Diederich was astonished: "Why not?"

"It is against my principles to back a bill," Mahlmann explained.

"So you see! And if I were to go security for you now, you wouldn't pay up either."

Diederich was more surprised than ever.

"No, my young friend," Mahlmann concluded, "if I ever want to commit suicide I can do so without your help."

Diederich pulled himself together and said in a challenging fashion: "I see you have no conception of a gentleman's honour."

"No," Mahlmann repeated, laughing heartily.

With the utmost emphasis Diederich declared: "You appear to be a general kind of swindler. I understand that there is a good deal of swindling in the patent business."

Mahlmann stopped laughing. The expression of his eyes in his little head had become threatening, and he stood up. "Now, get out of here," he said quietly. "Between ourselves, I suppose, it doesn't matter, but my employes are in the next room, and they must not hear such talk." He seized Diederich by the shoulders, turned him around, and shoved him along. Every time he tried to break loose Diederich received a powerful cuff. "I demand satisfaction," he shrieked, "I challenge you to a duel!"

"I am at your service. Have you not noticed it? Then I'll get somebody else for you." He opened the door. "Frederick!" Then Diederich was handed over to one of the packers, who led him down the stairs. Mahlmann shouted after him: "No harm done, my young friend. Whenever you have anything else on your mind, be sure to call again."

Diederich put his clothes in order and left the building in proper style. So much the worse for Mahlmann if he made such an exhibition of himself. Diederich had nothing to reproach himself with, and would have been brilliantly vindicated by a court of honour. The fact remained that it was most objectionable that one person could allow himself such liberties. Every corps had been insulted in the person of Diederich. At the same time it could not be denied that Mahlmann had considerably increased Diederich's selfesteem. "A low dog," Diederich reflected. "But people are like that. …"

At home he found a registered letter.

"Now we can be off," said Hornung.

"How do you mean, we? I need my money for myself."

"You must be joking. I can't stay here alone."

"Then go and find some one else to keep you company!" Diederich burst into such a laugh that Hornung thought he was crazy. Thereupon he took his departure.

On the way he noticed for the first time that his mother had addressed the letter. That was unusual. … Since her last card, she said, his father had been much worse. Why had Diederich not come?

"We must be prepared for the worst. If you want to see your dearly-beloved father again, do not delay any longer, my son."

These expressions made Diederich feel uncomfortable. He assured himself that his mother was not trustworthy. "I never believe women anyhow, and mother is not quite right in her mind."

Nevertheless, Herr Hessling was breathing his last when Diederich arrived.

Overcome by the sight, Diederich immediately burst into a most undignified howl as he crossed the threshold. He stumbled to the bedside, and his face at that moment was as wet as if he had been washing it. He flapped his arms a number of times, like a bird beating his wings, and let them fall helplessly to his side. Suddenly he noticed his father's right hand on the coverlet, and knelt down and kissed it. Frau Hessling, silent and shrinking, even at the last breath of her master, did the same to his left hand. Diederich remembered how this black, misshapen finger-nail had hit his cheek, when his father boxed his ears, and he wept aloud. And the thrashings when he had stolen the buttons from the rags! This hand had been terrible, but Diederich's heart ached now that he was about to lose it. He felt that the same thought was in his mother's mind and she guessed what was passing in his. They fell into one another's arms across the bed.

When the visits of condolence came, Diederich was himself again. He stood before the whole of Netzig as the representative of the Neo-Teutons, firm and unbending in his knowledge of gentlemanly behaviour. He almost forgot he was in mourning so great was the attention he aroused. He went right out to the hall-door to receive old Herr Buck. The bulky person of Netzig's great man was majestic in his fine frock-coat. With great dignity he carried his upturned silkhat in front of him in one hand, while the other, from which he had taken his black glove to shake hands with Diederich, felt extraordinarily soft. His blue eyes gazed warmly at Diederich and he said:

"Your father was a good citizen. Strive to become one, too, young man. Always respect the rights of your fellow-citizens. Your own human dignity demands that of you. I trust that we shall work here together in our town for the common welfare. You will continue your studies, no doubt?"

Diederich could scarcely answer yes, he was so disturbed by a sense of reverence. Old Buck asked in a lighter tone: "Did my youngest son look you up in Berlin? No? Oh, he must do that. He is also studying there now. I expect he'll soon have to do his year's military service. Have you got that behind you?"

"No"—and Diederich turned very red. He stammered his excuses. It had been quite impossible for him hitherto to interrupt his studies. But old Buck shrugged his shoulders as if the subject were hardly worth discussing.

By his father's will Diederich was appointed, with the old book-keeper Sötbier, as the guardian of his two sisters. Sötbier informed him that there was a capital of seventy thousand marks which was to serve as a dowry for the two girls. Even the interest could not be touched. In late years the average net profit of the factory had been nine thousand marks. "No more?" asked Diederich. Sötbier looked at him, horrified at first and then reproachful. If the young gentleman only knew how his late lamented father and Sötbier had worked up the business I Of course there was still room for improvement.…

"Oh, all right," said Diederich. He saw that many changes would have to be made here. Was he expected to live on onequarter of nine thousand marks? This supposition on the part of the deceased made him indignant. When his mother stated that the dear departed had expressed the hope on his death-bed that he would live on in his son Diederich, that Diederich would never marry, and always care for the family, then Diederich burst out. "Father was not a sickly sentimentalist like you," he shouted, "and he wasn't a liar either." Frau Hessling thought she could hear the voice of her husband again and bowed to the inevitable. Diederich seized the opportunity to raise his monthly cheque by fifty marks.

"First of all," he said roughly, "I must do my year's military service. That's an expensive business. Afterwards you can come to me with your petty money questions."

He insisted on reporting himself in Berlin. The death of his father had filled him with wild notions of freedom. But at night he had dreams in which the old man came out of his office with his grey face as when he lay in his coffin—and Diederich awoke in a sweat of terror.

He departed with his mother's blessing. He had no further use for Gottlieb Hornung and their common property Rosa, so he moved. He exhibited his changed circumstances in due form to the Neo-Teutons. The happy days of student life were over. The farewell party! They drank toasts of mourning which were intended for the old gentleman, but which also applied to Diederich and the first flowering of his freedom. Out of sheer devotion he finished up under the table, as on the night when he had first drunk with them as a guest. He had now joined the ranks of the old boys.

