# Krakatit/Chapter 20

CHAPTER XX
The next day Prokop woke up with a terribly heavy head and at first could not realize where exactly he was; he waited for the sound of the clucking of the chickens or the resonant barking of Honzik. Slowly he realized that he was no longer in Tynice; that he was in bed in the hotel to which Carson had brought him completely drunk, roaring like an animal. Only when he put his head under a stream of cold water did he recall the happenings of the evening and could have sunk through the ground with shame.
They drank even during the meal, but only a little, enough to make them both very red in the face, and then went somewhere in the car along the edge of some woods so as to clear their heads. Prokop chattered the whole time without respite while Carson chewed the end of his cigar, nodded from time to time and said: “You will be a big man.” “Big man,” “big man,”’ echoed in Prokop’s head like the note of a gong; if only in such glory he could be seen by . . . that girl with the veil! He nearly burst with importance in talking to Carson, who only nodded his head like a mandarin and added fuel to the flame of his insane pride. In his ardour Prokop nearly fell out of the car; he was explaining his conception of the World Institute for Destructive Chemistry, Socialism, Marriage, the Education of ​Children and other nonsense. But in the evening they began with a vengeance. Where it was they drank, God alone knows; it was terrible. Carson, his face inflamed and his hat pushed down over his eyes, paid for all sorts of strangers, while some girls were dancing. Somebody broke some glasses and Prokop, sobbing, told Carson about his terrible love for the mysterious woman. On remembering this, Prokop clutched his head with shame and mortification.
Then they put him, shouting “Krakatit,” into the car. Heaven knows where they went; they dashed along endless roads, while beside Prokop there jumped up and down a fiery red spot which must have been Mr. Carson with his cigar. Mr. Carson, who hiccoughed “quicker, Bob” or something of the sort. Suddenly at a corner two lights rushed at them, some voices cried out, the car swung off the road, and Prokop was thrown head first on the grass, which brought him to his senses. There was a sound of several violently disputing voices, accusations of drunkenness. Mr. Carson swore terribly and muttered “now we must go back,” upon which, with thousands of precautions, they carried Prokop, as if he were seriously wounded, into the other car. Mr. Carson sat down next to him and they set out for home, Bob remaining with the injured vehicle. Half-way back the seriously wounded man began to sing rowdily, and just before reaching Prague found that he was thirsty again. They were obliged to go with him to several bars before he quieted down.
Prokop studied his disfigured face in the glass ​with dark aversion. In this painful occupation he was interrupted by the hotel porter who, with due apologies, brought him a registration form to fill up. Prokop put down the necessary particulars and hoped that he had dealt with the matter; but scarcely had the porter read his name than he became excited and begged Prokop not to leave the room. A certain gentleman from abroad had asked him to telephone to him at his hotel the moment he learned that Eng. Prokop had arrived. If Mr. Eng. would allow it, etc. Mr. Eng. was so furious with himself that he would have allowed him to cut his throat. He sat down to wait, painfully resigning himself to enduring the pain in his head. In a quarter of an hour the porter was back and handed him a card. On it was printed:
SIR REGINALD CARSON President of the International Wireless Corporation London
“Show him in,” ordered Prokop, and he was extremely surprised that that fellow Carson had not told him the evening before about his honours and that to-day he should have arrived so ceremoniously; he was also a little curious to see how Carson would look after that wild night. Then his eyes simply started out of his head with astonishment. There came into the room a completely strange gentleman, a good foot taller than the Mr. Carson of yesterday.
“Very glad to see you,” said the strange gentleman slowly, and bowed just as low as if he had been a telegraph pole.
​Prokop made an indeterminate noise and gave him a seat. The gentleman sat down on it squarely and began very leisurely to peel off a pair of magnificent kid gloves. He was a very tall and extraordinarily serious gentleman with a horse-like face with very precise lines on it. In his tie-pin was an enormous Indian opal, on his gold watch-chain an antique cameo. He had the enormous feet of a golf player, and was, in brief, every inch an English gentleman. Prokop was stupefied. “Please?” he managed to say finally, when the silence had become unbearable.
The gentleman was in no hurry. “Without doubt,” he began slowly in English, “without doubt you must have been surprised when you first came across my announcement in the paper. I assume that you are Eng. Prokop, the author of some extremely interesting articles on explosives.”
Prokop nodded silently.
