The Stoker Amerika

As Karl Rossmann, a poor boy of sixteen who had been packed off to America by his parents because a servant girl had seduced him and got herself with child by him, stood on the liner slowly entering the harbour of New York, a sudden burst of sunshine seemed to illumine the Statue of Liberty, so that he saw it in a new light, although he had sighted it long before. The arm with the sword rose up as if newly stretched aloft, and round the figure blew the free winds of heaven.

‘So high F he said to himself, and was gradually edged to the very rail by the swelling throng of porters pushing past him, since he was not thinking at all of getting off the ship.

A young man with whom he had struck up a slight acquaintance on the voyage called out in passing : ‘Not very anxious to go ashore, are you?’ ‘Oh, I'm quite ready,' said Karl with a laugh, and being both strong and in high spirits he heaved his box on to his shoulder. But as his eye followed his acquaintance, who was already moving on among the others, lightly swinging a walking-stick, he realized with dismay that he had forgotten his umbrella down below. He hastily begged his acquaintance, who did not seem particularly gratified, to oblige him by waiting beside the box for a minute, took another survey of the situation to get his bearings for the return journey, and harried away. Below decks he found to his disappointment that a gangway which made a handy short-cut had been barred for the first time in his experience, probably in connexion with the disembarkation of so many passengers, and he had painfully to find his way

down endlessly recurring stairs, through corridors with countless turnings, through an empty room with a deserted writing-table, until in the end, since he had taken this route no more than once or twice and always among a crowd of other people, he lost himself completely. In his bewilderment, meeting no one and hearing nothing but the ceaseless shuffling of thousands of feet above him, and in the distance, like faint breathing, the last throbbings of the engines, which had already been shut off, he began unthinkingly to hammer on a little door by which he had chanced to stop in his wanderings.

It isn't locked/ a voice shouted from inside, and Karl opened the door with genuine relief. ‘What are you hammering at the door for, like a madman?' asked a huge man, scarcely even glancing at Karl. Through an opening of some kind a feeble glimmer of daylight, all that was left after the top decks had used it up, fell into the wretched cubby-hole in which a bunk, a cupboard, a chair and the man were packed together, as if they had been stored there. I've lost my way,' said Karl. ‘I never noticed it during the voyage, but this is a terribly big ship/ ‘Yes, you’re right there,' said the man with a certain pride, fiddling all the time with the lock of a little sea-chest, which he kept pressing with both hands in the hope of hearing the wards snap home. ‘But come inside,' he went on, ‘you don’t want to stand out there ! ’ ‘I’m not disturbing you?’ asked Karl. ‘Why, how should you disturb me?’ ‘Are you a German?’ Karl asked to reassure himself further, for he had heard a great deal about the perils which threatened newcomers to America, particularly from the Irish. ‘That’s what I am, yes,' said the man. Karl still hesitated. Then the man suddenly seized the door handle and pulling the door shut with a hasty movement swept Karl into the cabin.

‘I can’t stand being stared at from the passage,' he said, beginning to fiddle with his chest again, ‘people keep passing and staring in, it’s more than a man can bear.’ ‘But the

passage is quite empty,' said Karl, who was standing squeezed uncomfortably against the end of the bunk. ‘Yes, now,' said the man. ‘But it’s now we were speaking about,' thought Karl, ‘it’s hard work talking to this man/ ‘Lie down on the bunk, you’ll have more room there,' said the man. Karl scrambled in as well as he could, and laughed aloud at his first unsuccessful attempt to swing himself over. But scarcely was he in the bunk when he cried: ‘Good Lord, I’ve quite forgotten my box !’ ‘Why, where is it?’ ‘Up on deck, a man I know is looking after it. What’s his name again?’ And he fished a visiting-card from a pocket which his mother had made in the lining of his coat for the voyage. ‘Butterbaum, Franz Butterbaum.’ ‘Can’t you do without your box?’ ‘Of course not.’ ‘Well, then, why did you leave it in a stranger’s hands?’ 'I forgot my umbrella down below and rushed off to get it; I didn’t want to drag my box with me. Then on top of that I got lost.’ ‘You’re all alone? Without anyone to look after you?’ ‘Yes, all alone.’ ‘Perhaps I should join up with this man,' the thought came into Karl’s head, ‘where am I likely to find a better friend?’ ‘And now you’ve lost the box as well. Not to mention the umbrella,' And the man sat down on the chair as if Karl’s business had at last acquired some interest for him. ‘But I think my box can’t be lost yet.’ ‘You can think what you like,’ said the man, vigorously scratching his dark, short, thick hair. ‘But morals change every time you come to a new port. In Hamburg your Butterbaum might maybe have looked after your box; while 'here it’s most likely that they’ye both disappeared.’ ‘But then I must go up and see about it at once,’ said Karl, looking round for the way out. ‘You just stay where you are,' said the man, giving him a push with one hand on the chest, quite roughly, so that he fell back on the bunk again. ‘But why?’ asked Karl in exasperation. ‘Because there’s no point in it,' said the man, ‘I’m leaving too very soon, and we can go together. Either the box is stolen and then there’s no help for it, or the man has left it standing where it was, and then we’ll find it all the

more easily when the ship is empty. And the same with your umbrella.' ‘Do you know your way about the ship?’ asked Karl suspiciously, and it seemed to him that the idea, otherwise plausible, that his things would be easier to find when the ship was empty must have a catch in it somewhere. ‘Why, I’m a stoker,’ said the man. ‘You’re a stoker!' cried Karl delightedly, as if this surpassed all his expectations, and he rose up on his elbow to look at the man more closely. ‘Just outside the room where I slept with the Slovaks there was a little window through which we could see into the engineroom.' ‘Yes, that’s where I’ve been working,’ said the stoker. ‘I have always had a passion for machinery,’ said Karl, following his own train of thought, ‘and I would have become an engineer in time, that’s certain, if I hadn’t had to go to America.’ ‘Why did you have to go?’ ‘Oh, that !’ said Karl, dismissing the whole business with a wave of the hand. He looked with a smile at the stoker, as if begging his indulgence for not telling. ‘There was some reason for it, I suppose,’ said the stoker, and it was hard to tell whether in saying that he wanted to encourage or discourage Karl to tell. ‘I could be a stoker now too,’ said Karl, ‘it’s all one now to my father and mother what becomes of me.’ ‘My job’s going to be free,’ said the stoker, and to point his full consciousness of it, he stuck his hands into his trouser pockets and flung his legs in their baggy, leather-like trousers on the bunk to stretch them. Karl had to shift nearer to the wall. ‘Are you leaving the ship?’ ‘Yes, we’re paid off today.’ ‘But why? Don’t you like it?’ ‘Oh, that’s the way things are run; it doesn’t always depend on whether a man likes it or not. But you’re quite right, I don’t like it. I don’t suppose you’re thinking seriously of being a stoker, but that’s just the time when you’re most likely to turn into one. So I advise you strongly against it. If you wanted to study engineering in Europe, why shouldn’t you study it here? The American universities are ever so much better than the European ones.’ ‘That’s possible,’ said Karl, ‘but I have hardly any money to study on. I’ve read of

