The Patrioteer/Chapter 6

by Heinrich Mann

VI

 

Here and Frau Dr. Hessling from Netzig looked at one an other in the lift of the hotel in Zurich, for they were being taken up to the fourth floor. This was the result of the glance of quick, discreet appraisal which the clerk at the desk had given them. Diederich obediently filled up the form for visitors, but when the waiter had withdrawn, he relieved his feelings about the way things were done here, and about Zurich in general. His indignation increased more and more, and finally took shape in the resolve to write to Baedeker. As this relief meanwhile seemed a little too remote, he turned on Guste. It was all the fault of her hat. Guste, in her turn, blamed his German military cape. Thus they descended to lunch, both red with anger. At the door they stopped, and sniffed superciliously as they met the gaze of the hotel guests, Diederich in his dinner jacket, and Guste wearing a hat whose ribbons, feathers and buckle combined, certainly entitled her to the best floor in the hotel. Their earlier acquaintance, the waiter, conducted them in triumph to their seats.

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.

Then they arrived, but very differently from what they had imagined. In the greatest confusion the passengers were pushed by officials out of the station, over to the edge of a broad square and into the streets behind it, which were immediately closed off again. With unshakable enthusiasm Diederich broke through the barriers. Guste, who stretched out her arm in horror, was left standing there with all the hand-luggage, while he stormed blindly forward. He had got as far as the middle of the square, and two soldiers with plumed helmets were running after him so that the tails of their gaily-coloured dress tunics flapped in the breeze. Then several gentlemen walked down the sloping entrance to the station, and almost simultaneously Diederich saw a carriage driving towards him. He waved his hat and bawled so loudly that the gentlemen in the carriage interrupted their conversation. The one on the right leaned forward and—they were face to face, Diederich and his Emperor! The Emperor smiled coldly and critically, and the lines of his mouth relaxed slightly. Diederich ran along beside the carriage for a while, his eyes staring wildly, shouting continuously and waving his hat. For a few seconds, while the foreign crowd in the background applauded, the Emperor and his loyal subject were alone together, in the middle of the empty square, beneath the glaring blue sky.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" said Emma.

"Why, certainly!" Beaming with triumph Guste told her the whole story. "The lieutenant will soon follow them. He has been transferred." She paused, and looked up. "He has had himself transferred." "You're a liar!" cried Emma. She had swayed and was visibly holding herself erect. With her head high she turned and let the curtain fall behind her. There was silence in the room. Old Frau Hessling on the sofa folded her hands, Guste looked defiantly at Diederich, who rushed up and down fuming. When he reached the door again he gave a start. Through the opening he caught a glimpse of Emma who was sitting, or rather hanging, huddled up in a chair, as if she had been tied up and thrown there. She quivered, then turned her face towards the lamp. Just before it had been quite pale and it was now deep red. She was looking with unseen eyes. Suddenly she sprang up, rushed off as if she were on fire, and with angry, uncertain steps she dashed out, knocking against things without feeling them, out as if into a mist, into a fog. … With increasing anxiety Diederich turned to his wife and his mother. As Guste seemed disposed to be disrespectful he pulled himself together, with his accustomed good form, and marched stiffly after Emma.

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

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

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

Suddenly she looked at him. "And I?"

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

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

"Your word of honour!"

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

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

"It is true," said Emma.

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

"That is also possible," said Emma.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Swear that you will not challenge him!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The lieutenant, who had caused all this, lost notably in comparison—and so did the Power, in whose name he had triumphed. Diederich discovered that Power could sometimes present a common and vulgar appearance, Power and everything that went with it, success, honour, loyalty. He looked at Emma and was forced to question the value of what he had attained or was still striving for; Guste and her money, the monument, the favour of the authorities, Gausenfeld, distinctions and high office. He looked at Emma and thought of Agnes. Agnes had cultivated tenderness and love in him, she had been the true thing in his life, he should have held it fast. Where was she now? Dead? Sometimes he used to sit, holding his head in his hands. What had he now? What were the rewards in the service of Power? Once more everything failed him, every one betrayed him, distorted his purest intentions, and old Buck was master of the situation. Agnes, who could only suffer—the thought insinuated itself, that she had won. He wrote to Berlin and made inquiries about her. She was married and in good health. This relieved him, but somehow, it also disappointed him.

 

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

"So did we," declared Diederich.

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

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

Diederich found himself in bed and completely at the mercy of his political opponent. He tried to soothe him. "I know, Fischer, you are a great politician. You will certainly get into the Reichstag."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Quite right!"

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

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

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

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

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

The old man spread out his arms and nerved himself for the final cry of his conscience.

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

"No!"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Name! Name!"

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

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

"Aha! He admits it!"—and suddenly there broke loose such an uproar that Cohn, who anticipated nothing, jumped backwards. The room was filled with noise and gesticulation. Here and there opponents were falling upon one another. "Hurra!" screamed Kühnchen as he rushed through the crowd, with streaming hair, swinging his fists and egging on the fight. … On the platform also every one had jumped up, except the police officer. Old Buck had left the chairman's seat, and with his back to the people, on whose deaf ears the last cry of his conscience had fallen, he turned away his eyes so that nobody could see he was weeping, forsaken and alone. Heuteufel spoke indignantly to the police officer, who did not move from his chair, but was told that the police alone decided if and when the meeting should be stopped. There was no necessity to do so just when the Liberals were getting the worst of it. Then Heuteufel went to the table and rang the bell, shouting, as he did so: "The second name!" And as every one on the platform joined in the cry, it was finally audible, and Heuteufel could continue.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Fates pursued their course, and if in many cases they encountered difficulties, it was all the more pleasant to find them running smoothly in one's own case. Diederich fully realised this on the day Napoleon Fischer left for Berlin to vote against the Army Bill. The Socialist paper had announced a monster demonstration, and the station was to be occupied by the police. It was the duty of every loyal citizen to be present. Diederich ran into Jadassohn en route. They greeted one another formally as befitted the coolness which had sprung up between them. "Are you also going to have a look at the show?" asked Diederich.

"I am going on a holiday—to Paris." As a matter of fact Jadassohn was wearing knickerbockers. "If only to avoid the political imbecilities which have been going on here," he added.

Diederich resolved to ignore loftily the spite of a man who had had no success. "It has been said that you were now going to settle down."

"I? Why so?"

"Isn't Fräulein Zillich away at her aunt's?"

"Her aunt's is good!" Jadassohn grinned. "And people thought … I suppose you did, too?"

"Leave me out of it." Diederich looked very knowing. "But why is her aunt's good? Where has she gone, then?"

"Kicked over the traces," said Jadassohn. Then Diederich stood still and gasped. Käthchen Zillich had run away! In what adventures he might have been involved! … Jadassohn spoke as a man of the world.

"Yes, she's gone to Berlin. Her fond parents ?.re still in ignorance. I have no quarrel with her, you understand; there had to be a crash, sooner or later."

"In one way or another," Diederich added, having recovered himself.

"I prefer this way to any other," Jadassohn declared. To which Diederich replied in a confidential whisper: "I don't mind telling you now that it always looked as if that girl was rather sweet on you."

Jadassohn denied it, but not without a touch of amourpropre. "What do you take me for? I myself gave her letters of introduction. Just you wait. She will be a big success in Berlin."

"I do not doubt it." Diederich winked. "I know her good points. … You certainly thought I was very innocent." He would not listen to Jadassohn's defence. "You thought me very innocent, but at the same time I put a damned big spoke in your wheel, I can tell you." He gave the other, who was becoming more and more uneasy, an account of an adventure he had with Käthchen at the Harmony Club dance—an account which was much more detailed than the facts warranted. With a smile of satisfied vengeance he watched Jadassohn, who was obviously in doubt as to whether his honour were not involved. Finally he decided to slap Diederich on the shoulder, and in the friendliest manner they drew the obvious conclusions. "Of course, the matter is strictly between ourselves. … Such a girl must be judged fairly, for where would the better demi-monde get recruits. … Her address? Well, as a favour to you. If you happen to be in Berlin, then you know where you are." "It would even have a certain charm," Diederich said reflectively. And as Jadassohn espied his luggage, they said good-bye. "We have unfortunately been rather separated in politics, but, thank God, we can come to gether in human affairs. Have a good time in Paris."

"It is not a pleasure trip." Jadassohn turned round, with an expression as if he were about to trap a witness. When he saw how disturbed Diederich looked he came back. "In four weeks you will see it for yourself," he said with remark able solemnity. "Perhaps it would be better if you were now to prepare the public." Impressed, in spite of himself, Diederich asked: "What do you propose to do?" Jadassohn answered very seriously and with a smile of resigned determination: "I am about to adapt my outward appearance more appropriately to my patriotic convictions. … When Diederich grasped the significance of these words, he could only incline his head respectfully. Jadassohn had already gone. In the background as he entered the station, his ears glowed once more—for the last time!—like two church windows in the light of the setting sun.

