There were now so many contractors for the Emperor William Monument, thanks to his efforts, that the town would never be able to pay them, not if old Kühlemann were to die and leave his money three times over I Hornung's hands were swollen from shaking those of all the newly converted patriots! They had asked too much of him; that he should associate with druggists was the least of his grievances. But Gottlieb Hornung protested against this democratic lack of respect for rank. The proprietor of the pharmacy had just given him notice to leave, but he was more determined than ever to sell neither tooth-brushes nor combs. … Meanwhile Kunze was stammering through his speech. His gloomy air was proof to Diederich that the major was not at all sure of what he wanted to say, and that he was more embarrassed by the election than he would have been in a really grave crisis. He was saying: "The army, gentlemen, is our only support," but as a heckler in Heuteufel's neighbourhood shouted: "It is rotten!" Kunze immediately lost his head, and added: "But who pays for it? The citizens." At this the people near Heuteufel shouted bravo. Thereby forced into a false position, Kunze began to explain: "Therefore, we are all supports, on that we must insist, and woe to the King who—" "Hear! Hear!" replied the Liberal voters, and they were joined by the right-thinking patriots. The major wiped the perspiration from his brow. In spite of himself his speech was developing as if it had been addressed to a Liberal meeting. From behind Diederich kept pulling his coat-tails and begged him to stop, but it was in vain that Kunze essayed to do so. He could not make a transition to the electoral slogan of the Emperor's Party. Finally he lost patience, turned suddenly very red, and with unexpected ferocity, he yelled: "Stamp them out root and branch!" The Veterans' Association thundered its applause. Whenever people were not applauding Klappsch and his daughter hastened with beer, at a sign from Diederich.

Dr. Heuteufel at once asked for permission to take part in the discussion, but Gottlieb Hornung got in before him. Diederich, for his part, preferred to remain in; the background, behind the cloud of smoke which enveloped the platform. He had promised Hornung ten marks and the latter was not in a position to refuse. Gnashing his teeth he stepped over to the edge of the platform, and began to explain the speech of the gallant major, by saying that the army, for which we are all prepared to make any sacrifice, was our bulwark against the turbid flood of democracy. "Democracy is the philosophy of the half-educated," said the apothecary. "It has been defeated by science." Some one shouted: "Hear! Hear!" It was the druggist who wished to associate with him: "There will always be masters and men," asserted Gottlieb Hornung, "for it is the same in nature. It is the one great truth, for each of us must have a superior to fear, and an inferior to frighten. What would become of us otherwise? If every nonentity believes that he is somebody, and that we are all equal! Unhappy the nation whose traditional and honourable social forms are broken up by the solvent of democracy, and which allows the disintegrating standpoint of personality to get the upper hand!"

Here Gottlieb Hornung folded his arms and thrust forward his head. "I," he cried, "who have been a member of a crack corps and know what it is to shed my blood gladly for the colours—I refuse to sell tooth-brushes!" "Or sponges, either?" asked a voice.

"Or sponges either!" said Hornung decisively. "I emphatically forbid any one else to ask that of me. People should always know with what sort of a person they are dealing. Honour to whom honour is due. And in that sense we give our votes to the one candidate who will allow the Emperor as many soldiers as he wants. Either we have an Emperor or we have not!"

Then Gottlieb Hornung stepped back and, with pugnaciously protruding jaw and wrinkled brow, gazed at the applauding audience. The Veterans' Association would not be deprived of the opportunity to march past him and Kunze with upraised beer glasses. Kunze received handshakes, Hornung stood there stolidly—and Diederich could not but feel rather bitterly that these two second-rate personalities had all the advantage of a situation which he had created. He had to leave to them the popular approval of the moment, for he knew better than these two simpletons where it was all going to lead. As the national candidate's sole reason for existence was to procure reinforcements for Napoleon Fischer, it was wiser not to go forward oneself. But Heuteufel was anxious to draw Diederich out. Pastor Zillich, the chairman, could not refuse any longer to allow him to take the floor. He began at once about the Infant Asylum; it was a matter of humanity and social conscience. What was the Emperor William Monument? A speculation, and vanity was not the most discreditable part of the speculators' calculations. … The contractors in the rear listened in a silence filled with painful feelings, which here and there found expression in a muffled murmur. Diederich was trembling. "There are people," Heuteufel declared, "who do not mind another million for the army, for they know how they can get some of it back to their own profit." Then Diederich jumped up. "I wish to say a word!" With cries of "Bravo!" "Ha, ha!* "Sit down," the contractors relieved their feelings. They yelled until Heuteufel made way for Diederich.

Diederich waited for some time before the storm of patriotic indignation had subsided. Then he began: "Gentlemen!" "Bravo!" shouted the contractors and Diederich had to wait again, in that atmosphere of feeling identical with his own, in which he breathed so easily. When they allowed him to speak he gave expression to the general indignation that the previous speaker had dared to cast suspicions upon the loyal sentiments of the meeting. "Shame!" cried the contractors. "This only proves," said Diederich, "how opportune has been the founding of the 'Emperor's Party—' The Emperor himself has commanded all those to join hands who, whether nobles or commoners, wish to free him from the revolutionary pest. That is our purpose, and therefore our loyal and patriotic sentiments are far above the suspicions of those who themselves are nothing but the forerunners of revolt!" Before the applause could break out, Heuteufel said in a very loud tone: "Wait until the second ballot!" Although the contractors immediately drowned the rest in the noise of their clapping, Diederich scented so much danger in these words that he hastened to change the subject. The Infant Asylum was on less treacherous ground. What? A matter of social conscience, they said! It was an encouragement to vice. "We Germans leave such things to the French, a decadent people!" Diederich had only to repeat an article he had sent to the "Netzig Journal." Pastor Zillich's Young Men's Christian Association and the Christian Clerks' Association applauded every word. "The Teuton is chaste," cried Diederich, "that is why we won in the year seventy!" Now it was the turn of the Veterans' Association to give the noisiest signs of enthusiasm. Kühnchen jumped up behind the chairman's table, waved his cigar and screamed: "We'll soon smash 'em again!" Diederich raised himself on his toes, "Gentlemen," he shouted, carried away on the tide of national emotion, "the Emperor William Monument shall be a mark of reverence for the noble grandfather whom we all, I think I may say, worship almost as a saint, and also a pledge to the noble nephew, our magnificent young Emperor, that we shall ever remain as we are, pure, liberty-loving, truthful, brave and true!"