someone who worked all day in a shop and studied at night until he became a doctor, and a mayor, too, I think, but that needs a lot of perseverance, doesn't it? I'm afraid I haven't got that. Besides, I wasn't a particularly good scholar; it was no great wrench for me to leave school. And maybe the schools here are more difficult. I can hardly speak any English at all. Anyhow, people here have a prejudice against foreigners, I think.' ‘So you’ve come up against that kind of thing too, have you? Well, that's all to the good. You're the man for me. See here, this is a German ship we’re on, it belongs to the Hamburg- American Line; so why aren’t the crew all Germans, I ask you? Why is the Chief Engineer a Roumanian? A man called Schubal. It's hard to believe it. A measly hound like that slave-driving us Germans on a German ship ! You mustn’t think' - here his voice failed him and he gesticulated with his hands - ‘that I’m complaining for the sake of complaining. I know you have no influence and that you’re a poor lad yourself. But it's too much !’ And he brought his fist several times down on the table, never taking his eyes from it while he flourished it. ‘I’ve signed on in ever so many ships' - and he reeled off twenty names one after the other as if they were one word, which quite confused Karl - ‘and I've done good work in all of them, been praised, pleased every captain I ever had, actually stuck to the same cargo boat for several years, I did’ - he rose to his feet as if that had been the greatest achievement of his life - ‘and here on this tub, where everything’s done by rule and you don’t need any wits at all, here I’m no good, here I’m just in Schubal’s way, here I’m a slacker who should be kicked out and doesn't begin to earn his pay. Can you understand that? I can’t.' ‘Don’t you put up with it !' said Karl excitedly. He had almost lost the feeling that he was on the uncertain boards of a ship, beside the coast of an unknown continent, so much at home did he feel here in the stoker’s bunk. ‘Have you seen the Captain about it? Have you asked him to give you your rights?’ ‘Oh, get away with you, out you get, I

don’t want you here. You don’t listen to what I say, and then you give me advice. How could I go to the Captain?’ Wearily the stoker sat down again and hid his face in his hands.

‘I can’t give him any better advice/ Karl told himself. And it occurred to him that he would have done better to go and get his box instead of handing out advice that was merely regarded as stupid. When his father had given him the box for good he had said in jest: ‘How long will you keep it?’ and now that faithful box had perhaps been lost in earnest. His sole remaining consolation was that his father could hardly learn of his present situation, even if he were to inquire. All that the shipping company could say was that he had safely reached New York. But Karl felt sorry to think that he had hardly used the things in the box yet, although, to take an instance, he should long since have changed his shirt. So his economies had started at the wrong point, it seemed; now, at the very beginning of his career, when it was essential to show himself in clean clothes, he would have to appear in a dirty shirt. Otherwise the loss of the box would not have been so serious, for the suit which he was wearing was actually better than the one in the box, which in reality was merely an emergency suit that his mother had hastily mended just before he left. Then he remembered that in the box there was a piece of Veronese salami which his mother had packed as an extra tit-bit, only he had not been able to eat more than a scrap of it, for during the voyage he had been quite without any appetite, and the soup which was served in the steerage had been more than sufficient for him. But now he would have liked to have the salami at hand, so as to present it to the stoker. For such people were easily won over by the gift of some trifle or other; Karl had learned that from his father, who deposited cigars in the pockets of the subordinate officials with whom he did business, and so won them over. Yet all that Karl now possessed in the way of gifts was his money, and he did not want to touch that

for the time being, in case he should have lost his box. Again his thoughts turned back to the box, and he simply could not understand why he should have watched it during the voyage so vigilantly that he had almost lost his sleep over it, only to let that same box be filched from him so easily now. He remembered the five nights during which he had kept a suspicious eye on a little Slovak whose bunk was two places away from him on the left, and who had designs, he was sure, on the box. This Slovak was merely waiting for Karl to be overcome by sleep and doze off for a minute, so that he might manoeuvre the box away with a long, pointed stick which he was always playing or practising with during the day. By day the Slovak looked innocent enough, but hardly did night come on than he kept rising up from his bunk to cast melancholy glances, at Karl’s box. Karl had seen this quite clearly, for every now and then someone would light a little candle, although it was forbidden by the ship’s regulations, and with the anxiety of the emigrant would peer into some incomprehensible prospectus of an emigration agency. If one of these candles was burning near him, Karl could doze off for a little, but if it was farther away or if the place was quite dark, he had to keep his eyes open. The strain of this task had quite exhausted him, and now perhaps it had all been in vain. Oh, that Butterbaum, if ever he met him again !

At that moment, in the distance, the unbroken silence was disturbed by a series of small, short taps) like the tapping of children’s feet; they came nearer, growing louder, until they sounded like the tread of quietly marching men. Men in single file, as was natural in the narrow passage, and a clashing as of arms could be heard. Karl, who had been on the point of relaxing himself in a sleep free of all worries about boxes and Slovaks, started up and nudged the stoker to draw his attention, for the head of the procession seemed just to have reached the door. ‘That’s the ship’s band,’ said the stoker, ‘they’ve been playing up above and have come back to pack

up. All’s clear now, and we can go. Come ' He took Karl by the hand, snatched at the last moment a framed picture of the Madonna from the wall above the bed, stuck it into his breast pocket, seized his chest, and with Karl hastily left the cubby-hole.

I'm going to the office now to give them a piece of my mind. All the passengers are gone; I don’t need to care what I do.’ The stoker kept repeating this theme with variations, and as he walked on kicked out his foot sideways at a rat which crossed his way, but merely drove it more quickly into its hole, which it reached just in time. He was slow in all his movements, for though his legs were long they were massive as well.