“I am very glad to meet you,” said Sir Reginald without haste. “I have been wanting to see you in connection with a matter of great scientific interest and practically of great importance for our company, the International Wireless Corporation, whose president I have the honour to be. It is of no less importance for the International Union for Wireless Telegraphy, who have been so good as to elect me as their general secretary. You will certainly be somewhat astonished,” he continued without being out of breath, “that these important concerns should have sent me to see you when your distinguished work is in quite another field. Allow me.” With these words Sir Reginald opened his ​crocodile leather wallet and pulled out some papers, a writing block and a gold pencil.
“About nine months ago,” he began slowly, putting a pair of gold pince-nez on his nose so as to see better, “the European wireless stations noticed the fact——”
“Pardon me,” Prokop interrupted him, unable to control himself, “did you put those announcements in the papers?”
“Certainly I did. The stations became aware, then, of certain regular disturbances——”
“—on Tuesdays and Fridays, I know. Who told you about Krakatit?”
“I proposed to come to that later,” said this venerable gentleman somewhat reproachfully. “Well, I will pass over the details, assuming that to a certain extent you are informed regarding our aims and oh—eh—ah——”
“—regarding a secret international conspiracy, eh?”
Sir Reginald opened his pale blue eyes very wide. “Excuse me, but to what conspiracy do you refer?”
“Well, to those secret messages at night, to the secret organization which sends them out——”
Sir Reginald cut him short. “Fantasy,” he said regretfully, “pure fantasy. I am aware that the Tribune when our company advertised such a relatively large reward . . . circulated the report——”
“I know,” said Prokop quickly, afraid that this leisurely gentleman would begin to discuss the point.
“Yes. Pure invention. The whole business has nothing but a commercial basis. It is in the interests of a certain person to demonstrate the unre​liability of our stations, if you understand me. He wishes to undermine public confidence. Unfortunately our receivers and—ah—coherers are unable to discover the particular type of waves which bring this disturbance about. And since we have received reports to the effect that you have in your possession a certain substance or chemical which reacts in the most remarkable way to these disturbances——”
“Reports from whom?”
“From your colleague, Mr.—ah—Mr. Thomas. Mr. Thomas—ah.” Sir Reginald extracted a letter from the bundle of papers he had brought with him. “‘Dear Sir,’” he read with a certain amount of effort, “‘I have seen in the newspapers an announcement of a reward, etc., etc. As at the present moment it is impossible for me to leave Balttin, where I am at work in connection with a certain discovery, and as a matter of such importance cannot be dealt with by letter, I beg you to seek out in Prague a friend of mine with whom I have worked for many years, Mr. Eng. Prokop, who is in possession of a newly discovered substance, Krakatit, the tetrargon of a certain lead salt, the synthesis of which is made by utilizing the effect of a high frequency current. Krakatit reacts, as various exact experiments have demonstrated, to certain mysterious disturbing waves by a powerful explosion, from which it follows that it will have decisive significance for determining the nature of the waves in question. In view of the importance of the matter I would suggest, on behalf of myself and my friend, that the reward offered should be considerably rai——’” Sir Reginald cleared his throat. “That is really all,” ​he said. “We could discuss the question of the reward separately. Signed by Mr. Thomas in Balttin.”
“H’m,” said Prokop, possessed by a sudden serious suspicion, “that such a personal . . . unreliable . . . fantastic report should suffice for the International Wireless Corporation.”
“I beg your pardon,” retorted Sir Reginald, “needless to say we have received very precise reports regarding certain experiments in Balttin——”
“Aha! from a certain Saxon laboratory assistant, eh?”
“No. From our own representative. I’ll read you it now.” Sir Reginald again rummaged in his papers. “Here we are. ‘Dear Sir, the local stations have so far been unable to overcome the disturbances in question. Attempts at using greater power for transmission purposes have completely failed. I have received a report from a reliable informant to the effect that the military works in Balttin have acquired a certain quantity of some substance——’”
There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” said Prokop, and the waiter entered with a visiting card: “Some gentleman is asking.——”
On the card were the words:
MR. CARSON Balttin
“Show him in,” said Prokop, suddenly violently angry and completely ignoring Sir Reginald’s gesture of protest. ​A moment afterwards the Mr. Carson of yesterday, his face bearing evident marks of lack of sleep, walked into the room and made towards Prokop, evidently delighted to see him again.