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As he entered New York Harbor o n the now slow-moving
ship, Karl Rossmann, a seventeen-year-old youth who had been
sent to America by his poor parents because a servant girl had
seduced him and borne a child by him, saw the Statue of Lib­
erty, which he had been observing for some time, as if in a sud­
den burst of sunlight. The arm with the sword now reached
aloft, and about her figure blew the free winds.
" So high , " he said to himself, and although he still had no
thoughts of leaving, he found himself being pushed gradually
toward the rail by an ever-swel ling throng of porters.
In passing a young man whom he knew from the voyage
said: " So you don't feel like getting off yet ? " "Oh, I ' m ready all
right," said Karl with a laugh, and in his exuberance, sturdy
lad that he was, he lifted his trunk up on his shoulders. But
looking out over his acquaintance, who swung his walking stick
several times as he set off with the other passengers, he real­
ized that he had forgotten his umbrella below deck. Quickly he
asked his acquaintance, who seemed not at all pleased, whether
he would be so kind as to wait there for a moment with his
trunk, surveyed the scene quickly so he could find his bearings
on his return, and hurried off. Downstairs he was disappointed
to find a passageway that would have certainly shortened his
path blocked off for the first time, probably on account of all
those disembarking passengers, and was obliged to make his
way laboriously through numerous small rooms, corridors that
constantly turned off, many short stairs in rapid succession and
an empty room with an abandoned desk, until at last, having
gone that way only once or twice and always in company, he
had quite lost his way. In his uncertainty, not encountering
a soul and hearing only the constant scraping of a thousand
human feet above him, and from a distance like a last gasp the
final workings of the engine being shut down, he began with­
out further reflection to knock at random on a little door
before which he had halted. " It's open," cried a voice from
within and, sighing with genuine relief, Karl stepped into the
cabin. "Why do you have to bang on the door like a mad­
man ? " a huge man asked, almost without looking at Karl.

Through a skylight somewhere a dull light, already expended
on the upper decks, fel l into the miserable cabin, where a bed,
a closet, a chair, and the man were packed side by side, as if
in storage. " I've lost my way, " said Karl, " on the voyage over
I never really noticed what a terribly big ship this is." " Yes,
you're right, " the man said with a certain pride as he tinkered
with the lock on a small suitcase, which he opened and closed
continually with both hands, listening for the bolt to snap into
place. " But do come in," the man continued, " you're hardly
going to stand there like that. " "Am 1 not disturbing you ? " Karl
asked. " How could you disturb me ? " "Are you a German ? "
Karl sought t o assure himself, for h e had heard a great deal
about the dangers facing newcomers in America, especially from
Irishmen. " Yes, yes," said the man. Karl continued to hesitate.
Suddenly the man seized the door handle and pulled Karl into
the cabin along with the door, which he promptly shut. "I sim­
ply can't stand having people stare in at me from the corridor, "
the man said, toying with his trunk again. "Everyone who walks
by looks in; who could possibly stand that? " " But the corridor
is completely empty, " said Karl, who was pressed uncomfort-
ably against the bedpost. "It i s now, " said the man. When else
but now ? thought Karl. It's not easy talking to this man. " Lie
down on the bed, that'll give you a bit more room," said the
man. Karl crawled in as best he could, laughing loudly at his
initially futile attempt to swing himself onto the bed. No sooner
was he lying down than he cried: " Oh, my goodness, I forgot all
a bout my trunk." "Well, where is it? " " Up on deck, an acquain­
tance of mine is keeping an eye on it. Let me see, his name
is . . . ? " From the secret pocket his mother had attached to the
lining of his coat, Karl drew a visiting card: " Butterbaum,
Franz Butterbaum." "Do you really need the trunk ? " " O f
course I do. " "Then w h y d i d you give it to a stranger? " " I had
forgotten my umbrella below deck, so I ran to get it, but didn't
want to drag along my trunk. And then I got lost. " " You're
alone ? Unaccompanied ? " " Yes, I'm alone. " Perhaps I should
stick with this man-thought Karl-for where else could I find
a better friend j ust now ? "And you've lost your trunk too. Not
to mention your umbrella," and the man sat down on the chair
as though he had begun to take an interest in Karl's affair. " But
I don't believe that my trunk is lost. " " Blessed are those who
believe," said the man, giving his thick short dark hair a vigor­
ous scratching. "People's conduct on board ship varies from
one port to the next; in Hamburg your friend Butterbaum
might have looked after your trunk, but here both will proba­
bly disappear without a trace . " "Well, in that case I'll have to
check up on deck at once , " said Karl, looking around for a way
out. " Stay, " the man said and, putting his hand on Karl's chest,
pushed him roughly back onto the bed. " But why ? " asked
Karl, who had become annoyed. " It makes no sense," said the
man. " I'll be leaving in a moment, and we can go together.
Either the trunk has been stolen, in which case it's hopeless and
you can moan about it till the end of your days, or that person
is still looking after it, in which case he's an idiot and should
keep on looking after it, or else he's j ust an honest man who
has left the trunk there, and it'll be easier to find if we wait till
the ship has emptied out completely. The same goes for your
umbrella . " "Do you know your way around the ship ? " Karl
asked suspiciously, for he believed there must be some hidden
flaw in the otherwise convincing notion that his belongings
could be more easily found when the ship was empty. " But I'm
a stoker, " said the man. " You are a stoker, " Karl cried with
delight, as if this announcement surpassed all his expectations,
and propping up on his elbows, he took a closer look at the
man. " One could see into the engine room through a hatch
next to the cabin in which I slept in with the Slovaks." " Yes,
that's where I worked," said the stoker. " I've always been very
interested in technology," said Karl, following his own train of
thought, " and would no doubt have eventually become an
engineer if I hadn't had to go away to America. " " But why did
you have to go awa y ? " "Ah well ! " said Karl, dismissing the
entire affair with a wave of his hand. At the same time he
smiled at the stoker as though seeking indulgence concerning
matters that he had not disclosed. " But there must have been a
reason, " said the stoker, and one could not tell whether he was
requesting a n explanation or attempting to forestall one. "I too
could become a stoker, " said Karl, " my parents no longer care
what I do. " "There'll be an opening for my job," said the
stoker, and basking in this knowledge, he put his hands in his
trouser pockets and stretched out by swinging his legs, which
were clad in creased leatherlike iron-gray trousers, onto the
bed. Karl had to move closer to the wall. " You're leaving
ship ? " " O h yes, we're marching off today." " But why ? Don't
you like it here ? " "Well, that's j ust how it is; one's own prefer­
ences aren't always taken into account. Besides, you're right, I
don't like it here. In any case, you're probably not completely
set on becoming a stoker, though that's actually when it's most
likely to happen. S o I strongly advise against it. I f you wanted
to study in Europe, why wouldn't you want to study here ? The
American universities are, of course, incomparably better. "
"That may wel l be so," said Karl, " but I've barely any money
to pay for my studies. I once read about someone who worked
for a business by day and studied at night till he became a
doctor and then, I believe, a mayor. But that takes great perse­
verance, doesn't it? And that's something I'm afraid I lack.
