A Refuge Amerika

It seemed to be an outlying suburban street where the taxi stopped, for everything was quiet and children were sitting playing on the edge of the pavement. A man with a pile of old clothes slung over his shoulder kept a watchful eye on the house-windows above him as he cried his wares. Karl was so weary that he felt out of place when he stepped out of the car on to the asphalt, which lay warm and bright in the morning sunshine.

'Is this really where you live?' he called into the taxi.

Robinson, who had slept peacefully during the whole journey, growled an indistinct affirmative and seemed to be waiting for Karl to carry him out.

Then you don’t need me any more. Good-bye,’ said Karl, and started to walk away down the slight slope of the street.

Tut Karl, what on earth are you thinking of?’ cried Robinson, and his anxiety was so great that he stood up in the car fairly straight, except that his knees were somewhat shaky.

I've got to go now,’ said Karl, who had observed Robinson’s speedy recovery.

'In your shirt-sleeves ?’ asked Robinson.

Til soon earn myself another jacket,’ replied Karl, and he I nodded confidently to Robinson, raised his hand in farewell and would have departed in earnest had not the taxi-driver I called out : ‘Just: a moment, sir ! ’

Unfortunately it appeared that the man laid claim to ai supplementary payment, to cover the extra time he had waited in front of the hotel.

'Of course/ cried Robinson from the car, supporting the justice of this demand, 'you kept me waiting such a long time there. You must give him something more,' 'Yes, that's so,' said the taxi-driver.

Tes, if I only had anything to give,' said Karl, searching in his trouser pockets although he knew that it was useless.

‘I have only you to look to,' said the taxi-driver, planting himself squarely before Karl. ‘I can't ask anything from a sick man.'

From the door a young lad with a nose half eaten away drew nearer and stood listening a few paces away. A policeman who was just making his round of the street lowered his head, took a good look at the figure in shirt-sleeves and came to a stop.

Robinson, who had noticed the policeman, made the blunder of shouting to him from the other window of the car: ‘It's nothing, it’s nothing !' as if a policeman could be chased away like a fly. The children, who had been watching the policeman, saw him stop, had their attention drawn to Karl and the taxi-man and came trotting up. In a doorway across the street ah old woman stood stolidly at gaze.

‘Rossmann ! ’ shouted a voice from above them. It was Delamarche standing on the balcony of the top floor. It was difficult to see him against the pale blue sky, but he was obviously wearing a dressing-gown and observing the street through a pair of opera glasses. Beside him there was a big red sunshade, under which a woman seemed to be sitting. ‘Hello!’ he shouted at the very top of his voice, to make himself understood, ‘is Robinson there too?'

‘Yes/ replied Karl, powerfully supported by a second, far louder ‘Yes’ from Robinson in the car. ‘Hello !' Delamarche shouted back, ‘I’m coming at once ! '

'Robinson leaned out of the car. ‘That's a man,' he said, and this praise of Delamarche was directed at Karl, at the driver, at the policeman and anyone else who cared to hear it. Up on the balcony, which they still kept watching absently,

although Delamarche had already left it, from under the sunshade there rose a large figure which proved to be indeed a woman in a loose red gown; she lifted the opera glasses from the ledge of the balcony and gazed through them down at the people below, who began to turn their eyes away from her, though lingeringly. Karl looked at the house-door where Delamarche was to appear, and then right through it into the courtyard, which was being traversed by an almost unbroken line of workmen, each of whom bore on his shoulder a small but obviously very heavy box. The taxi-driver had stepped across to his car and to employ the time was polishing the lamps with a rag. Robinson felt all his limbs, seeming astonished because in spite of the most intent examination he could discover none but trivial aches, and then bent down and cautiously began to undo one of the thick bandages round his leg. The policeman held his black baton at a slant before him and quietly waited with that deep patience which policemen must have, whether they are on ordinary duty or on the watch. The lad with the eaten nose sat down on a doorstep and stretched his legs before him. The children gradually crept nearer to Karl, for although he paid no attention to them, he seemed the most important of all to them because of his blue shirt-sleeves.

By the length of time that elapsed before Delamarche’s arrival one could measure the great height of the house. And Delamarche came in great haste, having stopped merely to tie the cord round his dressing-gown. 'So here you are ! ’ he cried, with both delight and severity in his tone. At each great stride he took his bright-coloured pyjamas could be seen for an instant. Karl could not quite make out how Delamarche could go about in such negligent attire here, in the town, in this huge tenement, on the open street, as if he were in his private villa. There was a big change in Delamarche, as well as in Robinson. His dark, clean-shaven, scrupulously clean face with its rough modelling of muscle looked proud and inspired respect. The hard glitter of his

eyes, which he still kept half-shut, was startling; his violetcoloured dressing-gown was certainly old, spotted and too big for him, but from that squalid garment there emerged at the neck the folded swathes of an enormous scarf of heavy dark silk.

