Authors: Albert Cohen
He spoke on, spoke at length, and in the end poor Saltiel allowed himself to be persuaded, because he was an old, enfeebled man in the seventy-fifth year of his age and because he loved his nephew. And so he got up on trembling legs and immediately a beaming Naileater flung open the door and bawled to Solomon and Michael who had been loitering in the corridor awaiting the outcome of the negotiations.
'Time, gentlemen, to show a ceremonial leg!' he bellowed. 'Order of the day: we are to pay a call on His Excellency! Solemn accoutrements and evening dress shall be worn! Let us do honour to our beloved island and let us by our appearance dazzle all those Gentiles, like small suns! To this end, my dears, spend freely of the napoleons which our uncle has in his keeping for you from the Uberal hands of Solal the Munificent! He who is not awesome in his habiliments shall not be permitted to gaze upon ministers and ambassadors! I have spoken! For my part, armed with my sixty pocket napoleons, and before the best shops shut their expensive doors, I shall hie me to town, there to procure new apparel, tasteful accessories and ditto fripperies, disbursing freely, sparing no expense, counting not, gladly paying up whatever the price, the sky being the limit! Go forth, apples of my eye, and do likewise!'
At two o'clock that same afternoon, Naileater stood hand on hip admiring himself in the small mirror in his hotel room. New frock-coat with silky lapels. Starched shirt. A spotted lavallière adding a touch of dash. Panama hat, given the heat. Sand-shoes, for he had tender toes. Tennis-racket and golf club in the manner of English diplomats. Gardenia in his buttonhole. Intellectual pince-nez solemnized by a black ribbon on which his long teeth chewed with gay abandon. And to complete the outfit, the crowning surprise, kept in reserve in the pocket of his coat to be produced at the right moment, which was immediately before he was presented to Lord Solal. Yes, prudence required that good Saltiel, who was inclined to be pernickety, be confronted by
a fait accompli.
Enter, moments later, Mattathias and Michael. The latter had opted to retain his uniform of synagogue usher: waistcoat gilded with small buttons and braid, fluted Greek kilt, Turkish slippers with turned-up toes and red pompoms, and tucked into the wide belt the damascened butts of a pair of antic pistols. Naileater nodded approvingly. Excellent, Michael would pass muster as his aide-de-camp! On the other hand, Mattathias had done no more than remove the piping from his undertaker's suit (which he had acquired in Cephalonia from one of his debtors who had been the beneficiary of the will of a relative who had worked for an undertaker) and had furthermore stuck on his head a Havana hat which he had found on the London—Geneva flight. Rather lacklustre was Mattathias, thought Naileater, but it was no bad thing, the contrast would make him to shine the more brightly. The two cousins were amazed by the jet-black glint of his forked beard, so he explained that not having been able to put his hand on his brilliantine, he had instead used a spot of boot polish, which was every bit as good.
Meanwhile, Solomon put in an appearance, blushing in the outfit which he had just bought from a shop called 'The Prodigal Son'. Not having found anything small enough for his size, he had decided on the first-communion suit which an assistant, who was either very
astute or a wag, had warmly advised. He was particularly proud of the white armband with the silk fringe of whose religious significance, like the other three Valiants, he was sublimely ignorant. He also took inordinate pride from the little Eton jacket, which had no tails and stopped short at his waist, and which Naileater immediately dubbed a 'bum-freezer'.
Finally Saltiel appeared, and Naileater was delighted to observe that he had kept to his nut-brown frock-coat. Perfect. He would shine brightest, he would appear superior, Western: everyone would assume that he was the leader of the delegation. Saltiel inspected the cousins with a Napoleonic eye in which Michael alone found favour.
'Solomon, take off that armband, it's meaningless. Mattathias, don't wear a hat at all if that's the best you can do. And you, Naileater, why the fancy dress? The frock-coat is fine, you can keep that. But get rid of the rest of the abominations. Otherwise I shall take steps and you won't be allowed in.'
His tone was such that Naileater had no choice but to obey. The tennis-racket, the golf club, the Panama and the sand-shoes were exchanged, respectively, for a morocco briefcase, a walking-stick with a gold handle, a grey topper and patent-leather pumps, and these accessories he was obliged to rush out and purchase without further ado, Saltiel being adamant. But in the matter of the lavallière, the gardenia and the pince-nez, Naileater stood firm, spoke bitterly of despotism, and complained that the intention was to impugn his honour. For the sake of peace, Saltiel gave in.