Besides, I wasn't an especially good student, and it wasn't that
hard for me to leave school. And the schools over here may be
even stricter. I know hardly any English. In any case people
here are often very prejudiced against foreigners. " "So you've
already run into this too ? In that case everything is fine. Then
you're my man. You see, we're on a German ship, it belongs to
the Hamburg Amerika Line, so why aren't all of us here Ger­
mans ? Why is the chief machinist a Romanian? His name is
Schubal . It's really incredible. And that scoundrel mistreats us
Germans on a German ship. Now I don't want you to get the
idea "-he was out of breath now and fanned himself with his
hand-"that I'm complaining for the sake of complaining. I
know you've no influence and are only a poor little fel low. But
this is too awfu l . " And he pounded several times on the table,
keeping his eyes on his fist as he did so. "I've served on so many
ships"-he reeled off twenty names as if they were a single word;
Karl became very confused-" made my mark, got praised, all
of the captains greatly appreciated my work, and even spent
several years serving on the same merchant vessel. " He stood
up as if this were the high point in his life-"and here on this
tub, where everything is kept on such a tight leash, where one
may not even j oke around-I'm useless, always get in Schubal's
way, am simply a lazybones who deserves to be thrown out,
and am paid only out of pity. Can you understand that ? I cer­
tainly can't . " " You shouldn't stand for it, " Karl said in an agi-
tated voice. So at home did he feel on the stoker's bed that he
had almost lost the feeling that he stood on the uncertain
ground of a ship moored off the coast of an unfamiliar conti­
nent. " Have you been to the captain? Have you sought to
obtain your rights from him ? " " Oh go away, j ust go away. I
don't want you here. You don't listen to what I have to say and
then try to give me advice. How could I possibly go to the cap­
tai n ? " And the stoker sat down wearily, burying his face i n
both hands. " I couldn't have given h i m a n y better advice , " Karl
said to himself. And it occurred to him that he should have
fetched his trunk rather than remain here and make sugges­
tions only to hear them dismissed as stupid. On entrusting him
with the trunk, his father had asked him in j est: How long will
you hang on to it? And now that expensive trunk was perhaps
lost. The only consolation was that his father would not dis­
cover anything about his present circumstances, even if he were
to make inquiries. All the shipping company could say was that
he had reached New York. Karl did regret, though, that he had
barely made use of the belongings in the suitcase, especially
since he should have changed his shirt sometime ago. So he had
been economizing in the wrong places; now, at the outset of his
new career, precisely when he needed to appear i n clean clothes,
he would have to turn up in a dirty shirt. What wonderful pros­
pects! Otherwise the loss of the trunk wouldn't have been so
bad, since the suit he wore was better than the one in the trunk,
which was meant only for emergencies and had been patched
by his mother shortly before he left. He remembered now that
there was stil l a piece of Veronese salami in the trunk, which his
mother had packed in as an extra present, but of which he had
eaten only the tiniest portion, for he had not had much of an
appetite during the voyage and the soup handed out in steerage
had more than sufficed. He would have liked to get his hands
on the sausage so that he could bequeath it to the stoker. For
one could gain the confidence o f such people quite easily, merely
by slipping them a little something; Karl knew this from his
father, who had gained the confidence of all the lower-ranking
employees he dealt with by handing out cigars. All that remained
for Karl to give away was a little money, but now that he had
perhaps lost his trunk, he did not want to touch that for the
moment. His thoughts returned to the trunk, and he could no
longer understand why he had even bothered to keep such
close watch over his trunk that he had barely slept, only to let
somebody relieve him of it so easily. He recalled the five nights
he had lain in bed always suspecting that a little Slovak two
beds away had his eyes on the trunk. That Slovak had awaited
the moment when Karl would at last succumb to weakness and
doze off so that he would then be a ble to take the long stick,
with which he had played or possibly practiced all day, and pull
the trunk over to his bed . By day the Slovak looked fairly inno­
cent, but when darkness fel l he would rise occasionally from
his bed and look over at Karl's trunk with a mournful expres­
sion on his face. Karl could observe this very clearly, for there
was always someone prey to an emigrant's unease who would
turn on a little light---ev en though the ship's regulations ex­
pressly forbade this-and attempt to decipher the incompre­
hensible brochures put out by the emigration agencies. If there
was such a light nearby, Karl could doze off for a while, but
if it was some distance away or the room was dark, he had
to keep his eyes open. These exertions had left him quite ex­
hausted. And had perhaps been in vain. Woe betide that Butter­
baum, should he ever run into him again !
Just then, interrupting the perfect silence, came the sound of
short little taps, as of children's feet approaching from afar; as
they came closer, the sound grew louder and was now that of
steadily marching men. They seemed to advance in single file,
as was only natural i n this narrow passageway; one could hear
a clashing as of weapons. About to stretch out in bed and fall
asleep, freed at last from all concerns about trunks and Slo­
vaks, Karl gave a start and nudged the stoker so as to alert him,
since the head of the procession appeared to have reached the
door. " It's the ship's band , " said the stoker. "They've played up
on deck and are going inside to pack. Everything's ready, so we
can leave. Come on. " Taking Karl by the hand, he at the last
moment seized a picture of the Madonna from the wall above
his bed, stuffed it into his breast pocket, grabbed his trunk, and
left the cabin quickly with Karl.
"I'm going to the office to give these gentlemen a piece of my
mind. There's nobody around anymore, so it's no longer neces­
sary to watch what one says, " the stoker said repeatedly, using
a variety of formulations, and without breaking stride gave
a few side kicks to flatten a rat that had crossed his path, but
he merely succeeded in driving it even more quickly into its
hole, which it reached j ust in time. Besides, his movements
were slow, for though he had very long legs, they nonetheless
weighed him down.
They passed through a section of the kitchen where some
girls in dirty aprons-which they wet deliberately-were wash­
ing dishes in great tubs. The stoker called over a certain Line,
put his arm around her hips, and as she pressed coquettishly
against his arm, swept her along for a moment. " It's payday,
you want to come along ? " he asked. "Why should I bother,
you can bring me my money," she replied, and, slipping out
from under his arm, ran off. "So where did you pick up that
pretty boy, " she cried out again, without expecting a reply. One
could hear laughter from all of the girls, who had interrupted
their work.
