Hobohemians

36“I came to meet a friend of mine, an Englishman who was at Konstanz. He had told me he was going on to Mannheim. When I got to Konstanz I found he was in Switzerland, but I had to come on since I asked for money to be forwarded here.”

37“Why couldn’t you write and have it sent to you?”

38“I couldn’t wait. When I was in Konstanz I was robbed of ten pounds. A man stopped me as I was going into a bank. He said he could get 21 marks to the pound instead of 19.5. I gave him nearly all my money and he never came back.”

39A malicious eye cocked itself over a ledger. A prostitute exclaimed loudly: “Oh, the poor fellow.” Questioner blunted an incredulous eye: “So you’ll have money here in Mannheim?”

40“Yes, it must be waiting for me. When does the post office open?”

41“At eight. Why didn’t you go to-day?”

42“I only got here on the ten o’clock from Heidelberg.”

43“Good. You can go. Here, take your papers.”

44Ali bowed to sergeant, clerks, girls. If these are the Mannheim girls without the price of a bed, what are the others like! Wish Willy were here, what a time—At the door: “When does your semester begin at Berlin?”

45“In another four weeks.”

46“Better start walking back now then.”

47“I shall go first class.”

48“It is still further to your homeland. When are you going to kick out the English?”

49“As soon as we get enough rifles from Germany.”

50“Good. Our good wishes to Gandhi.”

51“Gandhi,” thought Muslim Ali. “Shows what these cowards know of India. Why don’t they kick out the French?”

52A girl was released at the same time. Everyone released. Merely gratifying their occidental curiosity and passing the police night pleasantly. It would be a good thing to make Willy a police clerk. He could issue his notebook once a year as a complete novel, like all these western scribblers. Ali and the girl walked about till the post office opened.

* * *

53At the moment Ali with disappointment thankfully extracted two pound notes from an envelope in Mannheim post office and decided it would be safer to make for Paris, three men sat down in a windowless room in Budapest. One put a portfolio on the table, unlocked it and removed an envelope: “There is your ticket to Paris, passport in order under agreed name, money for two weeks. You must go to-morrow. That is all we can do for you, comrade. We go into hiding to-night. Don’t write to us. You may be able to get work in a factory. You are a clever artist.”—A right hand with one finger missing picked up the envelope. The men stood up. Servus [goodbye].

* * *

54Heinke stopped in a doorway, loud ringing in his ears. In the fourflush dawn on the Locarno road Viktor was saying: “If only that gigolo Heinke has rushed some money out of one of his women and sent some to Ascona.”

55Heinke swayed clutching a door a few thousand doorways along the Friedrichstrasse. Every step he took brought a pain into his chest and a stab against his heart. He could barely walk. He couldn’t be more than halfway along to Belle Allianz Platz, bed and illness. He would have to be ill, everything was over.