Latterly Guste had begun to be peevish, and to have fits of sickness, during which Frau Hessling had to take care of her in the bedroom. As soon as she felt better she would remind the old lady that everything there had been really paid with her money. Frau Hessling never failed to describe the marriage with her Diedel as a real mercy for Guste in the peculiar circumstances of her position at the time. The end would be that Guste's cheeks were swollen red with rage and she was fuming, while Frau Hessling shed tears. Diederich profited by this, for afterwards each of them was as affectionate as possible towards him, with the object, which he did not suspect, of bringing him onto her side.

So far as Emma was concerned, as was her custom, she simply slammed the door and went up to her room, which had a slanting roof. Guste kept wondering how she could drive her even out of that. Where were they to dry the washing when it rained? If Emma couldn't get a husband, because she had no money, they would simply have to marry her to some one beneath her socially, some honest artisan. But, as a matter of fact, she was the swell member of the family, she visited the Brietzens. … For it was this that embittered Guste most. Emma was invited by the Fraulein von Brietzen, although they had never set foot in her house. Their brother, the lieutenant, would at least have owed Guste a visit for the suppers her mother had given, but he condescended to visit only the second story of Hessling's house, it was absolutely notorious. … Her social successes, however, did not prevent Emma from having days of the utmost depression. Then she would not even leave her room for meals, which were eaten in common. Once Guste went up to her, out of pity and sheer boredom, but when Emma saw her she shut her eyes, and lay there, pale and motionless, in her flowing morning wrap. Getting no answer, Guste tried to exchange confidences about Diederich and her own condition. Then Emma's rigid face contracted suddenly, she turned on one of her arms and with the other pointed violently to the door. Guste did not fail to express her indignation. Emma jumped up impetuously, and clearly gave her to understand that she wished to be alone. When old Frau Hessling came up it was already decided that the two families in future would have their meals apart. When Guste came weeping to Diederich, he was unpleasantly disturbed by these women's quarrels. Fortunately he had an idea which seemed to promise immediate peace. He went to Emma and announced that he had decided to send her to stay for a while in Eschweiler with Magda. To his amazement, she declined to go. As he kept insisting, she was on the point of flaring up, but she was suddenly seized as if by some fear, and began to beg softly and entreatingly to be allowed to stay. Diederich, touched by an ill-defined emotion, looked help lessly around the room and then retreated.

The following day Emma appeared at lunch as if nothing had happened; her cheeks were freshly coloured and she was in the best of humours. Guste, who was all the more reserved, kept exchanging glances with Diederich. Thinking he understood, he raised his glass to Emma, and said teasingly: "Prosit, Frau von Brietzen." Emma turned deadly pale. "Don't make an ass of yourself," she cried angrily, throwing down her napkin and banging the door after her. "Hello!" growled Diederich, but Guste merely shrugged her shoulders. It was only after old Frau Hessling had gone that she gave Diederich a curious look and asked: "Do you really think …?" He winced, but looked inquiringly. "I mean," Guste explained, "that the lieutenant might at least salute me in the street. To-day he went out of his way to avoid me." Diederich thought this was all nonsense. Guste replied: "If I only imagine it, then I imagine other things as well, because at night I have many times heard something creeping through the house, and to-day Minna said—" Guste got no further. "Ah," Diederich fumed, "you are hobnobbing with the servants! Mother always used to do that. All I can tell you is, that I won't have it. I alone can watch over the honour of my family and do not need either Minna's assistance or yours. If you don't agree with me, then the pair of you know where the door is through which you came!" Naturally, Guste could only bow in the face of this virile attitude, but she smiled slily after him as he went out.

For his part, Diederich was happy at having disposed of the matter by his firm procedure. He could not allow his life to become any more complicated than it was at that time. His hoarseness, which had unfortunately kept him out of the struggle for three days, had not been overlooked by the enemy. In fact, Napoleon Fischer had told him only that morning that the "Emperor's Party" was getting too strong for him, and had been stirring up feeling against the Social Democrats too much lately. In these circumstances. … In order to quiet him Diederich had to promise to carry out his bargain that very day, and ask the town councillors to sanction the Social Democratic Trade Union Hall. … So, although his throat was not quite well, he went to the meeting—and there he discovered that the motion concerning the Trade Union Hall had just been introduced; by Messrs. Cohn and company, moreover! The Liberals voted for it, and it went through as smoothly as if it had been the most ordinary measure. Diederich who wished to scourge openly the national treason of Cohn and his comrades, could only bark hoarsely. This clever trick had once more robbed him of his voice. No sooner had he got home than he sent for Napoleon Fischer.

"You are dismissed!" Diederich bellowed. The machinist grinned ambiguously. "All right," said he, preparing to go. "Stop!" shouted Diederich. "Don't think you are going to get off so easily as that. If you join with the Liberals, then you may be sure I will make our agreement public! I'll show you!"

"Politics is politics," Napoleon remarked with a shrug, and as Diederich could not bellow any more in the face of such cynicism, Napoleon Fischer stepped nearer confidentially, and almost tapped Diederich on the shoulder. "Dr. Hessling," he said amiably, "Don't you do that. We two—yes, I say we two. … His grin was so full of threats that Diederich shuddered. He quickly offered Napoleon Fischer a cigar. Fischer smoked and said:

"If one of us two were to begin talking where would the other stop? Ain't I right, Dr. Hessling? But we are not a pair of old chatterboxes who have to blab everything immediately, like Herr Buck for example."

"What do you mean?" asked Diederich dully, as he fell into one fright after another. The machinist professed to be astonished. "Don't you know? Herr Buck goes about everywhere saying that you do not really mean all that patriotic stuff so badly. You simply want to get Gausenfeld cheap, and you think you will get it cheaper if Klüsing is frightened about certain contracts because he is not a patriot."

"Is that what he says?" asked Diederich, who felt stunned.

"That's what he says," Fischer repeated. "And he also says he will do you a favour and speak a word in your behalf to Klüsing. Then you will probably be quieter, he says."

Then a weight was lifted from Diederich's heart. "Fischer," he said with a short bark, "just you watch what happens. You will see old Buck standing in the gutter begging. That's what you'll see. I'll answer for it, Fischer. Good-bye."