They went through part of the kitchen, where some girls in dirty white aprons - which they splashed deliberately - were washing dishes in great tubs. The stoker hailed a girl called Lina, put his arm round her waist, and since she coquettishly resisted the embrace dragged her a part of the way with him. ‘It’s pay-day; aren’t you coming along?’ he asked. ‘Why take the trouble; you can bring me the money here,’ she replied, squirming under his arm and running away. ‘Where did you pick up that good-looking boy?’ she cried after him, but without waiting for an answer. They could hear the laughter of the other girls, who had all stopped their work.

But they went on and came to a door above which there was a little pediment, supported by tiny, gilded caryatides. For a ship’s fitting it looked extravagantly sumptuous. Karl realized that he had never been in this part of the ship, which during the voyage had probably been reserved for passengers of the first and second class; but the doors that cut it off had now been thrown open to prepare for the cleaning down of the ship. Indeed, they had already met some men with brooms on their shoulders, who had greeted the stoker. Karl was amazed at the extent of the ship’s organization; as a steerage passenger he had seen very little of it. Along the

corridors ran wires of electric installations, and a little bell kept sounding every now and then.

The stoker knocked respectfully at the door, and when someone cried ‘Come in!’ urged Karl with a wave of the hand to enter boldly. Karl stepped in, but remained standing beside the door. The three windows of this room framed a view of the sea, and gazing at the cheerful motion of the waves his heart beat faster, as if he had not been looking at the sea without interruption for five long days. Great ships crossed each other’s courses in either direction, yielding to the assault of the waves oniy as far as their ponderous weight permitted them. If one almost shut one’s eyes, these ships seemed to be staggering under their own weight. From their masts flew long, narrow pennants which, though kept taut by the speed of their going, at the same time fluttered a little. Probably from some battleship there could be heard salvoes, fired in salute, and a warship of some kind passed at no great distance; the muzzles of its guns, gleaming with the reflection of sunlight on steel, seemed to be nursed along by the sure, smooth motion, although not on an even keel. Only a distant view of the smaller ships and boats could be had, at least from the door, as they darted about in swarms through the gaps between the great ships. And behind them all rose New York, and its skyscrapers stared at Karl with their hundred thousand eyes. Yes, in this room one realized where one was.

At a round table three gentlemen were sitting, one a ship’s officer in the blue ship’s uniform, the two others harbour officials in black American uniforms. On the table lay piles of various papers, which the officer first glanced over, pen in hand, and then handed to the two others, who read them, made excerpts, and filed them away in portfolios, except when 'they were not actually engaged in taking down some kind of protocol which one of them dictated to his colleagues, making clicking noises with his teeth all the time.

By the first window a little man was sitting at a desk with his back to the door; he was busy with some huge ledgers

ranked on a stout book-shelf on a level with his head. Beside him stood an open safe which, at first glance at least, seemed empty.

The second window was vacant and gave the better view. But near the third two gentlemen were standing conversing in low tones. One of them was leaning against the window; he was wearing the ship's uniform and playing with the hilt of his sword. The man to whom he was speaking faced the window, and now and then a movement of his disclosed part of a row of decorations on the breast of his interlocutor. He was in civilian clothes and carried a thin bamboo cane which, as both his hands were resting on his hips, also stood out like a sword.

Karl did not have much time to see all this, for almost at once an attendant came up to them and asked the stoker, with a glance which seemed to indicate that he had no business here, what he wanted. The stoker replied as softly as he had been asked that he wished to speak to the Head Purser. The attendant made a gesture of refusal with his hand, but all the same tiptoed towards the man with the ledgers, avoiding the round table by a wide detour. The ledger official - this could clearly be seen - stiffened all over at the words of the attendant, but at last turned round towards this man who wished to speak to him and waved him away violently, repudiating the attendant too, to make quite certain. The attendant then sidled back to the stoker and said in the voice of one imparting a confidence : ‘Clear out of here at once ! ’

At this reply the stoker turned his eyes on Karl, as if Karl were his heart, to whom he was silently bewailing his grief. Without stopping to think, Karl launched himself straight across the room, actually brushing against one of the officers' chairs, while the attendant chased after him, swooping with widespread arms as if to catch an insect; but Karl was the first to reach the Head Purser's desk; which he gripped firmly in case the attendant should try to drag him away.

The whole room naturally sprang to life at once. The ship's

officer at the table leapt to his feet; the harbour officials looked on calmly but attentively; the two gentlemen by the window moved closer to each other; the attendant, who thought it was no longer his place to interfere, since his masters were now involved, stepped back. The stoker waited tensely by the door for the moment when his intervention should be required. And the Head Purser at last made a complete rightabout turn in his chair.

From his secret pocket, which he did not mind showing to these people, Karl hauled out his passport/ which he opened and laid on the desk in lieu of further introduction. The Head Purser seemed to consider the passport irrelevant, for he flicked it aside with two fingers, whereupon Karl, as if that formality were satisfactorily settled, put it back in his pocket again. *

‘May I be allowed to say,' he then began, ‘that in my opinion an injustice has been done to my friend the stoker? There’s a certain man Schubal aboard who bullies him. He has a long record of satisfactory service on many ships, whose names he can give you, he is diligent, takes an interest in his work, and it’s really hard to see why on this particular ship, where the work, isn’t so heavy as on cargo boats, for instance, he should get so little credit. It must be sheer slander that keeps him back and robs him of the recognition that should certainly be his. I have confined myself, as you can see, to generalities; he can lay his specific complaints before you himself.’ In saying this Karl had addressed • all the gentlemen present, because in fact they were all listening to him, and because it seemed much more likely that among so many at least one just man might be found, than that the one just man should be the Head Purser. Karl also guilefully concealed the fact that he had known the stoker for such a short time. But he would have made a rrujch better speech had he not been distracted by the red face of the man with the bamboo cane, which was now in his line of vision for the first time.

‘It's all true, every word of it,' said the stoker before anyone even asked him, indeed before anyone so much as looked at him. This over-eagerness on his part might have proved a great mistake if the man with the decorations who, it now dawned on Karl, was of course the Captain, had not clearly made up his mind to hear the case. For he stretched out his hand and called to the stoker: ‘Come here!’ in a voice as firm as a rock. Everything now depended on the stoker’s behaviour, for about the justice of his case Karl had no doubt whatever.

