Then the Chairman declared the meeting adjourned.
[ . . . ]
Chapter Nineteen
[ . . . ]
Dubslav was in a splendid good humor. The glorious autumn weather, and in addition, the lively scene, had all raised his mood. Most uplifting of all, however, was that on the way and while passing down the main street, he had had occasion to greet various good friends. It was sounding ten from the church as he stopped before the Prince Regent’s Inn, which had been set up as the polling place. Already standing before its front facade were several more or less dubious looking electoral delegates, all endeavoring to pass out their handbills to supposed party comrades.
Within the hall, the election was underway. Behind the urn presided old Herr von Zühlen, who, well into his seventies, knew how to combine the most grotesque feudalistic views with equally great charm, a talent which assured him of great popularity even with his political opponents. Next to him, on his left and right, sat Herr von Storbeck and Herr van dem Peerenboom. The latter was a Dutchman from the region of Delft, who but a few years earlier had bought a large estate in the Ruppin area and since that time had turned himself into a Prussian, and what was even more, into a “county man.” They did not view him as being completely legitimate, however, for all sorts of reasons, even starting with his “van.” None of this was shown, however, because he was not without the primary characteristic, which made a profound impression on most of the local county folk, of being a Dutch-Javanese coffee dealer, born so and so many years ago in Batavia. His neighbor von Storbeck’s life history was more prosaic.
Among the others who also usually sat at the committee table was Katzler. whom Ermyntrud, as Dubslav had quite correctly surmised, had sent from her childbed with the comment, that in the modern bourgeois state voting was every bit as valuable as taking up arms. “The child will be my angel in the meanwhile,” she added, “and the feeling of fulfilled duty will keep up my strength.” Gundermann too, who always had to be in the middle of things, was also sitting at the committee table. His behavior had something excited about it because, as Lorenzen had hinted, he really had secretly conspired against Dubslav. That he would be defeated was obvious and scarcely concerned him any more. Filling him with dread, however, was the concern that his earlier duplicity might be revealed.
Dubslav dearly wished the whole affair were behind him. Thus after greeting several acquaintances outside and exchanging a few words with each, he proceeded from the vestibule into the polling room to place his ballot in the urn as quickly as possible. In the process his glance encountered that of old Zühlen. With a mixture of solemnity and whimsicality it seemed to say, “Yes sir, Stechlin, nothing much’ll help either, one’s just got to go along with the whole silly affair.” Dubslav, it must be said, scarcely came to take note of this look because he caught sight of Katzler and advanced toward him immediately to congratulate him with a handshake on the birth of his seventh daughter. The old man passed Gundermann without taking notice. This was just by chance, of course; he knew nothing of the Siebenmühlener’s duplicity. But the latter himself, having a bad conscience, became embarrassed and felt the oldster’s bearing to be a rejection.
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