the side on which it was adjoined
by the sheds and stables. “Where’s Whirlwind?” he suddenly asked. Krafft
indicated a small window about nine feet from the ground. “Lean against
the wall,” whispered Prokop, climbed on to his back and then stood on
his shoulders so as to look inside. Krafft nearly fell under his weight,
and to make matters worse Prokop was dancing on his shoulders—what was
he doing? A heavy window-frame fell on the ground and a quantity of
rubble crumbled down from the wall. Suddenly a beam also dropped and the
terrified Krafft raised his head to see two legs disappearing through the
window.
The Princess was just giving Whirlwind a piece of bread and looking
reflectively at his beautiful eyes when she heard the noise in the window
and saw in the twilight of the stable the familiar mutilated hand which
was removing the wire screen from the window. She placed her hands on her
mouth to prevent herself crying out.
Head first, Prokop fell on to Whirlwind’s back, jumped down, and there he
was, certainly torn, but intact, out of breath and attempting a smile.
“Quiet,” said the Princess fearfully, for there was a groom just behind
the door. Then she threw her arms round his neck: “Prokopokopak!” He
pointed to the window outside. “Where?” whispered the Princess, kissing
him.
“To the doorkeeper.”
“You stupid! How many are there of you?”
“Three.”
“You can see it’s no good!” She stroked his face. “Don’t attempt it.”
Prokop considered whether there was any other way of abducting her,
but it was dark inside the stable, and the smell of a horse is somehow
exciting. Their eyes gleamed and they kissed passionately. Suddenly she
broke away and recoiled, whispering: “Go away! Go!” They stood opposite
one another trembling and with a feeling that the passion which possessed
them was an unclean one. He looked away and idly turned a rung in the
ladder; only then did he regain control of himself. He swung round
towards her and saw that she was biting her handkerchief. She pressed
it to her lips and handed it him without a word, as a reward or as a
souvenir. And he kissed his arm on the place where her distracted hand
had rested. Never had they loved one another so wildly as at that moment,
when they were unable to speak and feared to touch one another.
Then there was the sound of steps grating in the gravel outside. The
Princess made a sign to him. Prokop swung himself up the ladder, seized
some hook or other in the ceiling and, feet first, slipped out of the
window. When he had reached the ground again Dr. Krafft threw his arms
round him in delight. “You’ve cut the horses’ tendons, eh?” he whispered
bloodthirstily; he evidently considered this as a necessary military
precaution.
Prokop silently made his way back to the guard’s house, impelled by
anxiety regarding Holz. When still some distance away he saw the terrible
thing that had happened: two men were standing in the gate, a gardener
was erasing from the sand the traces of a struggle, the gate was half
open,—and Holz was gone. But one of the men had a handkerchief tied
round his hand; Mr. Holz had bitten him seriously.
Prokop returned to the park, gloomy and speechless. Dr. Krafft imagined
that his superior was concocting another offensive plan and therefore
did not disturb him; but Prokop, sighing deeply, sat down on a stump and
became absorbed in the contemplation of some torn rag or other. On the
path there appeared a workman, pushing in front of him a wheelbarrow full
of dead leaves. Krafft, seized with suspicion, set on him and gave him
a most terrible beating, in the course of which he lost his spectacles.
Then he took the wheelbarrow, representing the spoils of the victory, and
hurried back with it to Prokop. “He’s run off,” he announced, and his
short-sighted eyes shone with triumph. Prokop only grunted and continued
to examine the snow-white object which fluttered in his hands. Krafft
occupied himself with the wheelbarrow, trying to think what the trophy
would be good for. Finally it occurred to him to turn it upside down: “We
can sit on it!”
