Month 66: Pages 95-97

This Month's Installment

As always, what's italicized is what I'm unsure about.

     "Refused!" it sounded through the hall of the "Sea Star" at the same hour two days later, "refused, as was foreseen!  The courier has just brought the news."
     "Then we'll have the war!"
     Finally, one decided to go into the dining room.  The maids served the plates, the head waiter went in inaudible, gliding step from table to table to present the wine list and to ask about wishes; now everything was in the old way.  Even conversation, conducted so lively earlier, had reduced to that subdued degree that was in the habit of prevailing at the common meals, indeed, one spoke even less than usual, everyone appeared occupied with his thoughts and plans.  The mood was visibly depressed, in some faces a distinct expression of worry and fear appeared.
     Involuntarily, Hans' eye scanned the Russian councillor.  No muscle moved in his yellowish face, he sat there with the same fixed expression, kept a tight rein on every movement of his children with the same stern look, and now and then exchanged the usual words and looks with Nuscha.  She, however, appeared to him to-day different than usual; a soft flush lay in her sharply-cut 

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profile, a certain unease was in her bearing.  Only when the examining gaze from the other side also passed over them did she become calm.  But one noticed that she did violence to herself.

     Days full of hot excitement followed.  The Kurkappelle played only patriotic tunes, a thick cluster of people stood around it, clapt enthusiastic applause, and sang the "Lieb Vaterland, kannst ruhig sein!" until late at night.  Out of the coffee houses and restaurants rang by turns the German and Austrian national anthems.  A stream of the enthusiasm and of the cheerful confidence pervaded the same people who usually had an eye and heart only for idle prattle, games, and sport.
     The excitement rose and surged and boiled like the sea on her worst days.  The office of the "Seastar," which lay under the hall, was now besieged by the guests at all times of the day, and the master of the house had nothing to do but write bills, answer a thousand questions, and give all sorts of explanations about railway connections and steamship trips.  Everyone prepared for the withdrawal and rushed home as fast as possible.
     Even Hans had packt his things and handed them over to the porter for forwarding to the train station.  When he came down from the great hall in the early morning of the last July dawn, which was hot from the beginning and shining in the pure golden sun that had risen over the sea, there was hardly anything to see.  Mountains of suitcases piled up, only with trouble was the way between them kept free.
     Although the seventh hour had only just struck,

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in which everyone here usually lay in the deepest sleep, most had already breakfasted.  He had to wait, there was no one there for service, everyone was busy with the departure.  A surging and running, a calling and asking, a searching for all sorts of forgotten or hidden items filled the hall and the side rooms, so that one could believe that a fire had suddenly broken out and everyone saved and gathered together what was still possible to save.  The whole thing seemed like an escape; the promenade, usually completely empty at this time, was swarming with people as far as one could see.  Because yester-day in the late evening the news had come that the political situation had come to a head, the peace negotiations of the German Kaiser had failed, and a European war would be certain.  Now there was no more stopping.  Homeward!  That was the only thought, the burning wish, that fulfilled everything.

Grammatical Minutiae/Commentary

I think that "haben" in the sentence "Dann haben wir den Krieg!" is meant to be understood as something of a future tense even though it's actually in the present.  In any case, I translated it as if it were a future:  "Then we'll have the war!"

I didn't translate "Lieb Vaterland, kannst ruhig sein" because I think this is the actual title of a song.  I did a bit of research and found this postcard from 1914:

It translates to something like:

Dear Fatherland, you can be calm
You need never lose heart
You have the right helmsman
In these difficult days

This is the end of chapter seventeen and the beginning of chapter eighteen.