But the other did not appear perfectly satisfied with this answer. "Don't take it amiss, but I beg you to give me your word that you will not tell anyone of my visit to you?"
George looked at him with intense astonishment. How could Willberg ask such a thing? However he said: "If it is any satisfaction to you, I will certainly give you my word, though I cannot see any reason for it."
Willberg breathed more freely and took leave, after thanking George most warmly.
CHAPTER V
Hildegarde and George
Several weeks passed and George was still "sent to Coventry by the regiment," as he called it. He still had not a single friend with whom he had any close relations. His hope that Willberg, whom he had helped out of his difficulty, would get on more friendly terms with him, was not fulfilled. On the contrary, the latter had less to do with him than usual, although he had not yet paid his debt. George did not trouble about this. He had already had many disagreeable experiences in these matters in his old regiment; but as he himself had grown up in quite different circumstances, he did not really grasp the attitude of the "Golden Butterflies" with regard to money. They had no hesitation, even in the presence of the orderlies, in borrowing from each other. Very often, indeed, they made no scruples about saying to their servants: "Spend this or that amount on my behalf," but the money was not always returned to the orderly the same day. They got credit wherever they could, and borrowed from all possible sources. In the chief restaurant, where they often passed the evenings rather than stay at home in barracks, many of the officers owed the waiter fifty or sixty marks actually in cash, besides what they owed for food and drinks. And it was just those who owed the waiter most, who lived most extravagantly, ate the dearest food and drank the most expensive wine, and when they went off it was always, "Muller, put down twenty marks to my account, you know you'll get it all right." But the question was, when? Some of the officers had owed this money for months, and they never thought of paying back; so long as they wore a uniform, surely the money was safe enough. George noticed with astonishment that the officers in Berlin were just as lax in these matters as they had been in his former regiment. Once in the little garrison town, in a restaurant much frequented by the military, there was a row with the landlord; the officers boycotted the place and swore that the fellow shouldn't get another penny from them. But not a single one of them thought of paying his debts, part of which were due to the landlord, part to the waiter. It was only when the landlord complained to the colonel that he obtained redress, but even then it was in a curious manner. The colonel did not order his officers to pay their debts within twenty-four hours, but he gave them six weeks in which to discharge their liabilities. And so the landlord and the waiter, who really needed their money, had to wait patiently all that time.
George remembered another incident that had taken place only a few weeks ago. One morning a senior lieutenant had appeared at lunch much excited, and said that the hairdresser to whom they all went had written and dunned him on account of a miserable debt of a few pounds, and had threatened him with a summons through the post, as he was in great difficulties and wanted his money at once. The officer openly admitted that he had had the hairdresser's bill several times, but had never paid him a penny. But, in spite of this, there was a storm of indignation at the hairdresser's daring to write to him. Why should the fellow want his money in such a hurry? Couldn't he wait? The few pounds were quite safe, and nobody ever sends a man of position a summons through the post. The end of the story was that the "Golden Butterflies" were forbidden to patronise the hairdresser's shop, but, in spite of this, the officers who owed money there did not discharge their debt.
Certainly in all matters connected with money they had few scruples and lax views. Debts were only considered as such when they consisted of actual money; they never reckoned in what was owing to a tradesman. The fellow was there, of course, to give credit; he had to wait two or three years, sometimes much longer, before getting his money. He ought to be delighted if the officers came into his shop, and ought to be willing to pay something for the honour of having such customers, and getting a good advertisement. They got credit everywhere, and once it happened that a lieutenant owed his own servant twenty marks. The incident was revealed when the recruits were dismissed. The colonel when discharging the recruits said: "Has any one of you any claims on the regiment? if so, let him make it now." Then a young recruit stepped forward and said in a loud voice: "I am still owed twenty marks by my former lieutenant, which he borrowed from me a few months ago when I had some money from home." The matter was investigated, and found to be quite correct; the fellow was paid his money and the lieutenant received a severe rebuke. But everyone thought it was an unheard-of thing for a discharged soldier to bring a complaint against his former lieutenant. Nobody, however, asked if the man were in a position to bear the loss of twenty marks.
George remained completely isolated among his companions. Nobody troubled in the least about him. His astonishment therefore was all the greater when one day after lunch his adjutant sat down beside him, and engaged him in a long and very friendly conversation. He could not quite account for this mark of distinction, but he quickly understood when Count Wettborn suddenly said to him: "I have for a long time meant to ask you why your father does not try to get a title. The thing is certainly not easy, but your father is well thought of by His Majesty, and it would be easy to overcome the difficulty if your father would be disposed to give a couple of hundred thousand marks for some charitable object. Your father could certainly do that—why doesn't he?"