Not a soul was to be seen in the street.
Gustav jumped out, a twenty-mark note in his hand.
"Damn. No small change.
Porter, can you change it?
One seventy, isn't it?
You fix it."
He made as if to go to the cashier.
The porter approached me, coughing, and pushed one mark fifty at me.
I held my hand farther out.
"Push off—" he growled. "The rest, you dirty swine!" I shouted.
He stood a second as if petrified.
"Man," said he then, softly, licking his lips, "you'll be sorry for that for a month." He hauled off.
The blow would have knocked me senseless.
But I was prepared; I turned and ducked, and his fist crashed with all its weight on to the sharp steel claw of my starting handle that I had been holding in readiness, concealed in my left hand.
With a yell the porter leapt back shaking his hand.
He was hissing with pain like a steam engine, and standing quite open, without cover.
I shot out of the car.
"Do you recognise me?" I spat and hit him in the stomach.
He toppled over.
"One!" Gustav started counting from the door.
By "Five" the porter was up again, looking glassy.
As before I saw his face in front of me, very distinct—this healthy, big, stupid, common face; this perfectly healthy, powerful brute; this swine who would never have sick lungs; and suddenly I felt a red film over my brain and my eyes, I sprang at it and punched and punched; everything that had been tormenting me these last days and weeks I punched into that healthy, big face until I was hauled off.
"Man, you'll kill him!" cried Gustav.
I looked around.
The porter, streaming blood, was leaning against the wall.
He crumpled up, fell, and then slowly like an enormous shining insect in his uniform began crawling on all fours to the entrance.
"He won't be so free with his fists again," said Gustav. "But off we go—shake a leg, before anybody comes.
That was near to assault and battery."
We flung the money on the pavement, got in and drove off.
"Am I bleeding too?" I asked, "or is that the porter?"
"Your nose again," explained Gustav. "He landed a very lovely left square on it."
"I didn't even notice it."
Gustav laughed.
"Do you know," said I, "I feel ever so much better."
Chapter XVIII
Our taxi was standing outside "The Bar."
I went in to relieve Gottfried and to get the key and the papers.
Gottfried came out with me.
"Made any money?" I asked.
"So-so," he replied. "Either there are too many taxis or too few people to ride in them. How was it with you?"
"Bad.
Stood around the whole night and didn't take twenty marks."
"Dull times." Gottfried raised his eyebrows. "Then you're probably not in such a hurry to-day, eh?"
"No, why?"
"You can take me along a bit."
"All right."
We climbed in.
"Where do you want to go then?" I asked.
"To the cathedral."
"What?" I asked. "Do you think I might have misheard?