"Well, my little Doctor," said Herr von Wulckow, turning round his chair, "what is the matter with you? You are becoming a real statesman. Won't you take this seat of honour?"

"If I may be so bold," stammered Diederich. "I have been able to do something for the national cause."

Wulckow blew an enormous volume of smoke into his face, then he came quite close to him with his hot-blooded, cynical eyes beneath their Oriental lids. "To start with, you have succeeded in getting into the Town Council. Well, we won't go into that. At all events, it will help you, for I understand your business is in a pretty bad way." Wulckow laughed boisterously as Diederich winced. "That's all right. You are the man for me. What do you think I have been writing here?" The huge sheet was hidden by the paper-weight which he placed upon it. "I have asked the minister for a little dicky bird for a certain Dr. Hessling, in recognition of his services on behalf of loyal opinion in Netzig. … I am sure you never thought I could be as nice as that," he added, for Diederich kept bowing from his chair, looking dazzled and seized with sudden weakness. "I can hardly say," he murmured, "… my modest services …"

"It is the first step that counts," said Wulckow. "This is only a little encouragement. Your attitude in the Lauer trial was pretty good. Your call for cheers for the Emperor during the debate at the Council set the anti-monarchical press by the ears. In three different places around the country-side complaints of lèse-majesté have been raised on the head of it. We must, therefore, show you some mark of our appreciation."

Diederich cried: "My highest reward is the fact that the 'Lokal-Anzeiger' brought my humble name to the attention of His Gracious Majesty himself!"

"Well, now, won't you take a cigar?" Wulckow concluded, and Diederich understood that they were now coming to business. Already a doubt had arisen in the midst of his elation as to whether Wulckow's condescension had not some special motive. He said, as a feeler:

"The town, I am pretty sure will sanction its quota for the line to Ratzenhausen."

Wulckow thrust his head forward. "So much the better for you. Otherwise we have a much more inexpensive scheme, in which Netzig will not be involved at all. So see that those people learn sense. On that condition you will have the privilege of furnishing your light to the Quitzin estates."

"The Council doesn't want that." Diederich pleaded with his hands for consideration. "The town loses on the transaction, and Herr von Quitzin pays no taxes to us. … But now I am a municipal councillor as well as a loyal patriot. …"

"I must insist on that, otherwise my cousin, Herr von Quitzin, will simply instal his own electric plant. He can get that cheap, as you may imagine; two cabinet ministers come to his place for the hunting. Then he will undersell you here in Netzig itself."

Diederich straightened himself up. "Sir, I am determined, I am determined, despite all hostile attacks, to hold aloft the national banner in Netzig." Then, in softer tones :"In any case we can get rid of one enemy, indeed a particularly bad one, old Kliising in Gausenfeld."

"That fellow?" Wulckow smiled contemptuously. "He eats out of my hand. He supplies paper to the official newspapers of the district." "Do you know whether he does not supply even more to the bad papers? On that score, with all due respect, I am probably better informed."

"The 'Netziger Journal' has become more reliable from the national standpoint."

"That is true"—Diederich nodded impressively—"since the day when old Klüsing allowed me to tender for part of the paper supply. Gausenfeld was supposed to be too full of orders. Of course, he was really afraid that I would become interested in a rival sheet on the national side. And perhaps he was also afraid"—a significant pause—"that the Governor might prefer to order the paper for the official press from a patriotic firm."

"So you now supply the 'Netziger Journal'?"

"Never will I so betray my patriotic convictions as to supply a paper so long as there is Liberal money behind it."

"Hm. Very good." Wulckow rested his hands on his thighs. "You needn't say anything more. You want the whole contract for the 'Netziger Journal.' You also want the official organs of the district. Probably also the supplies of paper for government use. Anything else?".

To which Diederich replied in practical tones:

"Hm. Very good," repeated Wulckow, blinking. Diederich played his trump card.

"Under Klüsing, sir, Gausenfeld is a breeding ground of revolution. Amongst his eight hundred workmen there is not one who ever votes for any one but a Social Democrat."

"Well, and what about your men?"

Diederich struck his chest. "God is my witness that I would rather shut the whole shop to-day, and go into poverty with my family, than keep one single man in my employment whom I knew to be unpatriotic."

"Most excellent sentiments," said Wulckow. Diederich looked at him with candid eyes. "I only take people who have been in the army. Forty of them served in the war. I no longer employ young men since that affair with the workman whom the sentry laid low on the field of honour, as His Majesty was pleased to state, after the fellow and his girl, behind my rags—"

Wulckow interrupted: "That's your funeral, my little man."

Diederich did not allow his plan to be spoiled. "There shall be no revolution hatched in my rags. In yours, I mean in politics, it is different. There we can use the revolution so that out of the rags of Liberalism, white patriotic paper may come." He looked exceedingly profound, but Wulckow did not seem impressed. His smile was terrible.

"My boy, I wasn't born yesterday. Let me hear what you have worked out with your machinist."

When he saw Diederich giving ground, Wulckow continued: "He is also one of your old soldiers, Mr. Councillor?"

Diederich gulped, but saw there was no use beating any more about the bush. He spoke with determination at first, but his voice became quick and nervous. "The man wants to go into the Reichstag, and from the national standpoint he is better than Heuteufel. In the first place, many Liberals will turn patriotic out of fear, and in the second, if Napoleon Fischer is elected, we shall get a monument to Emperor William in Netzig. I have it in writing."

He spread out the paper in front of the Governor. Wulckow read it, then he stood up, kicked away his chair, and walked up and down the room, smoking like a chimney. "So Kühlemann snuffs out, and with his half million the town will build, not an Infant Asylum, but a monument to Emperor William." He stood still. "Mind you this, my friend, in your own interest. If Netzig afterwards has a Social Democrat in the Reichstag, but no William the Great, then I'll teach you a lesson. I'll smash you to pulp. I'll break you so small that they won't even admit you to the Infant Asylum!"

Diederich and his chair had both retreated against the wall. "Everything I am, my whole future, is staked on the national cause. The uncertainty of human affairs may affect me.…"

"Then, God help you!"

"Suppose Kuhlemann again recovers from stone in the kidneys?"