A couple of days later, still suffering from a bad head, he was standing before the military doctor with a crowd of other young men, all stark naked like himself. The medical officer looked disgustedly at all this manly flesh exposed to view, but when he saw Diederich's paunch his expression was one of contempt. At once they all grinned, and Diederich could not help looking down at his stomach, which was blushing. … The surgeon-major had become quite serious again. One of them, who did not hear as sharply as was prescribed in the regulations, had a bad time, as they knew the tricks of the shirkers. Another, who had the misfortune to be called Levysohn, was told: "If you ever come to bother me here again, you might at least take a bath first!" To Diederich he said: "We'll soon massage the fat off you. After four weeks' training I guarantee you'll look like a civilised man."

With that he was accepted. Those who had been rejected hastened into their clothes as if the barracks was on fire. The men who were considered fit for service looked at one another suspiciously out of the corners of their eyes and went off sheepishly, as if they expected to feel a heavy hand come down on their shoulders. One of them, an actor, who looked as if everything was a matter of indifference, went back again to the doctor and said in a loud voice, carefully enunciating each word: "I beg to add that I am also homosexual."

The medical officer started back and went very red. In an indifferent tone he said: "We certainly don't want such swine here."

To his future comrades Diederich expressed his indignation at this shameless conduct. Then he spoke again to the sergeant who had previously measured his height against the wall, and assured him that he wss delighted. Nevertheless he wrote home to Netzig to the general practitioner, Dr. Heuteufel, who used to paint his throat as a boy, asking if he could not certify that he was suffering from scrofula and rickets. Diederich could not be expected to destroy himself with drudgery. But the reply was that he should not complain, that the training would do him no end of good. So Diederich gave up his room again and drove off to the barracks with his portmanteau. Since he had to put in fourteen days there, he might as well save that much rent.

They at once began with horizontal-bar exercises, jumping, and other breathless exertions. They were herded in companies into corridors, which were called "departments." Lieutenant von Kullerow displayed a supercilious indifference, screwing up his eyes whenever he looked at the volunteers. Suddenly he shouted, "Instructor!" and gave his orders to the sergeant and turned on his heels contemptuously. When they exercised in the barrack square, forming fours, opening out, and changing places, the sole object was to keep these "dogs" on the jump. Diederich fully realised that everything here, their treatment, the language used, the whole military system, had only one end in view, to degrade the sense of self-respect to the lowest level. And that impressed him. Miserable as he felt, indeed precisely on that account, it inspired him with deep respect and a sort of suicidal enthusiasm. The principle and the ideal were obviously the same as with the Neo-Teutons, only the system was carried out more cruelly. There were no more comfortable intervals when one could remember one's manhood. Slowly and inevitably one sank to the dimensions of an insect, of a part in the machine, of so much raw material, which was moulded by an unlimited will. It would have been ruin and folly to raise oneself up, even in one's secret heart. The most that one could do, against one's own convictions, was to shirk occasionally. When they were running Diederich fell and hurt his foot. It was not quite bad enough to make him limp, but he did limp, and when the company went out route marching, he was allowed to remain behind. In order to do this he had first gone to the captain in person. "Please, captain—" What a catastrophe! In his innocence he had boldly addressed a power from which one was expected to receive orders silently and metaphorically on one's knees! A power whom one could approach only through the intermediary of a third person. The captain thundered so that the noncommissioned ranks started, with expressions of horror at having witnessed a crime. The result was that Diederich limped still more and had to be relieved of duty for another day.

Sergeant Vanselow, who was responsible for the misdemeanour of his recruits, only said to Diederich: "And you profess to be an educated man!" He was accustomed to seeing all misfortunes coming from the volunteers. Vanselow slept in their dormitory behind a screen. When lights were out they would tell dirty stories until the outraged sergeant yelled at them: "And you fellows set up to be men of education!" In spite of his long experience he always expected more intelligence and better conduct from the one-year volunteers than from the other recruits, and every time he was disappointed. Diederich he regarded as by no means the worst. Vanselow's opinion was not influenced solely by the number of drinks they bought him. He set even more store by the military spirit of ready submission, and that Diederich had. When they received instruction he could be held up as a model for the others. Diederich showed himself entirely filled with the military ideals of bravery and honour. When it came to differences of rank and stripes, he seemed to have an innate sense of these things. Vanselow would say: "Now I am the general commanding," and immediately Diederich would act as if he believed it. When he said: "Now I am a member of the Royal Family," then Diederich's attitude was such as to make the sergeant smile with the illusion of grandeur.

In private conversation in the canteen Diederich confided in his superiors that military life filled him with enthusiasm. "To be swallowed up in a great init," he would say. He would ask for nothing better In the world than to stay in the army. He was sincere, but that did not prevent him, when they were exercising in the parade ground that afternoon, from having no other wish than to he down in his grave and die. The uniform which was cut to fit closely, for reasons of smartness, became a real instrument of torture after eating. It was no consolation that the captain appeared unspeakably warlike and daring as he gave his commands from his horse, when one could feel the undigested soup slopping about in one's stomach as one ran around breathlessly. The enthusiasm which Diederich was fully prepared to feel was tempered by his personal hardships. His foot was aching again, and Diederich waited for the pain in the anxious hope, mixed with self-contempt, that it would get worse, so bad that he could not go route marching again. Perhaps he might not even have to exercise any more in the barrack square, and they would have to give him his discharge.

Things came to the point where he called one Sunday on the father of one of his college friends, who was an advisory member of the Medical Council. Red with shame Diederich confessed that he had come to ask for his support. He loved the army, the whole system, and would gladly follow that career. He would be part of a great mechanism, an element in its strength, so to speak, and would always know what he had to do, which was a delightful feeling. But now his foot was paining him. "I can't let it go so far until it is useless. After all, I have to support my mother and sisters." The doctor examined him. "The Neo-Teutons for ever." said he. "It so happens your surgeon-major is a friend of mine." That fact was known to Diederich through his friend. He took his leave full of anxious hope.

