By Hanns Heinz Ewers 1911
Translated by Joe E. Bandel 2009
Copyright 2009 by Joe E. Bandel Protected under United States Copyright Law as a derivative work of a foreign Author originally published prior to 1923
“Dear Petersen,” the attorney said arrogantly. “Calm down. I am convinced that this is just the girl we need and I think that is enough.”
The coach stopped in front of a wine locale and they entered. Frank Braun asked for a private room in the back and the waiter led them to one. Then he looked at the wine selection and ordered two bottles of Pommery and a bottle of cognac.
“Hurry up!” He cried.
The waiter brought the wine and left. Frank Braun closed the door. Then he stepped up to the prostitute.
“Please Miss Alma, may I take your hat?”
She gave him her hat and her wild, unpinned hair cascaded down and curled around her forehead and cheeks. Her face was clear with just a few freckles and her green eyes shimmered. Small rows of bright teeth shone out between thin pale lips and she was surrounded by a consuming, almost unnatural sensuality.
“Take off your blouse,” he said.
She obeyed quietly. He loosened both buttons of her shift at the shoulders and pulled it down to reveal two almost classically formed breasts that were only a little too firm. Frank Braun glanced over at his uncle.
“That will be enough,” he said. “The rest will look just as good. Her hips certainly leave nothing more to desire.”
Then he turned back to the prostitute. “Thank you Alma. You can get dressed again.”
The girl obeyed took the cup that he offered and emptied it. During that hour he made sure that her cup never stood empty for more than a minute. Then he chatted with her. He talked about Paris, spoke of beautiful women at the de la Galette in Moulin and at the Elysée in Montmartre. He described exactly how they looked, described their shoes, their hats and their dresses. Then he turned to the prostitute.
“You know Alma, it is really a shame to see you running around here. Please don’t think badly of me but haven’t I seen you before somewhere else? Were you ever in the Union Bar or the Arcadia?”
No, she had never been in them or in the Amour Hall. Once she had gone with a gentleman to the old Ballroom but when she went back alone the next night she was turned away at the door because she wasn’t dressed properly.
“Of course you need to be dressed properly,” Frank Braun confirmed. “Do you think you will ever again stand all dressed up in front of that ballroom door?”
The prostitute laughed, “It doesn’t really matter. A man is a man!”
He paid no attention and told her fabulous stories of women that had made their fortunes in the great ballrooms. He spoke of beautiful pearl necklaces and large diamonds, carriages and teams of white horses. Then suddenly he asked.
“Tell me, how long have you been running around here?”
She said quietly, “It’s been four years since I ran away from home.”
He questioned her, pulling out of her bit by bit what he wanted to know. He drank with her, filling her glass and pouring cognac into her champagne without her noticing. She was almost twenty years old and had come from Halberstadt. Her father was an honest Baker, honorable and distinguished like her mother and like her six sisters.
She had first lain with a man a few days after her confirmation. He was an associate of her father’s. Had she loved him? Not at all- well only when- yes and then there was another and then another. Both her father and her mother had beaten her but she would still run off and stay out all night. It went on like that for a year until one day her parents threw her out. Then she pawned her watch and traveled to Berlin. She had been here ever since-
Frank Braun said, “Yes, yes. That is quite a story.” Then he continued, “But now, today is your lucky day!”
“Really,” she asked. “Why do you say that?”
Her voice rang hoarse like it was under a veil, “One day is just a good as another to me. All I need is a man, nothing else!”
But he knew how to get her interest, “But Alma, you have to be contented with any man that wants you! Wouldn’t you like it if it were the other way around? If you could have anyone that you wanted?”
Her eyes lit up at that. “Oh yes, I would really like that!”
He laughed, “Well have you ever met anyone on the street that you wanted and he wouldn’t give you the time of day? Wouldn’t it be great if you could choose him instead?”
She laughed, “You, my boy. I would really like to-“
“Me as well,” he agreed. “Then and any time you wanted. But you can only do that when you have money and that is why I said that today is your lucky day because you can earn a lot of money today if you want.”
“How much,” she asked.
He said, “Enough money to buy you all the dresses and jewelry that will get you into the finest and most distinguished ballrooms. How much? Let’s say ten thousand- or make it twelve thousand Marks.”
“What!” gasped the assistant Doctor.
The professor, who had never even considered such a sum snapped, “You seem to be somewhat free with other people’s money.”