A group of men was approaching the station, a banner flying in their midst. A few policemen came heavily down the steps and faced them. Immediately the group began to sing the International. At the same time their advance was successfully repelled by the representatives of law and order. Some, it is true, got through and crowded around Napoleon Fischer, whose arms were so long that he seemed to drag his carpet bag almost along the ground. The men were recovering themselves in the refreshment room after their exertions in the July sun on behalf of the revolution. As the train was late Napoleon Fischer tried to make a speech on the platform, but the parliamentary representative was forbidden to do so by a policeman. Napoleon put down his carpet bag and bared his teeth. As Diederich knew him, he was evidently on the point of resisting the power of the State. Fortunately for him the train drew up. Only then Diederich noticed a lowsized gentleman, who turned away whenever people passed near him. He was holding a large bouquet in front of him and looking in the direction of the train. Those shoulders seemed familiar to Diederich. … That was the devil himself! Judith Lauer nodded from a carriage, her husband helped her out, and actually handed her the bouquet, which she accepted with that serious smile of hers. As the pair turned towards the exit, Diederich hastened, fuming, to get out of their way. The devil had nothing to do with it. Lauer's term was up simply; he was a free man once more. Not that there was anything further to fear from him, but one would have to become accustomed again to the thought that he was at large. … And he received her with flowers! Did he not know anything? Surely he had had time to reflect. And she returned to him after he had served his sentence! There were situations of which no decent men would even dream. In any case, the matter did not concern Diederich any more than every one else. He had only done his duty on that occasion. "Everybody will be as painfully affected as myself. Everywhere they will give him to understand that he had better remain quiet. … He has made his bed and must lie on it." Käthchen Zillich had understood that and drawn the right conclusion. What was right in her case applied to others, and not only to Herr Lauer.

Diederich himself, who walked through the town to the accompaniment of respectful greetings, now assumed in the most natural way the position to which his services had entitled him. During those strenuous times he had fought his way through so hard that it now only remained for him to reap his reward. Others had begun to believe in him, and forthwith his own doubts vanished. … Lately there had been unfavourable rumours about Gausenfeld, and the shares fell. How had people heard that the government had withdrawn its contracts and entrusted them to Hessling's firm? Diederich had not breathed a word about it, but it became known even before the dismissal of the workmen, which the "Netzig Journal" regretted so deeply. Old Buck, as chairman of the board of directors, had to take personal action, which injured him generally. Presumably it was only because of old Buck that the government was acting so harshly. It had been a mistake to elect him chairman. In any case, he should have paid his debts with the money Hessling had so decently given him, instead of buying Gausenfeld shares. Diederich himself repeatedly expressed this opinion. "Who ever would have believed it once upon a time," he remarked again in this connection; and again he thoughtfully contemplated his fate. "It is easily seen what a man is capable of when he feels the ground slipping from beneath his feet." This gave everybody the unpleasant impression that old Buck would drag them down, as shareholders, in his own ruin. For the shares were falling. As a result of the dismissals, a strike was threatened, and they fell still further. … At this juncture Kienast made a number of friends. Kienast had arrived unexpectedly in Netzig, for a rest, as he said. Nobody liked admitting that they had Gausenfeld shares and had been taken in. Kienast told one that the other had already sold out. His personal opinion was that it was high time to do so. A broker, whom he did not know, by the way, came into the cafes from time to time and bought stock. Some months later the newspaper published a daily advertisement of the banking house of Sanft and Co. Any one who still had Gausenfeld shares could unload them here without any trouble. As a matter of fact at the beginning of the autumn not a soul held any more of those rotten stocks. But there was talk of an amalgamation of Hessling and Gausenfeld. Diederich professed to be amazed. "What about old Herr Buck?" he asked. "As chairman of the board of directors he will certainly have something to say in the matter. Or has he also sold out?" Then it was said: "He has more troubles," for his action for libel against the socialist paper had now come up for hearing. "He will probably lose," people said, and Diederich, with perfect impartiality: "It is a pity. In that case he will never sit on another board of directors."

With this idea every one went to the trial. The witnesses who appeared could remember nothing. Klusing had long since spoken to every one about the sale of the factory. Did he specially mention the site? And had he mentioned old Buck as the go-between? All this remained doubtful. In municipal circles it was known that the site was under discussion for the then projected Infant Asylum. Had Buck been in favour of it? Certainly, he had not opposed it. Several people had been struck by his lively interest in that site. Klusing himself, who was still ill, had declared in his affidavit that his friend Buck had been in and out a good deal a short while before. If Buck had spoken to him about an option on the ground he had certainly not understood it in any sense detrimental to Buck's honour. … The plaintiff, Buck, wished to establish the fact that it was the late Kühlemann who had negotiated with Klüsing: Kühlemann himself, the donor of the money, but the point was not proven. In this also Klüsing's testimony was indecisive. That Cohn said so was immaterial, as Cohn was interested in proving that his own visit to Gausenfeld was innocent. Diederich remained as the most important witness. Klüsing had written to him and immediately afterwards had had a conversation with him. Was any name mentioned on that occasion? Diederich testified:

"I had no wish to learn one name or another. I declare, as all the witnesses can confirm, that I have never publicly mentioned the name of Herr Buck. My sole interest in the matter was that of the town, which must not be injured by the actions of individuals. I intervened on behalf of political morality: I bear no personal malice whatever, and I should be sorry if the plaintiff did not leave this court without a stain on his character."

A murmur of approval greeted his words. Only Buck seemed dissatisfied. He jumped up, red in the face … Diederich was now asked for his personal view of the matter. He was preparing to speak, when old Buck stepped forward, holding himself erect, and his eyes flashing as they did at that fateful election meeting.

"I forbid this witness to give a favourable testimony to myself and my life. He is not qualified to do so. His success has been attained by methods very different from mine, and they have a very different aim. My house was always open and free to every one, including the witness. For more than fifty years my life has not been my own, it has been devoted to one idea, which was shared by many in my time, to justice and the common welfare. I was well off when I entered public life; when I leave it I shall be poor. I need no defence."

He was silent and his face trembled—but Diederich merely shrugged his shoulders. On what success was the old man counting? He had long since failed, and now he was spinning sonorous phrases, which inspired no confidence. He pretended to be superior, but he was already in the dust. How could a man so misunderstand his position? "If one of us is to condescend to the other"—Diederich glared. The old man flamed up in vain, he simply glared him down, and with him justice and the common welfare. Every man for himself—and what ever succeeded was right! … He felt clearly that this was definitely true. The old man felt it also; he sat down, his shoulders hunched, and in his face there was a look of some thing like shame. Turning to the magistrates he said: "I do not claim any privileged position. I submit to the judgment of my fellow-citizens."

As if nothing had happened, Diederich continued his testimony. It was really very favourable and made an excellent impression. Since the Lauer trial people found him changed for the better, he had acquired a quiet superiority, which was, after all, nothing wonderful, for he was now a man of some importance and dignity. It was just striking midday when the latest news from the "Netzig Journal" spread through the courtroom. It was a fact, Hessling was the largest shareholder in Gausenfeld and had been made general director of the company. … The crowd gazed at him with great curiosity, and contrasted him with old Buck, at whose expense he had prospered. He now got back with a hundred per cent, interest the last twenty thousand which he had lent the old man, and yet retained his reputation for virtue. That the latter should have invested the money in Gausenfeld precisely, was regarded as a good joke on Hessling's part, and was a momentary consolation to many for their own losses. When Diederich left he did so amidst a respectful silence. He was greeted with that degree of respect which is almost servility. The cheated were saluting success.

They were by no means so lenient with old Buck. When the presiding magistrate pronounced the verdict, there was applause. The newspaper was fined only fifty marks! The case was not proven and the plea of good faith was admitted. The legal view was that this was damning to the plaintiff, and as Buck left the courthouse even his friends cut him. Humble folks, who had lost their savings in Gausenfeld, shook their fists after him. This verdict convinced them all that they had long since formed their own opinion of old Buck. A deal like that of the site for the Infant Asylum ought, at least, to be successful; the utterance was Diederich's, and it fitted the case. But that was just it. All his life nothing had ever succeeded with old Buck. He thought himself a wonder because as a city father and party leader he was retiring in debt. There were plenty of other good-for-nothing customers. His questionable business capacity had its counterpart in morals, the proof of which was that still unexplained story of the engagement of his son, who was now hanging around the theatre. And Buck's politics? An international standpoint, always demanding sacrifices for demagogic purposes, and on the worst terms with the government, which in its turn, had a bad effect on business. That was the policy of a man who had nothing more to lose, and is destitute of a good citizen's sense of responsibility in regard to investments. With indignation people recognised that they had delivered themselves entirely into the hands of an adventurer. There was a general, heart felt desire to prevent him from doing further harm. As he himself did not draw the obvious conclusion from the damaging verdict, it became necessary for others to drive it home. The right to hold administrative office must surely be conditioned by the provision that a public official must prove him self worthy of the dignity demanded by his position, by his conduct both in and out of office. Did old Buck fulfil this condition? To ask the question was to answer it, as the "Netzig Journal" observed, of course, without mentioning names.

But things had reached such a point that the matter was brought to the attention of the Municipal Council. Then in the end, one day before the discussion, the obstinate old man became reasonable and resigned his position as town councillor. After that his political friends could not risk losing their remaining supporters by retaining him as the leader of the party. It appeared that he did not make their task any easier. Several visits and some gentle pressure were necessary before a letter appeared in the press, saying that he placed the welfare of democracy above his own. As the former was threatened with harm, through his name, owing to the influence of passions which he hoped were only temporary, he would retire. "If the general good demands it, I am prepared to bear the unjustified slur which a deceived public opinion has put upon me, in the belief that the eternal justice of people will one day absolve me again."