The effect of this hope was that he could hardly stand the next morning. He reported sick. "Who are you? and why do you bother me?"—And the medical officer looked him over. "You look as fit as a fiddle and your waist line has diminished." But Diederich stood to attention and remained sick. The officer in charge had to come and make an examination. When the foot was uncovered the latter declared that if he did not light a cigar he would be ill. Still, he could find nothing wrong with the foot. The doctor pushed him impatiently from the chair. "Fit for duty, that's all, dismissed"—and Diederich was released. In the middle of drill he gave a sudden cry and collapsed. He was taken into the sick ward for slight cases where there was nothing to eat and a powerful smell of humanity. In this place it was difficult for the volunteers to procure their own food, and he got none of the other men's rations. Driven by hunger he reported himself cured. Cut off from all human protection, and from all the social privileges of civil life, he wore a gloomy look. But one morning, when he had lost all hope, he was called away from drill to the room of the surgeon-major-general. This important official wished to examine him. He spoke in an embarrassing, human kind of way, and then broke again into military gruffness which was not any more calculated to put one at one's ease. He too seemed to find nothing definite, but the result of his examination sounded somewhat different. Diederich was only to carry on "temporarily" until further notice. "With a foot like that…"

A few days later a hospital orderly came to Diederich and took an impression of this fateful foot on black paper. Diederich was ordered to wait in the consulting-room. The surgeonmajor happened to be passing and took the opportunity to express his complete contempt. "The foot is not even flat! all it wants is to be washed!" Just then the door was pushed open and the surgeon-major-general made his entry with his cap on his head. His step was firmer and surer than usual, he looked neither to the right nor to the left, stood silently in front of his subordinate, and glared gloomily and severely at his cap. The latter was embarrassed. He obviously found himself in a position which did not permit the usual comradeship of colleagues. But he realised the situation, took off his cap and stood at attention. His superior then showed him the paper with the tracing of Diederich's foot, spoke to him in a low tone but with an emphasis which commanded him to see something that was not there. The surgeon-major blinked alternately at his commanding officer, at Diederich and at the paper. Then he clicked his heels; he had seen what he was ordered to see.

When the major-general had gone, the major approached Diederich. With a slight smile of understanding he said politely:

"Of course, the case was clear from the beginning. Because of the men we had to … you understand, discipline.…"

Diederich stood at attention as a sign that he understood.

"But," continued the major, "I need hardly say I knew how your case stood."

Diederich thought: "If you didn't know it before you know it now." Aloud he said: "I trust you will pardon me for asking, sir, but shall I not be allowed to continue my service?"

"I cannot guarantee that," said the doctor, turning away.

From that time on Diederich was relieved of heavy duty. He went for no more route marches. His conduct in barracks was all the more friendly and willing. At roll-call in the evening the captain came from the mess, with a cigar in his mouth and slightly tipsy, to confine to cells those who had wiped their boots instead of polishing them. He never found fault with Diederich. On the other hand, he vented his righteous wrath all the more severely on a volunteer who, now in his third month, had to sleep in the men's dormitory as a punishment because he had not slept there, but at home, during his first fortnight's service. He had had at the time fourteen degrees of fever and would probably have died if he had done his duty. Well, let him die! The captain's face assumed an expression of proud satisfaction every time he looked at this volunteer. Standing in the background, small and unnoticed, Diederich thought: "You see, my boy, the Neo-Teutons and an Advisory Member of the Medical Council are more useful than fourteen degrees of fever. …" As far as he was concerned the official formalities were one day happily fulfilled, and Sergeant Vanselow informed him that he had received his release. Diederich's eyes at once filled with tears and he shook his hand warmly.

"Just my luck for a thing like that to happen to me, and I had"—he sobbed—"such a happy time."

Then he found himself outside in the street.

He remained at home four whole weeks and studied hard. When he went out to meals he looked round anxiously lest an acquaintance should see him. Finally he felt he would have to show himself to the Neo-Teutons. He assumed a challenging attitude.

"Until you have been in the army you have no idea what it's like. There, I can tell you, you see the world from a very different standpoint. I would have stayed altogether, my qualifications were so excellent that my superior officers advised me to do so. But then"—here he stared moodily in front of him—"came the accident with the horse. That is the result of being too good a soldier. The captain used to get some one to drive in his dog-cart to exercise the horse, and that is how the accident happened. Of course I did not nurse my foot properly and resumed duty too soon. The thing got very much worse, and the doctor advised me to prepare my relatives for the worst."—The words came sharply and with manly restraint.—"You should have seen the captain; he came to see me himself every day, after the long marches, just as he was, with his uniform covered with dust. During those days of suffering we became real comrades. Here, I still have one of his cigars. When he had to confess that the doctor had decided to send me away, I assure you it was one of those moments in a man's life which he can never forget. Both the captain and I had tears in our eyes." The whole company was deeply moved. Diederich looked bravely around at them.

"Well, now I suppose I must try and find my way back into civilian life. Your health."

He continued to cram and on Saturdays he drank with the Neo-Teutons. Wiebel also turned up. He had become an assistant judge, on the way to becoming a state's attorney, and could only talk of "subversive tendencies," "enemies of the fatherland" and "Christian socialist ideas." He explained to the freshmen that the time had come to take politics seriously. He knew it was considered vulgar, but their opponents made it necessary. Real feudal aristocrats, like his friend, von Barnim, were in the movement. Herr von Barnim would shortly honour the Neo-Teutons with his company.

When he came he won all hearts, for he treated them as equals. He had dark, closely cropped hair, the manner of a conscientious bureaucrat, and spoke in matter-of-fact tones, but at the end of his address his eyes had a look of ecstasy, and he said good-bye quickly, pressing their hands fervently. After his visit the Neo-Teutons all agreed that Jewish liberalism was the first fruits of social democracy and German Christians should rally to the Royal Chaplain, Stocker. Like the others, Diederich did not connect the expression "first fruits" with any definite idea, and he understood "social democracy" to mean a general division of wealth. And that was enough for him. But Herr von Barnim had invited those who desired further information to come to him, and Diederich would never have pardoned himself if he had missed so flattering an opportunity.