‘Well?’ he asked, addressing everybody. The policeman stepped a little nearer and leaned against the body of the car. Karl gave a brief explanation.

‘Robinson’s a bit wobbly, but he can easily climb the stairs if he tries; the driver here wants something extra besides the fare I have already-paid him. And now I’m going, good day.’

‘You’re not going,’ said Delamarche.

‘I’ve told him that too,’ Robinson announced from the taxi.

‘I’m going all the same,’ said Karl, taking a few steps. But Delamarche was already beside him, forcibly holding him back.

‘I say you’re staying here ! ’ he cried.

‘Let me go,’ said Karl, and he made ready to gain his freedom with his lists if necessary, little hope as he had of downing a man like Delamarche. Yet the policeman was standing by, and the taxi-driver, and the street was not so quiet but that occasional groups of workmen passed through it; would they tolerate it if Delamarche were to mishandle him ? He would not like to be left alone with him in a room, but why not here ? Delamarche was now quietly paying off the taxi-driver, who pocketed the unmerited and substantial addition to his fare with many bows and out of gratitude went up to Robinson and began to consult with him how he was best to be got out of the car. Karl saw that he was unobserved; perhaps Delamarche would mind it less if he just slipped away; it was best to avoid a quarrel if it could be avoided; and so he simply stepped on to the road as the quickest way of getting clear. The children rushed over to Delamarche to let him know that Karl was escaping, but Delamarche had no need to intervene, for the policeman stretched out his baton and said ‘Stop ! ’

‘What’s your name?’ he asked, tucking his baton under his arm and slowly bringing out a notebook. Karl now looked at him carefully for the first time; he was a powerfully built man, but his hair was already almost white.

‘Karl Rossmann,’ he said.

‘Rossmann,’ the policeman echoed him, no doubt simply because he was a quiet and conscientious man, but Karl, who was now having his first encounter with the American police, saw in this repetition of his words a certain mistrust. And indeed his position was probably precarious, for even Robinson, though he was so occupied with his own troubles, was l making dumb imploring gestures from the car to Delamarche, , begging him to help Karl. But Delamarche refused him with i a hasty shake of the head and looked on without doing anything, his hands in the huge pockets of the dressinggown. To a woman who had just come out of the house the: lad on the doorstep explained the whole situation from the: very beginning. The children stood in a half-circle behindl Karl and silently looked up at the policeman.

‘Show your identification papers,’ said the policeman. That! could only be a formal question; for without a jacket one wasi not likely to have many identification papers in one’s pockets*, So Karl remained silent, deciding to answer the next question! fully and so if possible to gloss over his lack of identification papers.

But the next question was: ‘So you have no papers?’ And Karl had to answer : ‘Not with me.’

‘But that’s bad,’ said the policeman, looking thoughtfully around him and tapping with two fingers on the cover of hi^. notebook. ‘Have you an occupation?' he asked at last.

‘I was a lift-boy,’ said Karl.

Tou were a lift-boy, so you aren’t one any longer; and in that case what are you living on now ? ’

‘I’m going to look out for another job.’

‘I see; have you just been dismissed?’

‘Yes, an hour ago.’

‘Suddenly?’

Tes,' said Karl, raising his hand as in apology. He could not tell the whole story here, and even if that had been possible, it seemed quite hopeless to think of averting a threatened injury by the recital of injuries already suffered And if he had not been able to get his rights when faced by the kindness of the Manageress and the insight of the Head Waiter, he certainly could not expect to get them from the company gathered here in the street.

‘And you were dismissed without your jacket?’ asked the policeman.

‘Why, yes,' said Karl; so in America too it was the habit of authorities to ask questions about what they could see for themselves. (How exasperated his father had been over the pointless inquiries of the officials when he was getting Karl’s passport!) Karl felt like running and hiding himself somewhere, if only to escape answering any more questions. And now the policeman put the very question which he feared most of all and which he had been so uneasily expecting that very likely he had behaved with less prudence than he might have done.

‘In what hotel were you employed?’

Karl sank his head and did not reply; that was the last question he was prepared to answer. It simply must not happen for him to be escorted by a policeman to the Hotel Occidental again, to start investigations there into which his friends and enemies would all be drawn, to have the Manageress’s wavering faith in him completely undermined, should the boy whom she thought was in the Pension Brenner turn up in the custody of a policeman, in his shirt-sleeves, without the card she had given him; while the Head Waiter i would probably nod comprehendingly and the Head Porter mention the Hand of God which had at last caught the evil-doer.

‘He was employed in the Hotel Occidental,' said Delamarche, stepping over to the policeman.

