The night in Lisbon

  "I reached Feldkirch and took a room at a small hotel. It was summer, the tourist season, and I attracted no attention. The two suitcases made me respectable. I decided to abandon them and travel light—a knapsack would be the best thing; the region was full of hikers. I paid my room rent for a week in advance.

  "I started out next day. Until midnight I hid in a clearing not far from the border. I remember that the gnats bothered me at first and that I spent quite some time watching a blue salamander in a pool of water. A crested salamander. Every now and then he came up for air and I could see his spotted, yellowish-red belly. I reflected that for him the world stopped at this pool. As far as he was concerned, that little water hole was Switzerland, Germany, France, Africa, and Yokohama, all in one. He dove and bobbed up, dove and bobbed up, in complete harmony with the summer evening.

  "I slept a few hours and made ready. I was full of confidence. Ten minutes later a customs guard appeared beside me as though he had shot out of the earth. 'Halt! Don't move! What are you doing here?'

  "He must have been lurking a long while in the darkness. I protested that I was an innocent hiker, but that didn't help at all. 'You can tell them that at.headquarters,' he said, cocked his rifle, and marched me ahead of him to the nearest village.

  "I was crushed and stunned. Still, a small corner of my brain was wide awake, wondering how I could escape. But it was out of the question; this guard knew his business. He stayed exactly the right distance behind me; there was no chance of attacking him by surprise, and I couldn't have gone five steps without being shot.

  "At the customs station he opened a little room. 'Go in. Wait here.'

  "'How long?'

  " 'Until you're questioned.'

  " 'Can't you do it right away? I haven't done anything.'

  " 'Then you have nothing to worry about.'

  " Tm not worried,' I said, taking off my knapsack. 'Let's begin.'

  " 'We'll begin when we're ready,' said the guard, with a smile that bared his uncommonly white teeth. He looked and behaved like a hunter. 'Tomorrow morning the officer in charge will be here. You can sleep in that chair. It's only for a few hours. Heil Hitler!'

  "I looked around the room. The window was barred; the door was very solid and locked from outside. I could hear people moving about on the other side of the wall. Escape was out of the question. I sat and waited. It was dismal. At last the sky turned gray and then gradually blue and bright. I heard voices and smelled coffee. The door was opened. I pretended to be waking up, and yawned. A customs officer came in; he was stout and red-faced, and seemed more easygoing than the hunter. 'At last!' I said. 'This is a mighty uncomfortable place to sleep.'

  "'What were you doing by the border?' he asked, and opened my knapsack. 'Trying to sneak across? Smuggling?'

  " 'Did you ever hear of smuggling old pants?' I asked. 'Or shirts, for that matter?'

  " 'Maybe not. But what were you doing there at night?' He put my knapsack aside. I suddenly thought of the money I had on me. If he found it, I was lost. I prayed that he wouldn't search me.

  " I was enjoying the view of the Rhine by night,' I said, smiling. 'I'm a tourist. It's so romantic'

  " 'Where'd you start from?'

  "I named the town and my hotel. 'I was intending to go back this morning,' I said. 'My bags are still there. I've paid my rent a week in advance. Would a smuggler do that?'

  " 'We'll look into it,' he said. 'I'll come for you in an hour. We'll go back and see what you've got in your bags.'

  "It was a long way. The fat man pushed his bicycle along beside him and smoked. He, too, was as watchful as a police dog. We finally got there.

  " 'There he is!' someone called out of the hotel window. Then the landlady rushed out, beet-red with excitement. 'Gracious, we thought something had happened to you. Where have you been all night?'

  "Finding my bed unslept in, she had thought I had been murdered. Apparently there was a bandit loose in the region. She had called the police. The policeman followed her out of the house. He was the same type as the hunter. 'I got lost,' I said, as calmly as I could. 'And it was such a lovely night. I slept out in the open for the first time since I was a boy. It was wonderful. I'm sorry to have worried you. Unfortunately, I went too near the border by mistake. Won't you please tell this customs officer that I live here?'

  "The landlady complied with my request. The customs officer was satisfied, but the policeman had perked up an ear. 'So you've been hanging around the border,' he said. 'Have you got papers? Who are you, anyway?'

  "For a moment the breath went out of me. Helen's money was in my inside pocket; if it were found on me, they'd suspect me of trying to smuggle it into Switzerland and arrest me on the spot. And then what?

  "I stated my name but did not show my passport; Germans and Austrians don't need one in their own country. 'How do we know you're not the bandit we're looking for?' asked the policeman who looked like the hunter.

  "I laughed. 'There's nothing to laugh about,' he said angrily, and began to search my bags.

  "I pretended to take the whole thing as a joke; but if they were to search my person, how was I to account for all that money? I decided to say that I was thinking of buying some property in the vicinity.

  "The policeman found a letter in a side pocket of one of the suitcases. I was very much surprised; I couldn't remember any such letter. It was the suitcase I had brought from Osnabrück—I had tossed some of my former belongings into it, and Helen had taken it to the car. The policeman opened the letter and began to read. I watched him closely. I had no idea what the letter could be and only hoped there was nothing of any importance in it.