Nevertheless they continued on their way and soon reached
a door capped with a little pediment supported by small gilded
caryatids. As a fixture on a ship, it looked fairly extravagant.
Karl realized tha t h e had never entered this area, which was
probably reserved during the voyage for first- and second-class
passengers, but j ust before the great ship cleaning, the partition
doors had been taken down. Indeed, they had already encoun­
tered several men carrying brooms on their shoulders, who had
greeted the stoker. Karl marveled at the bustle; in steerage he
had for sure witnessed little of this. Also, there were electrical
cords strung along both sides of the corridor, and one could
hear a little bell ringing continuously.
The stoker knocked on the door respectfully, and when a
voice cried " Come in," he motioned to Karl that he should
enter without trepidation. He complied but did not advance far
beyond the door. Through the room's three windows Karl could
see the ocean waves, and as he watched their cheerful move­
ments, his heart began to beat more rapidly as though he had
not spent five long days gazing uninterruptedly at the sea. Large
ships crossed one another's paths, yielding to the rolling waves
only insofar as their weight permitted. If one narrowed one's
eyes, the ships seemed to rock under the pressure of their weight.
Upon their masts were narrow but elongated flags that, though
tautened by the ships' motion, still flapped to and fro. The sound
of gun salutes could be heard, probably from warships; as re­
flected on a glistening coat of steel the cannon barrels of one
such passing ship seemed almost coddled by its smooth, steady,
yet not-quite-straightforward progress through the waves. At
least from one's position by the door one could catch but a
distant glimpse of the huge number of small ships and boats
constantly slipping through the gaps between the large ships.
Behind all this, however, stood New York, gazing at Karl with
the hundred thousand windows of its skyscrapers. In this room
one knew where one was.
Sitting at a round table were three gentlemen, one an officer
in the blue uniform of the ship, the other two harbor authority
officials in black American uniforms. Piled high on the table
were various documents, which the ship's officer first skimmed,
pen in hand, before passing them to the other two, who now
read them, now copied out passages, now put them in their
briefcases, unless the official who made almost continuous lit­
tle grinding noises with his teeth happened to be dictating a
transcript to his colleague.
By a desk at the window, with his back to the door, sat a
smallish gentleman who was occupied with great folio ledgers,
which were lined up before him on a sturdy bookshelf at head
level. Beside him stood an open cash box, which-at least at
first glance-was empty.
The second window, which was vacant, afforded the best
view. At the third, however, stood two gentlemen, speaking in
undertones. One, leaning against the window and dressed in
the ship's uniform, toyed with the handle of his sword. His
interlocutor, who stood facing the window, moved a little now
and then, exposing the row of decorations on the other man's
chest. The latter wore civilian clothes and carried a small thin
bamboo stick that, owing to the way both hands rested on his
hips, stood out like a sword.
Karl had little time to gaze at everything, for before long an
attendant approached them, looked at the stoker as though he
did not belong there, and asked him what he wanted. Respond­
ing as softly as he had been asked, the stoker said that he
wished to speak to the chief bursar. The attendant dismissed
this request with a wave of his hand, but nonetheless, tiptoeing
in a wide arc around the circular table, he approached the gen­
tleman beside the folios. At last that gentleman, who, as one
could see quite clearly, almost froze on hearing the attendant's
words, looked around at the man who wished to speak to him,
dismissed the stoker with a vehement gesture and, j ust to be
sure, the attendant likewise. The latter returned to the stoker
and, as if imparting a confidence, said: " Get out at once ! "

Upon hearing these words, the stoker gazed down a t Karl, as
though Karl were a sweetheart to whom he was silently pour­
ing out his woes. Without further reflection Karl broke free,
ran straight across the room, and even brushed up against the
officer's chair; the servant ran after him, bent low, arms ready
to make a catch, as though chasing vermin, but Karl reached
the chief bursar's table first and clung to it in case the servant
should try to pull him away.
All of a sudden the entire room became animated. The ship's
officer j umped up from the table; the gentlemen from the port
authority watched, calmly but alertly; the two gentlemen at the
window now stood side by side; the attendant, believing his
presence was no longer required since even the distinguished
gentlemen were now taking an interest in the matter, stepped
aside. By the door the stoker waited intently for the moment
when his help should be needed again. And finally the chief
bursar in his armchair swiveled sharply to the right.
Karl rummaged through his secret pocket, which he had no
hesitation in showing to these people, took out his passport,
and rather than saying a few words by way of introduction,
simply laid it down open on the table. The chief bursar seemed
to attach little significance to the passport, for he flicked it
aside with two fingers, whereupon Karl put it away, as though
the formality had been satisfactorily resolved. "If 1 may say
so, " he began, "I believe that the stoker has been treated un­
j ustly. There's a certain 5chubal on board, who's been giving
him trouble. He's served in a most satisfactory manner on
many ships-he can give you their names-is diligent, does his
work in good faith, and so it's rather difficult to understand
how he could possibly be ill suited for a job on this particular
ship, where the work is not so exceedingly difficult as, say, on
merchant vessels. 50 those slanderous allegations are all that
stands between him and the advancement and recognition that
would otherwise be his due. I've addressed this matter only in
the most general terms, he himself will inform you about his
specific complaints. " Karl had directed his remarks at all of the
gentlemen, since everybody was indeed listening, and it seemed
much more likely that there should be a fair-minded person
in their midst than that the fair-minded one should happen
to be the chief bursar. Karl had, to be sure, neglected to men­
tion that he had not known the stoker long. Also, he would
have come up with an even better speech had he not been dis­
tracted by the red face of that gentleman with the little bamboo
stick, and indeed it was only now from this new vantage point
that he had first noticed him.
" It's all true, word for word, " said the stoker, before anyone
had asked him a question, let alone glanced in his direction.
The impulsiveness of the stoker would have been a grave mis­
take if the gentleman with the decorations-who, as Karl now
realized, was indeed the captain-had not already decided to
hear out the stoker. The captain reached out his hand and
called to the stoker: " Come here ! " in a voice so firm that one
could have almost hit it with a hammer. And now everything
depended on how the stoker conducted himself, for Karl had
no doubt about the j ustice of his case.