'No/ shouted Karl, stamping his foot, 'that isn't true! I Delamarche surveyed him with his lips pursed in mockery as if there were many things he could divulge. Among th« children Karl s unexpected agitation produced great excite ment, and they lined up beside Delamarche to get a bette: look at Karl. Robinson had stuck his head completely out o the car; he was so intent that he did not move except for ar: occasional flicker of the eyelids. The boy on the doorste clapped his hands with delight; the woman beside him gav< him a nudge with her elbow to keep him quiet. The porters ir the courtyard had just stopped for breakfast and appeared ii a bunch with great cans of black coffee, which they kep stirring with long rolls of bread. Several sat down on the edg^ of the pavement, and they all gulped down their coffee ver loudly.

'You know this lad?' the policeman asked Delamarche.

'Better than I have a mind to,' said Delamarche. 'I hav done him much kindness in my time, and he gave me litd{ thanks for it, as you can probably imagine, even after thi short encounter you've had with him,' 'Yes,' said the policeman, 'he seems to be a hardened yourn rascal,' 'He is all that,' said Delamarche, 'but even that isn't thi worst thing about him.'

'Is that so?' said the policeman.

'Oh,' said Delamarche, who was now warming to hi I theme and swinging his dressing-gown to and fro with hi hands in the pockets, ‘he's a fine bird, this fellow. I and nr friend there in the car once picked him up when he wa down and out, he had no idea at that time of American con ditions, he had just come from Europe, where they had n«i use for him either; well, we took him with us, let him liv with us, explained things to him and tried to get him a job thinking in spite of everything that we’d make a decen human being out of him, and in the end he did the disappear ing trick one night, simply vanished, and in circumstance

I’d rather not mention now. Is that true or not? asked Delamarche in conclusion, plucking at Karls shirtsleeve.

‘Back there, you children ! ’ shouted the policeman, for the children had pressed forward so far that Delamarche had almost stumbled over one of them. Meanwhile the porters, discovering that this cross-examination was more interesting than they had suspected, began to pay some heed to it and gathered in a close ring behind Karl, so that he could not retreat even by a step and had to suffer, too, at his very ear the incessant . chatter of these same portefs, who babbled rather than spoke in a quite incomprehensible jargon which was perhaps broken English interspersed with Slavonic words.

Thanks for the information,' said the policeman, saluting Delamarche. ‘In any case I’ll take him with me and hand him back to the Hotel Occidental/

But Delamarche said : ‘May I ask you as a favour to leave the boy with me for the time being; I have some business to settle with him. I promise you that I’ll personally take him back to the hotel afterwards/

‘I can’t do that,' said the policeman.

Delamarche said : ‘Here is my card/ and handed him the card.

The policeman looked at it respectfully, but said with a polite smile : ‘No, it can’t be done/

Much as Karl had been on his guard against Delamarche hitherto, he saw in him now his only possible salvation. The way he was haggling with the policeman was certainly suspicious, but in any case Delamarche would be more easily induced than the policeman not to deliver him to the hotel. And even if he were brought back to the hotel by Delamarche, it would not be nearly so bad as to be escorted there by a policeman. For the moment, of fourse, he must not let it be seen that he really wanted to stay with Delamarche, or all was lost. And with an uneasy feeling he watched the

policeman's hand, which might rise at any moment to seize I him.

'I must at least find out why he was suddenly dismissed,' said the policeman at last, while Delamarche looked away with an offended air and twisted the card between his, finger-tips.

'But he isn't dismissed at all !' cried Robinson to everyone's surprise, leaning out of the taxi as far as he could reach, with i one hand on the driver’s shoulder. Tar from it; he has a very; good job there. He's the head boy in the dormitory and can take anyone in there that he likes. Only he’s terribly busy, and if you want to ask him for anything you have to waid for a long time. He’s always in conference with the Hea# Waiter and the Manageress; his post is a confidential one. He’s certainly not dismissed. I don’t know why he said he was. How can he be dismissed? I got badly hurt in the hotel, and he had instructions to take me home, and since he wasn’t! wearing his jacket at the time he just came without it. 1 couldn’t wait until he fetched his jacket.’

'Well now,' said Delamarche, spreading out his arms, in a tone which reproached the policeman for his lack of discern-! ment; and these two words of his seemed to bring an incomi testable clarity into the vagueness of Robinson’s statement!

'But is this true?’ asked the policeman, already weakening ‘And if it is true, why does the boy give out that he W dismissed?’

'You’d better tell him,' said Delamarche.

Karl looked at the policeman whose task it was to keep] order here among strangers thinking only of their own advantage, and he had some intuition of the man’s difficulties) That made him unwilling to tell a he, so he kept his hand: tightly clasped behind his back.

In the house-door an overseer appeared and clapped hii hands as a signal that the porters should go back to work again. They shook the grounds out of their coffee cans and falling silent, drifted reluctantly through the doorway.