  'The policeman grunted and looked up. 'Is your name Josef Schwarz?'

  "I nodded. 'Why didn't you say so right away?' he asked.

  " 'I did,' I answered, trying to read the printed letterhead through the paper.

  " 'That's a fact,' said the customs officer. 'He told us.'

  " 'Then the letter is about you?' the policeman asked.

  "I stretched out my hand. He hesitated for a moment; then he handed it to me. I looked at the letterhead: National Socialist Party Headquarters, Osnabrück. Slowly I read: The Osnabrück authorities request whom it may concern to give all possible assistance to Party Member Josef Schwarz, traveling on important secret business. Signed 'Georg Jürgens, Obersturmbannführer,' in Helen's handwriting.

  "I held on to the letter. 'And you are Mr. Josef Schwarz?' The policeman's tone had become a good deal more respectful.

  "I produced my passport, pointed to the name, and put it away again. 'Secret government business,' I said.

  "'So that's it?'

  " 'Yes, that's it,' I said gravely, and put the letter in my pocket. 'I hope you're satisfied.'

  " 'Of course.' The policeman screwed up one pale-blue eye. I understand. Observation of the border.'

  "I raised my hand. I must request you not to breathe a word. It's secret. That's why I didn't tell you before. But you've wormed it out of me. Are you a party member?'

  " 'Naturally,' said the policeman. Only then did I notice that he had red hair. I gave him a pat on the shoulder. 'Good man! Here's a little something for the two of you. Have a good glass of wine after all your trouble.' "

  Schwarz turned to me with a melancholy smile. "It's amazing how easy it is to hoodwink people whose job it is to be suspicious. Have you had that experience?"

  "Not without papers," I said. "But I admire your wife. She figured that letter might come in handy."

  "She must have thought I wouldn't take it if she mentioned it. On moral grounds. Or that I'd be afraid to. Actually, I would have taken it. Anyway, it saved me."

  I had listened to Schwarz with mounting interest. Now I looked around. An Englishman and the German diplomat were on the dance floor. They were doing a fox trot, and the Englishman was the better dancer. The German needed more room; he danced with a dogged aggressiveness, pushing his partner ahead of him like a fieldpiece. In the half
-darkness it seemed to me for a moment that a chessboard had come to life. From time to time the two kings, the German and the English, came dangerously together; but the Englishman always managed to dodge. "Then what did you do?" I asked Schwarz.

  "I went to my room. I was exhausted and wanted to rest and think things over. The way Helen had saved me was so unforeseen, it was like the intervention of a deus ex machina —a theatrical twist that turns a hopeless muddle into a happy ending. But it was plain that I'd better be on my way before that policeman had too much time to talk or think. I decided to trust my luck while it held. I inquired about trains and found out there would be an express to Switzerland in an hour. I told the landlady I had to go to Zurich for a day and would be taking only one of my bags; could she keep the other until my return? Then I went to the station. Have you ever done that kind of thing? You've been careful for years, then you throw all caution to the winds."

  "Yes," I said. "But sometimes you go wrong. You think fate owes you something. But the fact is that it doesn't owe you a thing."

  "Of course not," said Schwarz. "But sometimes you lose your confidence in the old methods and decide to try something new. Helen had wanted me to cross the border with her in the train. I hadn't done so, and I would have been lost if her inspiration hadn't saved me—so now I thought I'd better do things her way."

  "Did you?"

  Schwarz nodded. "I bought a first-class ticket; luxury always inspires confidence. I didn't think of the money I had on me until the train began to move. I couldn't hide it in the compartment; I was not alone. I had a traveling companion, a man—he was very pale and he seemed anxious. I tried the toilets; both were occupied. By this time the train had reached the border station. My instinct drove me to the dining car. I sat down, ordered a bottle of expensive wine, and asked for the menu.

  " 'Have you baggage?' the waiter asked.

  " 'Yes, in the next car.'

  " 'Wouldn't you prefer to take care of the customs first? I'll hold your place for you.'

  " 'That can take a long time. Bring me something to eat first. I'm hungry. I'll pay in advance, so you'll know I'm coming back.'

  "I had hoped that the border guards would overlook the dining car, but no such luck. The waiter was just putting the wine and soup on the table when two men in uniform came through. I had meanwhile slipped my money under the felt table cover, and put Helen's letter into my passport.

  " 'Passport!' said one of the guards crisply. I handed him mine. 'No baggage?' he asked before opening it.

  " 'Just one suitcase,' I said. 'Right next door in first class.'

  " 'You'll have to open it,' said the other guard.

  "I stood up. 'Keep my place for me,' I said to the waiter.

  " 'Of course I will, sir. You've paid in advance.'

  "The customs guard looked at me. 'You've paid in advance?'

  " 'Why yes. Otherwise I couldn't have afforded it. After the border you've got to pay in Swiss francs. I haven't got any.'