"You are responsible! My reputation is also at stake!" Wulckow dropped heavily into his chair, and smoked furiously. When the clouds had dispersed he had cheered up again. "What I told you the night of the play is certain. This parliament will not last long. Get to work in the town here in advance. Help me against Buck and I'll help you against Klüsing."

Wulckow's smile filled Diederich with a great wave of hope. He could not contain himself. "If you would let him know on the quiet that you contemplated taking away the contracts from him! He will not make a row about it, you need not fear, but he will take measures accordingly. Perhaps he would negotiate—"

"With his successor," Wulckow concluded. Then it was Diederich's turn to jump up and walk up and down the room. "If you only knew, sir. … Gausenfeld is a machine of a thousand horse-power, so to speak, and there it stands rusting away, because the current is lacking, I mean, the modern, far-seeing mind!"

"You have that, apparently," insinuated Wulckow. "In the service of the national cause," Diederich assured him. He descended from the clouds. "The Kaiser Wilhelm Monument Committee will be most happy, if we succeed in inducing you to have the kindness to signify your esteemed interest by accepting the position of honorary chairman."

"Done!" said Wulckow.

"The Committee will duly appreciate the disinterested services of its honorary chairman."

"Be a little more explicit!" There was an ominous note in Wulckow's voice, but in his excitement Diederich failed to notice it.

"This idea has already given rise to certain discussions in committee. There is a desire to erect the monument on the most frequented site, and to surround it with a public park, so that the indissoluble bond between the ruler and his people may be prominently displayed. For that reason we thought of rather large pieces of property in the centre of the town, the adjoining houses are also available. It is in Meisestrasse."

"Oh, really? Meisestrasse." Wulckow's frown betokened a storm. Diederich was frightened, but he could not back out now.

"It occurred to us that, before the town looks into the matter more closely, we should make sure of the property in question, and thus anticipate undesirable speculations. Our honorary chairman, of course, would have the first right.…"

At this word Diederich retreated and the storm broke. "Sir! What do you take me for? Am I your business agent? This is intolerable; it is unbelievable! A damned tradesman has the cheek to presume that the representative of His Majesty the King will take a hand in his dirty deals!"

"You are guilty of libelling a government official, sir!" Wulckow screamed, and Diederich, who was feeling behind his back for the table, could only wonder whether the dog or his master would be the first to seize him by the throat. His terrified glance strayed until it was held by a pale face on the wall which glared down threateningly at him. Now authority had caught him by the throat! He had dared to treat with authority on equal footing. That had proved his undoing. It broke upon him with all the terror of a cataclysm. … The door behind the writing table opened and some one in a police uniform entered. The demoralised Diederich was no longer capable of astonishment. The presence of the uniform suggested another fearful thought to Wulckow. "I could have you arrested this moment, you contemptible upstart, for attempted bribery of an official, bribery of the authorities, the highest authority in the district! I'll bring you to jail and ruin you for life!"

This last judgment was not far from having the same effect upon the gentleman from the police as upon Diederich. He laid the document which he had brought upon the table and disappeared. For the rest, Wulckow also turned around suddenly and lit his cigar again. Diederich no longer existed for him. Schnaps also left him alone, as if he had been made of air. Then Diederich ventured to fold his hands.

"Sir," he whispered shakily, "allow me, sir, to assure you; there is, if I may say so, a regrettable misunderstanding. With my well-known patriotic sentiments I would never … How could I?"

He waited, but nobody took any notice of him.

"If I were thinking of my own advantage," he resumed, a little more confidently, "instead of always having the national interest in view, I would not be here to-day, but at Herr Buck's. Herr Buck, I ought to tell you, proposed that I should sell my property to the town for the Liberal Infant Asylum. But I repelled the suggestion with indignation, and came straight to you. Better, I said, the Monument to Emperor William the Great in the heart, than the Infant Asylum in the pocket, said I. I say it now with no uncertain voice!"

As Diederich actually did raise his voice, Wulckow turned to him. "Are you still here?" he asked. And Diederich again in mortal fear: "Sir.…"

"What are you waiting for? I do not know you at all. Have never had anything to do with you."

"Sir, in the national interest—"

"I can have no dealings with land sharks. Sell your plot of ground and good luck to you. Afterwards we can do business."

Diederich turned pale and felt as if he were being crushed against the wall. "In that case, do our conditions still hold good? The decoration? The hint to Klüsing? The honorary chairmanship?"

Wulckow made a wry face. "Well and good. But you must sell at once."

Diederich gasped for breath. "I will make the sacrifice," he declared. "The noblest possession of a loyal patriot, my fidelity to the Emperor, must be placed beyond suspicion."

"All right, then," said Wulckow, as Diederich withdrew, proud of his exit, though disturbed by the discovery that the Governor did not view him as an ally with any greater favour than he viewed his machinist.

In the drawing-room he found Emma and Magda all alone, turning over the pages of a magnificent looking volume. The visitors had all gone and Frau von Wulckow had left them, because she had to dress for a party given by the wife of Colonel von Haffke. "My interview with the Governor passed off quite satisfactorily for both of us," Diederich remarked. And when they were in the street, he added: "There you can see what it means when two honourable men negotiate. In the business world to-day that is unknown, there are so many Jews."

This understanding with Wulckow, however, had only in creased his troubles. The definite obligation to sell his house promised nothing more in return than hopes and prospects: vague prospects and hopes that were too bold. … It was freezing. On Sunday Diederich went to the park, where it was already growing dark, and on a lonely path he met Wolfgang Buck.

"I have made up my mind," Buck declared. "I am going on the stage."

"And what about your social position? And your marriage?"

"I have tried my best, but the theatre is preferable. There is less comedy, you know, people are more genuine. The women are also more beautiful."

"That is not a proper attitude," replied Diederich. But Buck was in earnest. "I must say the rumour about Guste and me amused me. On the other hand, silly as it is, the rumour exists. The girl is suffering under it and I cannot compromise her any longer."

Buck admitted this. "It would be a special satisfaction," he said significantly, "to a really big, modern man to raise a girl up to his own level, under such circumstances, and to take her part. Here, where there is also money, nobility of mind would doubtless end by carrying the day. Remember the ordeal in Lohengrin."

"How do you mean, Lohengrin?"