Luckily it appeared at this point that the stoker was a man of some worldly experience. With exemplary composure he drew out of his sea-chest, at the first attempt, a little bundle of papers and a notebook, walked over with them to the Captain as if that were a matter of course, entirely ignoring the Head Purser, and spread out his evidence on the window-ledge. There was nothing for the Head Purser to do but also to come forward. ‘The man is a notorious grumbler,' he said in explanation, ‘he spends more time in the pay-room than in the engine-room. He has driven Schubal, who’s a quiet fellow, to absolute desperation. Listen to me !’ here he turned to the stoker. ‘You’re a great deal too persistent in pushing yourself forward. How often have you been flung out of the pay-room already, and serve you right too, for your impudence in demanding things to which you have no right whatever? How often have you gone running from the pay-room to the Purser’s office? How often has it been patiently explained to you that Schubal is your immediate superior, and that it’s him you have to deal with, and him alone? And now you actually come here, when the Captain himself is present, to pester him with your impudence, and as if that weren’t enough you bring a mouthpiece with you to reel off the absurd grievances you’ve drilled into him, a boy I’ve never even seen on the ship before 1 ’

Karl forcibly restrained himself from springing forward.

But the Captain had already intervened with the remark: ‘Better hear what the man has to say for himself. Schubal's getting a good deal too big for his boots these days, but that doesn't mean I think you’re right.' The last words were addressed to the stoker; it was only natural that the Captain should not take his part at once, yet everything seemed to be going the right way. The stoker began to state his case and controlled himself so far at the very beginning as to call Schubal ‘Mr Schubal'. Standing beside the Head Purser’s vacant desk, Karl felt so pleased that in his delight he kept pressing the letter-scales down with his finger. Mr Schubal was unfair ! Mr Schubal gave the preference to foreigners 1 Mr Schubal ordered the stoker out of the engine-room and made him clean water-closets, which was not a stoker’s job at all ! At one point even the capability of Mr Schubal was called in question, as being more apparent than real. At this point Karl fixed his eyes on the Captain and stared at him with earnest deference, as if they had been colleagues, to keep him from being influenced against the stoker by the man’s awkward way of expressing himself. All the same, nothing definite emerged from the stoker’s outpourings, and although the Captain still listened thoughtfully, his eyes expressing a resolution to hear the stoker this time to the end, the other gentlemen were growing impatient and the stoker’s 'voice no longer dominated the room, which was a bad sign. The gentleman in civilian clothes was the first to show his impatience by bringing his bamboo stick into play and tapping, though only softly, on the floor. The others still looked up now and then; but the two harbour officials, who were clearly pressed for time, snatched up their papers again and began, though somewhat absently, to glance over them; the ship’s officer turned to his desk, and the Head Purser, who now thought he had won the day, heaved a loud ironical sigh. From the general dispeftion of interest the only one who seemed to be exempt was the attendant, who sympathized to some extent with this poor man confronting the

great, and gravely nodded to Karl as though trying to explain something.

Meanwhile, outside the windows, the life of the harbour went on; a flat barge laden with a mountain of barrels, which must have been wonderfully well packed, since they did not roll off, went past, almost completely obscuring the daylight; little motor-boats, which Karl would have liked to examine thoroughly if he had had time, shot straight past in obedience to the slightest touch of the man standing erect at the wheel. Here and there curious objects bobbed independently out of the restless water, were immediately submerged again and sank before his astonished eyes; boats belonging to the ocean liners were rowed past by sweating sailors; they were filled with passengers sitting silent and expectant as if they had been stowed there, except that some of them could not refrain from turning their heads to gaze at the changing scene. A movement without end, a restlessness transmitted from the restless element to helpless human beings and their works !

But everything demanded haste, clarity, exact statement; and what was the stoker doing? Certainly he was talking himself into a sweat; his hands were trembling so much that he could no longer hold the papers he had laid on the windowledge; from all points of the compass complaints about Schubal streamed into his head, each of which, it seemed to him, should have been sufficient to dispose of Schubal for good; but all he could produce for the Captain was a wretched farrago in which everything was lumped together. For a long time the man with the bamboo cane had been staring at the ceiling and whistling to himself; the harbour officials now detained the ship’s officer at their table and showed no sign of ever letting him go again; the Head Purser was clearly restrained from letting fly only by the Captain’s composure; the attendant stood at attention, waiting every moment for the Captain to give an order concerning the stoker.

At that Karl could no longer remain inactive. So he ad-

vanced slowly towards the group, running over in his mind the more rapidly all the ways in which he could most adroitly handle the affair. It was certainly high time; a little longer, and they might quite well both of them be kicked out of the office. The Captain might be a good man and might also, or so it seemed to Karl, have some particular reason at the moment to show that he was a just master; but after all he wasn't a mere instrument to be recklessly played on, and that was exactly how the stoker was treating him in the boundless indignation of his heart.

Accordingly Karl said to the stoker : Tou must put things more simply, more clearly; the Captain can't do justice to what you are telling him. How can he know all the mechanics and ship’s boys by name, far less by their first names, so that when you mention So-and-so he can tell at once who is meant? Take your grievances in order, tell the most important ones first and the lesser ones afterwards; perhaps you’ll find that it won’t be necessary even to mention most of them. You always explained them clearly enough to me !’ If boxes could be stolen in America, one could surely tell a he now and then as well, he thought in self -excuse.

But was his advice of any use? Might it not already be too late? The stoker certainly stopped speaking at once when he heard the familiar voice, but his eyes were so blinded with tears of wounded dignity, of dreadful memory, of extreme present grief, that he could hardly even recognize Karl. How could he at this stage - Karl silently realized this, facing the now silent stoker - how could he at this stage suddenly change his style of argument, when it seemed plain to him that he had already said all there was to say without evoking the slightest sympathy, and at the same time that he had said nothing at all, and could not expect these gentlemen to listen to the whole rigmarole over again? And at such a moment Karl, his sole supporter, had to break in with socalled good advice which merely made it clear that everything was lost, everything.

‘If I had only spoken sooner, instead of looking out of the window/ Karl told himself, dropping his eyes before the stoker and letting his hands fall to his sides as a sign that all hope was ended.