"We’ll never come to a conclusion this way,' said the policeman, and he made to seize Karl by the arm. Karl involuntarily recoiled a little, became conscious of the free space at his back which the porters’ departure had left open, turned about and with a few great bounds for a start set off at full speed. The children let out a single yell and with outstretched arms ran a few steps along with him.

"Stop him ! ’ the policeman shouted down the long, almost empty street, and shouting this cry at regular intervals set out after Karl at an easy run which showed both great strength and practice. It was lucky for Karl that the chase took place in a working-class quarter. The workers had no liking for the authorities. Karl stuck to the middle of the road because there were fewer obstacles there, and he saw occasional workers calmly halting on the pavement to watch him while the policeman shouted "Stop him!’ and kept pointing his baton at him as he ran a parallel course, keeping shrewdly to the smooth pavement. Karl had very little hope and almost lost that altogether when the policeman, as they were nearing some cross-streets where there were sure to be police patrols, began to blow really deafening blasts on his whistle. Karl’s only advantage was his light attire; he flew, or rather plunged, down the street, which sloped more and more steeply; but confused by his lack of sleep he often made useless bounds, too high in the air and a vain waste of precious time. Besides, the policeman had his objective before his eyes and had no time to think, whereas Karl had to think first and attend to his running only in the intervals between weighing possibilities and making decisions. His plan, a somewhat desperate one, was to avoid the cross-streets for the time being, since he did not know what they concealed, perhaps for instance he might run straight into a police station; he wanted as long as possible to keep to this main thoroughfare which he could survey jrom end to end, since it did not terminate until'far below, in a bridge vanishing suddenly into a haze of mist and sunshine in mid-air. Acting

on this decision, he was just putting on a faster spurt so as tc pass the first cross-street in a flash, when he saw not very fa . in front of him a policeman lurking watchfully by the dark wall of a house in shadow, ready to spring out on him at tht right moment. There was nothing for it but to turn into tht cross-street, and when from that very street someone gently called him by name - he thought it was a delusion at first) for there had been a ringing in his ears all the time - ht hesitated no longer and made an abrupt turn, to take tin police as much as possible by surprise, swinging round at : right-angle on one foot into the cross-street.

He had taken only two strides - he had already forgotten that someone had called his name, for the second policeman was now blowing his whistle too, obviously fresh and un winded, and distant pedestrians ahead of him in the crossi street seemed to be quickening their steps — when an am darting out from a little doorway seized him and he wa drawn into a dark entry, while a voice said: ‘Don't move I It was Delamarche, quite out of breath, his face flushed, hi i hair sticking damply to his head. He was clad only in hi i shirt and drawers, his dressing-gown tucked under his arm The door, which was not a main door but only an incon spicuous side door, he shut and locked at once.

‘Wait a minute,' he said, leaning against the wall an^ breathing heavily with his head thrown back. Karl, almosi lyine in his arms and hardly knowing what he was doint pressed his face against his breast.

‘There they go,' said Delamarche, listening intently an pointing with his finger at the door. The two policemen were really running past, their feet ringing in the emptl street like the striking of steel against stone.

‘You've been fairly put through it,' said Delamarche M Karl, who was still panting for breath and could not brin out a word. Delamarche laid him cautiously on the floo^ knelt down beside him, passed a hand several times over h: brow and regarded him.

I’m all right now,' said Karl, painfully getting up.

Then let’s go,' said Delamarche, who had put on his dressing-gown again, and he pushed Karl, whose head still drooped with weariness, before him, giving him an occasional shake to liven him up.

Tou say you’re tired?’ he said. Tou had the whole street to career about in like a horse, but I had to double through these accursed passages and courtyards. It’s a good thing that I’m a bit of a runner too.’ In his pride he gave Karl a mighty thump on the back. ‘A race with the police like this now and then is good practice/

‘I was dog-tired before I began running,' said Karl.

There’s no excuse for bad running,' said Delamarche. 'If it hadn’t been for me they would have nabbed you long since/

‘I think so too,' said Karl. I'm much obliged to you,' 'No doubt of that,' said Delamarche.

They went through a long narrow ground-floor lobby which was paved with dark, smooth flagstones. Here and there to right and left a staircase opened out, or a passage giving on a more spacious hall-way. Scarcely any grown people were to be seen, but children were playing on the empty stairs. Beside a stair-railing a little girl was standing weeping so hard that her whole face glistened with tears. As soon as she caught sight of Delamarche she rushed up the stairs, gasping for air, her mouth wide open, and was not reassured until she was quite high up, after looking over her shoulder time and again to make certain that no one was chasing her or likely to chase her.

T ran her down a minute ago’ said Delamarche laughing, and he flourished his fist at her, whereupon she rushed up still farther, screaming.