Buck returned no answer to this. As they had reached the Saxon Gate he became uneasy. "Will you come in with me?" he asked. "In where?"—"Just here, 77 Schweinichenstrasse. I must tell her. Perhaps you could …" Then Diederich gave a whistle.

"You are really … Have you said nothing to her yet? You tell it all round the town first. That's your affair, my dear fellow, but leave me out of it. I am not in the habit of breaking off the engagements of other men's fiancées."

"Make an exception," begged Buck. "I cannot stand scenes."

"I have principles," said Diederich. Buck turned into the street.

"You need not say anything. You need only play a silent part, as moral support."

"Moral?" Diederich queried.

"As the spokesman, so to speak, of the fatal rumour."

"What does that mean?"

"I am only joking. Come on. Here we are."

Feeling touched by Buck's last allusion, Diederich accompanied him without another word.

Frau Daimchen was out, and Guste sent word to them to wait. Buck went to find out what was keeping her. Finally she came, but she was alone. "Wasn't Wolfgang here, too?" she asked.

Buck had decamped!

Guste blushed. Diederich turned towards the door. "Then I had better be going."

"What on earth did he want?" she inquired. "It doesn't often happen that he wants anything. And why. did he bring you with him?"

"I don't understand that either. In fact, I may say that I decidedly object to his bringing witnesses in such a matter. It is not my fault. Good-bye."

The more embarrassed his manner became the more insistent was she.

"I must decline," he confessed finally, "to burn my fingers in the affairs of a third person, especially when the third party skedaddles and evades his most earnest obligations."

With eyes wide open Guste seemed to watch each word singly as it fell from Diederich's lips. When the last was uttered she remained motionless for a moment, and then buried her face in her hands. She was sobbing and he could see her swollen cheeks and the tears trickling between her fingers. She had no handkerchief, and Diederich affected by her sorrow, lent her his. "After all," said he, "he is not such a great loss." But then Guste arose in her wrath. "You dare say that! It was you who was attacking him. That he should send just you here seems to be more than strange."

"Kindly explain what you mean," demanded Diederich. "You must have known just as well as I, my dear young lady, what to expect from the gentleman in question. Where a man's opinions are feeble, everything else in him is equally so."

As she looked him up and down mockingly, he continued, all the more severely: "I told you beforehand exactly what would happen."

Then it burst from Guste, in spite of herself: "If you only knew. It is that which I cannot pardon in him, that everything was indifferent to him, even my money!"

Diederich was staggered. "One shouldn't have anything to do with such people," he said primly. "They have no backbone, and are as slippery as eels." He shook his head impressively. "The person who is indifferent to money does not understand life."

She gave a feeble laugh. "In that case, you understand it wonderfully."

"Let us hope so," he replied. She came closer to him and smiled at him through her tears.

"Well, you have been right all along. What am I to do now?" She turned down the corners of her mouth. "Anyway, I never loved him. I was only waiting for an opportunity to get rid of him. Now he shows what a cad he is by going off himself! … Let us get on without him," she added with an alluring glance. But Diederich merely took back his handkerchief, and seemed to have no wish for anything more.

"You are no doubt referring to the position in which I have been placed."

He declined to be drawn. "I did not say anything." Guste complained softly: "If people say dreadful things about me I cannot help it."

"Neither can I."

Guste bowed her head "Ah, yes, I suppose I shall have to give in. A person like me does not deserve to be taken by a really fine man with a serious view of life." As she said this she peeped at him from under her eyelashes to see the effect. Diederich snorted. "It is possible—" He began and he stopped. Guste held her breath. "Let us suppose," he said with sharp emphasis, "that some one, on the contrary, takes a most earnest view of life, sees things in a large modern fashion, is as fully conscious of his responsibilities to himself and his future children as to his King and country, and undertakes to protect the defenceless woman and to raise her up to his own level."

Guste's expression had become more and more solemn. She pressed her palms together, and looked at him, with her head on one side, fervently entreating him. This did not seem to be enough—he obviously demanded something quite unusual, so Guste fell plump upon her knees—then Diederich graciously approached her. "So shall it be," he said, his eyes flashing.

At this point Frau Daimchen entered. "Hello," she said, "what has happened?" With great presence of mind Guste replied: "Oh, mother, we are looking for my ring." Whereupon Frau Daimchen also got down on the ground. Diederich did not wish to be behind-hand. After they had all crawled about for a while in silence, Guste cried: "Here it is!" She stood up and said in resolute tones:

"In case you don't know, mother, I have changed my mind." Frau Daimchen, still out of breath, did not understand at first. Guste and Diederich united their efforts in making the matter clear to her. In the end she admitted that she herself had thought the same thing because of the way people were talking: "In any case, Wolfgang was too lackadaisical, except when he lad had something to drink. The family was the only thing, on the other hand, the Hesslings don't amount to much."

Diederich said she would see, and announced that nothing could be taken as settled until the practical side of the question had been discussed. They had to produce documentary evidence of Guste's dowry, and then he insisted upon joint-ownership of the property—then, whatever he did with the money afterwards, nobody would interfere! Every time they opposed him he took hold of the door handle, and each time Guste remonstrated with her mother in a beseeching whisper: "Do you want the whole town to be wagging their jaws to-morrow because I have got rid of one man and lost the other?"

When everything was settled Diederich became genial. He stayed to supper with the ladies, and without waiting for their answer, he was on the point of sending the servant for champagne to celebrate the engagement. Frau Daimchen was offended at this, for of course she had some in the house, the officers who came to see them expected it. "The truth is you have more luck than cunning, for Lieutenant von Brietzen could also have had Guste." At this Diederich laughed good-humouredly. Things were going swimmingly. He had the money and Emma had Lieutenant von Brietzen! … They grew very jolly. After the second bottle the happy couple were rolling up against one another on their chairs, their legs were intertwined up to the knee, and Diederich's hands were busy caressing Guste. Frau Daimchen sat twiddling her thumbs. Suddenly a loud report was heard for which Diederich at once accepted full responsibility, saying that it was the custom in aristocratic circles, that he was a frequent guest of the Wulckows.

What a surprise when Netzig learnt the strange turn the affair had taken. To the inquiries of his congratulating friends Diederich replied that he was quite undecided what he would do with his wife's million and a half. Perhaps he would move to Berlin, where there was more scope for big undertakings. In any case he thought he would sell his factory as opportunity offered. "The paper industry is going through a crisis anyhow; this little piece of property buried in the middle of Netzig is quite inadequate to my circumstances."