But the stoker mistook the action, feeling, no doubt, that Karl was nursing some secret reproach against him, and, in the honest desire to disabuse him, crowned all his other offences by starting to wrangle at this moment with Karl At this very moment, when the men at the round table were completely exasperated by the senseless babble that disturbed their important labours, when the Head Purser was gradually beginning to find the Captain’s patience incomprehensible and was just on the point of exploding, when the attendant, once more entirely translated to his masters’ sphere, was measuring the stoker with savage eyes, and when, finally, the gentleman with the bamboo cane, whom even the Captain eyed now and then in a friendly manner, already quite bored by the stoker, indeed disgusted at him, had pulled out a little notebook and was obviously preoccupied with quite different thoughts, glancing first at the notebook and then at Karl.

‘I know,’ said Karl, who had difficulty in turning aside the torrent which the stoker now directed at him, but yet could summon up a friendly smile for him in spite of all dissension, ‘that you’re right, you’re right, I have never doubted it.’ In his fear of being struck by the stoker’s gesticulating hands he would have liked to catch hold of them, and still better to force the man into a corner so as to whisper a few soothing, reassuring words to him which no one else could hear. But the stoker was past all bounds. Karl now began actually to take a sort of comfort in the thought that in case of need the stoker could overwhelm the seven men in the room with the very strength of his desperation. But on the desk, as he could see at a glance, there was a bell-arrangement with far too many buttons; the mere pressure of one hand on them would raise the whole ship and call up all the hostile men that filled its passage-ways.

But here, in spite of his air of bored detachment, the gentleman with the bamboo cane came over to Karl and asked, not very loudly yet clearly enough to be heard above the stoker’s ravings: ‘By the way, what’s your name?’ At that moment, as if someone behind the door had been waiting to hear this remark, there was a knock. The attendant looked across at the Captain; the Captain nodded. Thereupon the attendant went to the door and Opened it. Outside was standing a middle-sized man in an old military coat, not looking at all like the kind of person who would attend to machinery - and yet he was Schubal. If Karl had not guessed this from the expression of satisfaction which lit up all eyes, even the Captain’s, he must have recognized it with horror from the demeanour of the stoker, who clenched his fists at the end of his outstretched arms with a vehemence that made the clenching of them seem the most important thing about him, to which he was prepared to sacrifice everything else in life. All his strength was concentrated in his fists, including the very strength that held him upright.

And so here was the enemy, fresh and gay in his shoregoing clothes, a ledger under his arm, probably containing a statement of the hours worked and the wages due to the stoker, and he was openly scanning the faces of everyone present, a frank admission that his first concern was to discover on which side they stood. All seven of them were already his friends, for even though the Captain had raised some objections to him earlier, or had pretended to do so because he felt sorry for the stoker, it was now apparent that he had not the slightest fault to find with Schubal. A man like the stoker could not be too severely repressed, and if Schubal were to be reproached for anything, it was for not having subdued the stoker’s recalcitrance sufficiently, since the fellow had dared to face the Captain after all.

Yet it might still be assumed that the confrontation of Schubal and the stoker would achieve, even before a human tribunal, the result which would have been awarded by divine

justice, since Schubal, even if he were good at making a show of virtue, might easily give himself away in the long run. A brief flare-up of his evil nature would suffice to reveal it to those gentlemen, and Karl would arrange for that. He already had a rough and ready knowledge of the shrewdness, the weaknesses, the temper of the various individuals in the room, and in this respect the time he had spent there had not been wasted. It was a pity that the stoker was not more competent; he seemed quite incapable of decisive action. If one were to thrust Schubal at him, he would probably split the man's hated skull with his fists. But it was beyond his power to take the couple of steps needed to bring Schubal within reach. Why had Karl not foreseen what so easily could have been foreseen: that Schubal would inevitably put in an appearance, if not of his own accord, then by order of the Captain? Why had he not outlined an exact plan of campaign with the stoker when they were on their way here, instead of simply walking in, hopelessly unprepared, as soon as they found a door, which was what they had done? Was the stoker even capable of saying a word by this time, of answering yes and no, as he must do if he were now to be cross-examined, although, to be sure, a cross-examination was almost too much to hope for? There he stood, his legs a-sprawl, his knees uncertain, his head thrown back, and the air flowed in and out of his open mouth as if the man had no lungs to control its motion.

But Karl himself felt more strong and clear-headed than perhaps he had ever been at home. If only his father and mother could see him now, fighting for justice in a strange land before men of authority, and, though not yet triumphant, dauntlessly resolved to win the final victory ! Would they revise their opinion of him? Set him between them and praise him? Look into his eyes at last, at last, those eyes so filled with devotion to them ? Ambiguous questions, and this the most unsuitable moment to ask them !

1 have come here because I believe this stoker is accusing

me of dishonesty or something. A maid in the kitchen told me she saw him making in this direction. Captain, and all you other gentlemen, I am prepared to show papers to disprove any such accusation, and, if you like, to adduce the evidence of unprejudiced and incorruptible witnesses, who are waiting outside the door now.’ Thus spake Schuhal. It was, to be sure, a clear and manly statement, and from the altered expression of the listeners one might have thought they were hearing a human voice for the first time after a long interval. They certainly did not notice the holes that could be picked in that fine speech. Why, for instance, had the first relevant word that occurred to him been ‘dishonesty’? Should he have been accused of that, perhaps instead of nationalistic prejudice? A maid in the kitchen had seen the stoker on his way to the office, and Schubal had immediately divined what that meant? Wasn’t it his consciousness of guilt that had sharpened his apprehension ? And he had immediately collected witnesses, had he, and then called them unprejudiced and incorruptible to boot? Imposture, nothing but imposture ! And these gentlemen were not only taken in by it, but regarded it with approval? Why had he allowed so much time to elapse between the kitchenmaid’s report and his arrival here? Simply in order to let the stoker weary the gentlemen, until they began to lose their powers of clear judgement, which Schubal feared most of all. Standing for a long time behind the door, as he must have done, had he deliberately refrained from knocking until he heard the casual question of the gentletnan with the bamboo cane, which gave him grounds to hope that the stoker was already despatched?