This was regarded as superiority and hypocrisy. Wellwishers excused it on the ground of old age. In any case what he wrote or did not write was of no consequence, for what was he now? People who were under obligations to him looked him in the face without raising their hats, many laughed and made audible remarks. There were people who had never had to deal with him, but who were, nevertheless, very respectful as long as he enjoyed general esteem. Instead of the old friends whom he never encountered on his daily walk, new and strange friends appeared. They met him as he was returning home, when twilight was coming on; sometimes it was a small tradesman with haggard eyes, threatened with bankruptcy; at others a furtive drunkard or some shadowy figure slinking along by the walls of the houses. They would slow up and look at him with shy or bold confidence. They lifted their hats, no doubt reluctantly, and then old Buck would nod to them, shaking the hand extended towards him, no matter whose it might be.

As time went on people even ceased to hate him. Those who had purposely cut him now passed him indifferently, and sometimes he would salute again out of old habit. Fathers with their young sons looked serious, and when they had passed him, they would explain to their children: "Did you see that old gentleman creeping all alone and looking at nobody? Remember all your life what disgrace can do to a man." Hence forward at the sight of old Buck the children were seized with a mysterious thrill of horror, just as the older generation, when it was young, had a feeling of instinctive pride on seeing him. There were, it is true, young people who did not follow the prevailing opinion. Sometimes, as the old man left the house, school was just over. The rising generation would trot off in droves, stepping respectfully aside to make room for their teachers; and Kühnchen, now a thorough-going patriot, or Pastor Zillich, more moral than ever since Käthchen's misfortune, would hurry on, without even a glance at the man in disgrace. Then these few youngsters would stop on the road, each for himself, and apparently of his own initiative. Their brows were not so smooth as most; they had expression in their eyes when they turned their backs on Kühnchen and Zillich and took off their caps to old Buck. Involuntarily he would stop and gaze into these faces pregnant with the future, inspired once more by the hope with which, all his life long, he had looked into the face of every fellow-creature.

In the meantime Diederich had really little time to pay attention to the minor accompaniments of his progress. The "Netzig Journal," now unreservedly at Diederich's disposal, established the fact that it was Herr Buck himself who, prior to his resignation as chairman of the board of directors, had to propose the appointment of Dr. Hessling as general director. The fact seemed rather peculiar to many people. But Rothsgroschen drew attention to Dr. Hessling's great and undeniable services to the community in that capacity. But for him, who had quietly acquired more than half the shares, they would certainly have fallen still more, and a great many families had only Dr. Hessling to thank if they were saved from ruin. The strike had been prevented by the energetic action of the new chairman. His loyalty to King and country was a guarantee that for the future the sun of governmental approval would never set on Gausenfeld. In brief, glorious days were dawning for the industrial life of Netzig, and especially for the paper industry—the more so, as the rumour of an amalgamation of Hessling's business and Gausenfeld proved to be true. Rothgroschen was able to state that only on this condition could Dr. Hessling be prevailed upon to take charge of Gausenfeld.

As a matter of fact Diederich lost no time in increasing the share capital. The Hessling factory was put in as new capital. Diederich did an excellent stroke of business. Success had crowned his first deal with the government. He was master of the situation, with his docile board of directors, and could proceed to impress his commanding personality upon the internal organisation of the business. At the outset he assembled the entire staff of workers and employes. "Some of you," he said, "already know me from the Hessling factory. Well, the rest of you will soon know me better! Whoever is prepared to co-operate with me is welcome, but I will stand no radicalism! Barely two years ago I said that to a few of you, and now you can see how many I have under my orders. You may be proud to have such a master! You can rely upon me, I will undertake the responsibility of arousing you to a sense of patriotism, and of making you faithful supporters of the existing order." He promised them dwellings, sick relief and cheaper necessities of life. "But I forbid socialistic agitation! In the future you can vote as I tell you, or leave!" Diederich also said that he was determined to curb irreligion. He would note every Sunday who went to church and who did not. "So long as the world is unredeemed from sin, there will be war and hatred, envy and discord. Therefore, there must be one master!"

In order to enforce this fundamental principle every room in the factory was adorned with inscriptions to drive it home: No thoroughfare! It is strictly prohibited to fetch water in the buckets for use in case of fire! They were not allowed to send out for bottles of beer, for Diederich had not failed to make a contract with a brewery which ensured him a profit on what his employes consumed. … Eating, sleeping, smoking, children, "Courting, flirting, lovemaking, in fact, every vice," was strictly prohibited! In the workmen's dwellings, even before they were built, foster-children were forbidden. An unmarried couple living together, who had evaded detection for ten years under Klusing, were solemnly dismissed. This occurrence even inspired Diederich to invent a new means of raising the moral tone of the people. In the appropriate places he had paper hung up, which was manufactured in Gausenfeld itself, and nobody could use it without noticing the moral and patriotic maxims with which it was adorned. At times he would hear the men shouting some august saying which they had learnt in this fashion, or singing a patriotic song which had been impressed upon their memory on a like occasion. Encouraged by this success Diederich put his invention on the market. It appeared under the name of "World Power," and, as a grandiloquent advertisement announced, it carried the German spirit, stqjported by German workmanship, in triumph all over the world.

Even this educational toilet-paper could not remove all possibility of conflict between master and men. One day Diederich was compelled to issue a warning that he would pay only for dental treatment, but not for new teeth, out of the insurance fund. One man had had an entire set made. As Diederich insisted upon his warning, which was issued after the event, the man sued him, and by some miracle won his case. His faith in the existing order thereby shaken, he became an agitator, his morals declined, and he would certainly have been dismissed under normal circumstances. But Diederich could not bring himself to abandon the set of teeth, which had cost him so much. Therefore he retained the man. … He did not conceal from himself that the whole business was most injurious to the spirit of the working classes. Added to this came the influence of dangerous political events. When several Social Democrats in the newly opened Reichstag building remained seated while cheers for the Emperor were called, there was no longer any doubt that the necessity for antirevolutionary legislation was established. Diederich publicly advocated the idea, and prepared his employes for it in an address which was received in gloomy silence. The majority in the Reichstag was so unprincipled as to defeat the measure, and the result was not long in making itself known; an industrial magnate was murdered. Murdered! An industrial magnate! The assassin declared he was not a Social Democrat, but Diederich knew what that meant from his own work people. The murdered man was supposed to have been well disposed towards the workers, but Diederich knew #hat that meant from his own experience. For days and weeks he never opened a door without the fear that a drawn dagger was behind it. His office was fitted with automatic locks, and in Guste's company he crawled every evening around the bedroom and made a search. His telegrams to the Emperor, whether emanating from the Town Council, the committee of the "Emperor's Party," the Employers' Association, or the Veterans' Association, the telegrams with which Diederich bombarded the All-Highest shouted for help against the revolutionary movement, fanned by the Socialists, which had claimed another victim; for relief from this pest; for immediate legal action and military protection for authority and property; for the imprisonment of strikers who prevented any one from working. … The "Netzig Journal," which duly reported all this, never forgot to add how great were the services of Dr. Hessling in the cause of social peace and the welfare of the workers. Every new workman's dwelling Diederich built was published by Rothgroschen in a highly flattering picture and was made the subject of a laudatory article. Certain other employers, whose influence in Netzig fortunately was no longer of any account, might encourage subversive tendencies in their employes by sharing profits with them. The principles for which Dr. Hessling stood established the best possible relationship between employer and employed, such as His Majesty the Emperor wished to see everywhere in German industry. Strong resistance to the unjust demands of the workers, together with joint action on the part of the employers, were a part, as every one knew, of the Emperor's social programme, which it was the honourable ambition of Dr. Hessling also to carry out. Beside this stood a picture of Diederich.

Such recognition was a spur to ever greater activities—in spite of the unredeemed sins, whose powerful effects were visible not only in business but also in domestic life, and in the latter, unfortunately, it was Kienast who sowed envy and discord. He declared that but for him and his discreet assistance in the purchase of the shares Diederich could never have attained his brilliant position. To this Diederich retorted that Kienast had been compensated by a number of shares proportionate to his means. His brother-in-law would not admit this, and professed, on the contrary, to have real grounds for his unconscionable demands. Was he not, as Magda's husband, part-owner of the old Hessling factory, to the extent of one-eighth of its value? The factory was sold and Diederich had received ready money and preferred Gausenfeld shares in exchange. Kienast demanded one-eighth of the capital income and of the yearly dividends from the preferred shares. To this unheard of presumption Diederich replied emphatically that he owed nothing more either to his sister or his brother-in-law. "I was bound to pay you only your share of the annual profits of my factory. My factory is sold. Gausenfeld does not belong to me but to a company of shareholders. So far as the capital is concerned, that is my private fortune. You have no claim on it." Kienast called this barefaced robbery. Fully convinced by his own argument Diederich talked of blackmail, and then came a lawsuit.