At home there was joy and sunshine. The girls received increased pocket-money, and Diederich allowed his mother as many embraces and tender scenes as her heart desired. He even accepted her blessing with good grace. Every time Guste came it was in the part of a good fairy, with her arms full of flowers, sweets and silver bags. By her side it seemed to Diederich he was walking along a flower-strewn path. The heavenly days passed quickly with purchases, champagne breakfasts and visits by the engaged couple, who sat inside the carriage busily absorbed in one another, while the box seat was occupied by a footman hired for the occasion.

Then came the wedding day; for they were both in a hurry, Guste because of the people, Diederich for political reasons. In prder to make a bigger splash it had been arranged that Magda and Kienast should be married on the same day. Kienast had arrived and Diederich kept looking at him uneasily, for he had shaved his beard, turned up the points of his moustache and already learnt to flash his eyes. In the negotiations over Magda's share in the business he displayed a truly terrifying commercial sense. Not without anxiety for the ultimate issue of the whole thing, though determined to fulfil his duty to himself without flinching, Diederich was now more constantly absorbed in his account books. … Even on his wedding morning he was sitting in his office, in full dress, when a visiting card was presented: Karnauke, First Lieutenant, Retired. "What on earth does he want, Sötbier?" The old book keeper did not know either. "Well, it doesn't matter. I can't refuse to see an officer," and Diederich went himself to the door.

In the doorway, however, he met a gentleman who held him self unusually stiffly, in a green summer overcoat, which was dripping and was buttoned tightly around his neck. A pool of water formed at once underneath his patent leather shoes, and the rain fell from his green Tyrolese hat, which he had not removed, strange to say. "First let us get dried a bit," said the gentleman, moving towards the stove, before Diederich could speak. "For sale, what? Queer street, what?" At first Diederich did not grasp his meaning; then he glanced uneasily at Sötbier. The old fellow had resumed his letter. "You must have made a mistake in the number of the house," said Diederich in a conciliatory tone, but it was no use.

"Bosh, I know exactly. No nonsense. Superior orders. Sell and keep your mouth shut, or God help you."

This speech was too obvious. Diederich could no longer ignore the fact that, in spite of his military past, the incredible stiffness of the gentleman's bearing was not natural, and that his eyes were glassy. Just as Diederich came to this conclusion the gentleman took his little green hat and shook the water out of it onto Diederich's dress shirt front. This drew a protest which the gentleman took in very bad part. "I am at your disposal," he snarled. "Herren von Quitzin and von Wulckow will call upon you as my seconds." He blinked strenuously at these words, and Diederich, upon whom an awful suspicion was dawning, forgot his anger, his sole thought being to get the first lieutenant out through the door. "We'll talk outside," he whispered to him, and to Sotbier, on the other side: "The man is helplessly drunk. I'll have to see how I can get rid of him." But Sötbier's lips were pressed together, his brow wrinkled, and this time he did not return to his letter.

The gentleman went straight out into the rain; Diederich following him. "No offence meant; we can talk things over." It was not until he was wet through that he succeeded in piloting the gentleman back into the house. Through the empty machine room the first lieutenant yelled: "A glass of brandy; I'll buy everything, including the brandy!" Although the workmen had the day off, on account of the wedding, Diederich looked anxiously around. He opened the little room where the sacks of chlorine were kept, and got the gentleman inside With a desperate shove. The stench was awful. The gentleman sniffed several times, and then said: "My name is Karnauke. Why do you stink so?"

"Who is backing you?" asked Diederich. This also irritated the gentleman. "What do you mean to insinuate? … Oh, I see. I'll buy the whole show." Following Diederich's glance he gazed at his dripping, light summer coat, "Temporarily embarrassed," he growled. "Am acting for honourable parties. Genuine offer."

"How much are you commissioned to offer?"

Diederich grew indignant and angry by turns. The land alone was worth two hundred thousand. The lieutenant insisted: "A hundred and twenty for the lot."

"Nothing doing"—Diederich made an incautious move towards the door, whereupon the gentleman tackled him seriously. Diederich had to struggle, fell onto a sack of chlorine, and the other on top of him. "Get up," gasped Diederich, "we'll be bleached here." The lieutenant howled aloud as if it already burnt through his clothes—then he suddenly resumed his stiff demeanour. He blinked. "Governor von Wulckow will cut up nasty; if you don't sell, hell do nothing for you. Cousin Quitzin is extending his property hereabouts. He's counting for a certain on your meeting his wishes. A hundred and twenty for the lot." Diederich turned whiter than if he had remained in the chlorine, and tried again: "One hundred and fifty"—but his voice failed him. It was too much for an honourable man! Wulckow insisting upon his official honour, as incorruptible as the Last Judgment! … Disconsolately he once again looked at the figure of this Karnauke, First Lieutenant, Retired. That was the man Wulckow sent; he put himself in the hands of such a person! Couldn't they recently have negotiated the deal between themselves, with all due precautions and with mutual respect? But these Junkers could only spring at your throat: they could not yet understand that business is business. "Just go on ahead to the notary's," whispered Diederich, "I'll he right after you." He showed him out, but when he himself was on the point of leaving, old Sötbier was standing there, with his lips still pursed. "What do you want?" Diederich was exhausted.

"Young master," began the old man in a hollow voice. "I can no longer be responsible for what you are now planning to do."

"You do not know, Master Diederich! It is the life work of your lamented father and myself that I am defending. Because we built up the business with industry and hard work, you have become big. If you buy expensive machinery at one time and decline contracts the next, that is a zig-zag course which will bring the business to ruin. And now you are selling the old house."

"You were listening at the keyhole. If anything happens without you, you still cannot stand the idea. Mind you don't catch cold here," Diederich sneered.

"You must not sell it!" moaned Sötbier. "I cannot look on and see the son and heir of my old master undermining the solid foundations of the firm and playing for heavy stakes."

Diederich gave him a pitying look. "In your time, Sötbier, big ideas were unknown. Nowadays people take risks. Push is the main thing. Later you will see what was the advantage in my selling the house."