'Full steam ahead for the palace of delights and seat of greatness!' cried Naileater.
The cab drew up outside the front door of the Palais des Nations. Naileater got out first. Casually tossing a gold louis to the driver and showing the way to the rest of the Valiants, he strode into the entrance hall, empty now in early afternoon, and headed immediately for the lavatory. To the stupefaction of his cousins, he emerged moments later with the sash (First Class) of the Legion of Honour slung diagonally across his chest. To silence possible protests, he immediately set about neutralizing Saltiel.
'Behold! A
fait accompli!
No good losing your temper, it's too late now! You can't make a scene here, so you can't spoil my royal little game! Anyhow, my decoration is not only thoroughly deserved but is actually authentic, for it was bought in Paris, and a pretty penny it cost too, from a specialist outfitter's whither I secretly repaired before we left for Marseilles. So hold your peace, gentlemen, and put your best foot forward. Let he who is with me follow where I lead! Fall in behind the sash, red, First Class!'
On the first floor, Saulnier shot to his feet, dazzled by the sheer calibre of the sash, though he was well used to the strange fauna of exotic delegations. A head of state, President of some small South American republic, he thought, slightly taken aback however by the blue lavallière with white dots and the peculiar garb worn by members of the retinue. But the sash and the fear that he might put his foot in it outweighed all other considerations. So he forced a chilly smile and waited.
'A delegation,' said Naileater, twirling his gold-handled cane. 'Come to parley with the honourable Solal!'
'Your Excellency has an appointment? I take it you are expected, Mr President? (In reply, the Sash (First Class) merely gave a disdainful smile and twirled his cane in the opposite direction.) Who shall I say is calling, Your Excellency?'
'I am here incognito,' replied Naileater. 'Negotiations. Political secrets. It will be enough, O liveried underling, to give him the password, which is Cephalonia. Now go, make haste!' he barked, and the porter scurried off.
On his return, Saulnier, breathing heavily, informed His Excellency the President that the Under-Secretary-General, currently in a meeting with Monsieur Leon Blum, had requested His Excellency and the other gentlemen to be good enough to wait a few moments. He led the strange band into the small antechamber reserved for the use of distinguished visitors.
'But hear this, my good man. I shall wait no longer than five minutes,' said Naileater. 'It is a rule which I have always observed in my official life. Convey this intelligence to whomsoever it may concern.'
The moment the door closed, Saltiel raised the forefinger of authority and commanded the impostor to remove instanter the sash
to which he had no right. 'At once, knave!' Naileater gave a leering, sneering smile but did as he was told, for he sensed that the all-powerful nephew might not take too kindly to the sash (First Class), which, in any case, had already served its purpose. Besides, best not risk making difficulties with Leon Blum, whom he might be meeting shortly: as Prime Minister it was more than likely that he knew personally everyone who had been so honoured by France. He took off the sash, kissed it reverently, put it away in his pocket, and, with a wink at Saltiel, sat down.
'And now, gentlemen,' said Saltiel, 'let silence and good manners be your watchwords, for on the other side of that quilted door two great minds are even now discussing the happiness of mankind. So I do not want to hear a mouse stir or a pin drop!'
Awed by the splendour of the room, the Valiant fell silent. Solomon crossed his arms to show his good breeding. Michael cleaned his fingernails with the point of one of his daggers and did not protest when, feeling in need of a smoke, he had his cigarette snatched from his lips by a grimly silent Saltiel. Mattathias inspected the furniture, felt the wool in the carpet, and did sums in his head.
In the silence, Saltiel smiled. Perhaps Sol would introduce him to Monsieur Blum. If he did, and if the atmosphere were conducive, he would respectfully point out that workers in France really seemed to be going in for far too many strikes. He might even advise Monsieur Blum not to stay on too long as leader of the Cabinet, to avoid attracting jealousy and envy. Jews in politics should stay out of the limelight, it was safer. Minister, yes, but Prime Minister was too much. They'd have their turn later when, God willing, Israel was reborn. Be that as it may, he was soon to see Sol in his magnificent office, and, who knows, perhaps Sol might even bark a few orders down the telephone in full sight of the admiring cousins. He glanced up at them with a delicate, affectionate smile as he sat anticipating the imminent joy of being ushered into the presence. And, who knows, perhaps Sol would kiss his hand while the others watched in wonder. And so he mused on, while Solomon worked out a greeting in verse to recite when the moment came, and Naileater, less assured now that he was sashless, gave a series of nervous yawns which all ended in a squeak.
