“It did me no harm,” said Karl.
“It did him no harm!” the Senator repeated, laughing loudly.
“Only I’m afraid I’ve lost my trunk—” and with this he was reminded of everything that had happened and all that still remained to be done; he looked around him and saw all those present, still in their former positions, ogling him and struck dumb with awe and amazement. Only the harbor officials, as much as their harsh complacent faces could be read, betrayed regret at having come at such an inopportune time, and the pocket watch they had now laid before them was probably more important to them than anything that was happening or might still happen in the room.
The first person to express his sympathy, after the captain, was oddly enough the stoker. “I heartily congratulate you,” he said, and shook Karl’s hand, trying to impart something like appreciation with this gesture. When he attempted to turn and address the same words to the Senator, the Senator pulled back as if the stoker were overstepping his bounds, and the stoker left off immediately.
But the others now understood what was expected of them and formed a huddle around Karl and the Senator at once. And so it happened that Karl received congratulations from Schubal, which he accepted and thanked him for. The last to step in, once order was somewhat restored, were the harbor officials, who said a couple of words in English that made an absurd impression.
The Senator was now well disposed to make the most of this pleasurable occasion by recalling, for his own benefit and that of the others, some of the more incidental details, which were naturally not only tolerated but greeted with interest. Thus he pointed out that he had recorded in his notebook, should he need them on short notice, Karl’s most distinguishing features as listed in the cook’s letter. And then, during the stoker’s unbearable rambling, he had taken out the notebook for no other purpose than to distract himself and tried, for the sake of amusement, to compare Karl’s appearance with the cook’s observations, which were naturally not up to the standards of a detective. “And that is how one finds one’s nephew!” he concluded, in a tone that seemed to invite further congratulations.
“What will happen to the stoker now?” asked Karl, ignoring his uncle’s latest anecdote. He believed his new position gave him the freedom to express whatever crossed his mind.
“The stoker will get what he deserves,” said the Senator, “and what the captain deems appropriate. I believe we have had enough and more than enough of the stoker, and I’m sure that every gentleman present here will agree.”
“But that’s not the point in a matter of justice,” said Karl. He stood between his uncle and the captain and believed, perhaps because of this position, that he could influence a decision.
And yet the stoker seemed to have abandoned all hope. His hands were shoved halfway into his trouser belt, which had been exposed along with a strip of checked shirt due to his agitated movements. This did not trouble him in the least: He had vented all his woes and now they might as well see the few rags that covered his body, after which they could carry him away. He imagined that Schubal and the attendant, being the two lowest in rank of those present, should perform this final kindness. Schubal would have his peace then and no longer be driven to distraction, as the chief purser had put it. The captain would be free to hire no one but Romanians, Romanian would be spoken everywhere, and maybe everything really would run smoother that way. No stoker would be yammering away in the purser’s office; only his last yammering would be fondly remembered since, as the Senator had explicitly stated, it led indirectly to the recognition of his nephew. This nephew, by the way, had previously attempted to help him a number of times and had been more than fully repaid by the stoker’s aid in the recognition; it did not even occur to the stoker to ask anything further of him now. Besides, even if he were the Senator’s nephew, he was still a long way from being a captain and it was from the captain’s lips that the foul verdict must fall.—And in accordance with this view, the stoker did his best to avoid looking at Karl but, unfortunately, in this room full of enemies there was no other place to rest his eyes.