The courtyards they threaded were also almost completely forsaken. An occasional porter pushed a two-wheeled handbarrow before him, a woman was^ filling a bucket with water at a pump, a postman was quietly making his round, an old man with a white moustache sat before a glass door

smoking a pipe with his legs crossed, crates were being unloaded before a dispatch agency while the idle horses imperturbably turned their heads from side to side and ai man in overalls supervised the proceedings with a paper in his hand; behind the open window of an office a clerk, sitting at his desk, raised his head and looked thoughtfully, out just as Karl and Delamarche went past.

This is as quiet a place as you could wish for,' said Delamarche. ‘In the evening it’s pretty noisy for an hour on two, but all day long it’s ideal.’ Karl nodded; it seemed a good deal too quiet for him. ‘I couldn’t live anywhere else,' said; Delamarche, ‘for Brunelda simply can’t stand any noise. Dc you know Brunelda? Well, you’ll soon see her. Take my, advice anyhow, and keep as quiet as you can/

When they reached the stairway which led up to Dela marche’s flat, the taxi had already gone and the boy with the half-eaten nose announced, without showing any surprise ai Karl’s reappearance, that he had lugged Robinson upstairs 3 Delamarche only nodded to him, as if he were a servant whc^ had merely done his duty, and then drew Karl, who hesitated a moment and gazed out at the sunny street, up the stair?; with him. ‘We’ll soon be there,' said Delamarche several times during the ascent, but his prophecy was tardy in fulfilling itself, for there was always another stair ahead o them, with a barely perceptible change in direction. Once Karl actually had to stop, not from weariness but from help lessness in face of such a length of stairs. ‘The flat’s very high up,' said Delamarche, as they went on, ‘but that has it; advantages too. We’re not tempted to go out much, we loung* about in our dressing-gowns all day, it’s very comfortable Of course, no visitors ever come up so far either/

‘And what visitors could they have?’ thought Karl.

At last on a landing they caught sight of Robinson outside a closed door, and now they had arrived; the stairs were no at an end yet, but went on farther in the semi-darkneswithout any indication that an end was even in sight.

T thought so ! ’ said Robinson in a muted voice as if he were still suffering pain, ‘Delamarche has brought him ! Rossmann, where would you be without Delamarche!’ Robinson was standing in his underclothes, scantily wrapped in the small blanket he had been given at the Hotel Occidental; there was no visible reason why he did not go into the flat instead of standing here as a laughing-stock for any chance passer-by.

‘Is she asleep ? ’ asked Delamarche.

‘I don’t think so,’ said Robinson, ‘but I thought it better to wait till you came.'

‘We must see first whether she’s sleeping,’ said Delamarche, bending down to the keyhole. After he had peered through it a long time, turning his head this way and that, he got up and said : ‘I can’t see her clearly; the curtain’s drawn. She’s sitting on the couch but she may be asleep.’

‘Why, is she ill ? ’ asked Karl, for Delamarche was standing there as if at a loss for advice.

But he retorted in a sharp enough voice : ‘Ill?’

‘He doesn’t know her,’ said Robinson, in extenuation.

A few doors farther on two women stepped out into the passage; they wiped their hands on their aprons, eyeing Delamarche and Robinson, and seemed to be talking about them. A young girl with gleaming fair hair bounded out of a door and squeezed between the two women, hanging on to their arms.

‘These are disgusting women,’ said Delamarche, lowering his voice, it was evident, only out of consideration for the slumbering Brunelda, ‘sooner or later I’ll report them to the police and then I’ll be rid of them for years. Don’t look their way,’ he snapped at Karl. But Karl had not seen any harm in looking at the women, since in any case he had to stand in the passage waiting for Brunelda to waken. And he shook his head angrily, as if he refused to take any admonitions from Delamarche, and he' had just begun walking towards the women to make his meaning clearer, when Robinson

caught him by the sleeve with the words: ‘Rossmann, take care !’ while Delamarche, already exasperated, was roused to I such fury by a loud burst of laughter from the girl that whirling his arms and legs he made a great spring at the s women, who vanished into their doors as if they had beeni blown away. That’s how I have often to clear the passages/ remarked Delamarche, strolling back again; then he remem- - bered that Karl had been refractory and said: ‘But I expect I very different behaviour from you, or else you’re likely to come up against me/

Then from the room a gentle voice queried in a tired tone: Ts that Delamarche?’

Tes/ answered Delamarche, looking tenderly at the door,, ‘may we come in?’

‘Oh yes/ was the answer, and after casting one more glance at the two standing behind him, Delamarche slowly opened the door.

They stepped into complete darkness. The curtain before: the balcony door - there was no window - was completely drawn and let very little light through; but the fact that the room was crammed with furniture and clothes hanging everywhere contributed greatly to make it darker. The airi was musty and one could literally smell the dust which had gathered here in corners apparently beyond the reach of any. hand. The first things that Karl noticed on entering were three trunks, set just behind one another.