Old Buck had blue eyes, a benevolent smile, and he was the most treacherous dog of all those who threatened the loyalists. The thought of old Buck held Diederich as if in a dream. The next evening, under the light of the domestic lamp, he was so busy with imaginary moves against old Buck that he did not hear the family when they spoke to him. He was particularly embittered because he had looked upon the old man as a toothless old chatterbox, and now he was showing his teeth. After all his humanitarian phrase-making it seemed a challenge to Diederich that he did not now allow himself to be simply gobbled up. The hypocritical gentleness with which he pretended he had forgiven Diederich the ruin of his son-in-law! Why had he protected him? Got him onto the Town Council? Only so that Diederich might give himself away and be more easily caught. The old man's question at that time, whether Diederich wanted to sell his property to the town, now appeared as the most dangerous trap. Diederich felt as if his game had been seen through all the time. He now felt as if old Buck had been present, invisible in the clouds of smoke, at his secret interview with Governor von Wulckow. When Diederich had crept along to Gausenfeld one dark winter's night, and had hidden in the ditch, shutting his eyes which had perhaps gleamed, old Buck had passed above him and peeped down at him. … In his imagination Diederich saw the old gentleman stooping over him, and stretching out his soft white hand to help him out of the ditch. The kindness in his face was simply mockery, it was more unbearable than anything else. He thought he could make Diederich docile, and with his tricks bring him back like the prodigal son. But they would see which of them would end by eating husks.

"What is the matter, my dear child?" asked Frau Hessling, for Diederich had groaned aloud from hate and fear. He gave a start. At that moment Emma was walking across the room, it seemed to Diederich that she had already done so several times. She went to the window, put her head out, sighed, as if there was nobody present, and walked back. Guste looked after her, and as Emma passed in front of Diederich, Guste's mocking look covered them both. And this startled Diederich more than ever, for this was the revolutionary smile which he had learnt to recognise in Napoleon Fischer. Guste was smiling in the same way. He wrinkled his brow in terror and shouted sharply: "What's the matter?" Immediately Guste was plunged in her darning, but Emma stood still and gazed at him with those dulled eyes which she now sometimes had. "What's wrong with you?" he asked, as she remained silent. "Whom are you looking for in the street?" She merely shrugged her shoulders, but her face remained motionless. "Well?" he repeated more softly, for her look, her demeanour, which seemed remarkably indifferent and therefore, superior, made it difficult for him to be rough. Finally she decided to speak.

"It was possible that the two Fraulein von Britzens might have come."

"So late at night?" asked Diederich. Then Guste said: "Because we are not accustomed to that honour. And anyhow, they went away yesterday with their mamma. If they do not even say good-bye to people, because they do not even know them, all one has to do is to go past their villa to know that they are gone."

"What?" said Emma.

He had not yet reached the stairs when the door above was closed noisily with lock and bolt. Then Diederich's heart began to beat so fast that he had to stop. By the time he reached the top the voice with which he asked permission to enter was weak and breathless. There was no answer, but he heard something rattle on the washstand—and suddenly he waved his arms, shouted, banged on the door and yelled madly. Because of his own noise he did not hear her opening the door, and he was still shouting when she stood before him. "What do you want?" she asked angrily, whereupon Diederich recovered himself. From the stairs Frau Hessling and Guste were peeping up, out of horrified curiosity. "Stay down!" he commanded, pushing Emma back into the room. He shut the door. "The others needn't smell this," he said sharply, and he took out of the wash-jug a small sponge dripping with chloroform. He held it away from him with outstretched arm and asked: "Where did you get this?" She tossed her head and looked at him without replying. The longer this lasted the more unimportant Diederich felt the question becoming, which should, by rights, have been the first. Finally, he simply went to the window and threw out the sponge into the dark courtyard. There was a splash. It had fallen into the brook. Diederich gave a sigh of relief.

Now it was Emma's turn to ask questions. "What do you think you are doing up here? Kindly allow me to do what I think fit." This came to him as a surprise. "Yes, but … what are you doing?" She looked away and replied with a shrug: "That doesn't matter." "Oh, come now!" Diederich was indignant. "If you no longer have any respect for your divine Judge, which I personally cannot approve of, you might, at least, have a little regard for us here. You are not alone in the world."

Her indifference wounded him deeply. "I will have no scandal in my house. T am the first person who will suffer."

He snapped: "My honour—" but stopped suddenly. Her expression, which had never seemed to him so eloquent, seemed to accuse and to mock him at the same time. In confusion he went to the door. Here it dawned on him what he ought to have done.

"At all events, as your brother and a man of honour, I will, of course, do my duty. Meanwhile I expect you to impose upon yourself the utmost reserve." With a glance at the wash-jug, from which there was still a smell:

"Your word of honour!"

"Leave me alone," said Emma. Then Diederich came back.

"You do not seem to be aware of the seriousness of the situation. If what I fear is true, you have—"

"It is true," said Emma.

"Then you have not only risked your own existence, at least socially, but you have covered a whole family with shame."

"That is also possible," said Emma.

He was startled and was preparing to express his loathing of such cynicism, but it was too plain from Emma's face all that she had been through and had left behind her as useless.

Diederich shuddered at the superiority of her desperation. He felt as if certain artificial springs had snapped inside him. His legs trembled, he sat down, and managed to say: "Can't you just tell me—I will also—" He looked at Emma's appearance and the word pardon stuck in his throat. "I will help you," he said. "How can you make that right?" she answered wearily, as she leant against the wall.

He looked down in front of him. "Of course, you must give me some information, I mean, about certain details. I presume this has gone on since your riding-lessons?"

She allowed him to make further suppositions, which she neither confirmed nor denied. But when he raised his eyes to her, her lips were softly parted and she was gazing at him in wonder. He understood that she was wondering how he was relieving her of so much she had borne alone, merely because he mentioned it aloud. An unfamiliar pride possessed him. He stood up and said confidingly: "You can leave it to me. First thing to-morrow morning I'll go there."

"You don't understand. It is all over."

Then his voice became benevolent. "We are not absolutely without weapons. Wait until I see him!"

He gave her his hand as they parted. She called him back again.

"Are you going to challenge him?" Her eyes were staring wide open and she held her hands to her lips.

"Why do you ask?" said Diederich, for he ceased to think of this.

"Swear that you will not challenge him!"

He promised. At the same time he blushed, for he would like to have known for whom she feared, for him or the other. He would not have liked it to be the other, but he stifled the question, because it might have been painful for her to answer, and he tiptoed out of the room.

