The Doll (69 page)

And at this moment, for the first time, the idea of not returning to Poland appeared clearly to him: ‘I'll sell the shop,' he thought, ‘withdraw my capital and settle in Paris. I won't get in the way of people who don't want me…I'll visit the museums, perhaps take to some special studies, and life will pass, if not happily, then at least painlessly.'

Only one incident, one person could bring him back to Poland and keep him there…But this incident hadn't happened, and indeed, others had occurred to detach him more and more from Warsaw and attach him increasingly to Paris.

O
NE DAY
he was conducting business as usual with clients in the reception room. He had just dismissed an individual who offered to fight duels on his behalf, another who was a ventriloquist and wanted to take part in diplomacy, and a third, who promised to reveal to him the treasures buried by Napoleon's general staff at Berezina, when a footman in a blue frock-coat announced: ‘Professor Geist!'

‘Geist?' Wokulski repeated, and he experienced a peculiar sensation. It occurred to him that iron, in the vicinity of a magnet, must feel such sensations: ‘Ask him in.'

A moment later in came a very small and skinny man, with a face as yellow as wax. He had not a single grey hair on his head.

‘How old might he be?' thought Wokulski. Meanwhile, the visitor was eyeing him sharply, and they sat thus for a minute or perhaps two, appraising one another. Wokulski was seeking to estimate the age of the newcomer. Geist appeared to be examining him.

‘Your orders, sir?' Wokulski finally exclaimed.

Geist shifted in his seat: ‘What can I order?' he replied with a shrug, ‘I have come here to beg, not to give orders.'

‘What can I do for you?' inquired Wokulski, for his visitor's face seemed strangely likeable to him.

His guest rubbed his head: ‘I came here with one thing,' he said, but I'm going to talk of something else. I wanted to sell you a new explosive…'

‘I won't buy it,' Wokulski interrupted.

‘Won't you?' asked Geist, ‘and yet I was told you gentlemen are seeking something of the sort for the navy. But never mind…I have something else for you…'

‘For me?' asked Wokulski, surprised not so much by Geist's words as by his looks.

‘Did you not at one time fly a captive balloon?' said his guest.

‘Yes, I did.'

‘You are wealthy and an expert in natural sciences.'

‘Yes,' Wokulski replied.

‘And there was a time when you meant to jump off a bridge?' asked Geist. Wokulski pushed his chair back.

‘Do not be surprised,' said his visitor. ‘In my life I have seen some thousand natural scientists, while I have had four suicides in my laboratory, so I am an expert in this type of person. You have glanced at the barometer too often for me not to have recognised a natural scientist, while even schoolgirls recognise a man thinking of suicide.'

‘What can I do for you?' Wokulski asked again, wiping the sweat from his face.

‘I won't say much,' Geist declared. ‘Do you know what organic chemistry is?'

‘It's the chemistry of carbon compounds…'

‘And what do you think of the chemistry of hydrogen compounds?'

‘There is no such thing.'

‘There is,' Geist replied, ‘but instead of volatiles, fats, aromatic bodies, it gives new products…New products, Monsieur Suzin, with very interesting properties.…'

‘What does that have to do with me,' said Wokulski dully, ‘I'm a tradesman.'

‘You are not a tradesman, sir, but a desperado,' Geist replied. ‘Tradesmen don't think of jumping out of a balloon…As soon as I saw you, I thought, “This is the man for me.” But you vanished from my sight as soon as you left the porch…Today chance has brought us together again…Mr Suzin, we must discuss the hydrogen compounds, and if you are wealthy…'

‘In the first place, I am not Suzin.'

‘No matter, since all I need is a wealthy desperado,' said Geist.

Wokulski gazed at Geist almost fearfully. Questions flashed through his mind: is he a conjuror or secret agent, a madman or perhaps he's really a spirit? Who knows that Satan is only a myth and doesn't appear to people at certain times? The fact is, however, that this old man of indeterminate age had tracked down the most secret thought of Wokulski who had recently been dreaming about suicide, but so timidly that he had lacked the courage even to formulate the plan to himself.