On the couch was lying the woman who had been looking, down earlier from the balcony. The red gown had got rumpled a little beneath her and hung in a great peak to the: floor; her legs could be seen almost as far as the knee; she wa^i wearing thick white woollen stockings; she had no shoes.

‘How hot it is, Delamarche,’ she said, turning her facci from the wall and languidly extending her hand in the< direction of Delamarche, who seized it and kissed it. Kar could see only her double chin, which rolled in sympathy with the turning of her head.

Would you like me to open the curtain?' asked Delamarche.

‘Oh, not that,' she said as if in despair, shutting her eyes, ‘that would only make it worse/

Karl had gone up to the foot of the couch so as to see the woman better; he was surprised at her lamentations, for the heat was nothing out of the common.

Wait, I'll make you a little more comfortable,' said Delamarche anxiously, and he undid a few buttons at her neck and pulled her dress open at the throat so that part of her breast was laid bare and the soft, yellowish lace border of her chemise appeared.

‘Who is that,' said the woman suddenly, pointing a finger at Karl, ‘why does he stare at me so hard ? '

Tou’re being a great help, aren’t you?’ said Delamarche, pushing Karl aside, while he reassured the woman with the words: ‘It’s only the boy I’ve brought with me to attend on you.’

‘But I don’t want anyone ! ’ she cried. Why do you bring strange people into the house?'

'But you’ve always been asking for someone to attend to you,’ said Delamarche, kneeling down on the floor, for there was no room whatever on the couch beside Brunelda, in spite of its great breadth.

‘Ah, Delamarche,' she said, ‘you don’t understand me, you don’t understand me at all.’

‘Then, all right, I don’t understand you,' said Delamarche, taking her face between his hands. ‘But it doesn’t really matter; he can go at once, if you like.'

‘Since he is here, he can stay,’ she said now, and tired as he was, Karl felt so grateful for these words, though they probably were not kindly meant, that still vaguely thinking of- those endless stairs which he might have had to descend again, he stepped over Robinson, %now peacefully asleep on his blanket, and said; in spite of Delamarche’s angry gesticulations:

1 thank you anyway, for letting me stay here a little longer. I've had no sleep for twenty-four hours and I’ve done a lot of things and been rather upset. I’m terribly tired. I hardly know where I am. But after I have slept an hour or two you can pack me off straight away and I'll go gladly.'

‘You can stay here as long as you like,' said the woman, adding ironically : 'We have more than room enough here, as you see.'

Then, you’d better go,' said Delamarche, ‘we haven’t any use for you.'

‘No, let him stay,' said the woman, this time in earnest.

And Delamarche said to Karl as if in obedience to her words : ‘Well then, go and lie down somewhere.'

‘He can he down on the curtains, but he must take off his shoes, to keep from tearing them.'

Delamarche showed Karl the place she meant. Between the door and the three trunks a great pile of the most multifarious window curtains had been flung. Had they all been methodically folded, with the heavy ones below and the light ones on top, and had the curtain rods and wooden rings scattered through the pile been taken out, they might have made a tolerable couch, but as it was they made merely a tottering, unstable heap on which, however, Karl lay down at once, for he was too tired to make any particular preparations for sleeping and had also to guard against standing on too much ceremony with his host and hostess.

He had almost fallen into a genuine sleep when he heard a loud cry and started up to see Brunelda sitting erect on the couch, opening her arms wide and flinging them round Delamarche, who was kneeling before her. Karl, shocked at the sight, lay back again and curled up among the curtains to continue his sleep. That he would not be able to endure this place for two days seemed clear enough to him; yet it was all the more necessary to have a thorough sleep to begin with, so that he might have his wits about him and be able to decide quickly on the right course of action.

But Brunelda had been aware of Karl's eyes, big with fatigue, which had startled her once already, and she cried: ‘Delamarche, I can't bear this heat, I'm burning, I must take off my clothes, I must have a bath; send the two of them out of the room, wherever you like, into the passage, on to the balcony, so long as they are out of my sight ! Here I am in my own home and yet I can't get any peace. If I were only alone with you, Delamarche ! Oh God, they’re still here I Look at that shameless Robinson sprawling about in his underclothes in the presence of a lady. And look at that boy, that stranger, who has just been staring savagely at me, how he is pretending to lie down again to fool me. Turn them out, Delamarche, they're a burden on me, they're a weight on my breast; if I die now it will be their fault.’

‘Out you get at once, out of here!' said Delamarche, advancing on Robinson and stirring him up with one foot, which he put on his chest. Then he shouted to Karl : ‘Rossmann, get up ! Out on the balcony, both of you ! And it’ll be your funeral if you come in here before you're called ! Now look slippy, Robinson’ - at this he kicked Robinson more violently - ‘and you, Rossmann, look out or I'll come and attend to you too,' and he clapped his hands loudly twice.