Frank Braun laughed in delight. “Do you hear that Alma, how the Privy Councillor is beside himself over the sum that he should give you? But I must tell you that it is not free. You will be helping him and he should help you as well. Is fifteen thousand alright with you?”
She looked at him with enormous eyes.
“Yes, but what do I need to do for it?”
“That is the thing that is so funny,” he said. “You don’t need to do anything right now, only wait a little bit. That’s all.”
She drank, “Wait?” She cried gaily, “I’m not very good at waiting. But if I must for fifteen thousand Marks I will! Prosit boy!” and she emptied her glass.
He quickly filled it up again.
“It is a splendid story,” he declared. “There is a gentleman, he is a count- well, really a prince, a good looking fellow. You would really like him. But unfortunately you can’t see him. They have him in prison and he will be executed soon. The poor fellow, especially since he is as innocent as you or I. He is just somewhat irascible and that’s how the misfortune happened. While he was intoxicated he got into a quarrel with his best friend and shot him. Now he must die.”
“What should I do?” She asked quickly. Her nostrils quivered. Her interest in this curious prince was fully aroused.
“You,” he continued. “You can help him fulfil his last wish.”
“Yes,” she cried quickly. “Yes, yes! He wants to be with a woman one more time right? I will do it, do it gladly and he will be satisfied with me!”
“Well done, Alma,” said the attorney. “Well done. You are a good girl, but things are not that simple. Pay attention so you understand.
After he had stabbed- I mean shot his friend to death he ran to his family. They should have protected him, hid him, helped him to escape but they didn’t do that at all. They knew how immensely rich he was and thought there was a good possibility that they would inherit everything from him so they called the police instead.”
“The Devil!” Alma said with conviction.
“Yes, they did,” he continued. “It was frightfully mean of them. So he was imprisoned and what do you think he wants now?”
“Revenge,” she replied promptly.
He clapped her approvingly on the shoulder.
“That’s right Alma. I see you have read all the right books. So he determined to get revenge on his treacherous family and the only way to do it was to cut them off from his inheritance. You understand everything so far don’t you?”
“Naturally I understand,” she declared. “It would serve them right.”
“But how to do it,” he continued. “That was the question. After long deliberation he found the only possible way. The only way he could prevent his millions to be taken was if he had a child of his own!”
“Does the prince have one?” She asked.
“No,” he answered. “Unfortunately he has none. But he still lives. There is still time-“
Her breath flew and her breasts heaved quickly, “I can have the prince’s child.”
“That’s right,” he said. “Will you?”
And she screamed, “Yes I will.”
She threw herself back in the lounge chair, spread out her legs and opened her arms wide. A heavy lock of red hair fell down onto her neck. Then she sprang up, emptied her glass again.
“It’s hot in here,” she said. “Very hot!”
She tore her blouse off and fanned herself with a handkerchief.
He held her glass out to her. “Would you like some more? Come, we will drink to the prince!”
Their glasses clinked together.
“A nice robber story you tell there,” hissed the Privy Councillor to his nephew. “I am curious how it comes out.”
“Have no fear, uncle Jakob,” he came back. “There is still another chapter.”
Then he turned again to the red haired prostitute.
“Well then, that is what it’s all about Alma. That’s how you can help us. But there is still a problem that I must explain to you. As you know, the Baron-“
“She interrupted him, “The Baron? I thought he was a prince?”
“Naturally he is a prince,” confirmed Frank Braun. “But when he is incognito he calls himself Baron. That’s the way it is with princes.
Now then, his Highness, the prince-“
“His Highness?” She whispered.
“Certainly,” he cried. “Highness like King or Kaiser! But you must swear that you will not talk about it- not to any one. So then, the prince is in disgrace now in a dungeon and heavily guarded at all times. No one is permitted to see him except his attorney. It is highly unlikely that he will be able to be with a woman before his last hour.”
“Oh,” she sighed.
Her interest in the unlucky prince was visibly less but Frank Braun paid no attention.
“There,” he declaimed totally unperturbed in a voice ringing with pathos, “deep in his heart, in his terrible need, in his dreadful despair and unquenchable thirst for revenge he suddenly thought about the strange experiments of his Excellency, the genuine Privy Councillor, Professor, Doctor, ten Brinken, the shining light of science.
The young handsome prince, now in the spring of his life, still remembered well his golden boyhood and the good old gentleman that looked after him when he had whooping cough and that sent him bon-bons when he was sick. There he sits, Alma. Look at him, the instrument of the unlucky prince’s revenge!”
He waved with grand gestures toward his uncle.
