The Dead Are Silent

Arthur Schnitzler
The Dead Are Silent, by Arthur
Schnitzler

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Title: The Dead Are Silent 1907
Author: Arthur Schnitzler
Release Date: October 17, 2007 [EBook #23061]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEAD
ARE SILENT ***

Produced by David Widger

THE DEAD ARE SILENT
By Arthur Schnitzler
Copyright, 1907, by Courtland H. Young

HE could endure the quiet waiting in the carriage no longer; it was
easier to get out and walk up and down. It was now dark; the few
scattered lamps in the narrow side street quivered uneasily in the wind.
The rain had stopped, the sidewalks were almost dry, but the
rough-paved roadway was still moist, and little pools gleamed here and
there.
"Strange, isn't it?" thought Franz. "Here we are scarcely a hundred
paces from the Prater, and yet it might be a street in some little country
town. Well, it's safe enough, at any rate. She won't meet any of the
friends she dreads so much here."
He looked at his watch. "Only just seven, and so dark already! It is an
early autumn this year... and then this confounded storm I..." He turned
his coat-collar up about his neck and quickened his pacing. The glass in
the street lamps rattled lightly.
"Half an hour more," he said to himself, "then I can go home. I could
almost wish--that that half-hour were over." He stood for a moment on
the corner, where he could command a view of both streets. "She'll
surely come to-day," his thoughts ran on, while he struggled with his
hat, which threatened to blow away. "It's Friday.... Faculty meeting at
the University; she needn't hurry home." He heard the clanging of
street-car gongs, and the hour chimed from a nearby church tower. The
street became more animated. Hurrying figures passed him, clerks of
neighboring shops; they hastened onward, fighting against the storm.
No one noticed him; a couple of half-grown girls glanced up in idle
curiosity as they went by. Suddenly he saw a familiar figure coming
toward him. He hastened to meet her.... Could it be she? On foot?
She saw him, and quickened her pace.
"You are walking?" he asked.
"I dismissed the cab in front of the theatre. I think I've had that driver
before."
A man passed them, turning to look at the lady. Her companion glared

at him, and the other passed on hurriedly. The lady looked after him.
"Who was it?" she asked, anxiously.
"Don't know him. We'll see no one we know here, don't worry. But
come now, let's get into the cab."
"Is that your carriage?"
"Yes."
"An open one?"
"It was warm and pleasant when I engaged it an hour ago."
They walked to the carriage; the lady stepped in.
"Driver!" called the man.
"Why, where is he?" asked the lady.
Franz looked around. "Well, did you ever? I don't see him anywhere."
"Oh--" her tone was low and timid.
"Wait a moment, child, he must be around here somewhere."
The young man opened the door of a little saloon, and discovered his
driver at a table with several others. The man rose hastily. "In a minute,
sir," he explained, swallowing his glass of wine.
"What do you mean by this?"
"All right, sir... Be there in a minute." His step was a little unsteady as
he hastened to his horses. "Where'll you go, sir?"
"Prater--Summer-house."
Franz entered the carriage. His companion sat back in a corner,
crouching fearsomely under the shadow of the cover.

He took both her hands in his. She sat silent. "Won't you say good
evening to me?"
"Give me a moment to rest, dear. I'm still out of breath."
He leaned back in his corner. Neither spoke for some minutes. The
carriage turned into the Prater Street, passed the Tegethoff Monument,
and a few minutes later was rolling swiftly through the broad, dark
Prater Avenue.
Emma turned suddenly and flung both arms around her lover's neck. He
lifted the veil that still hung about her face, and kissed her.
"I have you again--at last!" she exclaimed.
"Do you know how long it is since we have seen each other?" he asked.
"Since Sunday."
"Yes, and that wasn't good for much."
"Why not? You were in our house."
"Yes--in your house. That's just it. This can't go on. I shall not enter
your house again.... What's the matter?"
"A carriage passed us."
"Dear girl, the people who
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