The Green Face Read Online Free PDF Page B

matter. The very name of Chauberrisser
awakes such, oh, such fond memories”, the Count’s voice quivered with emotion, “that and the name of EugeneLouis-JeanJoseph have close ties with our family.”
    `Now he wants me to ask who this Louis-Eugene-Joseph is. That is precisely what I will not do’, thought Hauberrisser and
silently smoked his cigarette instead.

    “Eugene-Louis-Jean-Joseph was my godfather, you see. He
died in Africa immediately after I was christened.”
    `Probably from pangs of conscience’, Hauberrisser muttered
to himself. “Died in Africa, did he, how very unfortunate.”
    “Unfortunately, yes, unfortunately. Poor Eugene-LouisJean-Joseph! He could have been Emperor of France.”
    “He could have been what?” - Hauberrisser thought he must
have misheard - “He could have been Emperor of France?”
    “Assuredly!” Proudly Arpad Zitter played his ace, “Prince
Eugene-Louis-Jean-Joseph Napoleon IV. He fell on 1st July
1879 inthe war against the Zulus. I even have alock of his hair”,
he pulled out a gold pocket watch the size of a steak and of quite
fiendish tastelessness, opened the lid and pointed to a tuft of
black hair. “Me watch came from him, as well. A christening
present. A mechanical marvel.” He explained, “If you press here
it strikes the hours, minutes and seconds and at the same time
a pair of mechanical lovers perform on the back. This button
starts the stop-watch, this one stops it; if you push it in a bit
farther the current phase of the moon is shown; even farther in
and the date flips out. Push this lever to the left and it squirts out
a drop of musk-oil, to the right and it plays the Marseillaise. A
truly royal present. There are only two of its kind anywhere.”
    “That must be a comfort”, Hauberrisser conceded with polite
ambiguity. He was highly amused by the combination of brazen
effrontery-and total ignorance of good manners.
    Count Ciechonski, encouraged by Hauberrisser’s friendly
expression, became even more familiar, told him about his
extensive estates in Russian Poland which had unfortunately
been devastated by the war (luckily he was not dependent on
them for his income, his intimate connections with the American Stock Exchange allowed him to earn a few thousand pounds
with speculations on the London market every month), moved
on to horse-racing and bribing jockeys, the scores of eligible
young billionairesses he knew, to land in Brazil and the Urals
going for a song, still-undeveloped oil wells by the Black Sea,
and remarkable inventions which were his to exploit and which were sure to bring in a million a day; then he got on to buried
treasures, whose owners had died or fled, to infallible methods
of winning at roulette, told Hauberrisser about huge sums for
spies that Japan was just itching to pay out to reliable persons
(of course one would have to put down a deposit first), prattled
on about underground brothels in the big cities to which only
those in the know had access, and even went into great detail
about King Solomon’s golden Ophir, which, as he knew from
the papers of his godfather Eugene-Louis-Jean-Joseph, lay in
the land of the Zulus.

    He was even more versatile than his pocket watch and dangled a thousand hooks, each more crudely baited than the last,
in order to tempt his prey. Like a shortsighted burglar who tries
a whole set of skeleton keys without ever finding the keyhole,
he reconnoitered Hauberrisser’s mind without finding an open
window to climb in through.
    Finally he gave up in exhaustion and asked Hauberrisser in
a rather deflated voice whether he would not mind introducing
him to some gentleman’s gambling club. But even here his
hopes were dashed, Hauberrisser excused himself, pointing out
that he was a stranger in Amsterdam himself.
    The `Count’ took a disgruntled sip of his sherry-cobbler.
    Hauberrisser looked at him reflectively. `Perhaps the best
thing would be to tell