Everything was clear enough now and Schubal’s very behaviour involuntarily corroborated it, but it would have to be proved to those gentlemen by other and still more palpable means. They must be shaken up. Now then, Karl, quick, make the best of every minute you have, before the witnesses come in and confuse everything I

At that very moment, however, the Captain waved Schubal away, and at once - seeing that his case seemed to be provisionaliy postponed - he stepped aside and was joined by the attendant, with whom he began a whispered conversation involving many side glances at the stoker and Karl, as well as the most impressive gestures. It was as if Schubal were rehearsing his next fine speech.

‘Didn’t you want to ask this youngster something, Mr Jacob ? ' the Captain said in the general silence to the gentleman with the bamboo cane.

‘Why, yes,’ replied the other, with a slight bow in acknow. ledgement of the Captain’s courtesy. And he asked Karl again: ‘What is your name?’

Karl, who thought that his main business would be best served by satisfying his stubborn questioner as quickly as possible, replied briefly, without, as was his custom, introducing himself by means of his passport, which he would have had to tug out of his pocket : ‘Karl Rossmann.’

‘But really!’ said the gentleman who had been addressed as Jacob, recoiling with an almost incredulous smile. The Captain too, the Head Purser, the ship’s officer, even the attendant, all showed an excessive astonishment on hearing Karl’s name. Only the Harbour Officials and Schubal remained indifferent.

‘But really!’ repeated Mr Jacob, walking a little stiffly up to Karl, ‘then I’m your Uncle Jacob and you’re my own dear nephew. I suspected it all the time ! ’ he said to the Captain before embracing and kissing Karl, who dumbly submitted to everything.

‘And what may your name be?’ asked Karl when he felt himself released again, very courteously, but quite coolly, trying hard to estimate the consequences which this new development might have for the stoker. At the moment, there was nothing to indicate that Schubal could extract any advantage out of it.

‘But don’t you understand your good fortune, young 3*

man?’ said the Captain, who thought that Mr Jacob was wounded in his dignity by Karl’s question, for he had retired to the window, obviously to conceal from the others the agitation on his face, which he also kept dabbing with a handkerchief. ‘It is Senator Edward Jacob who has just declared himself to be, your uncle. You have now a brilliant career in front of you, against all your previous expectations, I dare say. Try to realize this, as far as you can in the first shock of the moment, and pull yourself together ! ’

‘I certainly have an Uncle Jacob in America,' said Karl, turning to the Captain, ‘but if I understand rightly, Jacob is only the surname of this gentleman.’

‘That is so/.said the Captain, encouragingly.

‘Well, my Uncle Jacob, who is my mother’s brother, had Jacob for a Christian name, but his surname must of course be the same as my mother’s, whose maiden name was Bendelmayer/

‘Gentlemen!’ cried the Senator, coming forward in response to Karl’s explanation, quite cheerful now after his recuperative retreat to the window. Everyone except the Harbour Officials laughed a little, some as if really touched, others for no visible reason.

‘Yet what I said wasn’t so ridiculous as all that,' thought Karl.

‘Gentlemen/ repeated the Senator, ‘you are involved against my will and your own in a little family scene, and so I can’t but give you an explanation, since, I fancy, no one but the Captain here’ - this reference was followed by a reciprocal bow - ‘is fully informed of the circumstances.’

‘Now I must really attend to every word/ Karl told himself, and glancing over his shoulder he was delighted to see that life was beginning to return to the figure of the stoker.

‘For the many years of my sojourn in America - though sojourn is hardly the right word to* use of an American citizen, and I am an American citizen from my very heart - for all these many years, then, I have lived completely cut

off from my relatives in Europe, for reasons which, in the first place, do not concern us here, and in the second, would really give me too much pain to relate. I actually dread the moment when I may be forced to explain them to my dear nephew, for some frank criticisms of his parents and their friends will be unavoidable. I’m afraid/

‘It is my uncle, no doubt about it/ Karl told himself, listening eagerly, ‘he must have had his name changed/

‘Now, my dear nephew has simply been turned out - we may as well call a spade a spade - has simply been turned out by his parents, just as you turn a cat out of the house when it annoys you. I have no intention of extenuating what my nephew did to merit that punishment, yet his transgression was of a kind that merely needs to be named to find indulgence/

‘That's not too bad,' thought Karl, ‘but I hope he won’t tell the whole story. Anyhow, he can’t know much about it. Who would tell him V

‘For he was/ Uncle Jacob went on, rocking himself a little on the bamboo cane which was braced in front of him, a gesture that actually succeeded in deprecating any unnecessary solemnity which otherwise must have characterized his statement, ‘for he was seduced by a maidservant, Johanna Brummer, a person of round about thirty-five. It is far from my wishes to offend my nephew by using the word “seduced”, but it is difficult to find another and equally suitable word.’

Karl, who had moved up quite close to his uncle, turned round to read from the gentlemen’s faces, the impression the story had made. None of them laughed, all were listening patiently and seriously. After all, one did not laugh at the nephew of a Senator on the first possible opportunity. It was rather the stoker who now smiled at Karl, though very faintly, but that was satisfactory in the first place, as a sign of reviving life, and excusable in the second place, since in the stoker’s bunk Karl had tried to make an impenetrable

mystery of this very story which was now being made so public.

‘Now this Brummer/ Uncle Jacob went on, ‘had a child by my nephew, a healthy boy, who was given the baptismal name of Jacob, evidently in memory of my unworthy self, since my nephew's doubtless quite casual references to me had managed to make a deep impression on the woman. Fortunately, let me add. For the boy’s parents, to avoid alimony or being personally involved in any scandal - I must insist that I know neither how the law stands in their district nor their general circumstances - to avoid the scandal, then, and the payment of alimony, they packed off their son, my dear nephew, to America, shamefully unprovided-for, as you can see, and the poor lad, but for the signs and wonders which still happen in America if nowhere else, would have come to a wretched end in New York, being thrown entirely on his own resources, if this servant girl hadn’t written a letter to me, which after long delays reached me the day before yesterday, giving me the whole story, along with a description of my nephew and, very wisely, the name of the ship as well. If I were setting out to entertain you, gentlemen, I could read a few passages to you from this letter’ - he pulled out and flourished before them two huge, closely written sheets of letter-paper. ‘You would certainly be interested, for the letter is written with somewhat simple but well-meant cunning and with much loving care for the father of the child. But I have no intention either of entertaining you for longer than my explanation needs, or of wounding at the very start the perhaps still sensitive feelings of my nephew, who if he likes can read the letter for his own instruction in the seclusion of the room already waiting for him/

But Karl had no feelings for Johanna Brummer. Hemmed in by a vanishing past, she sat in her kitchen beside the kitchen dresser, resting her elbows %on top of it. She looked at him whenever he came to the kitchen to fetch a glass of water for his father or do some errand for his mother.