"Yes, you will only see that later, too. Perhaps when you are bankrupt, or when your brother-in-law, Herr Kienast, brings a lawsuit against you. You have manipulated certain things to the prejudice of your sisters and your mother! If I were to tell Herr Kienast certain things—only I have a sense of family piety, I could get you into trouble!"

The old man was beside himself. He was screaming and there were tears of passion on his red eyelids. Diederich went up to him and held his clenched fist under his nose: "Just you try it! I will simply prove that you have been robbing the firm and always did. Do you imagine I haven't taken precautions?"

"That would suit you very well," said Diederich harshly and coldly. "Consider yourself lucky that I don't fire you on the spot. You may send in your resignation, it is accepted." And he marched off.

At the notary's he asked that the purchaser in the agreement of sale be described as "unknown." Karnauke grinned. "Unknown is good. Don't we know Herr von Quitzin?" At this the notary also smiled. "I see," said he, "that Herr von Quitzin is spreading out. For a long time he owned in Meisestrasse only the little Cock tavern. But he is also in negotiations for the two pieces of property behind yours, Dr. Hessling. Then he will be on the borders of the park and will have room for immense buildings."

Diederich began to tremble again. In a whisper he begged the notary to be discreet as long as possible. Then he said good-bye, as he had no time to lose. "I know," said the first lieutenant holding him fast. "Day of joy. Luncheon at the Hotel Reichshof. I'm ready." He opened his green overcoat and pointed to his crumpled dress-suit. Diederich looked at him in horror, tried to put him off, but the lieutenant again threatened him with his backers.

The bride had been waiting for a long time, and the two mothers were drying their tears amidst the knowing smiles of the other ladies present. This bridegroom had also jumped the traces! Magda and Kienast were furious, and messengers were running between Schweinichenstrasse and Meisestrasse. … At last! Diederich came, though he was wearing his old dresssuit. He did not even condescend to explain. At the civil ceremony and in the church he was absent-minded. On all sides it was said that no blessing could rest upon a marriage consummated under such circumstances. Pastor Zillich even mentioned in his discourse that earthly possessions did not endure. His disappointment was comprehensible. Käthchen did not come at all.

At the wedding luncheon Diederich sat in silence, obviously busied with other things. He even forgot to eat and stared into space. First Lieutenant Karnauke alone had the faculty of arousing his attention. The lieutenant admittedly did his best. No sooner had the soup been removed than he proposed a toast to the bride, making allusions which were excessive in proportion to the amount of wine the rest of the company had drunk. Diederich was more disturbed by certain references of Karnauke's, which were accompanied by winks in his direction and which unfortunately sounded suspicious to Kienast. The moment arrived which Diederich had foreseen with beat ing heart. Kienast stood up and asked him for a word in private. … Just then the first lieutenant tapped energetically on his glass, and jumped up stiffly from his seat. The considerable noise of the party was hushed. A blue ribbon could be seen hanging from Karnauke's pointed fingers, and beneath it a cross, whose gold rim sparkled. … Ah, what an uproar and congratulations! Diederich stretched out his two hands, an ineffable joy flowed from his heart to his throat, and he began to speak involuntarily, before he knew what he was say ing: "His Majesty … unprecedented graciousness … modest services … unshakable loyalty." He bowed and scraped, and as Karnauke handed him the cross, he laid his hands on his heart, closed his eyes and sank back, as if another stood before him, the Donor himself. Basking in the royal approval Diederich felt that salvation and victory were his. Wulckow had kept his pact. Authority kept its pact with Diederich! The Order of the Crown, fourth class, glittered. It was an event, foreshadowing the William the Great monument and Gausenfeld, business and glory!

It was time to break up. Kienast, though moved and impressed, succeeded in getting a few words from Diederich of general significance, about the glorious days which he would enjoy, and the great things which were in store for him and the whole family—and then Diederich was off with Guste.

VI

That night they became reconciled both to Zurich and the hotel. In the first place their room on the fourth floor was cheap, if not distinguished. And then, just opposite the twin beds of the wedded couple there hung an almost life-size picture of an odalisque, whose brownish body reclined voluptuously on a pillow, her hands under her head, and her dark eyes full of languishing desire. The figure was cut off in the middle by the frame, a fact which moved them to joking comment. The next day they went about with eyelids heavy as lead, ate enormous meals, and wondered what would have happened if the odalisque had been entirely visible instead of being cut off from the waist. They were too tired to catch the train and returned in the evening, as soon as possible, to their inexpensive and inspiring room. There was no saying when this sort of existence might have ended, if Diederich's heavy eyes had not caught sight of an announcement in the newspaper that the Emperor was on his way to Rome to visit the King of Italy. He aroused himself in a flash. With elastic stride he went from the hall-porter to the office, and from the office to the lift, and though Guste wailed that her head was turning, the trunks were made ready, and Diederich got Guste away. "Oh, why," she complained "must we leave a place where the bed is so comfortable?" But Diederich had only a mocking look for the odalisque as they left. "Have a good time, by dear young lady!"

For a long time he could not sleep from excitement. Guste snored peaceably on his shoulder while Diederich, as the train roared through the night, remembered how at that very moment, on another line, the Emperor himself was being carried by a train which roared similarly, towards the same goal. The Emperor and Diederich were having a race! And, as Diederich had more than once been privileged to utter thoughts which seemed in some mystic way to coincide with those of the All-Highest, perhaps at that hour His Majesty knew of Diederich, knew that his loyal servant was crossing the Alps by his side, in order to show these degenerate Latins what loyalty to king and country means. He glared at the sleepers on the opposite seat, small, dark people, whose faces seemed haggard in their sleep. They would see what Germanic valour was!

Passengers got out in the early morning at Milan, and at Florence, about noon, to Diederich's astonishment. Without any noticeable success he endeavoured to impress upon those who remained what a great event awaited them in Rome. Two Americans showed themselves somewhat more susceptible, at which Diederich exclaimed triumphantly: "Ah, I am sure you also envy us our Emperor." Then the Americans looked at one another in a mute and vain interrogation. Before they reached Rome Diederich's excitement was translated into a feverish desire to be up and doing. With his finger in a phrasebook he ran after the employes on the train, trying to find out who would arrive first, his Emperor or he. His enthusiasm had infected Guste. "Diedel!" she cried, "I feel like throwing my veil on the ground for him to walk on it and flinging the roses from my hat at him!"—"If he sees you and you make an impression on him?" asked Diederich, with a feverish smile. Guste's bosom began to heave and she dropped her eyes. Diederich, who was gasping, broke the fearful tension. "My manly honour is sacred, I must insist. But in such a case … and he concluded with a brief gesture.