He ordered the two women, who still waited below, sternly to bed. He lay down beside Guste only after she had fallen asleep. He had to think over what he would do the next day. Make an impression, of course! Admit of no possible doubt as to the outcome of the affair! But instead of his own smart figure, Diederich saw again and again in his imagination a stout man with pale troubled eyes, who begged, raged and finally collapsed: Herr Göppel, Agnes Göppel's father. Now in his terrified soul Diederich understood what the father must then have felt. "You don't understand," said Emma. He did understand what he himself had done.

"God forbid!" he said aloud, as he turned over. "I won't be drawn into this business. Emma was only bluffing with the chloroform. Women are depraved enough for that. I'll throw her out, as she deserves!" Then Agnes appeared before him in the rainy street and stared up at his window, the pale reflection of the gas light on her face. He pulled the bedclothes over his eyes. "I can't drive her onto the streets!" Morning dawned and he was amazed at what had happened to him.

"Lieutenants get up early," he thought, and he slipped off before Guste was awake. Beyond the Saxon Gate the gardens were full of perfume and twittering, beneath the spring skies. The villas, still closed up, looked as if they had been freshly washed, and as if innumerable newly-married couples had rented them. "Who knows," thought Diederich as he breathed in the pure air, "perhaps it will not be difficult. They are decent people. The circumstances also are essentially more favourable than—" He preferred not to complete the thought. There in the distance a cab stopped—before which house was it? Yes, it was. The iron gate stood open and also the door. The officer's servant came towards him. "It doesn't matter," said Diederich, "I'll see the lieutenant." Right in the room facing them Herr von Brietzen was packing a trunk. "So early," he was saying, let the lid of the trunk fall and caught his finger. "Damn it!" was Diederich's discouraging reflection, "he, too, is busy packing."

"To what chance am I indebted—" began Herr von Brietzen, but involuntarily Diederich made a movement which signified that this was superfluous. Nevertheless, Herr von Brietzen denied everything. He denied even longer than Diederich had done, and Diederich recognised this fact inwardly, for when a girl's honour was at stake a lieutenant had to be several degrees more punctilious than a Neo-Teuton. When they had finally got the whole situation straight, Herr von Brietzen at once placed himself at Diederich's disposal, as was certainly expected of him. But in spite of his deadly fear, Diederich replied cheerfully that he hoped a decision with arms might be unnecessary, provided Herr von Brietzen— And Herr von Brietzen assumed exactly the expression Diederich had foreseen, and used exactly those expressions which Diederich had heard in his imagination. When driven into a corner, he uttered the sentence which Diederich dreaded most, and which, he admitted, could not be avoided. A girl who had lost her virtue could not be selected as the mother of one's children. Diederich replied to this as Herr Göppel had replied, and was as crushed as Herr Göppel. He did not get really angry until he came out with his big threat, the threat with which he had been promising himself success since yesterday.

"In view of your unchivalrous refusal, Lieutenant, I find myself unfortunately compelled to place your colonel in possession of the facts."

Herr von Brietzen really seemed to be hit in a vulnerable spot. He asked hesitatingly: "What good do you think that will do? Force me to listen to a moral lecture? Well, all right. But, in any case,"—Herr von Brietzen recovered his self-possession—"so far as chivalry is concerned, the colonel will probably have very different views from those of a gentleman who refuses to accept a challenge."

Then Diederich arose in his wrath. Herr von Brietzen would kindly hold his tongue, otherwise he might find that he would have to deal with the Neo-Teutons! He, Diederich, had proved by his scars that he had joyfully shed his blood for the honour of the colours! He could only wish that Lieutenant von Brietzen should find himself some time in a position where he would have to challenge a Graf von Tauern-Bärenheim! "I challenged him flatly!" And in the same breath he declared that he was far from recognising the right of an impertinent Junker to shoot down a decent burgher and the father of a family. "You'd no doubt like to seduce the sister and shoot the brother," he shouted, beside himself. In a similar state of rage Herr von Brietzen talked of having his servant smash the tradesman's face, and as the servant stood there ready, Diederich cleared out, but not without a parting shot. "If you think, because of your impertinence, we will pass the Army Bill! We'll show you what revolution is!"

Outside in the deserted avenue he continued to rage, shook his fist at the invisible enemy and uttered threats. "You will regret that some day, when we call a halt!" Suddenly he noticed that the gardens were still full of perfume and twittering beneath the spring skies, and it became clear to him that Nature itself, whether she smiled or snarled, was powerless before Authority, the authority above us, which is quite impregnable. It was easy to threaten revolution, but what about the Emperor William Monument? Wulckow and Gausenfeld? Whoever trampled others under foot must be prepared to be walked on, that was the iron law of might. After his attack of resistance, Diederich again felt the secret thrill of the man who is trampled upon. … A cab came along from behind, Herr von Brietzen and his trunk. Before he knew what he was doing Diederich faced about, ready to salute. But Herr von Brietzen looked the other way. In spite of everything Diederich rejoiced in the fresh, chivalrous young officer. "Nobody can duplicate that for us," he said with conviction.

Now, however, that he had entered Meisestrasse he felt embarrassed. From a distance he could see Emma looking out for him. All of a sudden he realised all that she must have gone through during the last hour, which had decided her fate. Poor Emma! Now it was decided. No doubt, Power was elevating, but when it hit one's own sister—"I did not know it would touch me so closely." He nodded up as encouragingly as possible. She had become much thinner, how was it nobody noticed it? She had big sleepless eyes beneath her pale shimmering hair; her lips twitched as he nodded to her. He noticed that also with the sharp eyes of fear. He almost crept up the stairs. On the first floor she came out of the room and went on in front of him to the floor above. When she was up she turned round—and when she saw his face she went inside without speaking, went to the window, and remained standing, with her face turned away. He pulled himself together and said aloud: "Oh! Nothing is lost yet." She shrank at this and closed her eyes. As he groaned audibly, she toned, came slowly towards him, laid her head on his shoulder, and they wept together.

Afterwards he had an encounter with Guste who wanted to nag. Diederich told her pointblank that she was only using Emma's misfortune in order to have her revenge for the not altogether auspicious circumstances under which she herself had got married. "Emma, at least, is not throwing herself at any one's head." Guste screamed: "Did I throw myself at yours?" He cut her short. "In any case, she is my sister!" … And as she was now living under his protection, he began to find her interesting, and to show her unusual respect. After meals, he used to kiss her hand, in spite of Guste's grins. He compared the two women. How much more common Guste was! Magda, even, whom he had favoured because she was successful, no longer compared in his memory with the abandoned Emma. Through her misfortune Emma had become more refined and, so to speak, more elusive. When her hand lay there, so white and so absent-mindedly, and Emma was sunk silently in her own thoughts, as if in an unknown abyss, Diederich felt touched by the premonition of a deeper world. The attribute of a fallen woman, unnatural and despicable in others, lent Emma, Diederich's sister, a strange shimmering air of questionable charm. Emma was now both more touching and more brilliant.