The lawsuit lasted three years. It was fought with increasing bitterness, especially by Kienast, who gave up his post in Eschweiler and moved with Magda to Netzig, in order to devote himself entirely to it. As chief witness against Diederich he had cited old Sotbier, who, in his desire for vengeance, was actually prepared to prove that even earlier Diederich had not given his relations the money which was due to them. Kienast also bethought himself of the idea of showing up certain incidents in Diederich's past, with the assistance of Napoleon Fischer, now a deputy in the Reichstag. In this, however, he never quite succeeded. Nevertheless, those tactics compelled Diederich on different occasions to pay over considerable sums to the party funds of the Social Democrats. And he told himself that his personal loss grieved him less than the injury which the national cause thereby suffered. Guste, who could not see quite so far, egged on the men in their fight rather from feminine motives. Her first child was a girl, and she could not forgive Magda for having a boy. Magda, who was at first mildly interested in the money question, traced the beginning of hostilities to the time when Emma appeared with a daring hat from Berlin. Magda remarked that Emma was now favoured by Diederich in the most shameful fashion. Emma had her own flat in Gausenfeld where she gave tea parties. The amount of her dress allowance was nothing less than an insult to her married sister. Magda had to witness the advantage which her marriage had conferred upon her being turned into the very opposite, and she accused Diederich of having meanly got rid of her just before his success had begun. If Emma could still not find a husband there appeared to be good reasons for it—which were even being whispered about in Netzig. Magda saw no reason why she should not say them out loud. Inge Tietz brought the story to Gausenfeld, but at the same time she brought with her a weapon against Magda, because she happened to meet the midwife at the Kienasts', and the first child was born hardly six months after they were married. A terrible commotion ensued, telephonic vituperation from one house to the other, threats of legal proceedings, for which material was collected by each lady's acquiring the other's servants.

 

In due course Diederich was once more in a position to say: "My house is my castle." The family quarrels were settled and the household flourished exceedingly. After Gretchen, who was born in 1894, and Horst in 1895, came Kraft in 1896, Like a model father, Diederich kept an account for every child, even before it was born, and the first thing he entered up was the cost of the midwife and the expenses of providing for each child. His view of married life was very strict. Horst came into the world with great difficulty. When it was all over Diederich informed his wife that, if it had been necessary to choose, he would simply have allowed her to die, "painful as that course would have been," he added. "But the race is more important, and I am responsible to the Emperor for my sons." Women were there to produce children and Diederich refused them any licence for frivolity and impropriety, although he graciously allowed them opportunities for recreation and improvement. "Keep to woman's sphere," he would say to Guste, "religion, cooking and children." On the red check tablecloth, with the imperial eagle and royal crown on each square, the Bible always lay beside the coffee-pot, and it was Guste's duty to read a passage from it every morning. On Sundays they went to church. "The authorities wish it," said Diederich seriously, when Guste was recalcitrant. As Diederich lived in the fear of his master, so Guste had to live in the fear of hers. When they entered a room she knew that the right of precedence properly belonged to her husband. The children, in turn, had to treat her with respect, and Manne, the dachshund, had to obey every one. At meals, therefore, the children and the dog had to keep quiet. Guste's duty was to discern from the wrinkles upon her husband's brow whether it was advisable to leave him undisturbed, or to drive away his cares with chatter. Certain dishes were prepared only for the master of the house, and when he was in a good humour Diederich would throw a piece across the table and, laughing heartily, would watch to see who caught it, Gretchen, Guste or the dog. His siesta was often troubled by gastronomical disturbances, and Guste's duty then commanded her to put warm poultices on his stomach. Groaning and terribly fright ened he used to say he would make his will and appoint a trustee. Guste would not be allowed to touch a penny. "I have worked for my sons, not in order that you may amuse yourself after I am gone!" Guste objected that her own fortune was the foundation of everything, but it availed her nothing. … Of course, when Guste had a cold, she did not expect that Diederich, in his turn, would nurse her. Then she had to keep as far away from him as possible, for Diederich was determined not to have any germs near him. He would not go into the factory unless he had antiseptic tablets in his mouth, and one night there was a great disturbance because the cook had come down with influenza, and had a fever temperature. "Out of the house with the beastly thing at once!" Diederich commanded, and when she had gone he wandered about the house for a long time spraying it with disinfecting fluids.

When he read the "Lokal-Anzeiger" in the evening he would constantly say to his wife that Germany could cease to live, but she could not do without a merchant marine—to which Guste agreed, for the simple reason that she did not like the Empress Friedrich, who was betraying us to England, as every one knew, quite apart from certain domestic conditions in Friedrichskron Castle, of which Guste strongly disapproved. We needed a strong fleet against England, which must be absolutely smashed; it was the deadliest enemy of the Emperor. And why? In Netzig they knew all about it. Simply because His Majesty had once, in a lively mood, given the Prince of Wales a friendly kick in a tempting portion of his anatomy. Besides, certain kinds of paper came from England, whose importation could best be stopped by a victorious war. Looking over the top of his paper Diederich used to say to Guste: "I hate England as only Frederick the Great hated that nation of thieves and tradesmen. Those are His Majesty's sentiments and I subscribe to them." He subscribed to every word in every speech of the Emperor's, and always in their first and strongest form, not in the modified version which appeared the next day. All these keywords to the character of Germany and of the times—Diederich lived, moved and had his being in them, as if they had been manifestations of his own nature; they remained in his memory as if he himself had spoken them. Sometimes he really had already said such things. He mixed some of them, on public occasions, with his own inventions, and neither he nor anybody else could tell what came from him and what from one more exalted. … "This is sweet," said Guste who was reading the miscellaneous column. "We must grasp the trident," declared Diederich resolutely, while Guste read out some adventure of the Empress which filled her with deep satisfaction. At Hubertusstock the exalted lady liked to dress in simple, almost middleclass style. A postman to whom she revealed her identity on the country road did not believe who she was and laughed in her face. Afterwards he was overwhelmed and fell upon his knees, only to be rewarded with a mark. This also delighted Diederich, just as his heart was touched when the Emperor went out into the street on Christmas Eve, with fifty-seven marks in newly-minted money, to give the poor of Berlin a happy Christmas; as when an ominous thrill ran through him on learning that the Emperor had become an Honorary Bailiff of the Knights of Saint John. The "Lokal-Anzeiger" opened up new worlds, and then, again, it brought the highest rulers comfortably close to one. There in the alcove the three-quarter life-size figures in bronze of their Majesties seemed to move smilingly closer, and the Trumpeter of Sackingen, who accompanied them, could be heard blowing a cordial blast. "It must be heavenly on washing-day at the Emperor's," said Guste, "when there are a lot of clothes. They have a hundred people for washing!" Diederich, on the other hand, was filled with profound pleasure because the Emperor's dachshunds were not obliged to respect the trains of the court ladies. He conceived the plan of giving full liberty to his own Manne in this respect at their next evening party. But a telegram in the next column made him uneasy, because it was still uncertain whether the Emperor and the Tsar would meet. "If it doesn't happen soon," said Diederich importantly, "we shall have to be prepared for the worst. One cannot trifle with world history." He liked to linger over imminent catastrophes, for "the German spirit is serious, almost tragic," he would declare.

On the whole, Diederich's relations with Jadassohn turned out very well. The erstwhile rivals had become more mature and more advanced in the sphere of life that satisfied them, and they interfered with one another neither politically nor socially, nor in that discreet villa which Diederich visited one evening in the week when, without Guste's knowledge, he did not appear at the Stammtisch. It lay beyond the Saxon Gate, and was inhabited by a single lady, who was rarely seen in public, and then never on foot. In a stage box at the Valhalla Theatre she sometimes sat in great state, was subjected to general scrutiny with opera-glasses, but was never saluted by any one. For her own part she behaved like a queen preserving her incognito. In spite of her splendour, everybody knew that it was Käthchen Zillich who had trained for her profession in Berlin, and now followed it successfully in the villa the von Brietzens used to have. Nobody denied that this fact was not calculated to enhance the prestige of Pastor Zillich. His parishioners were deeply offended, not to mention the sceptics, who were delighted. In order to obviate a catastrophe the Pastor appealed to the police to put an end to the scandal, but he encountered opposition which could only be explained by reference to certain connections between the von Brietzen villa and the highest offices in the town. Doubting of human no less than divine justice, the father swore he would discharge the duties of a judge himself, and one afternoon he was really supposed to have inflicted chastisement on his daughter, as she lay in bed. Only for her mother, who guessed everything and followed him, Kathchen would not have got off with her life, the parish declared. It was said that the mother still had a reprehensible weakness for the daughter in her wicked splendour. So far as the Pastor was concerned, he declared from the pulpit that Käthchen was dead and buried, thus saving himself from the intervention of the ecclesiastical court. In time this trial increased his authority. … Among the gentlemen who had an investment interest in Käthchen's career Diederich knew officially only Jadassohn, although the latter had invested less money than any one, none at all, in fact, Diederich suspected. Jadassohn's relations with Kathchen, from former times, were a sort of mortgage on the enterprise. So Diederich had no scruples in discussing with Jadassohn the anxiety it caused him. At the Stammtisch the pair pulled their chairs together in a corner, over which the motto stood: "What lovely woman does for love of man must e'er succeed accordingly to plan." With due respect for Pastor Zillich, who was discoursing not far off upon the canons of Christianity, they discussed the affairs of the villa. Diederich complained of Kathchen's rapacious demands upon his purse, and he expected Jadassohn to exercise a restraining influence upon her. But Jadassohn merely said: "Why do you keep her then? Isn't she supposed to be most expensive?" And this was also true. After his first fleeting satisfaction at having got Kathchen in this fashion, Diederich had come to regard her practically as an item, an imposing item, in his advertising account. "My position," he said to Jadassohn, "obliges me to do things on a large scale. Other wise I would—honestly—drop the whole thing, for, between ourselves, Kathchen does not offer enough attraction." At this Jadassohn smiled eloquently, but said nothing. "In any case," continued Diederich, "she is the same type as my wife, and my wife"—here he whispered behind his hand—"has a better technique. You see there is no resisting her temperament, and after every escapade at the von Brietzen villa I have the feeling that I owe my wife something. You may laugh, but as a matter of fact, I always make her a present. Provided she doesn't notice anything!" Jadassohn laughed with more reason than Diederich suspected, for he had long since regarded it as his moral duty to enlighten Frau Hessling about this relationship. In political matters a similarly advantageous co-operation was established between Diederich and Jadassohn as in the case of Kathchen. They jointly did their utmost to purge the town of unpatriotic elements, especially of those who spread the plague of lèse-majesté. With his many connections Diederich discovered the offenders, while Jadassohn led them to the slaughter. When the Song to Ægir appeared their activities proved especially fruitful. In Diederich's own house the piano-teacher, with whom Guste practised, spoke disrespectfully of the Song to Ægir and endured appropriate punishment. … Even Wolfgang Buck, who had latterly come to live in Netzig again, declared that the punishment was quite just, for it satisfied monarchial sentiment. "People would not have understood a pardon," he said at the Stamtntisch. "The monarchy is in politics what the exigent and energetic women are in love. Whoever is built that way will insist on something being done and cannot be satisfied with half measures." Diederich blushed at this. … Unfortunately, Buck confessed to such sentiments only so long as he was sober. Later on he gave sufficient grounds for being excluded from all decent society by his well-known way of dragging the most sacred things in the dust. It was Diederich who saved him from that fate. He defended his friend. "You must remember, gentlemen, that he has an hereditary taint, for the family shows signs of already advanced degeneracy. On the other hand, a proof of the healthy kernel in him is the fact that he was not satisfied with an actor's existence and has resumed his profession as a lawyer." The reply was that it looked suspicious that Buck should preserve such absolute silence concerning his experiences of almost three years on the stage. Was he, after all, still a man of honour? Diederich could not answer this question. A profound impulse, indefensible in logic, always drove him to the son of old Buck. Every time he eagerly renewed a discussion which abruptly terminated on each occasion, after having revealed irreconcilable divergencies of opinion. But if Buck came at first merely for the sake of a particularly good glass of cognac, he was sooii coming obviously on account of Emma. They both understood one another without reference to Diederich, and in a way that offended him. They carried on clever and caustic conversations, apparently without the spirit and the other factors which normally stimulated the intercourse of the sexes. When they lowered their voices and became confidential Diederich found them absolutely sinister. He had the choice of interfering and bringing about more formal relations, or of simply leaving the room. To his own astonishment he chose the latter. "They have both, so to speak, fulfilled their fate, if fate it can be called," he said to himself with a sense of superiority which overwhelmed him. He hardly noticed that, at bottom, he was proud of Emma, because his own sister, Emma, was smart enough, peculiar enough, indeed, unusual enough, to get on with Wolfgang Buck. "Who knows?" he thought hesitatingly, and finally decided: "Why not! Bismarck did the same thing with Austria; first a defeat and then an alliance!"