‘How long you're taking !' cried Brunelda from the sofa; she had spread her legs wide where she sat so as to get more room for her disproportionately fat body; only with the greatest effort gasping and frequently pausing to recover her breath, could she bend far enough forward to catch hold of her stockings at the top and pull them down a little; she could not possibly take off her own clothes; Delamarche would have to do that, and she was now impatiently waiting for him.

Quite dazed with weariness, Karl crept down from the heap of curtains and trailed slowly to the balcony door; a piece of curtain material had wrapped itself round his foot and he dragged it indifferently with him. In his distraction he actually said as he passed Brunelda: ‘I wish you good

night/ and then wandered past Delamarche, who was drawing aside the curtain of the balcony door, and went out on to the balcony. Immediately behind him came Robinson, who seemed to be equally sleep-sodden, for he was muttering to himself : ‘Always being ill-treated ! If Brunelda doesn’t come too I’m not going on to the balcony.' But in spite of this pronouncement he went out meekly enough on the balcony, where, as Karl had already subsided into the easy-chair, he immediately bedded himself on the stone floor.

When Karl awoke it was evening, the stars were already out and behind the tall houses on the other side of the street the moon was rising. Not until he had surveyed the unknown neighbourhood for a little and taken a few breaths of the cool, reviving air did Karl realize where he was. How imprudent he had been; he had neglected all the counsels of the Manageress, all Therese’s warnings, all his own fears;; here he was sitting calmly on Delamarche’s balcony, where i he had slept for half a day as if Delamarche, his mortal! enemy, were not just on the other side of the curtain. Robinson, that lazy good-for-nothing, was sprawling on the floor and tugging him by the foot; he seemed indeed to have? wakened him in this manner, for he was saying : ‘How you.] can sleep, Rossmann ! That’s what it is to be young and] carefree. How long do you want to go on sleeping ? I’d have let you go on sleeping, but in the first place I’m bored with lying on the floor, and in the second place I'm terribly* hungry. Come on, get up for a minute, I’ve got somethings hidden under your chair, something to eat, and I want to get! it out, I’ll give you some too.’ And Karl, getting up, looked on while Robinson, without getting up, rolled over on his belly and reached under the chair to pull out a sort of silveri salver such as is used for holding visiting-cards. On the salven lay one half of a quite black sausage, a few thin cigarettes an open sardine tin still nearly full and dripping with oil and a number of sweets, most of them squashed into a mass \ Then appeared a big hunk of bread and a kind of perfume

bottle, which seemed to contain something else than perfume, however, for Robinson displayed it with particular satisfaction, licking his lips and looking up at Karl.

‘You see, Rossman,' said Robinson, while he devoured sardine after sardine and now and then wiped the oil off his hands with a woollen scarf which Brunelda had apparently forgotten on the balcony, ‘you see, Rossmann, that's what you need to do if you don't want to starve. I tell you. I’m just kicked out of the way. And if you're always treated like a dog, you begin to think that you’re actually one. A good thing you’re here,- Rossmann; I have at least someone to talk to. Nobody in the building speaks to me. They hate us. And all because of Brunelda. She’s a marvellous woman, of course. I say,' - and he gave Karl a sign to bend down, so that he might whisper to him - T once saw her naked. Oh' - and in the memory of that pleasure he began to pinch and slap Karl’s leg until Karl shouted : ‘Robinson, you’re mad ! ’ and forcibly pushed his hand away.

‘You’re still only a child, Rossmann,' said Robinson, and from under his shirt he pulled out a dagger that he wore on a cord round his neck, removed the sheath and began to slice up the hard sausage. Tou've still a lot to learn. But you’ve come to the right place to learn things. Do sit down. Won’t you have something to eat too? Well, maybe you’ll get an appetite* watching me. You don't want a drink, either? So you don’t want anything at all. And you’re not much inclined to talk, either. But I don’t care who’s on the balcony with me, so long as there’s somebody. For I'm often out on the balcony.. It’s great fun for Brunelda. She only has to get an idea in her head that she’s too cold, that she's too hot, that she wants to sleep, that she wants to comb her hair, that she wants to loosen her corset, that she wants to put it on, and then she has me sent on the balcony. Sometimes she actually does what she says, but mostly she just lies on the couch the same as before and never moves. I used sometimes to draw the curtain a little and peep through, but once Delamarche

- 1 know quite well that he didn't want to do it and only did it because Brunelda told him to — but once Delamarche on one of these occasions struck me across the face several times with the whip - can you see the marks? - and since then I haven’t dared to peep again. And so I just lie here on the balcony and have nothing to do but eat. The night before last, as I lay up here alone all evening, I still had on the fine clothes which I had the bad luck to lose in your hotel - the : swine, tearing a man's expensive clothes off his back - well, as I lay alone and looked down through the railings, everything seemed so miserable that I began to blubber. But it just happened, without my noticing it, that Brunelda had come out here in her red gown - that suits her far the best of them all - and she looked at me for a little while and said : “Robinson, what are you crying for?" Then she lifted up her skirt: and wiped my eyes with the hem. Who knows what more: she might have done if Delamarche hadn’t called her and she; hadn’t had to go back into the room again at once. I thought,, of course, that it was my turn next, and I asked through the: curtain if I couldn’t come in. And what do you think: Brunelda said? “No I" said she, and “what are you thinking: of ! ’’ said she.'

