A Noble Profession

“Time went by. I was about to settle my bill and move on to our rendezvous ahead of them, when the German soldier came in. He was blind drunk and his arrival caused an uneasy stir in the cafe. He settled down at the counter facing them and ordered a drink, which the waiter reluctantly served him. Then he turned around toward the couple and began staring at them intently. His attitude was so insolent that the waiter stopped clearing up the glasses to look at him.

“I postponed my departure and waited, anxious to see how Arvers would behave. He had become quite red in the face and was pretending, against all probability, not to notice the drunk’s attitude. He had turned his head in another direction and appeared to be deeply absorbed in the contemplation of a large clock.

“When the soldier taunted him out loud, he again changed color and became almost as white as he had been in the airplane. Jerking his chin in Claire’s direction, the German then made an obscene remark in broken French. Arvers’ features contracted, though he still could not bring himself to turn around and face the fellow.”

“A profoundly interesting test,” Dr. Fog observed.

“I’ve always wondered how he would react in a hand-to-hand fight. His file doesn’t give the slightest indication on that point.”

“There’s something still more curious to come, sir. It was when I looked at Claire that I had a real surprise.

“Her behavior was extraordinary. Instead of remaining aloof, as she usually was and as any woman might have, she gave a quick sidelong smile that was a direct invitation to the brute’s advances. There was no mistaking it. Each glance of hers was an encouragement for him to persist in his taunts. She even made a gesture of contempt in her companion’s direction, shrugging her shoulders and looking the drunkard straight in the eyes. The waiter, who couldn’t help noticing her behavior, showed his indignation by clattering the glasses together.

“Arvers, whose head was turned in the opposite direction, could not maintain that position indefinitely. He turned around toward her just as the soldier, incited by her gestures, was making a direct obscene proposal to her. Arvers happened to be saying something to her at that very instant. He broke off in the middle of the sentence and I could guess what the gist of it was. He was alluding to our meeting and was telling her, with feigned indifference, that it was time for them to be moving if they didn’t want to be late. I haven’t forgotten a single detail of the scene, sir. He stopped short, his voice died away as his gaze fell on the girl, whose smile, originally aimed at the German, changed its tar- get as well as its meaning. It was at him her smile was now directed, taunting, full of scorn. Then his face became even whiter and I distinctly saw his leg begin to tremble.

“She looked at him like this for several seconds, then she herself said something. Her voice betrayed utter contempt as well as intense satisfaction. ... I don’t know if I’m making myself clear, sir.’’

“Nothing could be clearer,” said the doctor. “I can see the whole thing as though I were there myself.”

“It was the outcome that surprised me,” Austin went on. “There again I lost a bet with myself. . . . Anyway, she said something in reply to his remark.

“ ‘You’re right, darling,’ she said . . . Did I tell you she always called him ‘darling’? Oh, I can just see them there by themselves in the villa. Ours is a dirty job, sir, there’s no getting away from it!"

"You realize that," said the doctor, "just when you’re beginning to have a passion for this job. So she said to him: ‘You’re right, darling . ."

"She said it with withering contempt, underscoring each word. ‘You’re right, darling, we must be leaving. It’s high time we got out of here.’ And she rose to her feet.

" ‘Just a moment,’ Arvers exclaimed suddenly.

"I gave a start. His voice, which had altered abruptly, seemed to belong to someone else and I stupidly peered around the room. No, it was certainly he, but his attitude had undergone a complete change. Only a moment before, he had been little more than a dummy; now he had an air of authority. I also observed—I think I’m beginning to be quite a good observer, sir—I also observed that the nervous tremor in his leg had stopped. His gestures were deliberate, but somehow stiff and mechanical. . . . An automaton, that’s it—an automaton obeying an impulse, an external will. The shock of the girl's scorn had caused this metamorphosis.

" ‘Just a moment, darling,’ he said, motioning her to sit down again.

"He stepped around the table, walked straight across to the soldier, who was watching him with a smirk, stopped in front of him, and gave him a hard slap in the face. Then he went back to her, and there was a glint of triumph in his eyes. Meanwhile she lowered her head and looked extremely disappointed. After that . . . after that, sir, he seemed to collapse, inert and defenseless in the face of his adversary, incapable, I felt, of retaliating in any way had he been attacked. The trembling in his leg had started up again. I held my breath.”

“A dramatic moment, I should imagine,” said Dr. Fog.

“The tension was dispelled, luckily, by the attitude of the very man responsible for it. The soldier looked disconcerted and shaken for a moment, then burst into a loud guffaw. He was too drunk to fight back. He murmured ‘friend/ then turned his back and went on with his drink.

“ ‘We can leave now, darling,’ Arvers said with a tremor in his voice over which he had no control. He was at the end of his rope. She got up to join him. I watched them move off arm in arm, while the waiter gave him an obsequious bow.”

“So on the whole you’re pleased with your team?” Dr. Fog asked.

“Fairly pleased, sir, although Claire’s attitude worries me somewhat. But I’m not so satisfied with my own role.”

“Each man to his own job. What’s bothering you?”

For the last moment or two Austin had been looking slightly vexed. He decided to ask the question that was preying on his mind.

“It’s this, sir. Has she been given a private briefing from you without my knowing it?”

“What do you mean?”

“Have you given her instructions to keep an eye on him, to spy on him?”

"No, Austin,” the doctor replied frankly, “I’m relying on you for that. But I knew she would do so in any case, and I think it may be useful. I suppose you no longer have the slightest doubt about the motive for her conduct?”

"Not the slightest!” Austin exclaimed. "I was mad to think her intention was to redeem her brother’s crime. What an idea! Not once has she acknowledged his treachery. Not for a second has she believed him guilty.”