Fortunately, it soon became clear that the stoker was a man
who had seen a great deal of the world. With exemplary com­
posure he reached into his little suitcase and on his first attempt
pulled out a little bundle of papers and a notebook, and then,
as if this were the most obvious course of action, completely
ignoring the chief bursar, he went over to the captain and
spread out his evidence on the windowsill. The chief bursar
had no alternative but to j oin them. "That fellow is a notorious
crank," he said by way of explanation, " he spends more time
in the bursar's office than in the machine room and has driven
even Schubal, who's such a calm man, to despair. Now listen to
me once and for a ll ! " he said, addressing the stoker, " you've
been far too intrusive. How often have you been j ustifiably
thrown out of the disbursement rooms for continually making
such demands, which always turn out to be completely unrea­
sonable! How often have you run over from those rooms to the
main cash office! How often were you politely informed that
Schubal is your immediate superior and that you, as his subor­
dinate, must learn to live with him! And you even come in here
when the captain is present; you're not ashamed to disturb him
and dare to bring along this little fellow, whom you've taught
to reel off your fatuous accusations and whom I'm now seeing
for the first time on board. "
Karl had t o restrain himself from intervening. However, the
captain had already approached them and said: " But let's listen
to what the man has to say. In any case I think Schuba l has
become much too independent of late, though this doesn't nec­
essarily speak in your favor. " Those last words were directed at
the stoker; of course, it was only natural that the captain could
not take his side right away, but otherwise everything seemed
to be going wel l . The stoker launched into his explanations,
and, overcoming his reluctance, began by addressing Schubal
as "Mister. " This greatly pleased Karl, who stood by the chief
bursar's deserted desk, pressing the letter scales repeatedly in
sheer delight: Mr. SchubaJ.is unfair. Mr. Schubal gives preferen­
tial treatment to foreigners. Mr. Schubal banished the stoker
from the engine room and made him clean toilets, which was
certainly not his responsibility. At one point the stoker even
questioned the competence of Mr. Schubal, which was, he
claimed, more apparent than real. Whereupon Karl directed a
most intent look at the captain, assuming an engagingly colle­
gial expression merely so as to prevent such an awkward man­
ner of speaking from disposing the captain unfavorably toward
the stoker. There was indeed little enough to be gleaned from
the latter's many speeches, and although the captain continued
to stare into space with eyes that showed his determination to
hear out the stoker, the other gentlemen were becoming impa­
tient, and ominously enough, the stoker's voice no longer held
sway in the room. The gentleman in civilian clothes was the
first to move, stirring his little bamboo stick and tapping the
parquet floor with it, if ever so lightly. Every now and then
the other gentlemen glanced over; clearly in a hurry, the gentle­
men from the harbor authority returned to their files and began
to peruse them, if still rather absently; the ship's officer returned
to his position beside his table, and believing that he had car­
ried the day, the chief bursar heaved a great ironic sigh. The
only person who was evidently immune from this general dis­
traction was the attendant, who could at least partially sympa­
thize with the sorrows of a poor man who had suddenly been
set down amid the mighty, and who nodded gravely at Karl, as
though wishing to explain something.
Meanwhile, beyond the windows, the life of the harbor went
on: a flat cargo ship transporting a huge pile of barrels, which
must have been marvelously well stacked to prevent their roll­
ing about, passed by, plunging the room into almost complete
darkness; little motorboats, which Karl could have observed
more closely if only he had had the time, rushed straight ahead,
guided by the jerking hand of a man who stood erect at the
steering wheel; now and then peculiar floating obj ects bobbed
up from the choppy waters of their own accord, only to be
quickly covered and to sink before one's startled eyes; perspir­
ing sailors rowed away from ocean steamers in boats filled with
passengers who remained seated expectantly, mostly in silence,
in the same seats into which they had been pressed, although
some could not refrain from turning their heads to gaze at the
changing scenery. There was endless motion, and unrest borne
from the restless element to helpless men and their works.
But although everything cried out for haste, clarity, and the
most precise description, what did the stoker d o ? He had cer­
tainly talked himself into a sweat and was no longer able to
hold the papers on the windowsill in his trembling hands; he
kept thinking of new complaints about Schubal from every
conceivable angle, each of which would, he believed, have suf­
ficed to demolish Schubal, although he had managed to give
the captain only a pathetic mishmash of all that. For some
time now the gentleman with the little bamboo stick had been
whistling softly at the ceiling; the gentlemen from the harbor
authority had detained the officer at their table and gave no
sign that they were about to release him; only the composure
shown by the captain made the chief bursar refrain from burst­
ing in, as he longed to do. The attendant, who stood at atten­
tion, awaited an imminent order from his captain with regard
to the stoker.
Karl could no longer remain idle. So he walked slowly toward
the group, considering all the more quickly as he approached
how best to tackle the matter. It was truly high time-any
moment both could be sent flying from the office. The captain
might indeed be a good man and might especially now, Karl
thought, have a particular reason for wishing to show himself a
j ust superior, but in the end he was not merely an instrument
one could go on playing until it fell apart-and that was pre­
cisely how the stoker was treating him, though of course only
out of the boundless indignation of his heart.
So Karl said to the stoker: " You must speak more simply,
and more clearly too; the captain cannot understand your story
because of the way you're telling it. Can he really be so utterly
familiar with all of the family names, let alone the first names,
of the machinists and the messengers that you need only give
somebody's name and he wil l know at once whom you mean?
Organize your complaints, start off with the most important
followed by the rest, and then you may never have to mention
the greater part of them. After all, you've always given m e such
clear explanations of everything . " If one can steal trunks in
America, one can also tell a lie every now and then, he thought
to himself by way of excuse.
If only it had helped! Might it be too late ? On hearing that
familiar voice, the stoker broke off in spite of the fact that he
could hardly even recognize Karl, for his eyes were filled with
tears, tears of wounded male honor, of dreadful memories, and
of his extreme current distress. But how-the thought occurred
to Karl, who had fallen silent, as he stood facing the now
equally silent stoker-but how was he all of a sudden supposed
to change the way he spoke, especially since he believed he had
already brought up everything that needed to be said without
obtaining even the slightest acknowledgment, and as if on the
other hand he had still not said anything and could hardly
expect the gentlemen to listen to everything all over again? And
at that very moment along comes Karl.
"If only I had come sooner instead of gazing out that win­
dow, " Karl said to himself, and, lowering his head in front of
the stoker, he slapped the seams of his trousers to signal the end
of all hope.
However, possibly sensing that Karl harbored furtive re­
proaches against him, the stoker misunderstood the gesture
and, with the praiseworthy intention of getting Karl to change
his mind, crowned his deeds by picking a fight. And did so
j ust now, when the gentlemen at the round table had become
annoyed at the useless noise distracting them from their im­
portant work, when the chief bursar had finally found the
captain's patience incomprehensible and was tempted to erupt
there and then, when the servant, now back in his masters'
sphere, was sizing up the stoker with wild looks, and finally,
when the gentleman holding the little bamboo stick-even
the captain cast friendly glances at him every now and then-
having become completely deadened to the stoker and even
disgusted by him, took out a small notebook, and, evidently
preoccupied with entirely different matters, let his eyes wander
back and forth between his notebook and Karl.