Prokop picked himself up and went towards the lake, Dr. Krafft following
him with the wheelbarrow, probably for the transport of the future
wounded. They established themselves in a swimming bath built out on
posts over the water. Prokop went round the cubicles. The largest was
that belonging to the Princess and still contained a mirror, a handful
of hair, a couple of hair-pins, a shaggy bathing-robe and some sandals,
intimate and abandoned objects. He forbade Krafft to enter it and
settled down with him in the men’s cubicle on the other side. Krafft was
radiant; he now possessed a fleet consisting of two Rob Roys, a canoe and
a tub-shaped boat which was relatively a super-dreadnought. Prokop spent
a long time in silently walking up and down the platform over the grey
lake and then disappeared into the Princess’s cubicle, sat down on her
couch, took the shaggy bathing-gown into his hands and buried his face
in it. Dr. Krafft, who, in spite of his incredible lack of observation,
had some inkling of his secret, respected his feelings, and went about
the place on tiptoe, baling out the water from the warship with a tin and
getting together some suitable oars. He displayed considerable military
talents, ventured on to the bank and carried stones of all sizes to the
bathing-place, including huge ones torn out of a neighbouring wall.
Then, plank by plank, he tore up the bridge connecting the bathing-place
with the bank. From the material which he thus obtained he was able to
barricade the entrance, and he further discovered some priceless rusty
nails which he bent into the blades of the oars, points upwards. In this
way he obtained a powerful and really dangerous arm.
Having put everything in order and seen that it was all right he wished
to report to his superior what he had done, but Prokop was still shut up
in the Princess’s cubicle and was so quiet that it seemed as if he were
not breathing. So Dr. Krafft remained alone on the floating platform,
which splashed coldly on the surface of the water. Now and then there
was a plop! as some fish leapt out of the water and fell back again, and
sometimes a rustling in the rushes. Dr. Krafft began to feel uneasy in
the midst of this solitude.
He coughed in front of his leader’s cubicle and now and then said
something under his breath to attract his attention. Finally Prokop came
out with his lips set and a wild look in his eyes. Krafft showed him over
the new fortress, and pointed out everything, finally demonstrating to
him when the enemy would come within range of a stone; in indicating this
he very nearly fell into the water. Prokop said nothing but put his arm
round his neck and kissed him, and Dr. Krafft, quite rosy with delight,
would have done ten times as much for him as he had already.
They sat down on a seat near the water, at the spot where the Princess
used to bask in the sun. Clouds began to get up in the west and a sickly
strip of yellow sky appeared an infinite distance away. The whole of the
lake began to glow, broke into ripples, and became suffused with a pale
and gentle light. Dr. Krafft developed impromptu a completely new theory
of eternal warfare, the control of power, and the salvation of the world
through heroism. Everything that he said was in painful contrast with the
torturing melancholy of this autumnal twilight, but luckily Dr. Krafft
was short-sighted, and in addition, an idealist, and, as a consequence,
completely independent of the influence of his chance surroundings. Apart
from the cosmic beauty of the moment, they were both conscious of being
cold and hungry. And then on the land they heard the short, quick steps
of Mr. Paul, who approached with a basket on his arm, looking to the
right and left and periodically calling out in his little old voice:
“Cuckoo! Cuckoo!” Prokop went across to him on the warship and tried to
force him to say who had sent him. “Nobody, please,” asserted the old
man; “but my daughter Elizabeth is the housekeeper.” He would have talked
further about his daughter Elizabeth, but Prokop stroked his white hair
and told him to tell this nameless person that he was well and strong.
That day Dr. Krafft drank alone, gossiped, philosophized, and again
expressed his contempt for all philosophy; action, he maintained, was
everything. Prokop sat trembling on the Princess’ seat and all the time
kept his eye on one star. God knows why he selected that particular one,
which was a yellow one in the constellation of Orion. It was not true
that he was well; he had pains in the places in which he had suffered
from them in Tynice, his head was spinning and he was trembling with
fever. When he wanted to say anything his tongue somehow failed him, and
his teeth chattered so much that Dr. Krafft became sobered and almost
uneasy. He hastily stretched Prokop out on the couch in the cubicle
and covered him with all sorts of things, including the Princess’s
bathing-gown. He also placed a cold compress on his forehead. Prokop
asserted that he had a cold; about midnight he went off to sleep,
semi-delirious and a prey to the most terrible dreams.