The carriage had already disappeared along the streets hung with bunting, cheers could be heard in the distance, when Diederich heaved a great sigh and put on his hat.

Guste was beckoning to him frantically, and the people who were still standing around applauded, with looks of cheerful good nature. Even the soldiers who had previously followed him were now laughing. One of them showed his sympathy so far as to call a cab. As he drove off Diederich saluted the crowd. "They are like children," said his wife. "Yes, but correspondingly undisciplined," he added, and he admitted: "That could not have happened in Berlin. … When I think of the row Unter den Linden, order was much more sharply maintained." He tidied himself before they drove up to the hotel. Thanks to his manner, they were given a room on the second floor.

The early morning sun saw Diederich once more in the streets. "The Emperor is an early riser," he had informed Guste, who only grunted from the pillows. In any case she could not assist him in his task. Guiding himself with a plan of the city he arrived in front of the Quirinal, and took up his position. The quiet square gleamed bright gold under the oblique rays of the sun. Gaunt and massive the palace stood out against the empty sky—and opposite stood Diederich, awaiting His Majesty, the Order of the Crown, fourth class, on his protruding chest. A herd of goats tripped up the steps from the city, and disappeared behind the fountain and the statues of giant horse-breakers. Diederich did not look around. Two hours went by, more people began to pass, a sentry had come out of his box, in one of the portals a gatekeeper was moving about, and several persons went in and out. Diederich became uneasy. He approached the fagade, moved slowly up and down, peeping anxiously inside. On his third appearance the gatekeeper touched his hat hesitatingly. When Diederich stopped and returned his salute, he became more confidential. "Everything in order," he said behind his hand, and Diederich received the information with an air of understanding. It seemed to him only natural that he should be informed of the Emperor's welfare. His questions, when the Emperor would be going out and where, were answered without hesitation. The gatekeeper himself got the idea that, in order to accompany the Emperor, Diederich would need a carriage and he sent for one. Meanwhile a knot of curious onlookers had formed, and then the gatekeeper stepped to one side. Behind an outrider, in an open carriage came the blond ruler of the North, beneath his flashing eagle-helmet. Diederich's hat was in the air and he shouted in Italian, with the precision of a pistol shot: "Long live the Emperor!" And obligingly the knot of people shouted with him.

In a jump Diederich had got into his one-horse carriage, which stood ready, and was off in pursuit, urging the coachman with hoarse cries and an ample tip. Now he stops, for the royal carriage is only just coming up. When the Emperor gets out there is another little knot of people, and again Diederich shouts in Italian. … Watch must be kept in front of the house where the Emperor lingers! With chest extended and flashing eyes: let him beware who ventures to come too near! In ten minutes the little group re-forms, the carriage drives out through the gate, and Diederich: "Long live the Emperor!" and the shout is echoed by the crowd, as the company rushes wildly back to the Quirinal. Guard is mounted. The Emperor in a shako. The little crowd. Another visit, another return, another uniform, and again Diederich, and again an enthusiastic reception. So it went, and never had Diederich enjoyed himself so much before. His friend the gatekeeper kept him reliably informed as to the Emperor's movements. It also happened that an official would salute and give him a message which he condescendingly received, or that another would ask for instructions, which Diederich gave in general terms, but in a commanding tone. The sun rose higher and higher. In front of the marble squares of the façade, behind which his Emperor was holding conversations covering the whole orbit of the world, Diederich was suffering hunger and thirst without flinching. Although he held himself firmly erect, he felt, nevertheless, as if his paunch were sinking to the pavement under the burden of noon, and his Order of the Crown, fourth class, were melting on his breast. … The coachman, whose visits to the nearest tavern were becoming more frequent, finally was impressed by the German's heroic sense of duty and brought him back some wine. With a new fire in their veins the pair took part in the next race. The imperial horses ran quickly, in order to get there before them, it was necessary to plunge through side streets that looked like canals, and whose few pedestrians shrank back in terror against the walls. Or they had to get out and clamber madly up flights of steps. But Diederich was punctually at the head of his little crowd, watched for the seventh uniform emerging from the carriage, and shouted. Then the Emperor turned his head and smiled. He recognised him, his loyal subject! The one who shouted, who was always on the spot, like a devoted retainer. Diederich felt as if he were flying on the wings of elation because of the All Highest's attention. His eyes flashed at the people whose faces wore an expression of cheerful good nature.

Only when the gatekeeper assured him that His Majesty was now at lunch did Diederich allow himself to think of Guste. "What a sight you are!" she cried, drawing back against the wall, when she beheld him. He was as red as a tomato, soaked with perspiration, and his eyes were as bright and wild as those of a Germanic warrior of yore on a foray through the Latin territories. "This is a great day for the national cause!" he said furiously. "His Majesty and I are making moral conquests!" How fine he looked! Guste forgot her fright and her annoyance at the long wait. She came up with her arms affectionately outstretched and clung to him humbly.