Sometimes, awkwardly sitting sideways at the dresser, she would write a letter, drawing her inspiration from Karl’s face. Sometimes she would sit with her hand over her eyes, heeding nothing that was said to her. Sometimes she would kneel in her tiny room next the kitchen and pray to a wooden crucifix; then Karl would feel shy if he passed by and caught a glimpse of her through the crack of the slightly open door. Sometimes she would bustle about her kitchen and recoil, laughing like a witch, if Karl came near her. Sometimes she would shut the kitchen door after Karl entered, and keep hold of the door-handle until he had to beg to be let out. Sometimes she would bring him things which he did not want and press them silently into his hand. And once she called him ‘Karl’ and, while he was still dumbfounded at this unusual familiarity, led him into her room, sighing and grimacing, and locked the door. Then she flung her arms round his neck, almost choking him, and while urging him to take off her clothes, she really took off his and laid him on her bed, as if she would never give him up to anyone and would tend and cherish him to the end of time. ‘Oh Karl, my Karl ! ’ she cried; it was as if her eyes were devouring him, while his eyes saw nothing at all and he felt uncomfortable in all the warm bedclothes which she seemed to have piled up for him alone. Then she lay down by him and wanted some secret from him, but he could tell her none, and she showed anger, either in jest or in earnest, shook him, listened to his heart, offered her breast that he might listen to hers in turn, but could not bring him to do it, pressed her naked belly against his body, felt with her hand between his legs, so disgustingly that his head and neck started up from the pillows, then thrust her body several times against him - it was as if she were part of himself, and for that reason, perhaps, he was seized with a terrible feeling of yearning. With the tears running down his cheeks he reached his own bed at last, after many entreaties from her to come again. That was all that had happened, and yet

his uncle had managed to make a great song out of it. And it seemed the cook had also been thinking about him and had informed his uncle of his arrival. That had been very good of her and he would make some return for it later, if he could.

‘And now/ cried, the Senator, T want you to tell me candidly whether I am your uncle or not ? ’

Tou are my uncle,' said Karl, kissing his hand and receiving a kiss on the brow. I'm very glad to have found you, but you’re mistaken if you think my father and mother never speak kindly of you. In any case, you’ve got some points quite wrong in your story; I mean that it didn’t all happen like that in reality. But you can’t really be expected to understand things at such a distance, and I fancy it won’t do any great harm if these gentlemen are somewhat incorrectly informed about the details of an affair which can’t have much interest for them/

‘Well spoken,' said the Senator, leading Karl up to the Captain, who was visibly sympathetic, and asking : ‘Haven’t I a splendid nephew?’

‘I am delighted,' said the Captain, making a bow which showed his military training, ‘to have met your nephew, Mr Senator. My ship is highly honoured in providing the scene for such a reunion. But the voyage in the steerage must have been very unpleasant, for we have, of course, all kinds of people travelling steerage. We do everything possible to make conditions tolerable, far more, for instance, than the American lines do, but to turn such a passage into pleasure is more than we’ve been. able to manage yet/

‘It did me no harm,' said Karl.

‘It did him no harm!’ repeated the Senator, laughing loudly.

‘Except that I’m afraid I’ve lost my box and with that he remembered all that, had happened and all that remained to be done, and he looked round him and saw the others still in the same places, silent with respect and surprise, their

eyes fixed upon him. Only the Harbour Officials, in so far as their severe, self-satisfied faces were legible, betrayed some regret at having come at such an unpropitious time, and the watch which they had laid on the table before them was probably more important to them than everything that had happened in the room or might still happen there.

The first to express his sympathy, after the Captain, was curiously enough the stoker. T congratulate you heartily,' he said, and shook Karl's hand, making the gesture a token of something like gratitude. Yet when he turned to the Senator with the same words the Senator drew back, as if the stoker were exceeding his rights; and the stoker immediately retreated.

But the others now saw what should be done and at once pressed in a confused throng round Karl and the Senator. So it happened that Karl actually received Schubal's congratulations, accepted them and thanked him for them. The last to advance in the ensuing lull were the Harbour Officials, who said two words in English, which made a ludicrous impression.

The Senator now felt moved to extract the last ounce of enjoyment from the situation by refreshing his own and the other’s minds with the less important details, and this was not merely tolerated but of course welcomed with interest by everyone. So he told them that he had entered in his notebook, for consultation in a possible emergency, his nephew’s most distinctive characteristics as enumerated by the cook in her letter. Bored by the stoker’s ravings, he had pulled out the notebook simply to distract himself, and had begun for his own amusement to compare the cook’s descriptions, which were not so exact as a detective might wish, with Karl’s appearance. ‘And that’s how to find a nephew ! ’ he concluded proudly, as if he wanted to be congratulated all over again.

‘What will happen to the stoker now?’ asked Karl, ignoring his uncle’s last remarks. In his new circumstances

he thought he was entitled to say whatever came into his mind.

/The stoker will get what he deserves,' said the Senator, 'and what the Captain considers to be right. I think we have had enough and more than enough of the stoker, a view in which every gentleman here will certainly concur/

‘But that's not the point in a question of justice,' said Karl. He was standing between his uncle and the Captain, and, perhaps influenced by his position, thought that he was holding the balance between them.

And yet the stoker seemed to have abandoned hope. His hands were half stuck into the belt of his trousers, which together with a strip of checked shirt had come prominently into view during his excited tirade. That did not worry him in the least; he had displayed the misery of his heart, now they might as well see the rags that covered his body, and then they could thrust him out. He had decided that the attendant and Schubal, as the two least important men in the room, should do him that last kindness. Schubal would have peace then and no longer be driven to desperation, as the Head Purser had put it. The Captain could take on crowds of Roumanians; Roumanian would be spoken all over the ship; and then perhaps things would really be all right. There would be no stoker pestering the head office any more with his ravings, yet his last effort would be held in almost friendly memory, since, as the Senator expressly declared, it had been the direct cause of his recognizing his nephew. The nephew himself had several times tried to help him already and so had more than repaid him beforehand for his services in the recognition scene; it did not even occur to the stoker to ask anything else from him now. Besides, even if he were the nephew of a senator, he was far from being a captain yet, and* it was from the mouth of the Captain that the stern verdict would fall. And thinking ^11 this, the stoker did his best not to look at Karl, though unfortunately in that roomful of enemies there was no other resting-place for his eyes.

