Reader's Club

Home Category

The Military Philosophers - Anthony Powell [67]

By Root 6910 0
‘Sir?’

General Asbj0rnsen gave his attention.

‘Major Prasad has asked me if you would possibly consider surrendering to him the room with the bath?’

General Asbjornsen looked absolutely dumbfounded. He did not show the smallest degree of annoyance, merely stark disbelief that he had rightly grasped the meaning of the question.

‘But – I have the bath.’

‘I know, sir. That was why I was asking.’

‘I am there.’

‘That’s just it, sir. Major Prasad wants it.’

‘He wants it?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘The bathroom?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘But – the bathroom – it is for me.’

‘It’s a very special request, sir.’

General Asbjornsen’s face by now showed at least that he accepted the request as a special one. It was only too easy to understand his surprise, the fact that the idea took some time to penetrate. This was not at all on account of any language difficulty. General Asbjornsen spoke English with the greatest fluency. As the conception began to take shape in his mind that Prasad’s designs on the bath were perfectly serious, the earlier look of wonder had changed to one of displeasure. His face hardened. Bobrowski, who loved action, especially if it offered conflict, grasping that a superbly comic tussle was promised, now joined in.

‘You are trying to take General Asbjornsen’s bath away from him, Major Jenkins?’

‘It’s for Major Prasad, sir, he —’

‘I don’t believe it, Major Jenkins, I believe you want it for yourself.’

Bobrowski had begun to laugh a lot.

‘It is the particular wish of Major Prasad, sir —’

‘Look here,’ said Asbjornsen, ‘I have the bath. I keep it.’

That was the crux of the matter. There was no arguing. I had hoped, without much conviction, to achieve General Asbjornsen’s dislodgment without playing Prasad’s trump card. Now this would have to be thrown on the table. It had become clear that much more discussion of this sort, to the accompaniment of Bobrowski’s determination to treat the matter as a huge joke, would make Asbjornsen more intractable than ever.

‘It’s a question of religion, sir.*

‘What?’

‘Major Prasad requires the room for religious reasons.’

That silenced them both. The statement, at least for the moment, made even more impression than I had hoped.

‘Religion?’ repeated Bobrowski.

I wished he would keep out of it. The bathroom was no business of his. By now I was entirely on Prasad’s side, dedicated to obtaining the bathroom for whatever purpose he needed it.

‘But this is a new idea,’ said Bobrowski. ‘I had not thought that was how baths are allotted on this tour. I am Catholic, what chance have I?’

‘Sir —’

‘Now I see why General Philidor went off to bed without even asking for the bathroom. Like many Frenchmen, he is perhaps free-thinker. He would have no chance for the bath. You would not let him, Major Jenkins. No religion – no bath. That is what you say. It is not fair.’

Bobrowski thought it all the funniest thing he had ever heard in his life. He laughed and laughed. Perhaps, in the long run, the conclusion of the matter owed something to this laughter of Bobrowski’s, because General Asbjornsen may have suspected that, if much more argument were carried on in this frivolous atmosphere, there was danger of his being made to look silly himself. Grasp of that fact after so comparatively short an interlude of Bobrowski’s intervention did Asbjornsen credit.

‘You can really assure me then, Major Jenkins, that this is, as you have reported, a question of religion.’

‘I can assure you of that, sir.’

‘You are in no doubt?’

‘Absolutely none, sir.’

‘In that case, I agree to the proposal.’

General Asbjornsen almost came to attention.

‘Thank you, sir. Thank you very much indeed. Major Prasad will be most grateful. I will inform Colonel Finn when I see him.’

‘Come upstairs and help me with my valise.’

The gruffness of General Asbj0rnsen’s tone was fully justified. I followed him to the disputed room, and was relieved to see the valise on the floor still unpacked. The bathroom door was open. It seemed an apartment designed for the ablutions of a very thin dwarf, one of Mime’s kind. However, spatial content was neither here nor there. The point was, Prasad must have it. I took one end of the valise, Asbj0rnsen the other. Prasad was peeping through the crack of his door. When informed of the way the battle had gone, he came out into the passage. Asbjornsen was not ungracious about his renunciation. Prasad expressed a lot of thanks, but was unaware, I think, that the victory, like Waterloo, had been

Return Main Page Previous Page Next Page

®Reader's Club