" Yes, I know, I know, " said Karl, who had difficulty ward­
ing off the torrent of words that the stoker now directed at
him; yet amid all the strife he still managed to spare a smile for
him. " You're right, quite right, I never had the slightest doubt
about it. " Anxious about blows, Karl would have liked to
catch the stoker's flailing hands or, better still, push him into a
corner so as to whisper in his ear a few soft, soothing words,
which no one else needed to hear. But the stoker had already
gone berserk. Karl even began to draw a certain comfort from
the thought that the stoker could in a pinch overpower all
seven men in this room through the sheer force of his despair.
In any case, as a quick glance at the desk showed, it had a panel
for the electric current with far too many buttons on it, and a
single hand pressing down on them could make the entire ship,
and all its passageways fi lled with hostile people, rise up in
rebellion.
The seemingly indifferent gentleman with the little bamboo
stick then approached Karl, and asked quite softly, though
loudly enough to be clearly overheard over the shouting from
the stoker: "So what's your name ? " At that moment, as if some­
one had waited behind the door until the gentleman uttered
those words, there was a knock. In response the servant looked
at the captain; the latter nodded. Whereupon the servant went
to the door and opened it. In an old imperial frock coat stood a
man of medium build, who judging by his appearance was not
especially cut out for working with machines, yet it was indeed
Schubal. Had Karl not been able to gather as much from the
hint of satisfaction in everyone's eyes, to which not even the
captain was immune, he would inevitably, and much to his dis-
may, have recognized it in the posture of the stoker, who had
clenched his fists at the end of his stiffened arms, as if this
clenching were paramount, and as if he were prepared to sacri­
fice his entire life for its sake. All of his strength was concen­
trated there, even that which held him erect.
And so there stood the enemy, looking sovereign and fresh in
his fancy suit, with an account book under his arm, probably
the stoker's pay dockets and work records, and-without mak­
ing the slightest effort to conceal that his foremost desire was
to gauge everyone's mood-he looked each person in the eye,
one by one. All seven were his friends, for even if the captain
had had reservations about him earlier or had perhaps merely
feigned to have had, after all the trouble the stoker had caused
him, he would surely no longer have the slightest objection to
Schubal . One could not be sufficiently severe with a man such
as the stoker, and if Schubal could be reproached in any way
it was for not having succeeded over time in reining in the
stoker's obstinacy well enough to ensure that he would not
have the audacity to appear before the captain as he had j ust
done.
Well, perhaps one could stil l assume that the effect that this
j uxtaposition of the stoker and Schubal would have on a higher
forum would not be lost on human beings, for even if Schubal
managed to put on a sham, he could not necessarily keep it up
indefinitely. His vileness need only peek through for a moment,
and the gentlemen would notice it; Karl would make sure that
would happen. After all, he had more than a passing acquain­
tance with the shrewdness, weaknesses, and moods of the vari­
ous gentlemen, and so at least from that point of view, the time
he had spent here had not been wasted. If the stoker had only
stood his ground, but he seemed absolutely unable to fight.
Had they dangled Schubal before him, he might have taken his
fist and split that hated skull, like a thin-shelled nut. But even
those few steps toward Schubal would probably be beyond him.
Why had Karl not foreseen something s o easily foreseen,
namely, that Schubal would finally be obliged to come, if not
on his own initiative then on a summons from the captain ?
Why hadn't he devised a precise battle plan as he walked over
with the stoker instead of entering mercilessly unprepared sim­
ply because there was a door there? Could the stoker still speak,
say yes and no, as he would be required to do in the cross­
examination that would take place only if everything turned
out for the best. The stoker stood there, legs apart, knees
slightly bowed, head raised slightly, and the air went in and out
of his open mouth as if he had no lungs left inside to handle his
breathing.
Still, Karl felt stronger and more alert than he had perhaps
ever felt at home. If only his parents could have seen him
defending a good cause before respected figures in a foreign
land, and even if he had stil l not achieved victory, he was fully
prepared to embark on the final conquest. Would they change
their mind about him ? Set him down between them and praise
him? And then once, only once, take a look into these eyes,
eyes that were so devoted to them? What uncertain questions,
and what an inappropriate moment to be asking them!
" I've come because I think the stoker is accusing me of some
kind of dishonesty. A girl from the kitchen told me she had seen
him heading this way. Captain, all you gentlemen, I'm ready to
refute each such accusation by drawing on my papers and, if
necessary, on statements from independent and impartial wit­
nesses, who are standing outside. " Those were Schubal's words.
He had certainly given a clear, manly speech, and one might
have assumed from the changed expressions on his audience's
faces that it had been quite some time since they had last heard
a human voice. So of course they failed to notice that this fine
speech had a few holes in it. Why was " d ishonesty" the first
pertinent word he came up with ? Wouldn't it have been better
to start off with that accusation rather than with his national is-
tic prej udices ? A girl from the kitchen had seen the stoker going
toward the office, and Schubal had immediately understood
what was going on ? Mustn't his wits have been sharpened by
guilt? And hadn't he brought along witnesses and even called
them unprejudiced and impartial. It was a scam, nothing but a
scam, and weren't the gentlemen not only tolerating it but even
recognizing it as proper conduct? Why had he let so much time
slip by after being told by the kitchen girl, if not simply to let
the stoker wear down the gentlemen and thereby ensure that
they would slowly lose their ability to make clear judgments,
from which Schubal had most to fear? After standing outside
the door, no doubt for some time, had he not waited to knock
until after the gentleman had asked that trivial question and he
could with good reason hope that the stoker had already been
dispatched ?
All this was very clear and indeed that is how Schubal had
presented it, quite against his will, but one had to tell the story
to the gentlemen in a different way, even more explicitly. They
had to be given a j olt. So get moving, Karl, and at least take
advantage of the time before the witnesses enter and inundate
everything.
Just then, however, the captain waved away Schubal , who
stepped aside at once-for his affair seemed to have been put
off for a while-and, turning to the servant, who had j ust
j oined him, he began a muttered conversation, underscored by
the most emphatic gestures and frequent sidelong glances at the
stoker and at Karl. Schubal seemed to be preparing in this way
for his next great speech.
" Mr. Jakob, wasn't there something you wanted to ask this
young man ? " the captain said to the gentleman with the bam­
boo stick amid general silence.