The door opened and the Valiant got to their feet. Solomon forgot his greeting in verse and the hand of Saltiel was indeed kissed. Whereupon the tiny old man took out a squared handkerchief and blew his nose in it, feeling weak at the knees. Sol gestured them to sit, and the Cephalonians sat down, Solomon feeling quite overcome by the softness of his armchair, which almost swallowed him whole.
'Good discussion was it, Sol, with the Prime Minister?' enquired Saltiel after a brief clearing of the throat.
'We talked of state secrets which I am not at liberty to divulge,' said Solal, who knew exactly which answer would go down best.
'Quite right, O High Excellency,' said Naileater, eager to contribute his pennyworth and be seen in a good light. 'If I may say so with all due deference, quite right.'
'And tell me, Sol, you and the Prime Minister parted on good terms?'
'We embraced.'
His uncle feigned deafness to make him say it again, so as to be quite sure that all present had heard. He coughed and observed the effect on the four shining faces of the Valiant.
'So you and the Prime Minister embraced, did you? Very good. Very good indeed,' he said loudly for the benefit of Mattathias, who was sometimes a little hard of hearing. 'And tell me, my boy: the Vatican City. It seems to me to be very small, quite insignificant, and I am grieved for His Excellency the Pope, who looks a kindly sort of man. Couldn't the League of Nations see its way to making his patch just a tiny bit bigger? I mean to say, he is a sovereign prince after all. I raise the matter so that you might give it a little thought as and when. You see, I feel a great warmth for His Holiness. Anyhow, if you were able to do something, it would be a good deed well done. Well now, son, so you, as I learned yesterday, have been made a Commander by Leopold II, Leopold the Opulent, he of the Congo. I forgot to mention it, gentlemen,' he said, turning to the silent cousins. 'Which means you are twice a Commander, once for the French and once for the Belgians. I have always had a great respect for Belgium, a country distinguished by great common sense. By the by, my boy,' he added, affecting an air of innocence, 'has the President of the Republic by any chance recently offered you something in the Legion of Honour higher than Commander? No? How very odd. But there, I never did much like his face.'
When Solal wondered if they might wish to partake of some refreshment, Saltiel suggested a small black coffee, if it was not too much trouble. Solomon was bold enough to say that he liked strawberry cordial, then, red with shame, dabbed at his forehead with a handkerchief. Michael stated his preference, which was for the yolks of two eggs beaten up in cognac. First parking his gum on the arm of his chair, Mattathias said he was not thirsty but would accept the equivalent in cash and buy himself a drink in town later.
'And for my part, Highness,' said Naileater, 'I require, with all due deference, very little. A couple of slices of cooked ham, which is the pure and Jewish part of the pig. With a blot of mustard and soft rolls, if it can be managed.'
'Pay no attention to these unschooled morons!' cried Saltiel, who could contain himself no longer. 'O cursed crew! O men of little breeding! From what manner of mannerless mothers did you spring? Where do you think you are? In a station buffet or some tavern? Sol, if you can find it in your heart to forgive them, a small coffee for each and nothing else! (With arms crossed and feeling perfectly at home, he glared at each of the uncouth cousins in turn.) Strawberry cordial, indeed! Egg yolks! Equivalent in cash! As for this other unspeakable oaf! Wanting ham, like some Freemason!'
'O tiger-hearted uncle,' muttered Naileater. 'A harmless, inconsequential
petit dejeuner
and he takes it out of my mouth!'
A few moments later, Miss Wilson - to whom Solal had seen fit to introduce the Valiant, with all due ceremony and a detailed explanation of how exactly they were all related - set down five cups of coffee in front of these shocking visitors and went out without saying a word, more bottomlessly strait-laced than ever, so bottomless and so straight in fact that Naileater went so far as to ask, in the case of so obvious a virgin, which was the front of her and which the back. At this, Saltiel withered him with a look. This was the very last time that he'd bring this hell-hound to respectable places! The hell-hound, encouraged by the way Solal smiled, crossed his legs to show a quick flash of patent-leather pump, sniffed at his gardenia, stroked his beard, which left his fingers black, and began to speak.