While Diederich was lost in such reflections election day approached. Filled with a sense of the vanity of all things, Diederich took no notice of what was going on, not even of the increasingly hostile air of the machinist. On the day of the polls, while Diederich was still in bed, Napoleon Fischer came to see him. Without the least apology he began: "At the eleventh hour, Dr. Hessling, I have something serious to tell you." This time it was he who scented betrayal and recalled their agreement. "You are playing a double-faced game. You made certain promises to us, and being men of our word, we did not work against you, but only against the Liberals."

"So did we," declared Diederich.

"You know that's not true. You have been hobnobbing with Heuteufel. He has already agreed to your monument. If you do not go over to his side with full colours to-day, you will certainly do so on the second ballot, and shamefully betray the people."

With folded arms Napoleon Fischer took another long stride towards the bed. "All I want to tell you is that we are not blind."

"That's right." Napoleon winked slily. "If I don't, there will be a strike in several factories in Netzig." He turned on his heel. At the door he held Diederich, who had sunk down under the bedclothes in terror, once more in his glance. "Therefore, long live international Social Democracy!" he shouted as he went out.

From beneath the bedclothes Diederich cried: "Hurrah for His Majesty the Emperor!" After that there was nothing to be done but to face the situation. It looked pretty threatening. Oppressed with misgivings he hastened out into the street, to the Veterans' Association, to Klappsch's and everywhere he was forced to admit that, during the days of his discouragement, the clever tactics of old Buck had achieved wide success. The Emperor's Party had been diluted by accretions from the Liberal ranks, and the difference between Kunze and Heuteufel was inconsiderable compared with the abyss between him and Napoleon Fischer. Pastor Zillich, who exchanged shy greetings with his brother-in-law, Heuteufel, asserted that the Emperor's Party ought to be satisfied with its success, for it had certainly strengthened the national conscience of the Liberal candidate, even if he eventually won. As Professor Kühnchen expressed the same opinion, the suspicion became insistent that they were not satisfied with the promises they had extracted from Diederich and Wulckow, and that they had allowed old Buck to win them over by promises of greater personal advantage. The corruption of the democratic gang was enough for anything! So far as Kunze was concerned, he wanted to be elected in any case; if necessary, with the help of the Liberals. His ambition had corrupted him, it had brought him to the point of promising to stand for the Infant Asylum. Diederich became indignant; Heuteufel was a hundred times worse than any proletarian, and he alluded to the terrible consequences which such an unpatriotic attitude would have. Unfortunately he could not be more specific—and with the picture of the strike before him, the ruins of the Emperor William Monument, of Gausenfeld and all his dreams, in his heart, he rushed about in the rain from one polling-station to another, bringing up the loyal voters, with the certainty that their loyalty was wasted and would help the worst enemies of the Emperor. At Klappsch's in the evening, splashed with mud to the neck, his nerves on edge after the noise of the long day, the vast amount of beer and the nearness of the final result, he heard the figures. Against Heuteufel's eight thousand votes, Napoleon Fischer had six thousand odd, but Kunze had three thousand six hundred and seventy-two. The second ballot was between Heuteufel and Fischer. "Hurrah!" shouted Diederich, for nothing was lost and they had gained time.

He returned to his office from which old Sötbier had vanished and where Diederich was now his own accountant, answerable only to his God, and where his weightiest decisions were made. He went to the telephone and asked for Gausenfeld. Just then the door opened and the postman handed in his packages. On the top Diederich noticed Gausenfeld. He hung up the receiver again and, nodding like Destiny, he gazed at the letter. The deed was done! The old chap had not waited to be told; lie understood that he no longer dared to give money to Buck and his allies, and that if necessary, he could personally be called to account. Diederich calmly tore open the envelope—but after two lines he was reading feverishly. What a surprise! Klüsing was ready to sell! He was growing old and regarded Diederich as his natural successor!

What did it all mean? Diederich sat down in a corner to think. First of all, it meant that Wulckow had intervened. The old fellow was in mortal fear because of the government contracts; and the strike, which Napoleon threatened, had done the rest. Where was the time when he thought he could get out of the dilemma by offering Diederich a share of the paper for the "Netzig Journal"? Now he offered him the whole of Gausenfeld! "I am a Power," Diederich declared, and it came upon him that Klüsing's idea, that he would buy the factory and pay its full value, was simply ridiculous, in view of the circumstances; and he actually laughed out loud. … Then he became aware that at the end of the letter, below the signature, there was something else, a postscript written smaller than the rest and so unnoticeable that Diederich had missed it before. He deciphered it—and his jaw dropped. Suddenly he leaped up. "So that's it!" he shouted, capering triumphantly about his empty office. "Now we have it!" Then he said, with great seriousness: "It is dreadful! An abyss!" He read again, word for word, the fateful postscript, placed the letter in the safe and shut the door sharply. In there the poison was simmering for Buck and his followers—supplied by their friend. Not only did Klüsing no longer furnish them with funds; he betrayed them also. But there was no doubt they deserved it; such depravity had probably disgusted even Klüsing. To spare them would be to share their guilt. Diederich examined his conscience. "Mercy would really be a crime. Let every man look to himself. This was a case where he must proceed without fear or favour, tear the mask from the conspiracy and clean it out ruthlessly! I undertake the task in the interest of the public welfare, my duty as a loyal patriot leaves me no choice. These are strenuous times."