These obscure reflections prompted Diederich again to take a certain interest in Wolfgang's father. Old Buck's heart was affected and he was now rarely seen, and when he was, he was usually standing in front of a shop-window apparently absorbed in the display, but in reality solely concerned to conceal the fact that he could not breathe. What did he think? How did he judge the new commercial prosperity of Netzig, the renaissance of patriotism, and those who now exercised authority? Was he convinced and inwardly vanquished? It happened that Dr. Hessling, the most powerful person in the community, would slip surreptitiously through a certain doorway, and then creep along unobserved behind this power less half-forgotten old man. In his elevated position he was mysteriously disturbed by a dying man. … As old Buck was in arrears with the interest on his mortgage, Diederich proposed to the son that he should take over the house. Of course he would allow the old gentleman to occupy it so long as he was alive. Diederich wanted also to buy the furniture and pay for it at once. Wolfgang induced his father to accept.

Meanwhile the 22nd of March passed, William the Great was a hundred years old and his monument had not yet been erected in the public park. Questions without end were asked at the meetings of the Town Council, several times additional credits were sanctioned after great difficulty, only to be vetoed again. The worst blow the community received was when His Majesty refused to have his lamented grandfather on foot and commanded an equestrian statue. Spurred on by his impatience Diederich often went to Meisestrasse in the evening to see how the work was progressing. It was the month of May and unpleasantly warm even in the twilight, but there was a breeze blowing through the deserted, newly planted area of the public park. With feelings of irritation Diederich thought again of the excellent stroke of business which the lord of the manor, Herr von Quitzin, had done here. That fellow had it all his own way! It was not very difficult to speculate in landed property when one's cousin was Governor! The town had no alternative but to take over the whole lot for the monument and pay whatever he demanded. … Then two figures appeared. Diederich saw in time who it was, and drew back among the shrubbery.

"We can breathe here," said old Buck. His son answered: "Unless the place takes away all desire to do so. They have contracted a debt of a million and a half to create this dumping ground for rubbish." And he pointed to the unfinished erection of stone pedestals, eagles, circular seats, lions, temples and figures. With beating wings the eagles had planted their talons on the still empty pedestal, others were perched on top of those temples which were set at symmetrical distances in the circular seats; behind, lions were crouching ready to spring into the foreground, where there was enough movement caused by fluttering flags and people in violent agitation. Napoleon III, in the crushed attitude of Wilhelmshöhe, adorned the rear of the pedestal, as the vanquished in the rear of the triumphal chariot. He was also threatened with an attack from one of the lions, which was humping its back ferociously on the steps of the monument just behind him. Bismarck and the other paladins, very much at home in the midst of this menagerie, stretched up their hands from the base of the pedestal in order to share in the deeds of the as yet absent ruler.

"Who ought to jump into that vacant place up there?" asked Wolfgang Buck. "The old man was merely a forerunner. Afterwards this mystic-heroic spectacle will be shut off with chains, and we shall have something to gape at—which was the main object of the whole thing. Melodrama, and no good, at that."

After a while—as twilight deepened—the father said: "And you, my son? Acting also seemed to you to be the main object."

"As it does to all my generation. We are no good for any thing else. We should not take ourselves too seriously nowadays. That is the safest attitude in view of the future, and I will not deny that it was for no other reason than vanity, that I abandoned the stage again. It is laughable, father. I left because once, when I was acting, a chief of police wept. But can you imagine that being tolerable? I represent the last degree of refinement, an insight into the heart of man, lofty morality, the intellect and soul of a modern man, to people who seem to be my equals, because they nod to me and look as if they felt something. But afterwards they pursue revolutionaries and fire on strikers, for my chief of police is typical of them all."

Here Buck turned straight towards the bush which concealed Diederich. "Art is art, and the whole tumult of the soul never touches your lives. On the day the masters of your culture understood that, as I do, they would leave you alone with your wild animals, as I do." As he pointed to the lions and eagles, the old man also looked at the monument and said:

"They have become more powerful, but their power has brought neither more intelligence nor more kindness into the world. It has been in vain. We also were born in vain, apparently." He glanced at his son. "Nevertheless you should not leave them a clear field."

Wolfgang sighed heavily. "What is there to hope for, father? They take good care not to push things too far, like the privileged classes before the revolution. History has unfortunately taught them moderation. Their social legislation prepares the way and corrupts. They satisfy the mob just enough to make it not worth while to fight them seriously for bread, not to mention freedom. Who is left to testify against them?"

Then the old man drew himself up, and his voice had its old sonorousness. "The spirit of humanity," he said, and, after a moment, as the younger man held his head down: "You must believe in that, my son. When the catastrophe is over which they think they can avoid, you may be sure that humanity will not consider the causes leading to the first revolution more shameless and stupid than the conditions which were ours."

Softly as a voice from the distance he said: "Who would have lived who lived only in the present."

Suddenly he seemed to totter. The son hastened to catch him and on his arm the old man disappeared in the darkness, with bowed figure and halting step. Diederich, who hurried off by a different route, had the sensation of emerging from a bad but largely incomprehensible dream, in which the very foundations had been shaken. And in spite of the unreality of all that he had heard, it seemed to shake more profoundly than the tremors of the revolution as he had known it. The days of one of this pair were numbered, the other had not very much to look forward to, yet Diederich felt it would have been better if they had stirred up a healthy uproar in the country, than to have whispered, here in the dark, things which were concerned only with the soul and the future.

The present certainly offered more tangible matters. To gether with the creator of the monument Diederich planned artistic arrangements for the unveiling ceremony, in which the creator proved to be more accommodating than might have been expected of him. Generally speaking, he had so far shown only the good side of his profession, namely genius and a dignified point of view, while, for the rest, he turned out to be polite and competent. The young man, a nephew of Mayor Scheffelweis, was a proof that, in spite of obsolete prejudices, there were decent people in every walk of life, and that there is no need to despair of a young man who is too lazy to earn an honest living and becomes an artist. The first time he returned from Berlin to Netzig he still wore a velvet jacket, which only exposed his family to unpleasant remarks. But on his second visit he was already the proud possessor of a silk hat, and very soon he was discovered by His Majesty, and was permitted to make the successful likeness of the Margrave Hatto the Powerful for the Siegesallee, together with the likenesses of his two most important contemporaries, the monk Tassilo, who could drink one hundred litres of beer in a day, and the Knight Klitzenzitz, who introduced compulsory labour amongst the inhabitants of Berlin, although they hung him afterwards. His Majesty had drawn the special attention of the Lord Mayor to the achievements of the Knight Klitzenzitz, and this had again redounded to the advantage of the sculptor's career. One could not do too much for a man who basked in the direct rays of the imperial sunshine. Diederich placed his house at his disposal, he also hired the horse which the artist required to keep in good health. And what ambitions were conceived when the famous guest described as very promising little Horst's first attempts to sketch! Diederich decided on the spot that Horst should follow art, that most opportune career.

