Upton Sinclair - Dragons’s teeth

A surprising incident. One afternoon Lanny was in his studio, playing that very grand piano which he had bought for Kurt, but which was beginning to show the effects of a decade of sea air. A sunshiny afternoon of spring; Lanny had the doors and windows open, and was filling the surrounding atmosphere with the strains of Rubinstein’s Waltz Caprice. The telephone rang, for they now had phones in all the buildings on the estate; to Irma it had seemed ridiculous to have to send a servant every time she wished to invite Beauty over to the Cottage for lunch, or when she wanted to tell Lanny to come swimming. Now a servant was calling from the villa, reporting that there was an elderly gentleman who said his name was "Monsieur Jean". Lanny wasn’t usually slow, but this time he had to have the name repeated. Suddenly he remembered the town of Dieppe.

The Knight Commander of the Bath and Grand Officer of the Legion of Honor had held off for the better part of a year, until Lanny had given up the idea of hearing from him. It seemed hard to believe, for Zaharoff was bound to know that he had got something real at that seance—and how could he bear not to get more? At last he had decided to give way, and characteristically he wasn’t taking half-measures; he had come in person, the first time he had ever thus honored the Budd family. He honored very few persons in that manner.

"Monsieur Jean" was alone. He had seated himself on the edge of a straight chair, as if he wasn’t sure that he would be welcomed; he had kept his walking-stick, and was leaning on it with both hands folded over it. The cold blue eyes met Lanny’s. Was Lanny mistaken in thinking that there was an anxious look on the face of the old spider, the old wolf, the old devil? Anyhow, the younger man greeted his caller with cordiality, and the latter said quickly: "For a long time I have known that I owed you an apology."

"Don’t bother about it, Monsieur Jean," said the younger man. He used that name because some servant might overhear. "I realized that you were upset. Several times in these seances I have been told things which didn’t happen to be true, and which would have been embarrassing if there had been others present." Nothing could have been more tactful.

"I should have written to you," continued the other. "But I put it off, thinking you might come to see me."

"I had no way of knowing what your wishes would be." To himself Lanny added: "You were trying other mediums, to see if you could get what you want!"

"I decided that the proper thing to do was to make my apologies in person. I will make them to the medium, if she is still with you."

"She is." Lanny would wait, and make the old man ask for what he wanted.

"Do you suppose it would be possible for me to see her again?"

"You mean, to try another seance?"

"I would esteem it a great favor."

"I can’t answer for her, Monsieur Jean. As I explained at the time, it causes her distress if anything goes wrong. She was very much upset."

"I realize that. I am thoroughly prepared now, and can give you my word that nothing of the sort will happen again. Whatever comes, I will take it, as you Americans say."

"Perhaps," suggested Lanny, "you might prefer to sit with her alone?"

"If she will trust me, that would be better. You may tell her that I will pay her generously."

"I would beg you not to mention that. We have a financial arrangement with her, and her time is ours."

"Surely it would be proper for me to pay a portion of the cost?"

"There is no need to raise the question. The amount is small— and you may not get the results you want."

"If I should get them, and if I might see her now and then, you will surely let me make some financial arrangement?"

"We can talk about that by and by. First, I will see if I can persuade her to give you another sitting."

"You have not told her about me?"

"I haven’t told anybody. You remember I wrote you that that was my intention."

"You have been very kind, Lanny, and I shall never forget it."

It wasn’t an easy matter to persuade Madame Zyszynski. She was still angry with "that rude old gentleman." What he had done to her was unforgivable. But Lanny told her that the rude old gentleman had been extremely unhappy, and something had come from Tecumseh which had broken him down; it had taken him nearly a year to get over it. But now he was penitent, and had given his word, and Lanny felt sure he would keep it. Madame was used to trusting Lanny—she was a lonely old woman, and had adopted him as her son in her imagination. Now she said she would give Monsieur Jean another chance to behave, but first Lanny must explain to him the physical shock which he had caused her, that she had been ill and depressed for days, and so on. Tecumseh would doubtless be extremely angry, and would scold the sitter without the least regard to his dignity.

Lanny dutifully went back and delivered these messages; and the armament king of Europe solemnly agreed to humble his pride before the chieftain of the Iroquois. Lanny said: "I don’t know what he really is, but he acts like a personage, and you have to treat him that way. You have given him offense, and you will have to pretend that you are petitioning for pardon." Lanny said it with a smile, but the Knight Commander and Grand Officer was serious; he replied that if it would get him a message from the source desired he would submit to torture from real Indians.

So Lanny took him down to his studio, and showed him some of Marcel’s paintings on the walls—though he probably didn’t have much mind for art just then. The medium came in, and said: "Bon jour, monsieur" Zaharoff answered: "Bon jour, madame" and they seated themselves in the two chairs which Lanny had moved into place for them. He waited until he saw the woman going into her trance successfully; then he went out, closing the studio door behind him.

Beauty and Irma had been in to Cannes for shopping. They came back; and of course it would no longer be possible to keep the secret from them. No need to, anyhow, for the matter would doubtless be settled this time; the duquesa would "come through," or Zaharoff would give up. Lanny took them into his mother’s room and told them who had attended Madame’s seance in Dieppe. Both the ladies were excited, for Zaharoff was the same kind of royalty as Irma, and sovereigns do not often meet their social equals. "Oh, do you think he’ll stay for dinner?" inquired Beauty.

Anyhow, the ladies would dress; but not too much, for Monsieur Jean wouldn’t be dressed. Lanny explained the reason for the name. Then he walked up and down on the loggia in front of the villa, watching the sun set behind the dark mountains across the Golfe Juan. Many times he had watched it, as far back as his memory went. He had seen war come, and vessels burning and sinking in that blue expanse of water. He had watched the tangled fates of human beings woven on these grounds; love and hate, jealousy and greed, suffering and fear; he had seen people dancing, laughing and chatting, and more than once crying. Marcel had sat here with his burned-off face, meeting his friends in the protecting darkness. Here, too, Kurt had played his music, Rick had outlined his plays, and Robbie had negotiated big munitions- deals. Now Lanny walked, waiting to hear if the spirit of a noble Spanish lady was going to speak to her Greek husband through the personality of an American redskin, dead a couple of centuries and using the vocal cords of a Polish peasant woman who had been a servant in the home of a Warsaw merchant. One thing you could say about life, it provided you with variety!

The old man came up from the studio alone, walking with his head thrust forward, as he always did, as if smelling his way. Lanny went to meet him, and he said, with unwonted intensity: "My boy, this is really a disturbing thing!"