His visitor continued gazing at him and smiled with tranquil irony: but when Wokulski opened his mouth to ask him something, he interrupted: ‘Don't trouble yourself, sir. I have already spoken with so many people regarding their own characters and my inventions that I can tell in advance what you wish to know. I'm Professor Geist, an old madman, as they say in all the cafés around the university and polytechnic. Once I was called a great chemist, until…until I went beyond the boundary of scientific knowledge in force, today. I reported articles, I produced inventions in my own name or in the names of my collaborators, who even shared the profits with me conscientiously. But since the time when I discovered phenomena not to be found in the annals of the Academy, I have been denounced not only as a madman but as a heretic and traitor…'

‘Here, in Paris?' Wokulski whispered.

‘Aha!' Geist laughed, ‘here, in Paris. In Altdorf or Neustadt, a heretic and traitor is the man who doesn't believe in the clergy, Bismarck, the ten commandments and the Prussian constitution. Here one may mock Bismarck and the constitution, but you run the risk of apostasy if you don't believe in the multiplication table, the theory of wave movement, the consistency of specific gravities and so forth. Show me, sir, one city in which men's brains are not cramped by some dogma or other, and I'll make it the capital of the world and the cradle of a new race of men…'

Wokulski cooled down: he was certain he was dealing with a maniac. Geist gazed at him and went on smiling: ‘I'm ending, Mr Suzin,' he said. ‘I've made great discoveries in chemistry, I have created a new science, I have found new industrial products which people scarcely dared even to dream of before. But…I still need a few extremely important facts, and I have no more money. I've sunk four fortunes in my research, and used up a dozen or more men: so now I need another fortune and new men…'

‘Why this confidence in me?' asked Wokulski, calm now.

‘That's simple,' replied Geist. ‘Thoughts of suicide come to a madman, a scoundrel or to a man of high worth, for whom the world is too small.'

‘But how do you know I am not a scoundrel?'

‘And how do you know that a horse isn't a cow?' Geist replied. ‘During my enforced vacations, which have lasted for several years, alas, I have been occupying myself with zoology and making a special study of the species, Man. In this single species, with its two hands, I discovered dozens of animal types ranging from oysters and earthworms to owls and tigers. What is more, I have discovered blends of these types: tigers with wings, serpents with the heads of dogs, falcons with the shells of tortoises, which of course the imagination of poetic geniuses had already divined. And amidst all this menagerie of beasts and monsters, here and there I have found a real man, a being with sense, heart and energy. You, Mr Suzin, have the unmistakable traits of a man and that is why I have spoken so frankly to you: you are one in ten, perhaps in a hundred thousand.'

Wokulski frowned. Geist burst out: ‘What? Perhaps you think I am flattering you to gain a few francs? I'll call on you again tomorrow and you'll see how unfair you are just now, and stupid.'

He jumped up, but Wokulski stopped him: ‘Don't be angry, professor,' he said, ‘I didn't want to offend you. But here I am visited almost every day by various kinds of tricksters.'

‘Tomorrow I'll convince you I am neither a trickster nor a madman,' Geist replied. ‘I'll show you something seen by only six or seven men who…are dead now. Ah, if only they were still alive!' he sighed.

‘Why not until tomorrow?'

‘Because I live some distance away, and have no money for a horse-drawn cab.'

Wokulski pressed his hand: ‘You won't be offended, professor?' he asked, ‘if…'

‘If you give me the fare? No. After all, I told you to start with that I'm here to beg and am perhaps the most wretched beggar in Paris.'

Wokulski gave him a hundred francs. ‘For goodness sake,' Geist smiled, ‘ten would do. Who knows but what you won't be giving me a hundred thousand tomorrow…Do you have a large fortune?'

‘Around one million francs.'

‘A million!' Geist repeated, clutching his head. ‘I'll be back in two hours. God grant that I become as necessary to you, as you are to me.'

‘In that case, be so kind, professor, as to come to my room on the third floor. This is a public room.'

‘I prefer the third floor…I'll be back in two hours,' replied Geist, and he quickly hurried out of the room. A moment later Jumart appeared: ‘The old fellow bored you,' he said to Wokulski, ‘eh?'

‘What sort of man is he?' Wokulski asked casually.