Wulckow, who had no feeling for art, and did not know, what to say to His Majesty's favourite, received from the monument committee a presentation of 2000 marks, to which he was entitled as honorary chairman. The oration to be made at the unveiling was entrusted by the Committee to the ordinary chairman, the spiritual creator of the monument and the founder of the national movement which had led to its erection, Dr. Hessling, Municipal Councillor and Managing Director of Gausenfeld, hurrah! Moved and elated, Diederich saw himself on the eve of further promotion. The Governor-General himself was expected. Diederich would have to speak before His Excellency; what results that promised! Wulckow, it is true, tried to thwart them. He was irritated because he had been ignored, and went so far as to refuse to admit Guste to the stand with the officials' wives. Diederich on this account, had an interview with him which was stormy, but fruitless. Fuming with rage he returned home to Guste. "He won't budge. He says you are not the wife of an official. We shall see who is more official, you or he! He shall beg you to come! Thank Heaven I have no longer need of him, but he may need me"— And so it was, for when the next number of "Die Woche" appeared, what did it contain besides the usual pictures of the Emperor? The reproduction of two portraits, one showing the creator of the Emperor William Monument in Netzig, as he was just putting the final touches to his work, the other showing the chairman of the committee and his wife, Diederich and Guste together. Not a mention of Wulckow—which was widely noticed and regarded as a sign that his position had been weakened. He must have felt it himself, for he took steps to get into "Die Woche." He called on Diederich, but Diederich sent word he was not at home. The artist made excuses. Then it happened that Wulckow actually went up to Guste in the street. That business about the seat with the officials' wives was all a misunderstanding. "He begged like our dachshund," Guste reported. "Just for that very reason, no!" decided Diederich, and he had no scruples in telling the story around to everybody. "Should I do violence to my feelings, when the man is in my power?" he said to Wolfgang Buck. "Colonel von Haffke is also throwing him over." He calmly added: "Now he sees that there are people more powerful than himself. To his own disadvantage Wulckow did not learn in time to adapt himself to the modern conditions of large scale publicity, which have left their mark on our present course!" "Absolutism tempered by the craving for notoriety," added Buck.

In view of Wulckow's downfall Diederich began to find that speculation in land values, which had been so disadvantageous to himself, more and more offensive. His indignation grew to such a point that the visit which Reichstag Deputy Napoleon Fischer just happened to be paying to Netzig, became a real opportunity for Diederich to relieve his feelings. Parliamentary immunity had its advantages, after all! For Napoleon Fischer repaired immediately to the Reichstag and made revelations. In perfect safety he exposed the manoeuvres of Governor von Wulckow in Netzig, his net profit on the site of the Emperor William Monument, which, Napoleon declared, had been extracted from the town, and the presentation of 5000 marks, which he described as "palm grease." According to the press this caused an enormous sensation amongst the representatives of the people. It is true, they weren't excited against Wulckow but against the man who had exposed him. There was a furious demand for proofs and witnesses. Diederich trembled lest the next line should mention his name. Happily it did not appear. Napoleon Fischer did not betray the duty of his office. Instead the minister spoke. He left to the judgment of the House this unheard-of attack, unfortunately made tinder cover of immunity, against one who was absent and could not defend himself. The House gave judgment by applauding the minister. The matter was at an end, so far as Parliament was concerned, and it remained only for the press also to express its horror and, where it was not entirely irreproachable, to wink its eye gently. Several Social Democratic papers, which had been incautious, had to surrender the responsible editors to the courts, including the Netzig organ. Diederich seized this occasion to draw a sharp line between himself and those who had doubted Governor von Wulckow. He and Guste called on the Wulckows. "I know at first hand," he said afterwards, "that the man is assured of a brilliant future. He was hunting lately with His Majesty and brought off an excellent joke." A week later "Die Woche" published a full-page portrait, a bald head and beard in one half, a paunch in the other, and underneath the legend "Governor von Wulckow, the spiritual creator of the Emperor William Monument in Netzig, who was recently the object of an attack in the Reichstag which excited universal indignation, and whose appointment as Governor- General is expected. …" The picture of Dr. Hessling and his wife had only been given a quarter page. Diederich was satisfied that due proportions in rank had been restored. Authority remained as impregnable as ever, even under modern conditions of large-scale publicity. In spite of everything he was profoundly contented. In this way he was spiritually prepared most appropriately for his oration.

The latter was conceived during the ambitious visions of nights snatched from sleep, and as a result of a constant exchange of ideas with Wolfgang Buck, and especially Käthchen Zillich, who showed a remarkably clear perception of the importance of the approaching event. On the fateful day, when Diederich, his heart beating against the copy of his speech, drove up with his wife at half-past ten to the festive scene, the latter presented an as yet unanimated, but all the more orderly spectacle. Above all, the military cordon had already been drawn up, and when one got through, only after giving all the required credentials, there was here also an impressive barrier against the unprivileged mob, who had to crane their perspiring necks in the sun behind our soldiers and at the foot of a huge, black partition. The stands to the right and left of the long white cloths behind which William the Great could be divined, were sheltered by awnings and in numerable flags. On the left-hand side, as Diederich noticed, the officers and gentlemen were permitted to look after themselves and their ladies without the interference of strangers, thanks to the sense of discipline which was in their very blood. All the rigours of police supervision were transferred to the right-hand side where the civilians scrambled for the seats. Then Guste expressed dissatisfaction with hers. It seemed to her that only the official marquee, facing the statue, was fit to receive her. She was an official lady; Wulckow had admitted it. Diederich had to go there with her, or appear a coward, but, of course, his daring assault was repulsed as emphatically as he had anticipated. For form's sake, and so that Guste should not lose faith in him, he protested against the tone of the police officer, and was almost arrested. His order of the Crown, fourth class, his black-white-and-red sash, and his speech, which he produced, just saved him, but they could never pass as a satisfactory substitute for a uniform, either in his own eyes or those of the world. This one real distinction was lacking, and Diederich was once more compelled to notice that without a uniform one went through life with a bad conscience, notwithstanding one's other first-class qualifications.

In a state of disorganisation the Hesslings beat a retreat, which attracted general attention, Guste looking blue and swollen in her feathers, lace and diamonds. Diederich was fuming and shoved forward as much as possible his paunch with its sash, as if he were spreading the national colours over his defeat. Thus they passed between the Veterans' Association with wreaths of oak around their tall hats, who were placed in the lower half of the military stand, under the command of Kuhnchen, as a Landwehr lieutenant, and the maids of honour in white, with black-white-and-red sashes, under the orders of Pastor Zillich, in his official robes. But when they reached their places, who was sitting, with the air of a queen, in Guste's seat? They were flabbergasted: Kathchen Zillich! Here Diederich felt bound to speak authoritatively in his turn. "This lady has made a mistake; the seat is not for her," he said, not to Kathchen Zillich, whom he appeared to take for a stranger, no less than for a doubtful character, but to the official in charge—and even if public opinion about him had not supported him, Diederich represented in this matter the inarticulate power of order, morals and law. Rather should the stand collapse than that Kathchen Zillich should remain there.

Nevertheless, the incredible occurred. The steward shrugged his shoulders, while Kathchen smiled ironically, and even the policeman whom Diederich had called, merely gave further support to this irruption of immorality. Diederich was stunned by a world whose normal laws appeared to be suspended, and he submitted when Guste was moved up to a row away at the top, meanwhile exchanging sharp words with Käthchen Zillich concerning their contrasted treatment. The argument spread to other people and threatened to break out, when the band began to crash out a march from "Lohengrin," for the procession to the official marquee was actually in progress; Wulckow at the head, unmistakable in spite of his red hussar uniform, with an important general on one side of him, and on the other, a gentleman in a dress-suit with decorations. Was it possible? Two more important generals! And their adjutants, uniforms of every colour, glittering orders and tremendously tall men. "Who is that tall one in yellow?" asked Guste anxiously. "Isn't he a fine man!"—"Would you kindly not walk on my feet!" Diederich demanded, for his neighbour had jumped up; everybody was straining forward, exalted and excited. "Just look at them, Guste! Emma is silly not to have come. This is the only first-class theatre. It is superb; there is no denying it!"—"But that one with the yellow facings!" Guste raved. "That slim man! He must be a real aristocrat. I can see it at once." Diederich laughed rapturously. "There is not one of them who isn't a blue-blooded aristocrat, you can bet your life. When I tell you that His Majesty's aide-de-camp is here!"—"The one in yellow!"—"Here in person!"

