CHAPTER XV.
HERR LABERL TURNS
The next few days were marked by another event that caused great consternation in uncompromisingly Christian-Socialist circles. The Mayor of Vienna, after Schwertfeger the most influential man of the country--Herr Karl Maria Laberl fell over, figuratively speaking. Not voluntarily, however, but because he was tripped up by the President of the Municipal Council, Herr Kallop. City Hall had long known that Herr Kallop’s name should really be read from right to left, that is, “Pollak,” as this had been his grandfather’s name. When the Jews were still in Vienna the story was told among them that the old Pollak had been an immigrant grain-dealer from Galicia, who became converted on his marriage to a Christian. The name Kallop had been adopted by his son, who was a lawyer highly respected in Christian circles; he married a Christian also, so that, according to the Schwertfeger law, the grandchildren of the old Pollak were full-blooded Aryans. Josef Kallop, the lawyer’s son, was a ne’er-do-well in his youth, unable to complete the studies required for admission to the bar; but he became a successful Municipal Councillor. Infinitely more shrewd than most of his colleagues, he soon became the Presiding Officer, and for quite some time had been the right hand of Mayor Laberl.
It was Herr Kallop, therefore, who brought about the fall of the Mayor. He began by explaining that a great change was impending.
“As you can clearly see, Herr Laberl, things can’t go on this way. The near future will bring disturbances that will be quite serious; and one of these days the government will go up in thin smoke, so to speak. If you don’t want to go up with it you’d better change your course before it’s too late. Don’t stick too closely to Schwertfeger; admit that expulsion of all the Jews was going a little too far. And then, in the midst of the rumpus that is inevitable, all Vienna will suddenly stop and say to itself: ‘Our Mayor is a smart fellow--he knows when we’ve had enough of a good thing, and he’ll be able to help us out of this fix.’”
Herr Karl Maria Laberl nodded, stroked his fine white beard, and seemed entirely convinced by this superior reasoning; yet he asked, a little timorously:
“That’s quite right, what you say there, my dear Kallop; it’s just what I’ve been thinking for a long time. But how am I to go about it?”
“Very simple, Your Honor. We call a meeting of the Christian-Socialist citizens’ league of, say, the First District, for there the business men are actually in a panic. And then you’ll make a speech which we’ll work out together.”
This was done; it must be noted, however, that the “working out together” of the speech consisted in Herr Laberl’s memorizing the oration composed by the President of the Municipal Council. At the meeting of the citizens’ league Herr Laberl greeted the assembly with the utmost solemnity, spoke of the grave times and unbearable conditions, and finally said:
“The demand for new elections is becoming more and more stormy; and I am the last man to refuse to heed that demand. On the contrary, I am, personally, in favor of doing what the people want, and of determining, by means of new elections, whether the voters of Austria still approve of what the government did more than two years ago or whether they want a radical change. I--and doubtless you also, gentlemen--see only one goal: To make possible the rehabilitation of our country, to bring back the light of day to our unfortunate nation, hurled into a labyrinth by the Entente--but, perhaps, by grave errors of its own also. Gentlemen, we may be guided by no dogma, no fanaticism, no personal likes or dislikes, but only by the thought of what is best for our land!”
Kallop saw to it that the Municipal Press Bureau gave over the Mayor’s speech to the papers word for word that very night; and the next day even the simplest among the Viennese knew that at the proper moment Karl Maria Laberl would leave the Chancellor in the lurch.
When Dr. Schwertfeger read the Mayor’s speech in the morning papers--of which only the _Arbeiter-Zeitung_ provided adequate comment--bitter gall rose in his mouth, and he spat it out. Then he looked long, forlornly, dully over the public park, covered with a white shroud.
But in the City Hall Herr Kallop gaily rubbed his hands. And after making sure that neither a colleague nor an inferior was in the room, he said loudly and distinctly, “_Mazeltov!_” knocking thrice on the under side of the table. Incidentally, it might be divulged that Herr Kallop admired a voluptuous Jewess--twice divorced, to be sure, but blessed with many millions by way of compensation--who now lived in exile in Prague. And he longed for nothing so much as for the return of her person and her millions to his beloved country--if for no other reason, than because he could not possibly cope any longer with the rising cost of living on his salary as President of the Municipal Council, and because, furthermore, he had made a mistake in his speculations on the Polish mark.