‘Don’t mistake the situation,' said the Senator to Karl, ‘this may be a question of justice, but at the same time it’s a question of discipline. On this ship both of these, and most especially the latter, are entirely within the discretion of the Captain/

‘That’s right/ muttered the stoker. Those who heard him and understood smiled uneasily.

‘But we have already obstructed the Captain far too long in his official duties, which must be piling up considerably now that he has reached New York, and it’s high time we left the ship, instead of adding to our sins by interfering quite unnecessarily in this petty quarrel between two mechanics and so making it a matter of importance. I understand your attitude perfectly, my dear nephew, but that very fact justifies me in hurrying you away from here immediately/

‘I shall have a boat lowered for you at once,' said the Captain, without deprecating in the least the Senator’s words, to Karl’s great surprise, since his uncle could be said to have humbled himself. The Head Purser rushed hastily to his desk and telephoned the Captain’s order to the bos’un. ‘There’s hardly any time left,’ Karl told himself, ‘but I can’t do anything without offending everybody. I really can’t desert my uncle now, just when he’s found me. The Captain is certainly polite, but that’s all. In matters of discipline his politeness fades out. And my uncle certainly meant what he said. I don’t want to speak to Schubal; I’m sorry that I even shook hands with him. And the other people here are of no consequence/

Thinking these things he slowly went over to the stoker, pulled the man’s right hand out of his belt and held it gently in his.

‘Why don’t you say something?’ he asked. ‘Why do you put up with everything?’

The stoker merely knitted his brows, as if he were seeking some formula for what he had to say. While doing this he looked down at his own hand and Karl's.

'You’ve been unjustly treated, more than anyone else on this ship; I know that well enough.’ And Karl drew his fingers backwards and forwards between the stoker’s, while the stoker gazed round him with shining eyes, as if blessed by a great happiness that no one could grudge him.

‘Now you must get ready to defend yourself, answer yes and no, or else these people won’t have any idea of the truth. You must promise me to do what I tell you, for I’m afraid, and I’ve good reason for it, that I won’t be able to help you any more.’ And then Karl burst out crying and kissed the stoker’s hand, taking that seamed, almost nerveless hand and pressing it to his cheek like a treasure which he would soon have to give up. But now his uncle the Senator was at his side and very gently yet firmly led him away.

The stoker seems to have bewitched you,’ he said, exchanging an understanding look with the Captain over Karl’s head. ‘You felt lonely, then you found the stoker, and you’re grateful to him now; that’s all to your credit, I’m sure. But if only for my sake, don’t push things too far, learn to understand your position.’

Outside the door a hubbub had arisen, shouts could be heard; it sounded even as if someone were being brutally banged against the door. A sailor entered in a somewhat dishevelled state with a girl's apron tied round his waist. ‘There’s a mob outside,’ he cried, thrusting out his elbows as if he were still pushing his way through a crowd. He came to himself with a start and made to salute the Captain, but at that moment he noticed the apron, tore it off, threw it on the floor and shouted: ‘This is a bit too much; they’ve tied a girl’s apron on me.’ Then he clicked his heels together and saluted. Someone began to laugh, but the Captain said severely: ‘This is a fine state of things. Who is outside?’

‘It’s my witnesses,' said Schubal, stepping forward. ‘I humbly beg your pardon, sir, for their%bad behaviour. The men sometimes go a bit wild when they’ve finished a voyage.’

‘Bring them in here at once!’ the Captain ordered, then

immediately turning to the Senator said, politely but hastily: 'Have the goodness now, Mr Senator, to take your nephew and follow this man, who will conduct you to your boat. I need hardly say what a pleasure and an honour it has been to me to make your personal acquaintance. I only wish, Mr Senator, that I may have an early opportunity to resume our interrupted talk about the state of the American fleet, and that it may be again interrupted in as pleasant a manner,' 'One nephew is quite enough for me, I assure you,' said Karl's uncle, laughing. ‘And now accept my best thanks for your kindness and good-bye. Besides it isn't altogether impossible that we' - he put his arm warmly round Karl - 'might see quite a lot of you on our next voyage to Europe,' 'That would give me great pleasure,' said the Captain. The two gentlemen shook hands with each other, Karl barely touched the Captain's hand in silent haste, for the latter's attention was already engrossed by the fifteen men who were now being shepherded into the room by Schubal, somewhat chastened but still noisy enough. The sailor begged the Senator to let him lead the way and opened a path through the crowd for him and Karl, so that they passed with ease through ranks of bowing men. It seemed that these goodnatured fellows regarded the quarrel between Schubal and the stoker as a joke, and not even the Captain's presence could make them take it seriously. Karl noticed among them the kitchen-maid Lina, who with a sly wink at him was now tying round her waist the apron which the sailor had flung away, for it was hers.

Still following the sailor, they left the office and turned into a small passage which brought them in a couple of steps to a little door, from which a short ladder led down to the boat that was waiting for them. Their conductor leapt down into the boat with a single bound, and the sailors in the boat rose and saluted. The Senator was just warning Karl to be careful how he came down, when Karl, as he stood on the top rung, burst into violent sobs. The Senator put his right

hand under Karl's chin, drew him close to him and caressed him with his left hand. In this posture they slowly descended step by step and, still clinging together, entered the boat, where the Senator found a comfortable place for Karl, immediately facing him. At a sign from the Senator the sailors pushed off from the ship and at once began rowing at full speed. They were scarcely a few yards from the ship when Karl made the unexpected discovery that they were on the side of the ship towards which the windows of the office looked out. All three windows were filled with Schubal’s witnesses, who saluted and waved in the most friendly way; Uncle Jacob actually waved back and one of the sailors showed his skill by flinging a kiss towards the ship without interrupting the regular rhythm of his rowing. It was now as if there were really no stoker at all. Karl took a more careful look at his uncle, whose knees were almost touching his own, and doubts came into his mind whether this man would ever be able to take the stoker’s place. And his uncle evaded his eye and stared at the waves on which their boat was tossing.