People were getting the story right. "The aide-de-camp! Two major-generals! By Jove!" And the graceful smartness of the salutes! Even Mayor Scheffelweis was dragged out of his modest obscurity and could stand stiffly in front of his superiors in the uniform of a lieutenant in the Army Service Corps Reserve. Dressed as a lancer Herr von Quitzin thoroughly examined through his monocle the place which had temporarily belonged to him. But Wulckow, the red hussar, only now brought into evidence the full significance of what a Governor was, as he saluted, thrusting forward the profile of his paunch framed with cords. "Those are the pillars of our strength!" shouted Diederich, his words drowned by the powerful sounds of the march. "So long as we have such rulers we shall be the terror of the world!" Driven by an overpowering impulse, in the belief that his hour had come, he rushed down towards the speaker's platform. But the policeman on guard intercepted him. "No, no! It ain't your turn yet," said the policeman. Suddenly checked in his course, he ran into a steward, who had been keeping an eye on him, the same one as before, a municipal employe, who assured him that he knew very well that the seat of the lady with the yellow hair belonged to Diederich, "but the lady got it according to superior orders." The rest was told in a faint whisper, and Diederich let him go with a gesture implying: "Of course, in that case! " His Majesty's aide-de-camp! Of course, in that case! Diederich wondered whether it would not be well to turn around and openly pay his homage to Käthchen Zillich.

He did not have time to do so. Colonel von Haffke commanded the colour guard to stand at ease, and Kühnchen gave his warriors the same command. Behind the marquee the regimental band played a call to prayers, which was obeyed by the maids of honour and the Veterans' Association. Kühnchen in his historical Landwehr uniform, which was decorated not only with an iron cross but also with a glorious patch—where a French bullet had penetrated—met Pastor Zillich attired in his robes in the middle of the open space. The colour guard also fell in and, under Zillich's guidance, they did honour to their ancient Ally. On the stand for the civilians the public were compelled by the officials to get up. The officers and gentlemen did so of their own accord. Then the band played "Ein' feste Burg." Zillich seemed anxious to do something more, but the Governor-General, obviously convinced that the ancient Ally had had enough, fell back in his seat very bored, with the aide-de-camp on his right and the Major-Generals on his left. When the whole company had formed groups, according to their natural laws, in the official marquee, Governor von Wulckow was seen to give a sign, as a result of which a policeman was set in motion. He betook himself to his colleague in charge of the speaker's platform, whereupon the latter passed the word to Diederich. "Come on, it's your turn," said the policeman.

Diederich took care not to stumble as he climbed up, for his legs had suddenly become weak, and everything swam be fore his eyes. After gasping for a moment, he distinguished in the bare circle around him a little tree, which had no leaves, but was covered with black-white-and-red paper flowers. The sight of the little tree brought back his strength and his memory. He began: "Your Excellencies, my Lords and gentlemen, it is a hundred years since the great Emperor, whose monument is being unveiled by His Majesty's representative, was given to us and to his country. At the same time—to lend more significance to this hour—it is almost a decade since his great grandson ascended the throne. Why should we not first of all cast back a proud and grateful glance over the great times which we ourselves have been privileged to experience?"

Diederich glanced back. He alternately celebrated the unparalleled development of commerce and loyalty. He lingered over the ocean for a considerable time. "The ocean is indispensable to the greatness of Germany. In the ocean we have a proof that there can be no decision, on the seas or beyond them, without Germany and the German Emperor, for to-day the business of the world is our chief concern." Not only from an industrial standpoint, however, but even more from a moral and intellectual standpoint, their advance could be described as unique. What was our former condition? Diederich drew an unflattering picture of the previous generation which, led away with perilous beliefs by a one-sided humanitarian education, had no sense of dignity in national affairs. If that had now been fundamentally changed, if we now formed one single national party, in the just consciousness that we were the most efficient people in Europe and the whole world, despite mean-spirited and captious critics—whom had we to thank for it? Only His Majesty, Diederich answered. "He aroused the citizen from his slumbers, his lofty example has made us what we are." As he said this he struck himself on the chest. "His personality, his unique, incomparable personality, is so powerful that we can all creep up by it, like the clinging ivy!" he shouted, although this was not in the draft he had written. "In whatever His Majesty the Emperor decides for the good of the German people, we will joyfully co-operate, without distinction of creed and class. The plain man from the workshop is also welcome!" he again added at the inspiration of the moment, suddenly stimulated by the smell of the perspiring populace behind the military cordon, which was borne in his direction by the wind.

"Rendered efficient to an astonishing degree, full of the highest moral strength for positive action, and in our shining armour, the terror of all the enemies who enviously threaten us, we are the Mite among the nations. In us German master-culture has for the first time attained heights which will never be surpassed by any people, be they who they may!"

At this point the Governor-General was observed to make a sign with his head, while the aide-de-camp moved his hands against one another. Then the applause broke out in the stands. Handkerchiefs were waved amongst the civilians.

Guste allowed hers to flutter in the breeze, and so did Käthchen Zillich, in spite of the earlier unpleasantness. His heart as light as the fluttering handkerchiefs, Diederich resumed his lofty flight.

"A master-nation, however, does not achieve such an incomparable flowering in the slackness of peaceful ease. No. Our ancient Ally has deemed it necessary to test the German gold with fire. We had to pass through the fiery furnaces of Jena and Tilsit, and in the end we have been able to plant our victorious colours everywhere, and to forge the imperial crown of Germany upon the field of battle."

He recalled the many trials in the life of William the Great, from which, Diederich asserted, we could see that the Creator does not lose sight of His chosen people, and that He builds up the instrument suitable to His purpose. The great Emperor, however, had never been mistaken about this, as was particularly noticeable on that great historic occasion when, as King by the grace of God, with his sceptre in one hand and his imperial sword in the other, he paid honour only unto God and received his throne from Him. With a lofty sense of duty he had scorned to pay honour to the people and to accept the Crown at their hands. Nor was he dismayed by the responsibility to God alone, from which no minister and no parliament could relieve him. Diederich's voice trembled with emotion. "The people themselves recognise that, when they almost worship the personality of the deceased Emperor. Did he not succeed? And where success is, there is God! In the Middle Ages William the Great would have been canonised. To-day we erect a magnificent monument to his memory."

Again the Governor-General made a sign, which was again the signal for enthusiastic applause. The sun had disappeared and it grew colder, and as if inspired by the lowering skies Diederich turned to a deeper question. "Who, then, stood in the way of his exalted purpose? Who was the enemy of the great Emperor and of his loyal people? Napoleon, whom he had happily laid low, held his crown not from God but from the people. The fact itself was eloquent. That gives to the judgment of history its eternal and overpowering significance." Then Diederich essayed to depict conditions in the empire of Napoleon III, poisoned by democracy and therefore abandoned by God. Crass materialism, concealed by hollow religiosity, had exaggerated an undoubted business sense. This contempt for the soul was naturally allied with a degraded lust for pleasure. The craving for advertisement was the essence of publicity, and at every moment it degenerated into a mania for persecution. Relying outwardly upon prestige, but inwardly upon the police, with no other remedy but force, one strove only for theatrical effects, making great pomp with the heroic periods of the past, but chauvinism was the only goal which was ever reached. … Of all that we know nothing," cried Diederich raising his hand towards the witnesses above. "Therefore, there can never, never be for us that terrible end which awaited the empire of our hereditary foe."

At this point there was a flash of lightning. Between the military cordon and the partition, in the neighbourhood of what he vaguely guessed to be the crowd, there was a lurid flash in the dark cloud, and a peal of thunder followed, which was obviously going too far. The gentlemen in the official marquee began to look Uncomfortable and the Governor-General had winced. On the stand reserved for the officers there was, naturally, no falling off of discipline, though amongst the civilians a certain uneasiness was visible. Diederich dominated the noise, for he shouted, thundering likewise: "Our ancient Ally proves it! We are not like others. We are serious, loyal and true! To be a German is to do a thing for its own sake. Who amongst us has ever made money out of his loyalty? Where could corrupt officials be found? Here masculine honesty is united with feminine purity, for woman leads us ever onward and is not the tool of vulgar pleasure. This radiant picture of true German character, however, rests upon the solid earth of Christianity, and that is the only true foundation; for every heathen civilisation, however beautiful and fine, will collapse at the first breath of disaster. And the soul of the German being is respect for power, power transmitted and hallowed by God, against which it is impossible to revolt. Therefore we must, now as always, regard the defence of our country as the highest duty, the King's uniform as the supreme distinction, and the making of arms as the most dignified labour." The thunder rumbled, though apparently intimidated by Diederich's increasingly powerful voice. But drops began to fall, which could be heard separately, they were so large. "The turbid stream of democracy," Diederich shouted, "flows unceasingly from the land of our hereditary foe and German manliness and German idealism alone can dam the tide. The unpatriotic enemies of the divine world order, however, who wish to undermine our political system, —they must be exterminated, root and branch, in order that, one day when we are called before our heavenly Judge, each of us can appear with' an easy conscience in the presence of his God and his old Emperor; so that when asked if he has worked wholeheartedly for the welfare of the Empire, he can strike his chest and answer frankly: 'Yes.'"

At these words Diederich hit his chest so hard that he was winded. The civilian stand profited by the unavoidable pause which ensued to show by its restlessness that it regarded the speech as finished. The storm had now come up right over the heads of the festive gathering, and in the mephitic light these raindrops, as big as a hen's egg, kept falling singly, slowly, like a warning. … Diederich had recovered his breath.