In his cold, old-fashioned, bachelor apartment Herr von Barnim held a private and confidential conclave. His political objective was a permanent system of popular representation as in the happy Middle Ages: knights, clergy, craftsmen and artisans. As the Emperor had rightly insisted, the crafts would have to be restored to the dignity which they enjoyed before the Thirty Years' War. The guilds were to cultivate religion and morals. Diederich expressed the warmest approval. The idea fully corresponded with his tendency, as a registered member of a profession and a gentleman of rank, to take his stand in life collectively rather than personally. He already pictured himself as the delegate of the paper industry. Herr von Barnim frankly excluded their Jewish fellow-citizens from his social order. Were they not the root of all disorder and revolution, of confusion and disrespectfulness, the principle of evil itself? His pious face was convulsed with hatred and Diederich felt with him.

"When all is said and done," he remarked, "we wield the power and can throw them out. The German army—"

"That's just it," cried Herr von Barnim, who was walking up and down the room. "Did we wage the glorious war in order to sell my family estate to a gentleman named Frankfurter?"

While Diederich maintained a disturbed silence, there was a ring and Herr von Barnim said: "This is my barber; I must tackle him also." He noticed Diederich's look of disappointment and added:

"Of course with such a man I talk differently. But each one of us must do his bit against the Social Democrats, and bring the common people into the camp of our Christian Emperor. You must do yours!" Thereupon Diederich took his leave. He heard the barber say:

"Another old customer, sir, has gone over to Liebling just because Liebling now has marble fittings."

When Diederich reported to Wiebel the latter said:

"That is all very well, and I have a particular regard for the idealistic viewpoint of my friend, von Barnim, but in the long run it will not get us anywhere. Stocker, you know, also made his damned experiments with democracy at the Ice Palace. Whether it was Christian or un-Christian democracy, I don't know. Things have got too far for that. To-day only one course is still open: To hit out hard so long as we have the power."

Greatly relieved Diederich agreed with him. To go round converting Christians had at once struck him as rather laborious.

"I will attend to the Social Democrats, the Emperor has said." Wiebel's eyes gleamed with a cat-like ferocity. "Now what more do you want? The soldiers have been given their orders, and it may happen that they will have to fire on their beloved relatives. What of it? I tell you, my dear fellow, we are on the eve of great events."

Diederich showed signs of excited curiosity.

"My cousin, von Klappke—" Wiebel paused and Diederich clicked his heels—"has told me things which are not yet ripe for publication. Suffice it to say that His Majesty's statement yesterday, that the grumblers should kindly shake the dust of Germany from the soles of their feet, was a damnably serious warning."

"Is that a fact? Do you really think so?" said Diederich. "Then it is the devil's own luck that I have to leave His Majesty's service just at this moment. I am not ashamed to say that I would have done my whole duty against the do mestic enemy. One thing I do know, the Emperor can rely upon the army."

I During those icy cold days of February, 1892, he went about the streets a great deal, in the expectation of great events. Along Unter den Linden something was afoot, but what it was could not yet be seen. Mounted police held the ends of the streets and waited. Pedestrians pointed to this display of force. "The unemployed!" People stood still to watch them approaching. They came from a northerly direction, marching slowly in small sections. When they reached Unter den Linden they hesitated, as if lost, took counsel by an exchange of glances, and turned off towards the Castle. There they stood in silence, their hands in their pockets, while the wheels of the cars splashed them with mud, and they hunched up their shoulders beneath the rain which fell on their faded overcoats. Many of them turned to look at passing officers, at the ladies in their carriages, at the long fur coats of the gentlemen hurrying from Burgstrasse. Their faces were expressionless, neither threatening nor even curious: not as if they wanted to see, but as if they wanted to be seen. Others never moved an eye from the windows of the Castle. The rain trickled down from their upturned faces. The horse of a shouting policeman drove them on further across the street to the next corner—but they stood still again, and the world seemed to sink down between those broad hollow faces, lit by the livid gleam of evening, and the stern walls beyond them which were already enveloped in darkness.

"I do not understand," said Diederich, "why the police do not take more energetic measures. That is certainly a rebellious crew."

"Don't you worry," Wiebel replied, "they have received exact instructions. Believe me, the authorities have their own well-developed plans. It is not always desirable to suppress at the outset such excrescences on the body politic. When they have been allowed to ripen, then a radical operation can be performed."

The ripening process to which Wiebel referred increased daily, and on the 26th it was completed. The demonstrations of the unemployed seemed more conscious of their objective. When they were driven back into one of the northern streets they overflowed into the next, and, before they could be cut off, they surged forward again in increased numbers. The processions all met at Unter den Linden, and as often as they were separated they ran together again. They reached the Castle, were driven back, and reached it again, silent and irresistible, like a river overflowing its banks. The traffic was blocked, the stream of pedestrians was banked up until it flowed over slowly into the flood which submerged the square; into this turbid, discoloured sea of poverty, rolling up in clammy waves, emitting subdued noises and throwing up, like the masts of sunken ships, poles bearing banners: "Bread! Work!" Here and there a more distinct rumbling broke out of the depths: "Bread! Work!" Swelling above the crowd it rolled off like a thunder-cloud: "Bread! Work!" The mounted police attack, the sea foams up and subsides, while women's voices shrilly cry like signals above the uproar: "Bread! Work!"

They are swept along, carrying with them the curious spectators standing on the Friederich monument. Their mouths are wide open; dust rises from the minor officials whose way to the office has been blocked, as if their clothes had been beaten. A distorted face, unknown to Diederich, shouts at him: "Here's something different! Now we are going for the Jews!"—and the face disappears before he remembers that it is Herr von Barnim. He tries to follow him, but in a big rush is thrown far across the road in front of a cafe, where he hears the crash of the broken windows and a workman shouting: "They fired me out of here lately with my thirty pfennig, because I had not got a silk hat on."—With him Diederich is forced in through the window, between the overturned tables and on to the floor, where they trip over broken glass, crushing against one another and howling. "No more in here! We must have air!" But still they clamber in. "The police are charging!" In the middle of the street, a free passage is miraculously made, as if for a triumphant procession. Then someone cries: "There goes Emperor William!"

