The Schirmer Inheritance

“Now, you don’t want to be bitter, chum. He liked you and he’s very grateful.”

After a moment or two George looked up. “What about you?”

“Me? Oh, I’ll be getting along, too, by and by. It’s easier for me, being British. There are all sorts of places I can go. I might even join the Sarge if I feel like it.”

“Then, you do know where he’s going?”

“Yes, but I don’t know how he’s going. He might be on a ship in Salonika at this very moment for all I know. But I couldn’t say for certain. What I don’t know, nobody can make me tell.”

“So you’re just here to look after me. Is that it?”

“Well, I’ve got to pay off the boys, too, and clear up generally. I’m the adjutant, you might say.”

There was a silence. He looked round the room moodily. His eyes met George’s. Unsuccessfully, for once, he tried to grin.

“I tell you what, chum,” he said. “Now that the Sarge’s gone and everything, I reckon we’re both a bit down in the mouth today. We got hold of some German wine once. Kept it for special occasions, like last night. What about you and me having a bottle between us now?”

The sun was shining when George awoke the following morning. He looked at his watch and saw that it was eight o’clock. On the two previous mornings, Arthur had roused him, with a good deal of military noise, at seven.

He listened. The house was quite silent and the cicadas outside seemed very loud. He went and opened the door of his room.

There was no sentry on duty there. The “boys” had evidently been paid off. He went downstairs.

In the room where they had eaten their meals, Arthur had left a note and a letter for him.

George looked at the note first.

Well chum [it said], I hope you have not got too much of a hangover. There’s a letter here that Sergeant Schirmer left for you before he went. Sorry I can’t lend you my razor today as it’s the only one I’ve got. When you want to go back to dear old Civilization just walk up through the trees past the place we parked the truck and then take the right fork. You can’t miss it. It’s less than a mile away. Nobody on this side will interfere with you. You will soon meet a patrol on the other side. Don’t forget to do your best for that old driver. It’s been nice knowing you. All the best. Arthur.

The letter from the Sergeant was in Miss Kolin’s angular handwriting.

D EAR M R. C AREY [he read],

I have asked Maria to write this for me so that the meaning of what I feel and have to say will be clear and properly expressed in your language.

First, allow me to apologize for having left you so suddenly and discourteously, without taking my leave of you. No doubt, by the time you read this, the Corporal will have explained to you the situation and also the reasons for my decision not to attempt to go with you to America. I trust that you will understand. I was naturally disappointed, as I have always wished to see something of your country. Perhaps some day it will be possible.

And now, permit me to express my gratitude to you and to those of your office who sent you. Maria has told me of your persistence and determination to find a man you had so much reason to believe dead. It is a good thing to be able to go on a little further when those with less spirit are ready to turn back. I am sorry that you will have no more valuable a reward than my gratitude. Yet that I offer you sincerely, my friend. I would have been glad to receive so much money if it had been possible, but not more glad than I am now to possess the documents you brought me.

The money I cannot think of with great emotion. It is a large sum, but I do not think it has to do with me. It was earned in America by an American. I think it is just that, if there is no other heir but me, the American State of Pennsylvania should have it. My true inheritance is the knowledge you have brought me of my blood and of myself. So much has changed and Eylau is long ago, but hand clasps hand across the years and we are one. A man’s immortality is in his children. I hope I shall have many. Perhaps Maria will bear them. She says that she will wish to.

The Corporal tells me that you will be so kind as to speak discreetly for the driver who was arrested. Maria asks that, if possible, you will give him her typewriter and the other things she left in Florina so that he may sell them and have the money. His name is Douchko. She sends you also her apologies and her thanks. So now, my friend, there is only left for me to thank you again and to wish you happiness in your life. I hope we may meet again.

Yours very sincerely,

FRANZ SCHIRMER

The signature was in his own writing, very neat and clear.

George put the letters in his pocket, got his briefcase from his room, and walked up through the pine trees. It was a fine, fresh morning and the air was good. He began to think out what he would have to say to Colonel Chrysantos. The Colonel was not going to be pleased; neither was Mr. Sistrom. The whole situation, in fact, was most unfortunate.