Diederich, however, would hardly allow himself the brief hour for lunch. He knew that the Emperor rested after eating. Then it was his duty to mount guard under his windows with out shirking. He did not shirk his duty, and the result showed how well he had done. He had not been eighty minutes at his post opposite the portal of the palace, when a suspicious looking individual, profiting by the brief absence of the gatekeeper, slipped in, hid behind a pillar, and in the dark shadow concealed plans which could not be otherwise than dangerous. This was Diederich's opportunity! With a warlike cry he could be seen thundering across the square like a storm. Startled people rushed after him, the guard hurried up, in the gateway servants were running about—and every one admired Diederich as he dragged some man forward, wildly struggling, who had hidden himself. The pair fought so fiercely that the armed guards did not even dare to approach. Suddenly Diederich's opponent, who had succeeded in freeing his right arm, was seen swinging a box. A breathless second—then the panic-stricken crowd rushed yelling to the gate. A bomb! He is going to throw it! … He had thrown it! In expectation of the explosion those nearest, threw themselves on the ground, moaning in advance. But Diederich, his face, shoulders and chest all white, stood there and sneezed. There was a strong smell of peppermint. The boldest returned and tested it with their sense of smell. A soldier, with waving plumes, gingerly dipped his moistened finger into it, and tasted it. Diederich grasped the situation and explained it to the crowd, whose expression of cheerful good humour returned, for he himself was no longer in doubt for some moments past that he was covered with tooth-powder. The bomb-thrower—absolutely in vain—tried to get past him and escape. Diederich's iron fist delivered him to the police. The latter ascertained that the man was a German, and asked Diederich to question him. In spite of the tooth-powder which covered him, he undertook this duty with the utmost dignity. The answers of the man, who, significantly enough, was an artist, had no particular political colour, but their abysmal lack of respect and moral sense betrayed only too clearly revolutionary tendencies. Therefore Diederich strongly urged that he should be arrested. The police led him off, and they did not forget to salute Diederich, who had only just time to get brushed by his friend the gatekeeper. For the Emperor was announced, and Diederich's personal service began again.

The following evening at the gala performance at the theatre the Emperor looked more serious than usual. Diederich noticed it, and said to Guste: "Now I know why I spent our good money coming here. Just watch, this will be an historic occasion!" His premonition did not deceive him. The evening papers spread round the theatre, and it was learned that the Emperor was going away that night, that he had dissolved the Reichstag. Diederich, no less serious than the Emperor, explained the significance of the event to every one near him. The revolutionaries had dared to vote against the Army Bill. The patriotic parties were entering upon a life and death struggle for their Emperor! He himself was returning home by the next train, he assured them, and they hastened to tell him at what hour it left.

… The person who was dissatisfied was Guste. "When one gets somewhere else, at last, and thank God, one has the money and can afford it, why should I, after moping for two days in the hotel, start back at once, just because—" She threw a glance of such disgust at the royal box that Diederich had to intervene with the utmost severity. Guste answered loudly, every one around them cried "sh!" and when Diederich turned round to glare at the objectors, they compelled him and Guste to leave, long before the train started. "That rabble has no manners," he remarked, snorting furiously, when they got outside. "Anyhow, what's the good of this place, I'd like to know. The weather is all right, I suppose … but just look at all that old junk about the place!" he insisted. Guste, who was once more pacified, said complainingly: "but I enjoy it." Then they departed at a respectful distance behind the Emperor's train. Guste had forgotten her sponge and brushes in their haste and at every station she wanted to get out. Diederich had to remind her ceaselessly of the national cause, in order to induce her to wait for thirty-six hours. When they finally arrived in Netzig, however, her first thought was for the sponge. Of course they had arrived on a Sunday! Fortunately, the apothecary's shop, at least, was open. While Diederich was waiting in the station for the luggage Guste went over to it. As she did not return, he went after her.

The door of the apothecary's was half open, and three youths were peeping in and laughing. Diederich looked over their shoulders and was amazed, for inside his old college friend, Gottlieb Hornung, was marching up and down behind the counter, with folded arms and gloomy countenance. Guste was just saying: "Now I'd really like to know when I am going to get my tooth-brush." Then Gottlieb Hornung stepped forward from behind the counter, with arms still crossed, and turned his melancholy gaze upon Guste. "You cannot fail," he began oratorically, "to have noticed by my expression that I have neither the will nor the power to sell you a tooth brush." Guste drew back and said: "Really! But you have a whole showcase full." Gottlieb Hornung's smile was Mephistophelian. "My uncle upstairs"—he jerked up his head and pointed with his chin to the ceiling, above which his employer doubtless resided—"my uncle can huckster here as he likes. That does not concern me. I did not study for three years and belong to a swagger corps in order to come here and sell tooth-brushes."—"What are you here for, then?" asked Guste visibly impressed. Then Hornung replied with majestic emphasis: "I am here to attend exclusively to prescriptions!" Guste must have felt that she was beaten, for she turned to go. Then something else occurred to her: "I suppose it is the same with sponges?"—"Just the same," Hornung assured her. This was obviously what Guste had been waiting for, to lose her temper properly. She stuck out her chest and was going to give him a piece of her mind. Diederich had just time to intervene. He agreed with his friend that the dignity of the Neo-Teutons should be preserved and their banner held aloft. But if any one wanted a sponge he could, after all, take it himself and deposit the amount—which Diederich proceeded to do. Gottlieb Hornung, meanwhile, moved to one side and began to whistle, as if he were quite alone. Then Diederich expressed his interest in what his friend had been doing since they last met. Unfortunately, it was a story of many mishaps, for, as Hornung could never sell sponges and tooth-brushes, he had already been dismissed by five apothecaries. Nevertheless he was determined to stand by his convictions, at the risk of also losing his present situation. "There you can see a real Neo-Teuton!" said Diederich to Guste, who had a good look at him.

In his turn Diederich was not slow to relate all his experiences and achievements. He drew attention to his decoration, turned Guste round in front of Hornung, and named the amount of her fortune. The Emperor, whose enemies and slanderers were behind lock and key, thanks to Diederich, had recently escaped grave personal danger in Rome, also thanks to Diederich. In order to avoid a panic in the courts of Europe and on the stock exchange, the press had spoken only of a silly trick played by a half-wit, "but between ourselves, I have reason to believe that it was a widespread plot. You will understand, Hornung, that the national interest commands the utmost discretion, for I am sure you, too, are a loyal patriot." Of course, Hornung was, and so Diederich could unburden himself about the highly important task which had compelled him suddenly to return from his honeymoon. It was a question of pushing through the national candidates in Netzig. They must not underestimate the difficulties. Netzig was a stronghold of Liberalism, and revolution was undermining the foundations. … At this stage Guste threatened to drive off home with the luggage. Diederich could only invite his friend urgently to come to see him that very evening, as he had pressing matters to talk over with him. As he got into the cab he saw one of the young rascals, who had waited outside, going into the shop and asking for a tooth brush. Diederich reflected that Gottlieb Hornung, just because of the aristocratic tendency which so sadly interfered with the sale of sponges and tooth-brushes, might be an invaluable ally in the fight against democracy. But this was the least of his immediate cares. He only gave old Frau Hessling an opportunity of shedding a few hasty tears; then she had to return to the top floor, formerly reserved for the servant and the washing, where Diederich had now dumped his mother and Emma. Without waiting to remove the dust of his journey he betook himself by devious ways to Governor von Wulckow's. Then with no less discretion he sent for Napoleon Fischer, and meanwhile took steps to arrange without delay a meeting with Kunze, Kühnchen and Zillich.

