Stefan Zweig - The Collected Stories of Stefan Zweig

‘Swear to me… that no one will know… swear.’

I raised my hand as if taking an oath. She looked at me with… with an indescribable expression… it was soft, warm, grateful… yes, truly, truly grateful. She tried to say something else, but it was too difficult for her. She lay there for a long time, exhausted by the effort, with her eyes closed. Then the terrible part began… the terrible part… she fought for another entire and difficult hour. Not until morning was it all over…”

He was silent for some time. I did not notice until the bell struck from amidships, once, twice, three times—three o’clock. The moon was not shining so brightly now, but a different, faint yellow glow was already trembling in the air, and the wind blew light as a breeze from time to time. Half-an-hour more, an hour more, and it would be day, the grey around us would be extinguished by clear light. I saw his features more distinctly now that the shadows were not so dense and dark in the corner where we sat—he had taken off his cap, and now that his head was bared his tormented face looked even more terrible. But already the gleaming lenses of his glasses were turned to me again, he pulled himself together, and his voice took on a sharp and derisive tone.

“It was all over for her now—but not for me. I was alone with the body—but I was also alone in a strange house and in a city that would permit no secrets, and I… I had to keep hers. Think about it, think about the circumstances: a woman from the colony’s high society, a perfectly healthy woman who had been dancing at the government ball only the evening before, suddenly dead in her bed… and a strange doctor with her, apparently called by her servant… no one in the house saw when he arrived or where he came from… she was carried in by night in a litter, and then the doors were closed… and in the morning she was dead. Only then were the servants called, and suddenly the house echoes with screams… the neighbours will know at once, the whole city will know, and there’s only one man who can explain it all… I, the stranger, the doctor from a remote country station. A delightful situation, don’t you agree?

I knew what lay ahead of me now. Fortunately the boy was with me, the good fellow who read every thought of mine in my eyes—that yellow-skinned, dull-minded creature knew that there was still a battle to be fought. I had said to him only, ‘Your mistress did not want anyone to know what happened.’ He returned my glance with his moist, doglike, yet determined gaze. All he said was, ‘Yes, sir.’ But he washed the blood off the floor, tidied everything—and his very determination restored mine to me.

Never in my life before, I know, was I master of such concentrated energy, and I never shall be again. When you have lost everything, you fight desperately for the last that is left—and the last was her legacy to me, my obligation to keep her secret. I calmly received the servants, told them all the same invented story: how the boy she had sent for the doctor happened to meet me by chance on his way. But while I talked, apparently calmly, I was waiting… waiting all the time for the crucial appearance of the medical officer who would have to make out the death certificate before we could put her in her coffin, and her secret with her. Don’t forget, this was Thursday, and her husband would arrive on Saturday…

At last, at nine o’clock, I heard the medical officer announced. I had told the servants to send for him—he was my superior in rank and at the same time my rival, the same doctor of whom she had once spoken with such contempt, and who had obviously already heard about my application for a transfer. I sensed his hostility at once, but that in itself stiffened my backbone.

In the front hall he immediately asked, ‘When did Frau… naming her by her surname—when did she die?’

‘At six in the morning.’

‘When did she send for you?’

‘Eleven last night.’

‘Did you know that I was her doctor?’

‘Yes, but this was an emergency… and then… well, she asked especially for me. She wouldn’t let them call any other doctor.’

He stared at me, and a flush of red came into his pale, rather plump face. I could tell that he felt bitter. But that was exactly what I needed—all my energies were concentrating on getting a quick decision, for I could feel that my nerves wouldn’t hold out much longer. He was going to return a hostile reply, but then said more mildly, ‘You may think that you can dispense with my services, but it is still my official duty to confirm death—and establish the cause of death.’

I did not reply, but let him go into the room ahead of me. Then I stepped back, locked the door and put the key on the table. He raised his eyebrows in surprise.

‘What’s the meaning of this?’

I faced him calmly. ‘We don’t have to establish the cause of death, we have to think of a different one. This lady called me to treat her after… after suffering the consequences of an operation that went wrong. It was too late for me to save her, but I promised I would save her reputation, and that is what I’m going to do. And I am asking you to help me.’

His eyes were wide with astonishment. ‘You surely aren’t saying,’ he stammered, ‘that you’re asking me, as medical officer, to conceal a crime?’

‘Yes, I am. I must.’

‘So I’m to pay for your crime?’

‘I’ve told you, I didn’t touch this lady, or… or I wouldn’t be here talking to you, I would have put an end to myself by now. She has paid for her transgression, if that’s what you want to call it. There’s no need for the world to know about it. And I will not allow this lady’s reputation to be tarnished now for no good reason.’

My firm tone made him even angrier. ‘You will not allow… oh, so I suppose you’re my superior, or at least you think you are! Just try giving me orders… when you were summoned here from your country outpost I thought at once there was something fishy going on… nice practices you get up to, I must say, here’s a pretty sample of your skill! But now I will examine her, I will do it, and you may depend upon it that any account to which my name is signed will be correct. I won’t put my name to a lie.’

I kept quite calm. ‘This time you must. You won’t leave the room until you do.’

I put my hand in my pocket. In fact I did not have my revolver with me, but he jumped in alarm. I came a step closer and looked at him.

‘Listen, let me tell you something… and then we need not resort to desperate measures. I have reached a point where I set no store by my life or anyone else’s… I am anxious only to keep my promise that the manner of this death will remain secret. And listen to this too: I give you my word of honour that if you will sign the certificate saying that this lady died of… well, died accidentally, I will leave this city and the East Indies too in the course of this week… and if you want, I will take my revolver and shoot myself as soon as the coffin is in the ground and I can be sure that no one… no one , you understand—can make any more inquiries. That ought to satisfy you—it must satisfy you.’

There must have been something menacing in my voice, something quite dangerous, because as I instinctively came closer he retreated with the obvious horror of… of someone fleeing from a man in frenzy running amok, wielding a kris . And suddenly he had changed… he cringed, so to speak, he was bemused, his hard attitude crumbled. He murmured something with a last faint protest. ‘It will be the first time in my life that I’ve signed a false certificate… still, I expect some form of words can be found… Who knows what would happen if… but I can’t simply…’