"Now, when this monument is unveiled," he began with renewed vigour, "when flags and standards are drooped in reverence, swords are lowered and bayonets flash at the command: present arms —" Just at this moment there was such a formidable crash in the heavens that Diederich ducked his head, and before he knew what he was doing he had crept under the reading-desk. Fortunately he emerged again before any one had noticed him disappear, for everybody had done the same. They scarcely paid any attention as Diederich requested His Excellency, the Governor-General, to be so kind as to order that the monument be unveiled. However, the Governor-General stepped out in front of the official marquee, his face was a shade yellower than usual and the glitter of his star was extinguished. In a feeble voice he said: "In the name of His Majesty I declare this monument to be unveiled"—and the covering fell, to the strains of "Die Wacht am Rhein." The loyal subjects were once more steeled against the threats from heaven by the spectacle of William the Great, riding through the air, looking like a good pater familias, though surrounded by all the terrors of authority. They joined heartily in the cheers of the Governor-General for the Emperor. The air of the national anthem was the cue for His Excellency to go up to the foot of the monument, examine it and to reward the expectant sculptor with a few appropriate words of recognition. People found it natural that this exalted personage should glance up dubiously at the sky, but, as might be expected, his sense of duty triumphed—a victory all the more brilliant because amongst that crowd of gallant soldiers he was the only civilian in a dress-suit. He ventured boldly forth, advancing beneath those huge, slow drops of rain, surrounded by lancers, cuirassiers and army service corps. … The inscription "William the Great" had already been inspected, the sculptor had been favoured with a few words and received his decoration, and it was just the turn of Hessling to be introduced as the spiritual creator of the monument, and to be decorated, when the heavens burst. They burst all at once with such force as to suggest a long-delayed explosion. Before the gentlemen could turn around they were up to their ankles in water, and His Excellency's sleeves and trousers were dripping. The stands disappeared beneath the downpour, and as if on a distant billowing sea it could be seen that the awnings had collapsed beneath the fury of the cloud-burst. Shrieking crowds struggled right and left in their moist embrace. The civilians scrambled down, like a grey, writhing serpent, bathing in the flooded field with spasmodic twists.

In the circumstances, the Governor-General consented to omit the remainder of the festive programme for reasons of expediency. While the lightning flashed all round him, and water sprang from him as from a fountain, he beat a hasty retreat, with the aide-de-camp, the two major-generals, dragoons, hussars, lancers and army service corps in the rear. On the way His Excellency remembered that the decoration for the spiritual creator was still hanging from his finger. Faithful to his duty in the extreme, but determined not to be detained, he passed it on, as he ran in his dripping clothes to Governor von Wulckow. Wulckow, in his turn, met a policeman, who was still clinging to his post, and entrusted him with the bestowal of this sign of the All Highest's approval. Whereupon the policeman wandered through storm and rain in search of Diederich. Finally he found him crouching in the water underneath the reading-desk. "Here y'are, the order of William," said the policeman, making off, for just then a flash of lightning came so near that it seemed as if it would prevent the decoration from being bestowed. Diederich could only heave a sigh. When he finally ventured to peep halfway out at the world, it presented a spectacle of increasing ruin. Tie Huge black partition opposite was swaying and threatened to topple over, with the house behind it. Above a seething mass of people, in the ghostly light of sulphur-yellow and blue, the carriage horses reared and dashed away. Happy were the unprivileged crowd outside who had decamped. The cultivated and possessing classes, on the other hand, were in such a position that they could feel the fragments of the ruin falling about their heads, and fire from heaven. It was hardly surprising that their behaviour was governed accordingly and many ladies were hurled back from the exit in the most ungentlemanly fashion, and simply rolled over one another. The officers, relying upon their bravery alone, made use of their weapons of offence against every one who opposed them, while flags, torn by the storm from what remained of the stands and the official marquee, whistled through the air, black-white-and-red, about the ears of the stragglers. Hopeless though everything was, the regimental band continued to play the national anthem, even after the military cordon and the world order had been dispersed. They played like the orchestra on a sinking ship to ward off terror and the inevitable end. Another burst of the hurricane demoralised even them. Diederich closed his eyes, and to his dazed senses the end of every thing seemed imminent. He sank back into the cool depths below the desk, to which he clung like a drowning man to a log. His farewell glance had embraced something that passed all understanding: the fence hung with black-white-and-red, which enclosed the park, had collapsed beneath the weight of the people on it, followed by this clambering up and down, this rolling about, this ebb and fall of people, standing on their heads and getting in one another's way—and then being lashed by whips from above, these streams of fire, this breaking up like the end of a drunken masquerade: nobles and commoners, the most distinguished uniform and the citizen aroused from his slumbers^ pillars of the state and heaven-sent statesmen, ideal riches, hussars, lancers, dragoons and army service corps!

The horsemen of the apocalypse rode on, however, as Diederich noticed. They had only held manoeuvres for the Judg ment Day; the supreme crisis was not yet. With great precautions he left his hiding-place and discovered that it was now only raining, and that Emperor William the Great was still there, with all the paraphernalia of power. All the time Diederich had had a feeling that the monument had been smashed and carried away. The scene of the festivities cer tainly looked like a desolate memory; not a soul stirred amongst the ruins. But, yes, there was some one moving in the background, some one wearing a lancer's uniform. It was Herr von Quitzin, who was examining the house that had collapsed. It had been struck by lightning and was smoking behind the remains of the huge, black partition. In the general exodus only Herr von Quitzin had stood his ground, for an idea had given him strength. Diederich read his mind. Herr von Quitzin was thinking: "We should also have planted that house on those fellows. But nothing could be done, in spite of the strongest pressure. But now I'll get the insurance money. There is a God!" And then he went in the direction of the fire-brigade which could not now intervene with any effect in the matter.

Encouraged by this example Diederich also set out. He had lost his hat, his shoes were full of water, and in the seat of his trousers he carried a puddle with him. As no conveyance seemed to be available he decided to cut through the centre of the town. The corners of the old streets shielded him from the wind and he felt warmer. "There is no danger of catarrh. I'll get Guste to put a poultice on my stomach. If she will only be good enough not to bring influenza into the house!" After this worry he remembered his decoration. "The order of William, created by His Majesty, is given only for exceptional services on behalf of the welfare and improvement of the people. … That's what I've got!" said Diederich out loud in the empty street. "Even if the heavens fall!" Nature had attempted to upset authority with inadequate means. Diederich called upon Heaven to observe his osder of William and said, "Sold again!" Whereupon he pinned it on, beside the order of the Crown, fourth class.

In the Fleischhauergrube several carriages had stopped, curiously enough, in front of old Buck's house. One of them, moreover, was a country cart. Was he by any chance …? Diederich peered into the house. The glass door stood open, strange to say, as if some one were expected who did not often come. A religious quiet prevailed in the wide hall; it was only when he crept past the kitchen that he heard sobbing: the old servant, with her face resting on her arms. "So things are as bad as that!"—Diederich suddenly shuddered and stopped, ready to retreat. "This is no place for me. … Yet, my place is here, for everything here is mine, and it is my duty to see that they do not take anything away afterwards." But this was not the only thing that impelled him. Something less obvious and more profound made him gasp for breath and caught him in the stomach. He stepped carefully up the flat old stairs and thought: "Respect for a brave enemy when he stands on the field of honour! God has judged him. Yes, indeed, such is life. Nobody can tell whether some day— But, come now, there is a difference, either a thing is right or it isn't. One must neglect nothing that can add to the fame of what is right. Our old Emperor probably had also to make an effort when he went to Wilhelmshöhe to meet the utterly defeated Napoleon."

By this time he had reached the mezzanine floor, and he walked cautiously along the lengthy corridor at the end of which the door—here also—stood open. He kept close up against the wall and peeped in. A bed with the foot turned towards him, and in it old Buck was reclining against a heap of pillows, apparently out of his mind. Not a sound. Was he alone? He moved carefully to the other side. Now he could see the curtained windows and, in front of them, the family in a semi-circle. Judith Lauer was sitting motionless, nearest the bed, then Wolfgang, with an expression on his face which nobody would have expected. Between the windows was huddled the herd of five daughters and their bankrupt father, who no longer even preserved outward appearances; further off stood the countrified son and his dull-looking wife, and finally Lauer, who had sat down. With good reason they all kept so quiet, at that moment they were losing their last prospect of ever having a say in anything again! They had been very uppish and very sure of themselves, so long as the old man held out. He had fallen and they with him; he was disappearing and so were all of them. He had always built upon quicksands, for he had not relied upon Power! The spirit was useless, for it left behind it but decay. The delusion of every ambition which had no fists nor money in those fists!

Why did Wolfgang look like that? It did not look like grief, although tears were falling from his yearning eyes; it looked like envy, bitter envy. What was wrong with the others? Judith Lauer, whose brows frowned darkly; her husband who was sighing aloud—even the eldest son's wife had folded in front of her face her working-woman's hands. Diederich stepped into the centre of the doorway in a determined attitude. It was dark in the passage and they could see nothing even if they wanted to; but what of the old man? His face was turned exactly in that direction, and where his eyes were fixed one divined more than was actually there, visions which nobody could obstruct. As they reappeared before his astonished eyes he opened out his arms on the pillows, tried to lift them, and did so, moving them in a gesture of welcome. Who was it? How many were there to whom he made these prolonged signs of welcome? A whole nation, apparently, but of what character, that its coming should awaken this spiritual joy in the countenance of old Buck?

Then he suddenly gave a start, as if he had met a stranger with a message of terror. He was frightened, and struggled for breath. Facing him, Diederich held himself even more stiffly, puffed out his chest with its black-white-and-red sash and its decorations, and glared, on general principles. Suddenly the old man's head dropped; he fell forward, right over, as though he had been broken. His family shrieked. In a horrified whisper the eldest son's wife cried: "He has seen something! He has seen the devil!" Judith Lauer got up slowly and shut the door. Diederich had vanished.