" Certainly," said the latter, thanking the captain for his
attentiveness with a little bow. And he reiterated the question
that he had asked Karl: "So what's your name ? "

Karl, who believed that the important matter a t stake could
be best served by getting rid of this stubborn questioner as
quickly as possible, answered briefly, without, as was his cus­
tom, introducing himself by producing his passport, which he
would in any case have first needed to find: " Karl Rossmann. "
" But," said the man who had been addressed a s Jakob,
smiling almost incredulously, and he withdrew a few steps. On
hearing Karl 's name, the captain, the chief bursar, the ship's
officer, and even the servant clearly showed excessive astonish­
ment. Only the gentlemen from the harbor authority and
Schubal responded with indifference.
" But, " repeated Mr. Jakob, approaching Karl with a rather
stiff gait, " but then I am indeed your uncle Jakob, and you are
my beloved nephew. Just as I suspected all along, " he said to
the captain before embracing and kissing Karl, who endured
this display of affection in silence.
Sensing that he had been released, Karl asked very politely yet
also quite unmoved: "What's your name ? " At the same time he
sought to predict the repercussions that this latest occurrence
might have for the stoker. There was no sign j ust now that
Schubal could profit from this affair.
" Try, young man, try to understand your good fortune,"
said the captain, who believed that the question that Karl had
asked had offended the dignity of Mr. Jakob, who had gone to
the window, evidently to avoid having to show his agitated
face, which he even dabbed with a handkerchief. "The man
who identified himself as your uncle is none other than State
Counselor Edward Jakob. Probably very much in contrast to
your previous expectations, you can now look forward to a
dazzling career. Try to understand this as well as you can right
now, and make an effort to pull yourself together. "
" I do have an uncle Jakob in America , " said Karl, turning to
the captain, " but if I understood you correctly, Jakob is j ust the
state counselor's family name. "
" Yes, that's quite true," said the captain expectantly.
"Well , Jakob, my mother's brother, has Jakob as a baptismal
name whereas his family name would have to be identical to
my mother's, and her maiden name is Bendelmayer. "
" Gentlemen! " cried the state counselor, responding to Karl's
statement as he returned in good spirits from his refuge by the
window. Everyone, aside from the harbor officials, burst out
laughing, some as if moved, others rather inscrutably.
What I said wasn't all that ridiculous, Karl thought.
" Gentlemen , " the state counselor repeated, " you're taking
part in a little family scene, and I owe you an explanation,
since I believe that only the captain"-this remark led to an
exchange of bows-" has been fully informed about this . "
" Now I'll really have t o pay attention t o every word they
say," Karl said to himself, and he was pleased to see from a side
glance that the stoker was beginning to show signs of life again.
"Throughout all the long years of my American soj ourn­
but the word
sojourn hardly suits the American citizen that I
certainly am with all my soul-throughout all those long years
I have lived completely cut off from my European relatives for
reasons that are, first, beside the point and, second, too painful
to disclose. I even fear the moment when I shall be compelled
to disclose them to my dear nephew, for there's unfortunately
no way I can avoid saying a few frank words about his parents
and their kin. "
"He is my uncle, there's no doubt about it," Karl said to
himself, and he listened carefully. " He probably had his name
changed. "
" My dear nephew was simply-let'S not shy away from the
word that really describes what happened-was simply cast
aside by his parents, the way one throws out a cat when it
becomes annoying. I certainly don't want to gloss over what
my nephew did to merit that kind of punishment-one doesn't
gloss over things in America-but his guilt i s such that merely
identifying it is excuse enough. "
That's not bad a t all, Karl thought. But I don't want him
telling everyone. Besides, how can he know? Who could have
told him ? But we'll see, maybe he does know everything.
"He was, you see"-Karl's uncle continued, and as he spoke
he kept tilting forward a little on his smal l bamboo stick, which
he had propped up before him, thereby managing to relieve the
affair of a certain solemnity it would otherwise have assumed­
" he was, you see, seduced by Johanna Brummer, a servant girl,
who's about thirty-five years old. In using the word
seduced, I
certainly don't wish to hurt my nephew, but it's hard to come
up with a term that's j ust as apt . "
Karl, who h a d moved close t o h i s uncle, turned around to
gauge the impact of the story from the expressions of all present.
Nobody laughed, everyone listened patiently and in earnest.
Well, one doesn't laugh at the nephew of the state counselor the
first time one gets a chance to do so. But the stoker seemed to
be smiling at Karl, even if only faintly, which was, first, a wel­
come new sign of life and, second, excusable, for this matter
which now was being discussed so openly was one that earlier
in the cabin Karl had sought to keep a special secret.
"Well, this Brummer woman, " his uncle continued, " had a
child by my nephew, a healthy boy, who was given the name
Jakob at baptism, no doubt in honor of my humble self, and
even though any references to me could only have been very
casual they must nonetheless have left a big impression on the
girl. And I'd say that was quite fortunate. For to avoid paying
child support or whatever part of the scandal touched them
directly-and here I should emphasize that I have no knowl­
edge of the laws there nor of his parents' circumstances in other
respects, and that everything I know comes from two begging
letters I received from his parents a number of years ago, which
I kept but never answered, and this was the only, and naturally
one-sided, correspondence I've had with them the entire time­
well, to avoid those child support payments and the whole
scandal, his parents shipped off their son, my dear nephew, to
America and, as one can see, made such inadequate and indeed
irresponsible provision for him that if the boy had been left to
fend for himself in this manner-leaving aside the omens and
wonders one can still encounter, especially here in America-he
would no doubt have gone to seed quickly in some alleyway or
other in New York Harbor if the servant girl hadn't given me a
complete account along with a description of my nephew and
also, very cleverly, the ship's name in a letter that after various
lengthy detours reached me only the day before yesterday. If
my main intention was to entertain you, gentlemen, there are
several passages in this letter"-from his pocket he drew two
enormous sheets of paper filled with cramped writing and waved
them about-"that I could certainly read aloud. It would defi­
nitely leave an impression on you, for it is written with a rather
artless, if always well-meant, cunning and with much love for
the father of her child. But I don't wish to entertain you more
than is necessary for the sake of clarification; nor do I wish to
hurt any feelings my nephew may still have for the girl, espe­
cially j ust as he's being made welcome here; if he wishes, he
may for his edification read this letter in the quiet of his room,
which is now ready to receive him . "
Karl, however, had n o feelings for that girl. Amid the crush
of a past that he had pushed back ever further, she sat in the
kitchen beside the cabinet, with her elbows resting on the coun­
tertop. She would look at him when he went to the kitchen to
fetch a glass of water for his father or to run an errand for his
mother. Sometimes she would be sitting beside the cabinet in
that same awkward position, writing a letter and drawing
inspiration from Karl's face. Sometimes she would hide her
eyes with her hand, and then n o greeting could reach her.
