The Breaking of the Storm

I have laid before you the actual position of the Berlin-Sundin Railway Company; I have confessed that our only hope is a continuation of the Sundin railway through your island to some harbour which will be, as it were, the head of the serpent; in other words that we can only save our first project by a second, which will be supported by the first. On this point our interests are common, however much apart they may be elsewhere. It is our interest to obtain this continuation, even if that head of the serpent, the harbour, were in the moon, let alone anywhere upon the island, even in the north. Your interests demand that an Eastern terminus should be chosen, to which the railway would run through your whole property. Good. I come to you⁠—offer you, so to say, my outstretched hand, show you the means and the way, how, by some quite possible cleverness, you may set aside all present obstacles which are in your way⁠—remember that, Count Golm⁠—not in ours⁠—for this object put you in possession of a family secret as I did before of a business secret, and finally offer you, if I may so express myself, the hand of a young, handsome, and charming woman, and you tell me that I have come in vain!”

The Councillor took up his hat, but the Count still did not move from his seat.

“It certainly is most ungrateful of me,” said he, “but you know no one is pleased with the most agreeable of prospects when he is in such a disagreeable position as I am.”

The Councillor slowly brushed the top of his hat round and round with his elbow.

“I am going to make a proposal, Count Golm. We have both spoken warmly; a walk in the cool of the evening will do you good also; take your hat and let me have the honour of taking you with me on my visit.”

“Who are you going to see?”

“The contractor of our railway, Herr Philip Schmidt.”

The Count raised himself in his chair, and then let himself immediately fall back.

“I hate the name,” he said moodily.

“What in all the world has the name to do with the matter?” answered the Councillor; “and really Herr Philip Schmidt will take it as a matter of course that it should be a great honour to him to make the personal acquaintance of Count Golm; and, furthermore, Herr Schmidt is not only a rich but a rising man, and, as our contractor, is very intimate with our banker, Herr Hugo Lübbener, who is also Count Golm’s banker⁠—enfin, the most appropriate individual to arrange a temporary difficulty for the Count, or if as I can fancy this way would not suit him, to enable him to settle the various accounts with Lübbener in the most speedy manner.”

“But one cannot storm a man’s very door,” cried the Count; “you must at least make some excuse for me.”

“That is easily done,” said the Councillor; “Herr Schmidt is the happy possessor of one of our finest private picture-galleries. Count Golm’s passion for art is well known; what more natural than that Count Golm should call upon Herr Schmidt, as Herr Schmidt, with the best will in the world, cannot bring his gallery to the Count’s hotel?”

“Only that nine o’clock in the evening is perhaps not the best hour for such a purpose,” said the Count, looking at the clock.

“For what purpose were reflectors invented?” answered the Councillor, smiling.

“I will go with you!” exclaimed the Count, springing up.

The Councillor coughed behind his hat, and thus happily hid the smile that played about his broad, beardless lip.

“After all it will not do,” said the Count. “I promised Herr von Werben⁠—”

“The Lieutenant?”

“Of course, to be at home; he wished to fetch me at ten o’clock, to take me I do not know where.”

“Herr von Werben would not think much of such an obstacle,” said the Councillor, with well-acted repressed impatience; “write on a card that you are at So-and-so’s, and beg him to come and fetch you.”

“But he does not know this man!”

“Yes, he does; I happen to know it from Herr Schmidt himself.”

The Count had rung for his servant to give him his hat and gloves. The two gentlemen went towards the door.

“If only his name were not Schmidt,” said the Count, standing still.

“What a strange mania! all great men are afflicted with something of the sort!⁠—After you, Count Golm.”

“Not at all! I am at home here!”

And the gentlemen left the room.

XV

Philip walked impatiently up and down his study, then seated himself at his writing-table, touched the spring of a secret drawer, and took out the Councillor’s note, really only to assure himself that he had not mistaken the hour, but then as he had the letter in his hand, besides having nothing to do, he read it through as carefully as if it were for the first time:

“My Dear Friend,

“The Count is of the greatest importance to us, though you seem always to have underrated him. The fact of his being over head and ears in debt is in my eyes only one more chance for us⁠—we shall get him all the cheaper; and have him we must. The loss caused by Prince Prora’s positive refusal to be one of the promoters, and taking part only as an ordinary shareholder, can only be met by the Count’s siding with us. We must positively have a noble name to support us. You do not understand the insular feelings. The bellwether must first jump over, and then, of course, the whole flock follow. You must provide a bait for the bellwether; that is to say, in figures: you or Lübbener must advance fifty thousand thalers, which I know he is in great need of; then a promise of a tolerably big lump in case the Eastern Railway comes to anything⁠—a case which is almost impossible; thirdly, to balance the fifty thousand and the