The next evening there was a big, open public meeting, called by the Liberal election committee in the large Walhalla Theatre. With the active assistance of Gottlieb Hornung, Diederich had taken steps to ensure that the meeting was not confined to HeuteufeFs supporters. He himself did not think it necessary to hear the speech of the candidate, and he did not go until the meeting was open for discussion. In an ante-room he ran into Kunze, who was in a bad humour. "A discharged assassin!" he shouted. "Look at me, sir, and tell me if I look like the sort of man who would allow himself to be called that!" As he was too excited to explain himself further, Kühnchen came to his assistance. "Heuteufel should have said that to me!" he yelled. "I'd have shown him the sort of man Kühnchen is!" Diederich strongly recommended the major to sue his opponent. But Kunze needed no further encouragement; he swore he would simply mash Heuteufel's face for him. Diederich thought this a good idea, and he agreed most emphatically when Kunze declared that, in the circumstances, he preferred to side with the worst revolutionaries rather than with the Liberals. Kühnchen and Pastor Zillich, who had joined them, opposed this view. The enemies of their country—and the Emperor's Party! "Corrupt cowards!" said Diederich's look—while the major continued to swear vengeance. These swine would weep tears of blood! "And they'll do it to-night," said Diederich with such decision that they were all astonished. He paused for a moment and glared at each of them. "What would you say, Pastor, if I were to prove certain machinations against your Liberal friends? …" Pastor Zillich turned pale. Diederich turned to Kuhnchen: "Dishonest manipulation of public funds." Kuhnchen jumped. "They will wish themselves dead," he shouted ferociously. Kunze bellowed: "Give me your hand!" and he seized Diederich in his arms. "The shell may be rough, but the kernel is sound. Prove the knavery of those swine and Major Kunze is your friend, as though we had been under fire together at Mars-la-Tour!"

The major had tears in his eyes, and so had Diederich, and the exaltation of their souls was equalled only by that of the meeting. On entering one could see arms being raised everywhere, through the blue haze, and here and there shouts arose: "Shame!" "Hear, hear!" or "Disgraceful!" The electoral contest was at its height. Diederich plunged in with extraordinary bitterness, for in front of the table, at which old Buck was presiding in person, who was standing at the edge of the platform and speaking? Sötbier, Diederich's dismissed bookkeeper! Out of revenge Sötbier was making a provocative speech, in which he uttered the most striking judgments upon the alleged friendliness of certain gentlemen for the workers. It was simply a demagogic stunt, by which, for the sake of certain personal advantages, they wished to divide the middle-classes and drive the voters onto the side of revolution. Formerly the gentleman in question had said: Whoever is born a slave must remain a slave. "Shame!" yelled the organised workers. Diederich pushed his way through until he was beside the platform. "A vulgar libel!" he shouted into Sötbier's face. "You ought to be ashamed of yourself! Since your dismissal you have joined the malcontents." The Veterans' Association, under Kunze's command, bawled like one man: "Disgraceful!" and "Hear, hear!"—while the organised workers hissed and Sötbier shook a trembling fist at Diederich, who threatened to have him locked up. Then old Buck stood up and rang his bell.

When silence had been restored he said in a gentle voice, which rose and thrilled the hearers: "Fellow-citizens! Do not give the personal ambition of individuals anything to feed on by taking it seriously! What is the individual? What are classes even? The people's interests are at stake, and the people includes every one except those who want to be masters. We must stand together. We citizens must not again make the mistake, which was made in my youth, of entrusting our welfare to bayonets, as soon as the workers demand their rights. Because we would never grant the workers their rights, we have given the masters power to deprive us also of our rights."

"Quite right!"

"We, the people, have all perhaps our last opportunity, in the face of this demand upon us to increase the army, to assert our freedom against our masters, who are arming us still more, merely that we may be slaves. Whoever is born a slave must remain a slave. That is not said only to you workers, it is said to us all by the masters whose power we must pay for ever more dearly." "Quite right! Bravo! Not a man, not a cent!" Amidst enthusiastic approval old Buck sat down. Diederich, who was dripping with perspiration as he approached the final struggle, glanced over the audience and saw Gottlieb Hornung, in charge of the contractors for the Emperor William Monument. Pastor Zillich was busy among the Christian young men, and the Veterans' Association had rallied round Kunze. Then he launched forth. "Our hereditary foe is raising his head once more," he shouted defiantly. "A traitor to the Fatherland, who refuses our magnificent young Emperor what he—" "Ha, ha!" cried the traitors to the Fatherland, but amidst the applause of the loyalists Diederich continued to shout, although he was over-straining his throat: "A French general is asking for revanche!" From the platform some one asked: "How much is he getting for that from Berlin?" There was laughter, while Diederich clawed the air as if he wanted to climb up. "The flash of arms! Blood and iron! Manly ideals. A strong Empire!" His forcible phrases jostled, rattling against each other, amidst the din made by the right-thinking patriots. "A powerful regiment, a bulwark against the turbid stream of democracy."

"Wulckow is your bulwark!" cried the voice from the platform again. Diederich turned around and recognised Heuteufel. "Do you mean His Majesty's Government—?" "Another bulwark!" said Heuteufel. Diederich pointed his finger at him. "You have insulted the Emperor!" he shouted sharply. Behind him, however, some one yelled: "Informer!" It was Napoleon Fischer and his comrades repeated it with hoarse shouts. They had jumped up and surrounded Diederich in a fashion which boded him no good. "He is trying again to provoke some one! He wants to get some one else in jail! Throw him out!" They seized him. Horny hands were pressing his neck as he turned his face, distorted with terror, towards the chairman and begged chokingly for help. Old Buck granted his request; he rang his bell incessantly, and even sent some young men down to rescue Diederich from his enemies. No sooner was he free than Diederich pointed his finger at old Buck. "The corruptness of democracy," he shouted, dancing with passion. "I will prove it to him!" "Bravo!" "Let him speak"—and the camp of the loyalists was set in motion, poured over the tables and stood face to face with the revolutionaries. A free fight seemed imminent. The police officer on the platform caught hold of his helmet to protect himself; it was a critical moment. Then a command was heard: "Silence! Let him speak!" It was almost quiet, for people had become aware of an anger greater than any other present. Old Buck, looming above his table on the platform, was no longer a worthy old gentleman. Power seemed to give slenderness to his figure, he was pale with hatred, and he darted a glance at Diederich which caused the onlookers to hold their breath.

"Let him speak," the old man repeated. "Even traitors are allowed to speak before they are condemned. That is what traitors to the nation look like. They have changed only in externals since the time when my generation fought and died, and went to prison and the scaffold."

"Ha! ha!" cried Gottlieb Hornung, filled with superior mirth. Unfortunately for him, he was sitting within arm's reach of a powerful workman, who raised his arm so threateningly that, before the blow struck him, Hornung collapsed together with his chair.

"At that time also," shouted the old man, "there were such people who preferred profit to honour, and who found no domination humiliating, provided their pockets were the better of it. Servile materialism, the fruit and weapon of every tyranny, that was what defeated us, and you also, my fellow-citizens—"

"Fellow-citizens, you also are in danger to-day of being betrayed by that materialism and of becoming its prey. Let this man speak."