Sometimes she would be kneeling in her narrow little room
next to the kitchen, praying to a wooden cross, and at such
moments when he walked past, Karl would merely watch her
timidly through the slightly open door. Sometimes she would
race around the kitchen, and whenever Karl happened to get in
her way, she would shrink back, breaking out in witchlike
laughter. Sometimes she would close the kitchen door after
Karl had entered and keep her hand on the knob until he asked
for permission to leave. Sometimes she would fetch things that
he did not even want and press them into his hands without
saying a word. On one occasion, however, she said " Karl ! " and
then, grimacing and moaning, led Karl, who was still aston­
ished at being addressed by his first name, into her little room,
which she locked behind her. She put her arms around his neck
and seized it in a stranglehold, and though she had asked him
to undress her, it was she who undressed him and put him in
her bed, as if she would never surrender him to anyone else and
wanted to go on stroking him and caring for him until the end
of the world. " Karl, oh my Karl , " she cried, as if she could see
him and was confirming that she now had possession of him,
whereas he could see nothing and felt uncomfortable under the
many warm bedclothes that she had evidently heaped up espe­
cially for him. Then she lay down beside him and wanted him
to tell her secrets, but he had none to tell, and she became
annoyed, whether j okingly or in earnest, shook him, listened to
his heart, offered him her breast so that he too could listen but
could not induce Karl to do so, pressed her naked belly against
his body, searched between his legs with her hand-in such a
revolting manner that Karl shook his head and throat out from
under the quilts-then pushed her belly up against him several
times; it felt as if she were part of him; hence perhaps the terri­
ble helplessness that overcame him. In tears, after listening to
repeated wishes that they should meet again, he reached his
bed. There was no more to it than that, but his uncle still man­
aged to make a big thing of it. So the cook had actually thought
about him and had let his uncle know he was coming. That was
good of her, and at some point he might well repay her.
"And now, " cried the senator, " I want you to tell me frankly
whether I'm your uncle or not. "
" You are my uncle," said Karl, kissing his uncle's hand and
in turn receiving kisses on the forehead. "I'm very pleased to
have met you, but you're mistaken if you think my parents said
nothing but bad things about you. But even aside from that,
your speech did have a couple of mistakes in it; for instance, 1
don't really think that's how everything happened. Also, you
can't gauge things that well from over here; besides, it'll be no
great harm if the gentlemen were slightly misinformed about
an affair that surely means little to them. "
"Well put, " said the senator, and leading Karl toward the
visibly sympathetic captain, he said: " Don't I have a splendid
nephew? "
"Mr. Senator, " said the captain, bowing i n a manner only
people with military training can carry off, "I'm happy to have
become acquainted with your nephew. It was a great honor
for my ship to have been chosen as the setting for such an
encounter. But your voyage in steerage must have been quite
dreadful; well, one can never tell who's being transported in
there. Even, for instance, the firstborn son of the top Hungar­
ian magnate-I've already forgotten his name and the reason
for his voyage-who made a crossing once in steerage. I only
found out about it much later. We do everything we can to
make the voyage easier for those in steerage, a lot more than,
say, the American lines, but we still haven't succeeded in mak­
ing such voyages pleasurable . "
" It d i d m e n o harm , " said Karl.
" It did him n o harm ! " the senator repeated, laughing very
loudly.
" But as for my trunk, I'm afraid I've lost . . . " And j ust then
it all came back to him, everything that had happened and
everything that stil l needed to be done, and looking about
him, he saw that every person in the room still stood in the
same position, silent in astonishment and respect, with their
eyes fixed on him. Only in the harbor officials could one see­
insofar as their severe, complacent faces revealed anything
whatsoever-that they regretted having come at such an incon­
venient moment and indeed they showed greater interest in the
watch lying in front of them than in anything going on in that
room and in anything that might still go on there.
Oddly enough, the first person after the captain to express
his good wishes was the stoker. " My heartfelt congratula­
tions," and he shook Karl's hand, thereby seeking to convey
something akin to appreciation also. Yet when he subsequently
attempted to address the same words to the senator, the latter
withdrew as if the stoker had overstepped his bounds; the
stoker immediately desisted.
The others, however, saw what was needed, and quickly
gathered about Karl and the senator in a clamoring mass. In
this way Karl even received Schubal's congratulations, which
he accepted and for which he in turn thanked Schubal. Finally,
the harbor officials j oined them, and amid the renewed silence,
said two words in English, which left a ridiculous impression.
Intent on savoring the occasion to the full, the senator
reminded himself and the others of the more incidental details,
which everybody not only tolerated but listened to raptly. He
observed that he had jotted down in his notebook a list of
Karl's most distinctive traits, as described in the cook's letter,
so that he could, if necessary, refer to it quickly. Then, while
the stoker kept up his intolerable chatter, he had pulled out
his notebook, simply as a little diversion, and playfully tried
to connect the cook's observations, the accuracy of which
would scarcely satisfy a detective's standards, with Karl's actual
appearance. "So this is how one finds one's nephew, " he con­
cluded, sounding as if he wished to be congratulated all over
agam.
"What wil l happen to the stoker? " asked Karl, ignoring his
uncle's last remark. In his new position he could, he believed,
say anything that crossed his mind.
"The stoker will get what he deserves," said the senator,
" and what the captain considers appropriate. Besides, I think
we've had enough of the stoker, more than enough, as I'm sure
all the other gentlemen will agree . "
" But that's beside the point when it's a matter of j ustice , "
said Karl. Karl stood between h i s uncle a n d t h e captain, and,
perhaps swayed by his vantage point, he believed that the deci­
sion now lay in his hands.
The stoker, however, seemed to have abandoned all hope.
His hands were half tucked into his trousers belt, which his agi­
tated movements had exposed along with the stripes of a pat­
terned shirt. This did not in the least bother him, for he had
finished complaining about his sorrows, and they should get to
see the pair of rags hanging from his body before they carried
him off. He imagined that the two lowest-ranking people in the
cabin, the servant and Schubal, would be the ones who were
supposed to do this last good deed for him. Then Schubal
would have some peace and wouldn't be driven to despair, as
the chief treasurer had put it. The captain could sign up an
all-Romanian crew, Romanian would be spoken throughout
the ship and everything might actually run more smoothly.