Diederich found himself once more on the street. No one knew how it happened that they could suddenly move along in a solid mass the whole width of the street, and on both sides, right up to the flanks of the horse on which the Emperor sat—the Emperor himself. The people looked at him and followed him. Shouting masses were dissolved and swept along. Every one looked at him. A dark pushing mob without form, without plan, without limit, and bright above it a young man in a helmet: the Emperor. They looked. They had brought him down from his Castle. They had shouted: "Bread! Work!" until he had come. Nothing had been changed, except that he was there, and yet they were marching as if to a review of the troops at the Tempelhof.

On the outskirts, where the crowds were thinner, respectable people were saying to each other: "Well, thank God, he knows what he wants!"

"What does he want then?"

"To show that mob who is master ! He tried treating them kindly. He even went too far in remitting sentences two years ago; they have become impertinent."

"It certainly must be admitted that he is not afraid. My word, this is an historical moment!

Diederich listened ' and was thrilled. The old gentleman who had spoken turned to him. He had white side-whiskers and wore an iron cross.

"Young man," said he, "what our magnificent young Emperor is now doing will be learned one day by the children in their schoolbooks. Wait till you see!"

Many people threw out their chests with an air of reverence. The gentlemen who rode behind the Emperor kept their eyes fixed in front of them, but they guided their horses through the crowd as if all these folk were supers ordered to appear in some royal spectacle. At times they glanced sideways at the public to see how the latter were impressed. The Emperor himself saw only his own personality and his own performance. Profound seriousness was stamped upon his features and his eyes flashed over the thousands whom he had fascinated. He measured himself against them, he, the master by the grace of God, and his rebellious slaves. Alone and unprotected he had dared to come amongst them, strong only in the sense of his mission. They might lay violent hands upon him if that were the will of the Almighty. He offered himself as sacrifice to his sacred trust. He would show them whether God was on his side. Then they would carry away the impression of his action and the eternal memory of their own powerlessneess.

A young man wearing a wide-brimmed hat passed near Diederich and said: "Old stuff. Napoleon in Moscow fraternising alone with the people."

"But it is fine," asserted Diederich, and his voice faltered with emotion. The other shrugged his shoulders.

"Melodrama, and no good, at that."

Diederich looked at him and tried to flash his eyes like the Emperor.

"I suppose you are one of that rabble yourself."

He could not have explained what the rabble was. He simply felt that here, for the first time in his life, he had to defend law and order against hostile criticism. In spite of his agitation, he had another look at the man's shoulders; they were not imposing. The bystanders, too, were expressing disapproval. Then Diederich asserted himself. With his huge stomach he pressed the enemy against the wall and battered in his hat. Others joined in pummelling him, his hat fell to the ground, and soon the man himself lay there. As he moved on, Diederich remarked to his fellow-combatants: "That fellow has certainly not done his military service. He hasn't even got scars on his face; he has never fought a duel."

The old gentleman with the side-whiskers and the iron cross turned up again and shook Diederich's hand.

"Bravo, young man, bravo!"

"Isn't it enough to make you mad," said Diederich, still furious, "when the fellow tries to spoil our historical moment?"

"You have been in the army?" queried the old gentleman.

"I would have liked nothing better than to stay there," Diederich replied.

"Ah, yes, it isn't every day that we have a Sedan." The old gentleman touched his iron cross. "That's what we did!" Diederich stretched himself and pointed to the Emperor and the subdued crowd.

"That is as good as Sedan!"

"Hm, hm," said the old gentleman.

"Allow me, sir," cried some one, waving a notebook. "We must get that. A touch of atmosphere, y'understand? I suppose it was a damned radical you bashed?"

"Oh, a mere trifle"—Diederich was still boiling. "As far as I am concerned this would be the time to go straight for the domestic enemy. We have our Emperor with us."

"Fine," said the reporter as he wrote: "In the wildly agitated throng people of all classes were heard expressing their devoted loyalty and unshakable confidence in His Majesty."

"Hurrah!" shouted Diederich, for every one was shouting, and, caught in a great surge of shouting people, he was carried right along to the Brandenburger Tor. A few steps in front of him rode the Emperor. Diederich could see his face, its stony seriousness and flashing eyes, but he was shouting so much that his sight was blurred. An intoxication, higher and nobler than that which beer procured, raised his feet off the ground and carried him into the air. He waved his hat high above all heads, in a sphere of enthusiastic madness, in a heaven where our finest feelings move. There on the horse rode Power, through the gateway of triumphal entries, with dazzling features but graven as in stone. The Power which transcends us and whose hoofs we kiss, the Power which is beyond the reach of hunger, spite and mockery! Against it we are impotent, for we all love it! We have it in our blood, for in our blood is submission. We are an atom of that Power, a diminutive molecule of something it has given out. Each one of us is as nothing, but massed in ranks as Neo-Teutons, soldiers, bureaucrats, priests and scientists, as economic organisations and unions of power, we taper up like a pyramid to the point at the top where Power itself stands, graven and dazzling. In it we live and have our being, merciless towards those who are remote beneath us, and triumphing even when we ourselves are crushed, for thus does power justify our love for it!

II

"I have just met the Emperor," he began at once.

"The Emperor?" she asked abstractedly. With large, unaccustomed gestures he began to pour out the emotions which were choking him. Our magnificent young Emperor, all alone in the midst of a mob of revolutionaries! They had smashed up a cafe, and Diederich himself had been in it! He had fought bloody fights Unter den Linden for his Emperor! They ought to have turned machine guns on them!

"I suppose the people are hungry," said Agnes gravely. "They, too, are human beings."

"Do you call them human?" Diederich rolled his eyes indignantly. "They are the domestic enemy, that's what they are!" But he grew a little calmer when he saw Agnes start again with fear.

"No doubt it amuses you to find all the streets barred on account of that mob."

No, that was most inconvenient for Agnes. She had had some errands in the city, but when she wanted to go back to Bliicherstrasse there were no more buses running, and she could not get through anywhere. She had been pushed back to the Tiergarten. It was cold and wet; her father would be anxious; what was she to do? Diederich assured her that he would make it all right. They continued their way together. All of a sudden he felt tongue-tied and kept looking about as if he had lost his way. They were alone amongst the leafless trees and the wet, withered foliage. Where was all the manly rapture which had previously filled him? Diederich felt embarrassed, as he had been during that last walk with Agnes, when Mahlmann had warned him, and he had jumped on a bus, torn himself away and disappeared. Agnes was just saying: "It is a very, very long time since you came to see us. Didn't papa write to you?" Somewhat confused, Diederich explained that his own father had died. Now Agnes hastened to express her sympathy, then she went on to ask why he had suddenly disappeared three years ago.

