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Updated: September 22, 2025
These were the only words he had spoken the entire evening. He departed; the company was profoundly impressed. About twenty minutes later, when Marcus Schouler was entertaining the guests by eating almonds, shells and all, Mr. Sieppe started to his feet, watch in hand. "Haf-bast elevun," he shouted. "Attention! Der dime haf arrive, shtop eferyting. We depart."
"The man's made of iron." Meanwhile, McTeague went storming up the street toward the flat, wagging his head and grumbling to himself. Ah, Marcus would break his pipe, would he? Ah, he was a zinc-plugger, was he? He'd show Marcus Schouler. No one should make small of him. He tramped up the stairs to Marcus's room. The door was locked.
"I'd tell you, Zerkow, if I knew; but I don' know nothing about it. How can I tell you if I don' know?" Then one evening matters reached a crisis. Marcus Schouler was in his room, the room in the flat just over McTeague's "Parlors" which he had always occupied. It was between eleven and twelve o'clock.
Goulden and I left the square arm in arm, crying, "Vive l'Empereur!" also, and as at each discharge of cannon the flash lighted up the square, in one of them we saw Catherine, who was coming to meet us with old Madelon Schouler. She had put on her little cloak and hood, protecting her rosy little nose from the mist, and she exclaimed, on seeing us: "There they are, Madelon!
"There has been some controversy in military circles," wrote General Schouler, "as to which company can claim the honor of first reaching Boston. I can answer, that the first were the three companies of the Eighth Regiment belonging to Marblehead, commanded by Captains Martin, Phillips and Boardman.
He drank again with Heise. "Get up here to the stove and warm yourself," urged Heise, drawing up a couple of chairs and cocking his feet upon the guard. The two fell to talking while McTeague's draggled coat and trousers smoked. "What a dirty turn that was that Marcus Schouler did you!" said Heise, wagging his head. "You ought to have fought that, Doc, sure. You'd been practising too long."
"You should notice," the dressmaker said to the dentist, in a low voice, "he always leaves the door a little ajar in the afternoon." When she had gone out, Marcus Schouler brought Trina forward. "Say, Mac, this is my cousin, Trina Sieppe." The two shook hands dumbly, McTeague slowly nodding his huge head with its great shock of yellow hair. Trina was very small and prettily made.
Do you remember our first picnic, Mac?" "Sure, sure," replied the dentist; "we had a Gotha truffle." "And August lost his steamboat," put in Trina, "and papa smacked him. I remember it just as well." "Why, look there," said Mrs. Heise, nodding at a figure coming up the companion-way. "Ain't that Mr. Schouler?" It was Marcus, sure enough.
Marcus Schouler, perfectly at his ease, stood in the doorway, smiling with great affability. "Say," he remarked, "can I come in?" Taken all aback, Trina could only answer: "Why I suppose so. Yes, of course come in." "Yes, yes, come in," exclaimed the dentist, suddenly, speaking without thought. "Have some beer?" he added, struck with an idea. "No, thanks, Doctor," said Marcus, pleasantly.
Schouler could not have set them on to do it. I can't quite believe it of him." "Of Marcus!" cried Trina. "Hoh! Why, he threw his knife at Mac one time, and another time he bit him, actually bit him with his teeth, while they were wrestling just for fun. Marcus would do anything to injure Mac." "Dear, dear," returned Old Grannis, genuinely pained.
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