The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse | Page 8

of the Landsturm was there to formulate their mute protest.
"Return!" he said in a voice almost extinguished by the sudden swelling
of his neck. "We have nothing to return, for we have taken nothing.
That which we possess, we acquire by our heroism."
The hidden knee with its agreeable friction made itself more
insinuating, as though counselling the youth to greater prudence.
"Do not say such things," breathed Bertha, "thus only the republicans,
corrupted by Paris, talk. A youth so distinguished who has been in
Berlin, and has relatives in Germany!" . . .
But Desnoyers felt a hereditary impulse of aggressiveness before each
of her husband's statements, enunciated in haughty tones, and
responded coldly:--
"It is as if I should take your watch and then propose that we should be
friends, forgetting the occurrence. Although you might forget, the first
thing for me to do would be to return the watch."
Counsellor Erckmann wished to retort with so many things at once that
he stuttered horribly, leaping from one idea to the other. To compare
the reconquest of Alsace to a robbery. A German country! The race . . .
the language . . . the history! . . .
"But when did they announce their wish to be German?" asked the
youth without losing his calmness. "When have you consulted their
opinion?"
The Counsellor hesitated, not knowing whether to argue with this
insolent fellow or crush him with his scorn.

"Young man, you do not know what you are talking about," he finally
blustered with withering contempt. "You are an Argentinian and do not
understand the affairs of Europe."
And the others agreed, suddenly repudiating the citizenship which they
had attributed to him a little while before. The Counsellor, with
military rudeness, brusquely turned his back upon him, and taking up
the pack, distributed the cards. The game was renewed. Desnoyers,
seeing himself isolated by the scornful silence, felt greatly tempted to
break up the playing by violence; but the hidden knee continued
counselling self-control, and an invisible hand had sought his right,
pressing it sweetly. That was enough to make him recover his serenity.
The Counsellor's Lady seemed to be absorbed in the progress of the
game. He also looked on, a malignant smile contracting slightly the
lines of his mouth as he was mentally ejaculating by way of consolation,
"Captain, Captain! . . . You little know what is awaiting you!"
On terra firma, he would never again have approached these men; but
life on a transatlantic liner, with its inevitable promiscuousness, obliges
forgetfulness. The following day the Counsellor and his friends came in
search of him, flattering his sensibilities by erasing every irritating
memory. He was a distinguished youth belonging to a wealthy family,
and all of them had shops and business in his country. The only thing
was that he should be careful not to mention his French origin. He was
an Argentinian; and thereupon, the entire chorus interested itself in the
grandeur of his country and all the nations of South America where
they had agencies or investments--exaggerating its importance as
though its petty republics were great powers, commenting with gravity
upon the deeds and words of its political leaders and giving him to
understand that in Germany there was no one who was not concerned
about the future of South America, predicting for all its divisions most
glorious prosperity--a reflex of the Empire, always, provided, of course,
that they kept under Germanic influence.
In spite of these flatteries, Desnoyers was no longer presenting himself
with his former assiduity at the hour of poker. The Counsellor's wife
was retiring to her stateroom earlier than usual-- their approach to the

Equator inducing such an irresistible desire for sleep, that she had to
abandon her husband to his card playing. Julio also had mysterious
occupations which prevented his appearance on deck until after
midnight. With the precipitation of a man who desires to be seen in
order to avoid suspicion, he was accustomed to enter the smoking room
talking loudly as he seated himself near the husband and his boon
companions.
The game had ended, and an orgy of beer and fat cigars from Hamburg
was celebrating the success of the winners. It was the hour of Teutonic
expansion, of intimacy among men, of heavy, sluggish jokes, of
off-color stories. The Counsellor was presiding with much majesty over
the diableries of his chums, prudent business men from the Hanseatic
ports who had big accounts in the Deutsche Bank or were shopkeepers
installed in the republic of the La Plata, with an innumerable family. He
was a warrior, a captain, and on applauding every heavy jest with a
laugh that distended his fat neck, he fancied that he was among his
comrades at arms.
In honor of