"Isn't that so? It is nearly three years now."

Diederich recovered his self-possession and explained that his student life had taken up all his time, that it was a jolly strenuous business. "And then I had to do my military service."

"Oh!"—Agnes stared at him. "What a great man you have become! And now I suppose you have got your doctor's degree?"

"That will come very soon now."

He gazed discontentedly in front of him. The scars on his face, his broad shoulders, all the signs of his well-earned manliness—were these nothing to her? Did she not even notice them?

"But what about you?" he said suddenly. A faint blush suffused her thin, pale face and even the bridge of her small, aquiline nose, with its freckles.

"Yes, sometimes I don't feel very well, but I'll be all right again."

Diederich expressed his regrets.

"Of course I meant to say that you have become prettier"—and he looked at her red hair which escaped from under her hat, and seemed thicker than formerly because her face had become so thin. He was reminded of his former humiliations and of how different things were now. Defiantly he asked: "How is Herr Mahlmann?"

Agnes assumed an air of contempt. "Do you still remember him? If I were to see him again, I should not be particularly pleased."

"Really? But he has a patent office and could very easily marry."

"Well, what of it?"

"But you used to be greatly interested in him."

"What makes you think that?"

"He was always giving you presents."

"I would have preferred not to take them, but then—" she looked down at the ground, at the wet fallen leaves—"then I could not have accepted your presents." She was frightened and said nothing more. Diederich felt that something serious had happened and was silent also.

"They were not worth talking about," he said finally, "a few flowers." And, with returning indignation: "Mahlmann even gave you a bracelet."

"I never wear it," said Agnes. His heart began to beat violently as he managed to say: "And if I had given it to you?"

Silence. He held his breath. Softly he heard her whisper: "In that case, yes."

Then they walked on more quickly and without speaking a word. They came to the Brandenburger Tor, saw that Unter den Linden was full of police and hurried past it, turning into Dorotheenstrasse. Here there were few people about. Diederich slowed their pace and began to laugh.

"It is really very funny. Every present Mahlmann gave you was paid for with my money. I was still a greenhorn and he took everything from me."

He smiled in a superior way, and said that was ancient history, youthful follies.

"No, no," she said, quite disturbed.

Now, he said, the principal thing was: how was she to get home? They could not go any further this way either, and there were no more buses to be seen. "I am yery sorry, but you will have to put up with my society a little longer. In any case, I live just near here. You could come up to my apartment, at least you would be dry there. But, of course, a young lady can't do such a thing."

She still had that beseeching look of hers. "You are too kind," said she, breathlessly. "You are so noble." And as they entered the house, she added: "I know I can trust you, can't I?"

"I know what I owe to the honour of my corps," Diederich declared.

They had to pass the kitchen, but there was no one in it. "Won't you take off your things until you go out again?" said Diederich graciously. He stood there without looking at Agnes, and while she was taking off her hat he stood first on one foot and then on the other.

"I must go and find the landlady and get her to make some tea." He had turned towards the door, but started back, for Agnes had seized his hand and kissed it. "Agnes," he murmured, terribly frightened, and he put his arm around her shoulder to console her. Then she nestled against his. He pressed his lips to her hair, and pressed them fairly hard, because he felt that was the right thing to it. Under that pressure her whole being quivered and shook, as if she had been struck. Through her thin blouse her body felt warm and moist. Diederich felt hot. He kissed Agnes's neck, but suddenly her face was turned up to his, with her lips parted, her eyes half closed and an expression which he* had never seen before. It turned his head. "Agnes! Agnes! I love you," he cried, as if compelled by some deep emotion. She did not answer. Short, hot panting breaths came from her open mouth, and he felt that she was falling; as he carried her, she seemed to melt away.

She sat on the sofa and cried. "Don't be angry with me, Agnes," Diederich begged. Her eyes were wet as she looked at him. "I am crying with joy," said she. "I have waited so long for you."

"Why?" she asked, when he began to button her blouse,—"why do you cover me so soon? Do you no longer find me beautiful?"

He protested: "I am fully conscious of the responsibility I have undertaken."

"Responsibility?" Agnes queried. "Whose is it? I have loved you for three years, but you did not know it. It must have been our fate."

With his hands in his pockets Diederich was thinking that such is the fate of light-minded women. At the same time, he felt the need of hearing her repeat her protestations. "So I am really the only man you ever loved?"

"I saw that you did not believe me. It was terrible when I knew that you had stopped coming, and that everything was over. It was really awful. I wanted to write to you, to go and see you. I lost courage each time, because you might not want me any more. I was so run down that papa had to take me away."

"Where to?" asked Diederich, but Agnes did not answer. She drew him to her again. "Be good to me, I have no one but you!"

"Then you haven't got much," thought Diederich, embarrassed. Agnes appeared greatly diminished in his eyes, and lowered in his estimation, since he had proof that she loved him. He also said to himself that one could not believe everything a girl said who behaved like that.

"And Mahlmann?" he queried mockingly. "There must have been something between you and him— Oh, well, we'll say no more about it," he concluded, as she drew herself up, dumbfounded with horror. He tried to make things right again, saying he was still completely mastered by his joy.

She dressed herself very slowly. "Your father will not know at all what has happened to you," said Diederich. She merely shrugged her shoulders. When she was ready, and he had opened the door, she stood for a moment and looked back into the room with a long glance, full of fear.

"Perhaps," she said, as if talking to herself, "I shall never see this room again. I feel as if I were going to die to-night."

"Why do you say that?" asked Diederich aggrievedly. Instead of replying she clung to him again, her lips pressed to his, their two bodies so closely held together that they seemed but one. Diederich waited patiently. She broke away from him, opened her eyes and said: "You must not think that I expect anything from you. I love you and that is enough."

He offered to call a cab for her, but she preferred to walk. On the way he inquired after her family and other acquaintances. But by the time they had reached the Belle Alliance Platz he began to feel uneasy, and in rather muffled tones he said: "Of course you must not think that I want to evade my responsibility to you. But, you understand, for the moment I am not earning anything, and I must get fixed up and get into harness at the factory.…"

Agnes answered quietly and gratefully, as if a favour had been conferred upon her: "How nice it would be if I could become your wife later on."