There would no longer be a stoker chattering away in the main
bursar's office, though they would remember his last bit of
chatter quite fondly, for, as the senator had specifically noted, it
had indirectly led to the moment when he had recognized
his nephew. Besides, the nephew had thanked him adequately
long before that wonderful moment of recognition; the stoker
wouldn't even think of asking Karl for anything else. In any
case, even if he was the captain's nephew, he certainly wasn't
the captain himself, and in the end the harsh words would
come from the captain's lips.-In keeping with such views the
stoker tried not to look at Karl, but unfortunately i n this room
full of enemies there was nowhere else to rest his eyes.
" Don't misunderstand the situation," the senator said to
Karl, " it is perhaps a matter of j ustice, but it is at the same time
a matter of discipline. And on board ship it is the captain who
determines both, and especially the latter. "
"That is so," muttered the stoker. Whoever noticed his mut­
tering and understood it smiled disconcertedly.
" But we've already so hindered the captain in his official
duties-which must surely mount incredibly once the ship reaches
New York-that it's high time for us to leave instead of inter­
vening quite unnecessarily and thereby turning a trivial squab­
ble between two machinists into a full-blown incident. My dear
nephew, I can understand your behavior completely, and that's
precisely what gives me the right to whisk you away. "
"I'll have a boat lowered at once," said the captain, but
much to Karl's astonishment, he did not seek to raise the slight­
est objection to his uncle's remarks, even though they could
undoubtedly be considered self-demeaning. The chief bursar
hurried over to the desk and telephoned the captain's order to
the boatswain.
"Time is running out," Karl said to himself, " but I cannot
do anything without insulting almost everyone. After all, I
can't leave my uncle, who has only j ust found me. The captain
is polite, but that's about it. Once this becomes a disciplinary
matter, he will cease being polite, and Uncle must have been
expressing the captain's sentiments also. I don't want t o talk to
Schubal and even regret that I shook hands with him. And the
rest of the people here are nothing but chaff. "
Absorbed in such thoughts he approached the stoker slowly,
pulled the latter's right hand from his belt, took it in his own,
and began to toy with it. "So why don't you speak out ? " he
asked. "Why do you put up with everything? "
The stoker merely furrowed his brow a s i f he were seeking
the right words with which to convey his thoughts. He glanced
down at Karl's hands and at his own.
" You've suffered greater inj ustice than anybody else on this
ship, I'm quite sure of that. " And Karl drew his fingers back
and forth between the stoker's fingers; with a sparkle in his
eyes, the latter looked around on every side, as though over­
come by a great j oy, but one that nobody ought to hold against
him.
" But you must defend yourself, say yes and no, otherwise
people won't have any idea about the truth. You must promise
me you'll do as I say, for I fear that for various reasons I'll no
longer be able to help you . " And Karl wept as he kissed the
stoker's hand and took that chapped, almost lifeless hand and
pressed it to his cheeks, like a treasure one must relinquish.
However, his uncle, the senator, was already by his side and
pulled him away, if only with the slightest pressure. "The stoker
seems to have bewitched you," he said, casting a knowing look
at the captain over Karl's head. "You felt abandoned, then
found the stoker and now you're grateful to him, which cer­
tainly speaks in your favor. But don't carry this too far, if only
for my sake, and do try to understand your position. "
A commotion began outside the door; one could hear shouts,
and it even seemed as if someone was being thrust violently
against the door. A sailor entered looking rather disheveled,
with a maid's apron tied around his waist. "There are a few
people outside," he cried, thrusting out his elbows as though
he were still surrounded b y a crowd. Finally he regained his com­
posure and was about to salute the captain when he noticed the
servant's apron, tore it off, threw it on the ground, and shouted:
"That's revolting, they've tied a maid's apron around me. "
Then he clicked his heels, however, and saluted. Someone made
a n attempt to laugh, but the captain said severely: " Somebody
appears to be in a good mood! So who's outside ? " "They're
my witnesses," said Schubal, stepping forward. "I most hum­
bly beseech you to excuse their unseemly conduct. Once the
men have the voyage behind them they sometimes start acting
like madmen." "Call them in," the captain commanded, and
turning immediately to the senator, he said quickly but courte­
ously: "Mr. Senator, could you be so kind as to follow this
sailor, who'll escort you to the boat? And it goes without say­
ing, Mr. Senator, that it was a great pleasure and an honor for
me to make your acquaintance. 1 can only hope that 1 shall soon
get another chance to resume our interrupted conversation
about the state of the American fleet, and maybe we can ensure
that next time too it'll be interrupted in an equally pleasant
manner. " "Well, one nephew seems quite enough for now, "
said Karl's uncle, laughing. " Please accept my most heartfelt
thanks for the kindness you've shown, and now 1 should like
to bid you farewell. By the way, it's not inconceivable"-he
pressed Karl to his chest affectionately-"that we could spend
more time together on our next voyage to Europe. " "I should
be only too delighted, " said the captain. The two gentlemen
shook hands; Karl had to be satisfied with holding out his hand
briefly for the captain without being able to say a word, since
the latter was already preoccupied with the roughly fifteen peo­
ple led by Schubal, who entered somewhat diffidently yet also
very noisily. After asking the senator for permission to go
ahead, the sailor divided the crowd for the senator and Karl,
who made their way easily through the bowing crowd. These
otherwise good-natured people seemed to regard Schubal's
fight with the stoker as nothing more than a j oke, which lost
none of its hilarity even in the presence of the captain. Among
them Karl noticed the kitchen maid Line, who winked at him
cheerfully as she tied on the apron that had been cast aside by
the sailor, for it was indeed hers.
Continuing to follow the sailor, they left the office and
turned into a little passageway that led them after only a few
paces to a little door, from which a short stairway led down
into the boat, which was already prepared for them. With one
great bound their guide leaped into the boat, whereupon the
sailors immediately rose and saluted. While the senator was
urging Karl to take care climbing down, Karl, still on the top
step, burst into vehement tears. The senator put his right hand
under Karl's chin, and with his left hand pressed him firmly
against his chest and caressed him. Thus did they descend the
ladder, one step at a time, and closely entwined, they stepped
onto the boat, and the senator found a good spot where Karl
could sit right opposite him. At a signal from the senator, the
sailors pushed the boat away from the ship and immediately set
to work. They had rowed only a few meters from the ship
when Karl noticed with surprise that they were on the same
side as the windows of the main pay office. All three windows
were occupied by Schubal's witnesses, who greeted them cor­
dially and waved at them; even his uncle thanked them, and a
sailor performed the feat of blowing a kiss up to them without
interrupting the even rhythm of his rowing. It was as if the
stoker had ceased to exist. Karl took a closer look at his uncle,
whose knees were almost touching his own, and he began to
doubt whether this man could ever take the place of the stoker.
His uncle also avoided his glance and looked out at the waves
heaving about their boat.