This was rendered more difficult because it was a Sunday afternoon. The major could be dragged only with the greatest difficulty from his game of nine-pins. The pastor had to be interrupted as he was preparing to go out on a family excursion with Käthchen and Jadassohn. The professor was in the hands of his two boarders, who had already got him half drunk. Finally he succeeded in getting them all into the club-room of the Veterans' Association, and Diederich explained to them, without further loss of time, that they would have to run a national candidate. And, as things were, there could be no question of any one but Major Kunze. "Hear! Hear!" cried Kühnchen, at once, but the major's expression threatened a storm. Did they take him for a fool? he snarled. Did they think he was anxious to put his foot in it? "A national candidate in Netzig—I have no doubts as to what will happen to him! If everything else were as certain as his defeat!" Diederich would not hear of this. "We have the Veterans' Association, you must take that into account, gentlemen. The Veterans' Association is an invaluable basis of operations. From that point we can hit out in a straight line, so to speak, to the Emperor William Monument: there the battle will be won." "Hurrah!" cried Kühnchen again, but the other two wanted to know what was this business with the monument. Diederich initiated them into his idea, but preferred to gloss over the fact that it was the subject of a compact between himself and Napoleon Fischer. The Liberal Infant Asylum was not popular, so much he confided, and many voters would be drawn to the national cause, if they were promised an Emperor William Monument out of the Kühlemann bequest. In the first place, this would create more employment, and then it would bring business to the town, for the unveiling of such a monument drew people from far and wide. Netzig had a prospect of losing its bad reputation as a democratic hole and to bask in the sunshine of official favour. At this Diederich remembered his agreement with Wulckow, which he also preferred to leave unmentioned. "To the man who achieved and secured so much for us all"—he pointed enthusiastically to Kunze—"our dear old town will one day certainly erect a monument. He and Emperor William the Great will face one an other—" "And stick out our tongues," concluded the major, whose scepticism was unshaken. "If you believe that the people of Netzig are only waiting for the great man to lead them, with bands playing, into the national camp, why do you not play the part of that great man yourself?" And his eyes looked squarely into Diederich's. But the latter only returned his gaze all the more virtuously and laid his hand on his heart! "Major, my well-known devotion to King and country has already imposed upon me trials more severe than a candidature to the Reichstag, and I think I may say, I have stood the test! And in so doing I was not afraid, as a pioneer in a good cause, to draw upon myself all the hatred of ill-disposed people, thereby making it impossible for me to reap myself the fruit of my sacrifice. Netzig would not vote for me, but it will vote for my cause. Therefore, I withdraw, for it is characteristic of a German to be practical, and I leave to you, Major, without envy, the joys and the honour!" General sensation! There were tears in Kühnchen's cheer, the pastor nodded solemnly, and Kunze stared at the ground, obviously shaken. Diederich felt relieved and virtuous; he had allowed his heart to speak and it had expressed loyalty, sacrifice and manly idealism. Diederich's hand, covered with fair hairs, was extended across the table and the major's, with its dark hairs, clasped his, hesitatingly yet warmly.

Now that the hearts of all four had spoken, reason again became articulate. The major inquired whether Diederich was prepared to compensate him for the material and spiritual losses that threatened him, in case he entered the lists against the candidate of the Liberal gang and was defeated. "Look here"—he pointed his finger at Diederich, who could not immediately find words to counter this directness—"the national cause does not seem to you as certain as all that, and as I know you, Dr. Hessling, the fact that you insist on bringing me into it is connected with some chicanery or other on your part, which a bluff old soldier like myself cannot, thank God, understand." Hereupon Diederich hastened to promise the bluff old soldier a decoration, and as he gave a hint of his understanding with Wulckow, the national candidate was finally won over completely. … Meanwhile Pastor Zillich had been debating whether his position in the town would permit of his being chairman of the national election committee. Was he to introduce dissensions among his flock? His own brother-in-law, Heuteufel, was the Liberal candidate! Of course, if a church were to be built instead of a monument! "Truly, the house of God is more necessary than ever, and my beloved St. Mary's is so neglected by the town that one of these days it will fall down about the ears of myself and my congregation." Without hesitation, Diederich guaranteed all the necessary repairs. The only condition he made was that the pastor should keep out of confidential positions in the new party all those who had aroused just doubts, by certain external evidence, as to the genuineness of their national sentiments. "Without wishing to interfere in family matters," Diederich added, looking hard at Käthchen's father, who had clearly understood, for he did not breathe a sound. … But Kühnchen who had long since ceased to shout hurrah, also presented himself. The two others had only kept him in his seat by force, while they were speaking. They had scarcely released him when he noisily assumed the centre of the debate. Where would national sentiment have its roots, above all? Amongst the youth? But how could that be, when the headmaster of the college was a friend of Herr Buck's? "I could talk myself hoarse about our glorious deeds in the year '70. …" Enough: Kühnchen wanted to be appointed headmaster, and Diederich magnanimously granted his request.

In due course the preparations had been made which the national committee considered necessary for the first election meeting of the "Emperor's Party." It was to take place at Klappsch's, who had patriotically thrown open his room. In the midst of green wreaths flaming mottoes were set. "The Will of the King is the Supreme Command." "You have only one Enemy, and He is Mine." "Leave the Social Democrats to Me." "Mine is the Right Course." "Citizens, awake from your Slumbers." Klappsch and his daughter saw to it that they were aroused by keeping them all constantly supplied with fresh beer, without being as particular as usual about the amount each one consumed. Thus, they were in a good mood to receive Kunze, when he was introduced by the chair man, Pastor Zillich. From behind the cloud of smoke in which the committee sat, Diederich, however, made the unpleasant discovery that Heuteufel, Cohn and some of their followers, had also gained admission. He took Gottlieb Hornung to task, for the latter was in charge of the arrangements. But he would not listen; he was irritated, the labour of bringing the people together had been too much.