Death and the Devil

“In the first place,” said Jaspar irritatedly, as he got up, “I presume it wasn’t a them but a him, that is, Gerhard’s murderer. In the second place, why should he come back? He’s got a hostage. He doesn’t need to bother with us anymore. None of us is going to say a blind word.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” asked Jacob uncertainly.

Jaspar was silent. Somehow his silence seemed to last too long.

“All right.” Jacob sat down on one of the stools. “I’m sorry I came to your house. I blame myself for what’s happened to Richmodis and I’m sad about Rolof. And I feel terrible that something might happen to you or Goddert. I’m very sorry, dammit! But it’s happened now and I can’t do anything to change it. It was your decision to help me. If you want, I’ll go and try to find Richmodis. If you never want to set eyes on me again, I can understand that. Only, however much I have to be grateful to you for, don’t blame me because you decided to help me.”

Jaspar frowned. “When did I ever blame you for anything?”

“Not out loud, Jaspar, but you thought it. You see me as responsible for all this. In a way I am. But you had a free choice. Nobody forced you. Don’t think I’m being ungrateful, I just want you to be open with me. Throw me out, if you like, but don’t pretend you want to help me, while inside you’re beginning to hate me.”

“Who’s saying I hate you?”

“No one is. But at the moment you’re thinking, if I hadn’t met this goddamn good-for-nothing—or, if you like, if I hadn’t helped him—Rolof would still be alive and no one would be in danger. You’re weighing my life against those of Rolof and Richmodis, and I come off worse. You don’t have to tell me, I know. But I also know this may be your last opportunity to decide, and I don’t want you deceiving yourself and me. I can live—and die—with anything, apart from the contempt of a Good Samaritan who’s standing by me, not for my sake, but for his own self-respect.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t need anyone to tell me my life is worth less than that of others. Send me away, if you want. But leave me my pride.”

Jaspar put his head on one side and squinted at Jacob. “You think this is the right moment to tell me all this?”

“Yes.”

“Hmmm.” He sat down facing Jacob and massaged the bridge of his nose. For a while all that could be heard was the drumming of the raindrops on the shutters.

“You’re right, I did see you as responsible. I was thinking, what right has he to live, when my servant had to die for his sake and Richmodis is God-knows-where, assuming she’s still alive. He should be feeling so guilty he wished the earth would open and swallow him up. And he has the cheek to ask whether I’m sure my suspicions are correct. He doesn’t deserve to live! How can God allow worthwhile people to suffer because of a piece of scum?”

He paused.

“But I had forgotten, just for a moment, that no life is worthless. What is worse, I was trying to wriggle out of the responsibility. It’s easier to condemn you than to admit I’m responsible for everything myself.”

Jaspar hesitated. Then he raised his head and looked Jacob in the eye. “I thank you for the lesson, Fox-cub. Will you continue to accept my help?”

Jacob looked at him and suddenly couldn’t repress a laugh.

“What now?” asked Jaspar indignantly.

“Nothing. It’s just that—you have an unusual expression when you apologize.”

“Unusual?”

“A bit like—”

“Like what?”

“There was this capon—”

“Impudent brat!” snorted Jaspar. “That’s what you get when for once in your life you admit a mistake.”

“Perhaps that’s why. Once in your life.”

Jaspar stared at him angrily. Then he had to laugh and for a while they both cackled away. It was nervous, overwrought, hysterical laughter, but it did them good all the same.

“Poor Rolof,” said Jaspar at last.

Jacob nodded.

“Well?” Jaspar’s brow furrowed like a plowed field. “I still think we should go onto the attack.”

“Attack who? How? When Richmodis—”

Jaspar leaned forward. “Richmodis has disappeared. We won’t help her by sitting around doing nothing, and certainly not Rolof. I also don’t think we can trust the man who abducted her. He intends to kill us all. But do you know what I think? I think we’re already making things a bit awkward for him.”

“How?” Jacob asked skeptically. “So far people on our side have done nothing but get killed.”

“True. But why then did he take Richmodis hostage instead of just killing her? In that case I’m convinced he’s telling the truth. She’s alive. What I mean is, why did he take her hostage?”

“Because it suited him. He can do as he likes with us.”