Jumart stuck out his lower lip. ‘He's a madman,' he replied, ‘but when I was still a student, he was a great chemist. Well, then he produced some invention or other, he's said to have some strange objects to display, but…' He tapped his forehead with one finger.

‘Why do you call him a madman?'

‘What other epithet can you give to a man', replied Jumart, ‘who believes he has succeeded in decreasing the specific gravity of bodies, or is it of metals—I don't recall?'

Wokulski bade him good-bye and went to his room: ‘What a strange city,' he thought, ‘where there are to be found treasure-seekers, hired defenders of a man's honour, distinguished ladies who trade in secrets, waiters who discuss chemistry and chemists who want to decrease the specific gravity of bodies…'

Towards five, Geist appeared in his room: he was somehow agitated and locked the door behind him. ‘Mr Suzin,' he said, ‘it is very important to me that we should understand one another. Tell me—do you have obligations: a wife, children? Although it doesn't seem to me…'

‘I have no one.'

‘But you have a fortune? A million…'

‘Very nearly.'

‘And tell me,' said Geist, ‘why you are thinking of killing yourself?'

Wokulski shuddered. ‘That was temporary,' he said, ‘I felt giddy in the balloon.'

Geist shook his head. ‘You have a fortune,' he muttered, ‘you are not striving for fame, or at least not yet…There must be a woman in it,' he cried.

‘Possibly,' replied Wokulski, highly embarrassed.

‘It's a woman!' said Geist. ‘That's bad. One can never know what she will do and what she will lead to. In any case, listen,' he added, looking into his eyes, ‘if you ever again feel the need to try…Do you understand? Don't kill yourself, but come to me.'

‘Perhaps I'll come right away,' said Wokulski, looking down.

‘Not right away!' Geist replied vivaciously. ‘Women never destroy men right away. Have you already settled your accounts with that individual?'

‘It seems to me…'

‘Aha, it only seems so. That's bad. In any case, bear my advice in mind. It is very easy to destroy yourself in my laboratory, I assure you!'

‘What have you brought, professor?' Wokulski asked him.

‘That's bad, that's bad!' Geist muttered. ‘I have to find a buyer for my explosive material. But I thought we would combine…'

‘First, sir, show me what you've brought,' Wokulski interrupted.

‘You are right,' replied Geist, and he brought a medium-sized box out of his pocket. ‘Look,' he said, ‘this is why people call me mad!'

The box was of metal, shut in a singular manner. Geist in turn touched pins fixed in various places, casting feverish and suspicious glances at Wokulski from time to time. Once he even hesitated and made a gesture as if to put the box away: but he collected himself, touched a few pins and the lid shot up.

At this moment he was seized by another attack of suspicion. The old man sank to the couch, hid the box behind his back and fearfully gazed around the room, then at Wokulski. ‘I'm committing a folly!' he muttered. ‘What madness to risk everything for the first person I happen upon.'

‘Don't you trust me, sir?' asked Wokulski, no less moved.

‘I trust no one,' said the old man viciously, ‘for what assurance can anyone give me? A promise or his word of honour? I'm too old to believe in promises. Only mutual profit can insure against the vilest treachery, and even that not always…'

Wokulski shrugged and sat down. ‘I'm not forcing you, sir,' he said, ‘to share your troubles with me. I have enough of my own.'

Geist did not remove his gaze from him, but he gradually calmed down. Finally he exclaimed: ‘Come over here, to the table. Look, what is this?'

He showed him a metal ball of dark colour.

‘It looks to me like printer's metal.'

‘Pick it up.'

Wokulski took the ball and was amazed to find it so heavy.

‘This is platinum,' he said.

‘Platinum?' Geist echoed with a mocking smile. ‘Here's platinum for you.'

And he handed him a platinum ball of the same size. Wokulski weighed both in his hands: his amazement grew.

‘Surely this is almost twice the weight of platinum?' he whispered.

‘Yes…yes,' Geist laughed. ‘One of my academic friends even called it “compromised platinum”. A neat phrase, isn't it? To indicate a metal whose specific gravity is 30.7. They always do that. Whenever they succeed in finding a name for a new thing, they at once say they have explained it on the basis of established laws of nature. Conceited asses—the wisest of all, such as so-called humanity abounds with. Do you recognise this?' he added.