When they turned into Blucherstrasse he stopped. Hesitatingly he suggested it would probably be better if he turned back.

"She is certainly a clever liar," thought Diederich. She added: "You are invited to dinner on Sunday, you must be sure to come."

This was too much for him, he started. "I must—? I am invited to—?" She smiled softly and shyly. "It cannot be avoided. If any one ever saw us— Do you not want me to come to you again?"

Oh, yes, he did. Nevertheless, she had to persuade him until he promised to put in an appearance. In front of her bouse, he said good-bye with a formal bow, and turned quickly away. "Women of that type," he thought, "are terribly subtle. I won't have too much to do with her." Meanwhile he noticed with reluctance that it was time to meet his friends for a drink. For some reason he was longing to be home. When he had shut the door of his room behind him he stood and stared into the darkness. Suddenly he raised his arms, turned his face upwards and breathed a long sigh: "Agnes!"

He felt entirely changed, as light as if he trod on air. "I am terribly happy," was his thought, and "never in my life again shall I experience anything so wonderful!" He was convinced that until then, until that moment, he had looked at things from a wrong angle, and had wrongly estimated them. Now his friends were drinking and giving themselves an air of importance. What did it matter about the Jews and the unemployed? Why should he hate them? Diederich even felt prepared to love them! Was it really he who had spent the day in a struggling mob of people whom he had regarded as enemies? They were human beings; Agnes was right. Was it really he who, for the sake of a few words, had beaten some body, had bragged, lied and foolishly over-exerted himself, and who had finally thrown himself, torn and stunned, in the mud before a gentleman on horseback, the Emperor, who had laughed at him? He recognised that, until Agnes came, his life had been helpless, poor and meaningless. Efforts which seemed those of another than himself, feelings which shamed him, and nobody whom he could love—until Agnes came! "Agnes! my sweet Agnes, you do not know how much I love you!" But she would have to know. He felt that he would never again be able to tell her so well as in this hour, and he wrote a letter. He wrote that he, too, had waited for her these three years, and that he had had no hope because she was too fine, too good, too beautiful for him; that he had said what he did about Mahlmann out of cowardice and spite, that she was a saint, and, now that she had condescended to him, he lay at her feet. "Lift me up, Agnes, I can be strong, I know I can, and I will dedicate my whole life to you!" He began to cry, pressing his face into the sofa cushion where her perfume still lingered, and sobbing like a child he fell asleep.

On Sunday when he rang at Göppel's it was Agnes herself who opened the door. "The girl seemed in no hurry to leave the kitchen range," said she; but her glance told the real reason. Not knowing what to say, Diederich allowed his eyes to wander to the silver bracelet which she rattled as if to draw his attention.

"Do you not recognise it?" Agnes whispered. He blushed. "The present from Mahlmann?"

"The present from you. This is the first time I have worn it." Suddenly he felt the warm pressure of her hand, then the door of the drawing-room opened. Herr Göppel turned to meet him: "Here is the man who deserted us!" But scarcely had he seen Diederich than his manner altered and he regretted his familiarity. "Really, Herr Hessling, I should hardly have known you again!" Diederich looked at Agnes as much as to say: "You see, he notices that I am no longer a callow youth."

"Everything is unchanged with you," Diederich observed and he greeted the sisters and brother-in-law of Herr Göppel. In reality he found them all appreciably older, especially Herr Göppel, who was not so lively, and whose cheeks were unhealthily fat. The children were bigger and some one seemed to be missing from the room. "Yes, indeed," concluded Herr Göppel, "time passes, but old friends always meet again."

"If you only knew in what circumstances," Diederich thought contemptuously as they went in to dinner. When the roast veal was brought on, it finally dawned upon him who used to sit opposite to him. It was the aunt who had so haughtily asked him what he was studying, and who did not know that chemistry and physics were two entirely different things. Agnes, who sat on his right, explained to him that this aunt had been dead for two years. Diederich murmured words of sympathy, but his private reflection was: "One more chatterbox the less." It seemed to him as if every one present had been punished and buffeted by fate, he alone had been raised in accordance with his merits. He swept Agnes from head to foot with a glance of possession.

As on the former occasion, they had to wait this time for the sweets. Agnes kept looking uneasily at the door and Diederich saw a shadow in her lovely blue eyes, as if something serious had happened. He suddenly felt the deepest sympathy for her and an immense tenderness. He rose and shouted through the door: "Marie! the custard!"

When he returned Herr Göppel drank to him. "You did the same thing before. Here you are like one of the family. Isn't that so, Agnes?" Agnes thanked Diederich with a glance which stirred his heart to the depths. He had to control himself to prevent tears from coming into his eyes. How kindly her relatives smiled at him. The brother-in-law clinked glasses with him. What good-hearted people! and Agnes, darling Agnes, loved him! He was unworthy of so much kindness! His conscience pricked him and he vaguely resolved to speak to Herr Göppel afterwards.

Unfortunately, after dinner Herr Göppel began again to talk about the riots. When we had at last shaken off the pressure of the Bismarckian jackboot there was no necessity to irritate the workers with flamboyant speeches. The young man (that was how Herr Göppel referred to the Emperor!) will talk until he has brought a revolution upon our heads. … Diederich found himself compelled to repudiate most sharply such fault-finding, on behalf of the young men who stood steadfast and true by their magnificent young Emperor. His Majesty himself had said: "I welcome heartily those who want to help me. I will smash those who oppose me." As he said this Diederich tried to flash his eyes. Herr Göppel declared that he would await events.

"In these difficult times," Diederich continued, "every one must stand forth in his true colours." He struck an attitude in front of the admiring Agnes.

"What do you mean by difficult times?" Herr Göppel asked. "The times are difficult only when we make life difficult for one another. I have always got on perfectly well with my workmen."

Diederich expressed his determination to introduce entirely different methods at home in his factory. There will be no room for social democrats, and on Sunday the people would have to go to church!—"So that is also included," said Herr Göppel. He could not expect such a thing from his people, when he himself went only on Good Friday. "Am I to fool them? Christianity is all right, but nobody believes any more all the stuff the parsons talk." Then Diederich's countenance assumed the most superior expression.