"No!"

"He shall speak, afterwards you can ask him how much in hard cash those opinions are worth, which he has the impertinence to call patriotic. Ask him who bought his house, for what purpose, and to whose advantage."

"Wulckow!" The word was shouted from the platform, but the audience took it up. Diederich was pushed against his will by irresistible hands up to the steps of the platform. He looked around in search of counsel. Old Buck was sitting motionless, his clenched fist resting on his knee, and his eyes never left Diederich. Heuteufel, Cohn, all the members of the committee, were waiting for his collapse, with an expression of cold eagerness on their faces. And the audience shouted, "Wulckow! Wulckow!" He stammered something about calumny, his heart was beating furiously, and for a moment he shut his eyes, in the hope that he was going to faint and would thus get out of the dilemma. But he did not faint, and, as there was no alternative, a terrible courage possessed him. He seized his pocketbook, to make sure of his weapon, and with something like the joy of battle he surveyed his enemy, that sly old man, who had at last torn off the mask of the paternal friend and confessed his hatred. Diederich glared at him and shook both his fists in front of him. Then he faced the audience aggressively.

"Do you want to earn some money?" he bawled, like a street-hawker above the din—and all was silent as if at a magic command. "Every one can earn some money from me," he yelled with undiminished violence. "To every one who can prove how much I made on the sale of my house I will pay the same again!"

Nobody seemed prepared for this. The contractors were the first to cry "Bravo!" Then the Christians and the warriors followed suit, but half-heartedly, for the shout of "Wulckow!" had begun again, to the tapping of beer glasses which were being knocked on the tables. Diederich saw that this was a pre-arranged trick, and was directed not only against himself but much higher authorities. He looked around uneasily, and the police officer was again clasping his helmet. Diederich made a sign to him with his hand, as much as to say he would attend to this, and bellowed:

"Not Wulckow, but very different people! The Liberal Infant Asylum! They wanted me to give up my house for that; that was proposed to me, I am ready to swear it. As a loyal patriot I emphatically repudiated the suggestion that I should cheat the town and share the spoil with an unprincipled municipal council."

"You lie!" cried old Buck, as he stood up flaming. But Diederich flamed even more fiercely, in the consciousness of being right and of his moral mission. He plunged his hand into his pocketbook, and in front of the hydra-headed monster below whose venom bespattered him: "Liar! Swindler!" he fearlessly waved his document. "Here's the proof!" he shouted, waving the paper until they decided to listen to him.

"It did not work with me, but in Gausenfeld, it did, my fellow-citizens. In Gausenfeld &hellip How can that be? I'll tell you. Two gentlemen from the Liberal Party went to the owner and tried to secure in advance purchase rights to a certain piece of property, in case the Infant Asylum should be built there."

"Name! Name!"

Diederich slapped his chest, prepared to go to any length. Klüsing had told him everything except the names. With flashing eyes he stared at the members of the committee. One seemed to grow pale. "Nothing venture, nothing win," thought Diederich, and he shouted: "one was Cohn the owner of the drapery stores!"

He stepped off the platform with the air of one whose duty has been fulfilled. Down below Kunze received him and kissed him on both cheeks, oblivious of everything, whereat the loyalists applauded. The others shouted: "Proof!" or "Nonsense!" But "Let Cohn speak!" that was the general cry. It was impossible for Cohn to evade this invitation. Old Buck looked at him; his cheeks were quivering and he was rigid, and then he called upon him to speak. Cohn, pushed forward vigorously by Heuteufel, came out very indecisively from behind the long table of the committee, dragged his feet, and created a most unfavourable impression even before he started. He smiled apologetically. "Gentlemen, you will hardly believe what the previous speaker has said." He spoke so softly that hardly anybody understood. Yet Cohn fancied, even then, that he had gone too far. "I will not exactly contradict the previous speaker, but it was not the way he has described."

"The second person who was in Gausenfeld is Judge Kühlemann! That's true. Kühlemann himself. The same Kühlemann from whose bequest the Infant Asylum is to be built. Will any one pretend that Kühlemann was stealing from his own bequest? The conclusion is obvious!" Heuteufel shrugged his shoulders and there was approving laughter. But not for long; passions were soon kindled again. "Proof! Kühlemann himself should explain! Thieves!" Heuteufel explained that Kühlemann was dangerously ill. They were sending a messenger and had already telephoned. "Oh, damn!" whispered Kunze to his friend Diederich. "If it was Kühlemann then it is all over except the shouting." "Not by a long chalk," Diederich answered confidently. Pastor Zillich, for his party had now no other hope than the hand of God. "We don't want that," said Diederich with great assurance, as he pounced upon a sceptic and talked him over. He egged on the loyalists to take a more decided stand, he even shook hands with Social Democrats in order to strengthen their hatred of the corrupt bourgeoisie, and everywhere he displayed Klüsing's letter. He beat on the paper so vigorously with the back of his hand that nobody could read it, and shouted: "Is Kühlemann there? It is Buck who is mentioned. If Kühlemann has a gasp left he will have to admit that it wasn't he. It was Buck!"

As he spoke he kept his eye on the platform, where a remarkable silence had ensued. The gentlemen of the committee were rushing about, but they talked in whispers. Old Buck was nowhere to be seen. "What is wrong?" The hall had also grown quieter, nobody knew why. Suddenly word came: "They say Kühlemann is dead!" Diederich felt it rather than heard it. He suddenly stopped talking and exerting himself. His face was twitching from excitement. He did not reply when he was asked a question, around him he could hear a vague buzzing of voices, and he no longer knew exactly where he was. Then Gottlieb Hornung came up and said: "God's truth, he's dead. I was up there; they telephoned. At that very moment he died."

"At the right moment," said Diederich, looking around him in astonishment, as if awaking from a dream. "The hand of God has again proved itself," Pastor Zillich affirmed, and Diederich became aware that this was a hand not to be despised. What, if it had given another turn to the wheel of fate? … The parties in the hall were dispersing. The intervention of death in politics had turned the parties into human beings. They spoke in lowered tones and withdrew. When Diederich reached the street he also heard that old Buck had had a stroke.