  "The customs guard laughed. 'Not a bad idea,' he said. 'Funny more people don't think of it. You go ahead. I'll be checking the other passengers on my way.'

  " 'What about my passport?'

  " 'Don't worry. We'll find you.'

  "I went to my car. My fellow traveler was sitting there, looking more worried than ever. From time to time he ran a moist handkerchief over his perspiring face and hands. I stared out at the station and opened the window. There would be no point in jumping out if I was caught; escape was impossible, but somehow it soothed me to have the window open.

  "A guard stood in the doorway. 'Your luggage!'

  "I took down my suitcase and opened it. He looked in. Then he searched my companion's bag. 'All right,' he said and saluted.

  " 'My passport,' I said.

  " 'My colleague has it.'

  "His colleague came in a few moments later. It wasn't the officer who had taken my passport, but a uniformed party man with glasses and high boots." Schwarz smiled. "How the Germans love boots!"

  "They need them," I said. "Wading through all the muck they've made."

  Schwarz emptied his glass. He hadn't been drinking much. I looked at my watch: it was half past three. Schwarz noticed. "It won't be much longer," he said. "You'll have plenty of time to catch your boat. The rest is about happiness. There's never much to say about that."

  "How did you get through?" I asked.

  "The party man had read Helen's letter. He returned my passport and asked me if I knew anyone in Switzerland. I nodded.

  " 'Whom?'

  " 'Ammer and Rotenberg.'

  "Those were two Nazis who were working in Switzerland. Every refugee who had ever lived there knew them and hated them.

  "'Anyone else?'

  " 'Our people in Bern. I don't imagine there's any need to name them all?'

  "He saluted. 'Lots of luck. Heil Hitler!'

  "My companion was not so lucky. He had to show all his papers and was subjected to a cross-examination. He sweated and stuttered. I couldn't bear to look on. 'May I go back to the dining car?' I asked.

  " 'Of course!' said the party comrade. 'I hope you enjoy your lunch.'

  "The dining car had filled up in my absence. An American family had taken my table. 'I thought you were keeping my place for me,' I said to the waiter.

  "He shrugged his shoulders. 'I tried, sir. But what can you do with Americans? They don't understand German and they sit down where they please. Why don't you sit over there? A table's a table. See, I've moved your wine.'

  "I didn't know what to do. A family of four had occupied my table. A very pretty girl of sixteen was sitting next to my money. I couldn't insist on getting my table back. It might stir up a fuss. We were still on German soil.

  "As I stood there trying to make up my mind, the waiter said: 'Do please sit down, sir. I'll move you back as soon as they leave. Americans eat quickly. Sandwiches and orange juice. Then I'll serve you a nice lunch.'

  "There was nothing else to do. I took a seat where I was able to keep an eye on my money. It's funny when you think of it—a minute before, I'd have given all the money in the world just to get through. Now my only thought was to get that money back the moment we crossed the border, even if I had to assault the American family. I looked out and saw the worried little man being led away. My first feeling, I have to admit, was one of immense relief at not being in his shoes— then came sympathy, but in such cases sympathy is only a hypocritical attempt to conjure bad luck. I was completely disgusted with myself, but there was nothing I could do about it, even if I had really wanted to. I wanted to cross that border safely and I wanted my money. It wasn't the money as such— it was security, Helen, the months to come; still, it was money, it was my own skin, my egotistical happiness. We never get away from it. But there's always that ungovernable, hypocritical ham actor inside us. . . ."

  "Mr. Schwarz," I interrupted. "How did you get your money back?"

  "You're right," he said. "But my tirade is part of the story. The Swiss customs officers came into the dining car, and the and the American family not only had hand baggage but trunks in the baggage car. They had to leave. The children went along. They had finished eating. The table was cleared. I moved over, laid my hand on the tablecloth and felt the slight thickening.

  "Again the waiter transferred my wine.

  " 'Make out all right with the customs?' he asked.

  " 'Of course,' I answered. 'Bring me my pot roast. Are we in Switzerland now?'

  " 'No,' he said. 'Not till we start moving.'

  "He went off to the kitchen, and I waited for the train to move. I'm sure you know all about that last desperate feeling of impatience. I stared out the window at the people on the platform; a dwarf in a tuxedo, with trousers that were too short, wheeling a cart back and forth, trying frantically to sell Austrian wine and chocolate. The frightened man from my compartment was coming back. He was alone and in a great hurry. 'That's fast drinking,' said the waiter beside me.

&nbs
p; " 'What?'

  " 'It looks as if you were trying to put out a fire.'

  "I glanced at the bottle. It was almost empty. I hadn't even known I was drinking. At that moment the dining car gave a lurch. The bottle reeled. I caught it in my hand. The train began to move. 'Bring me another,' I said. The waiter disappeared.

  "I removed the money from under the tablecloth and put it in my pocket. A moment later the Americans came back, sat down at the table I had occupied a moment before, and ordered coffee. The girl began to take pictures of the landscape. Very wise of her, I thought; it was the most beautiful landscape in the world.