"My dear Herr Göppel, all I can say is this: what the powers that be, and especially my esteemed friend, Assessor von Barnim, consider it right to believe, I also believe—unconditionally. That's all I have to say."

The brother-in-law, who was a civil servant, suddenly took Diederich's side. Herr Göppel was already considerably excited when Agnes interrupted with coffee. "Well, how do you like my cigars?" Herr Göppel tapped Diederich's knee. "Don't you see, we are at one where human things are concerned." Diederich thought: "Especially as I am, so to speak, one of the family."

From sheer joy he seized her and kissed her, between the two doors, while immediately beside them the servant was clattering the dishes. She asked sadly: "Do you never think of what would happen to me if some one were to come now?" He was taken aback, and as a proof that she had forgiven him, he asked for another kiss. She gave it to him.

At three o'clock Diederich used to return to the laboratory from the cafe. Instead he was back in his room at two, and she did come before three o'clock. "Neither of us could wait! we love one another so much!" It was nicer, much nicer than the first time. No more tears nor fears, and the room was flooded with sunshine. Diederich loosened Agnes's hair in the sun and buried his face in it.

She stayed until it was almost too late to make the purchases which had served as an excuse at home. She had to run. Diederich, who ran with her, was greatly concerned lest any harm should come to her. But she laughed, looked rosy, and called him her bear. And so ended every day on which she came. They were always happy. Herr Göppel noticed that Agnes was looking better than ever and this made him feel younger. For that reason the Sundays were also jollier. They stayed on till evening, then punch was made. Diederich played Schubert or he and the brother-in-law sang students' songs while Agnes accompanied them. Sometimes these two glanced at each other and it seemed to them both that it was their happiness which was being celebrated.

It came about that in the laboratory the porter would come and inform him that a lady was waiting outside. He got up at once, blushing proudly under the knowing looks of his colleagues. Then they wandered off, went to the cafes and to the picture gallery. As Agnes was fond of pictures Diederich discovered that there were such things as exhibitions. Agnes loved to stand in front of a picture that pleased her, a picture of a tender, festive landscape from more beautiful countries, and with half-closed eyes to share her dreams with Diederich.

"If you look properly you'll see that it is not a frame, it is a gate with golden stairs and we are going down them and across the road ; we are bending back the hawthorn bushes and stepping into the boat. Don't you feel how it rocks? That's because we're trailing our hands in the water, it is so warm. Up there, on the hill, the white point, you know, is our house, that is our destination. Look, do you see?"

"Oh, yes," said Diederich with enthusiasm. He screwed up his eyes and saw everything that Agnes wished. He got so enthusiastic that he seized her hand to dry it. Then they sat in a corner and talked of the journeys they would make, of untroubled happiness in distant sunny lands, and of love without end. Diederich believed everything he said. At bottom he knew very well that he was destined to work and to lead a practical existence without much leisure for superfluities. But what he said here was true in a higher sense than everything that he knew. The real Diederich, the man he should have been, spoke the truth. But when they stood up to go Agnes was pale and seemed tired. Her lovely blue eyes had a brightness which made Diederich feel uncomfortable, and in a trembling whisper she asked: "Supposing our boat overturned?"

"Then I would rescue you!" replied Diederich with resolution.

"But it is far from the shore and the water is frightfully deep." And when he seemed powerless to make any suggestion: "We'd have to drown. Tell me, would you like to die with me?"

Diederich looked at her and shut his eyes. "Yes," he said with a sigh.

Afterwards he regretted having talked like that. He had noticed the reason why Agnes suddenly had to get into a cab and drive home. She was flushed and pale by turns and tried to hide how much she was coughing. Then Diederich regretted the. whole afternoon. Such things were unhealthy, led nowhere except to unpleasantness. His professor had begun to hear about the lady's visits. It wouldn't do for her to take him from his work whenever the whim seized her. He explained the whole matter to her patiently. "I suppose you are right," she said. "Normal people must have regular hours. But what if I must come to you now at half-past five when I feel inclined to love you most at four?"

He sensed a joke in this, perhaps even contempt, and was rude. He had no use for a sweetheart who wished to hinder him in his career. He had not counted on that. Then Agnes begged his pardon. She would be quite humble and would wait for him in his room. If he still had anything to do, he need have no consideration for her. Diederich was shamed by this, he softened and abandoned himself with Agnes in complaints against the world which was not made entirely for love. "Is there no alternative?" Agnes asked. "You have a little money and so have I. Why worry about making a position for yourself? We could be so happy together." Diederich agreed, but afterwards he cherished a grievance against her. He used to keep her waiting deliberately. He even declared that going to political meetings was a duty which took precedence over his meetings with Agnes. One evening in May, as he returned home late, he met a young man at the door in a volunteer's uniform, who looked at him in a hesitating manner. "Herr Diederich Hessling?"—"Oh, yes," Diederich stammered. "You are Herr Wolfgang Buck, aren't you?"

The youngest son of the great man of Netzig had at last decided to obey his father's orders and call on Diederich. The latter took him upstairs, as he could not think at once of an excuse to get rid of him, and there sat Agnes! On the landing he raised his voice so that she could hear him and hide. In fear and trembling he opened the door. There was nobody in the room, even her hat was not on the bed, but Diederich knew very well that she had been there a moment previously. He knew it by the chair which was not in its exact place. And he felt it in the air which seemed still to vibrate gently from the swish of her skirts. She must have gone into the little windowless room where his washstand was. He pushed a chair in front of it and with peevish embarassment grumbled about his landlady who hadn't cleaned out his room. Wolfgang Buck hinted that perhaps his visit was untimely. "Oh, no!" Diederich assured him, and he asked his visitor to be seated and got some cognac. Buck apologised for calling at such an unusual hour, but his military service left him no choice. "Oh, I quite understand that," said Diederich, and, in order to anticipate awkward questions, he began at once to explain that he had a year's service behind him, that he was delighted with the army, for it was the life. How lucky were those who could stay in it! He, unfortunately, was called by family duties. Buck smiled, a gentle, sceptical smile which irritated Diederich. "Well, of course, there were the officers, they, at least, were people with good manners."