The final voting took place at three o'clock in the afternoon. An alarm was sounded in Kaiser Wilhelmstrasse, and every one rushed to the windows and shop doors to see where the fire was. It was the Veterans' Association marching past in uniform. Their flag pointed the way of honour. Kühnchen, who was in command, had his helmet on the back of his neck and was swinging his sword in a fearsome manner. Diederich with the rank and file tramped along, and rejoiced at the thought that now everything further would be done in line, mechanically and in obedience to superior orders. The march of Power had trampled old Buck into pulp! … At the other end of the street they received the new colours, which were presented with thunderous music and cheers of pride. The procession, lengthened by unlimited reinforcements of patriots, reached Klappsch's premises. Here they formed into sections and Kühnchen gave the command: "To the urns." The election committee, with Pastor Zillich at the head, was waiting in the hall, festively attired. Kühnchen issued his commands in martial tones. "On, comrades, to the poll! We vote for Fischer!" Whereupon the music crashed and they marched from the left wing into the polling-booth. The entire procession followed the Veterans' Association. Klappsch was not prepared for so much enthusiasm, and had run out of beer. Finally, when the national cause seemed to have thrown up all that it was capable of producing, Mayor Scheffelweis arrived amidst cheers. He quite frankly allowed a red ticket to be thrust into his hand, and when he returned from casting his vote it was plain he was agreeably moved. "At last!" he said, pressing Diederich's hand: "We have this day conquered the dragon." Diederich's reply was merciless. "You, Mr. Mayor? Why, you are still halfway down its throat. Mind it doesn't take you with it when it dies! " As Dr. Scheffelweis paled, another cheer arose. Wulckow!…

Five thousand odd votes for Fischer! Heuteufel, with barely three thousand, was swept aside by the patriotic tide, and the Social Democrat went to the Reichstag. The "Netzig Journal" insisted upon a victory for the "Emperor's Party," for thanks to the latter, a fortress of Liberalism had fallen. With this, however, Rothgroschen aroused neither great satisfaction nor definite contradiction. Every one found the accomplished fact natural but uninteresting. After the uproar of election time it was now a question of making some more money. The Emperor William Monument, only yesterday the centre of a civil war, no longer aroused the slightest excitement. Old Kühlemann had left the town six hundred thousand marks, for public purposes; very decent. An asylum or a monument, that was the same as sponges and tooth-brushes to Gottlieb Hornung. At the decisive meeting of the town councillors it turned out that the Social Democrats were in favour of the monument; well and good. Somebody proposed that a committee be formed at once, and that the honorary chairmanship be offered to Governor von Wulckow. Here Heuteufel, who was probably annoyed, after all, by his defeat, got up and expressed a doubt as to whether the Governor, who was mixed up in a certain property deal, would himself think it fitting that he should vote for the site on which the monument was to stand. There were grins and winks, and Diederich had a cold shiver down his spine as he waited to see if the scandal would now come out. He waited in silence, secretly thrilled at the thought of what would happen to Authority, if somebody uncovered the scandal. He could not have said what he really wished. As nothing happened, he stood up, very straight, and protested, without exaggerated effort, against the insinuation which he had once already publicly refuted. The other side, on the contrary, had not invalidated in the least the charges of irregularity which had been brought against them. "Don't you worry," replied Heuteufel, "You will soon be satisfied. A complaint has already been lodged."

This, at least, caused a sensation, but the impression was weakened when Heuteufel admitted that his friend Buck had taken action, not against Councillor Hessling, but merely against the socialist paper. "Hessling knows too much," people said—and after Wulckow, who was made honorary chairman, Diederich was appointed chairman of the Monument Committee. In the Council these decisions received the warmest support from Mayor Scheff elweis ; they were passed in the noticeable absence of old Buck. If he himself did not think more of his own cause! Heuteufel said: "Is he to look on in person at dirty work which he cannot prevent?" This merely harmed Heuteufel himself. As old Buck in recent times had suffered two defeats, it was expected that his action against the newspaper would be the third. The statements which had to be made in court were adapted by every one in advance to fit the given circumstances. Of course, Hessling had gone too far, the more reasonable people said. Old Buck, who was long known to them all, was not a swindler and a cheat. He may have been guilty of imprudence, especially now, when he was paying his brother's debts, and was himself up to his neck in debt. Did he really go with Cohn to Klüsing about the site? It was a good stroke of business—only it should not have been found out. And why should Kühlernann die exactly at the moment when he ought to have declared his friend's innocence? Such bad luck was not without cause. Herr Tietz, the business manager of the "Netzig Journal," who had the run of Gausenfeld, said pointblank that it was a crime against oneself to take up the defence of people who had shot their bolt. Tietz also drew attention to the fact that old Klüsing, who could have ended the whole thing with a word, took good care to say nothing. He was ill, and, only on his account, the hearing was postponed indefinitely.

That, however, did not prevent him from selling his factory. This was the latest, the "significant changes in a large enterprise of the utmost importance to the industrial life of Netzig," to which the "Netzig Journal" made occult reference. Klüsing had joined a Berlin syndicate. When asked why he did not take any action, Diederich produced the letter in which Klüsing offered him the sale before any one else. "And on absolutely unique terms," he added. "Unfortunately, I am deeply engaged with my brother-in-law in Eschweiler, I am not even sure that I shall not have to leave Netzig." But as an expert he answered an inquiry of Rothgroschen's, who made the reply public, that the prospectus was, if anything, an understatement of the facts. Gausenfeld, as a matter of fact, was a gold mine. The purchase of shares, which were put on the open market, could be strongly recommended. And, it so happened, there was a great demand for the shares in Netzig. How impartial and uninfluenced by his personal interests Diederich's opinion was, came out under special circumstances, to wit, when old Buck was looking for money. The latter had gone so far, his family and his sense of public duty had brought him to such a point, that even his friends refused to encourage him any further. Then Diederich intervened. He gave the old man a second mortgage on his house in the Fleischhauergrube. "He must have been desperately in need of the money," Diederich used to remark whenever he told the story. "When he accepts it from me, his strongest political opponent! Who would have believed it once upon a time?" Diederich gratefully contemplated fate. … He added that the house would be an expensive luxury if it came into his hands. Of course, he would soon have to leave his own, and this also showed that he was not counting on Gausenfeld. "But," declared Diederich, "the old man is not on a bed of roses. Who knows how his lawsuit will end. And just because I have to fight him politically, I want to show—you understand." People understood and congratulated Diederich on his more than creditable action. Diederich modestly demurred. "He accused me of lacking idealism, and I had to prove that he was wrong." A note of virile emotion trembled in his voice.