‘But why do you stay here if they treat you like that?' asked Karl.

‘Excuse me, Rossmann, but that's a stupid question,’ replied Robinson. ‘You’ll stay here too, even if they treat you still worse. Besides, they don’t treat me so very badly.'

‘No,' said Karl, ‘I’m certainly going away, and this very) evening if possible. I’m not going to stay with you.’

‘And how, for instance, will you manage to get away tonight?' asked Robinson, who was digging out the soT inside of the loaf and carefully dipping it into the oil in thc sardine box. ‘How are you going to leave when you mustn’ even go into the room ? ’

‘And why shouldn’t I go into the room ? '

‘Because, until we’re rung for, we can’t go in,' said Robin j

son, opening his mouth to its full extent and devouring the oily bread, while in the hollow of one hand he caught the oil that dripped from it, making a kind of reservoir in which he dipped the rest of the bread from time to time. ‘Things are much stricter now. At first there was only a thin curtain; you couldn’t actually see through it, but in the evenings you could watch their shadows on it. But Brunelda didn’t like that, and so I had to turn one of her evening cloaks into a curtain and hang it up instead of the old one. Now you can see nothing at all. Then at one time I could always ask whether I might go in and they used to say yes or no accordingly; but I suppose I took too much advantage of that and asked once too often. Brunelda couldn’t bear it - and although she’s so fat she’s very delicate, she often has headaches and almost always gout in her legs - and so it was decided that I mustn’t ask any more, but that I could go in whenever the table bell was rung. That rings so loudly that it can waken even me out of my sleep - I once had a cat here to cheer me up, but she was so scared at the bell that she ran away and never came back again; it hasn’t rung today yet, you see, for when it does ring, I’m not only allowed to go in, I have to go in - and when such a long time goes by without ringing, it can take a good while before the bell rings again/

‘Yes,’ said Karl, ‘but what applies to you needn’t apply to me at all. Besides, that kind of thing only applies to those who put up with it/

‘But/ cried Robinson, ‘why shouldn’t it apply to you as well? Of course it applies to you, too. You’d better stay quietly here with me until the bell rings. Then of course you can at least try to get away/

‘What is it really that keeps you here? Simply Delamarche is your friend, or rather was your friend. Do you call this a life? Wouldn’t it be better for you in Butterford, where you wanted to go first? Or even in California, where you have friends?’

‘Well,’ said Robinson, ‘nobody could have told that this

was going to happen,' And before continuing, he said : To your good health, my dear Rossmann/ and took a long pull at the perfume bottle. ‘We were hard up against it that time when you let us down so meanly. We could get no work at all the first day or two; besides, Delamarche didn’t want work, he could easily have got it, but he always sent me to look for it instead, and I never have any luck. He just loafed around, but by the evening all he brought back with him was a lady’s handbag. It was fine enough, made of pearls; he gave it to Brunelda later, but there was almost nothing in it. Then he said we’d better try begging at the doors - you can always pick up something or other that way; so we went begging and I sang in front of the houses to make it look better. And it was just like Delamarche’s luck, for we had only been a minute or two at the second door, a very grand flat on the ground floor, and sung a couple of songs to the cook and the butler, when the lady the flat belonged to, Brunelda herself, came up the front steps. Maybe she was too tightly laced; anyhow she couldn’t get up to the top of these steps. But how lovely she looked, Rossmann ! She was wearing a white dress with a red sunshade. You felt you could eat her. You felt you could drink her up. God, God, she was lovely. What a woman ! Tell me yourself, how can such a woman be - possible? Of course the cook and the butler rushed down to her at once and almost carried her up. We stood on either ‘ side of the door and raised our hats, as people do here. She stopped for a little, for she hadn’t quite got her breath back, and I don’t know how it actually happened, I was so hungry I didn’t know quite what I was doing, and close at hand shei was even handsomer, so broad and yet so firm everywhere! because of the special stays she had on - I can let you seel them in the trunk; well, I couldn’t help touching her back,, but quite lightly, you know, just a touch. Of course it’si a shocking thing for a beggar to touch a rich lady. I only just touched her, but after all I did touch her. Who knows where: it might have ended if Delamarche hadn’t given me a clip!

on the ear, and such a clip that both my hands flew to my own face.’

‘What things to do ! ' said Karl, quite absorbed in the story, and he sat down on the floor. ‘So that was Brunelda?,

‘Yes,’ said Robinson, ‘that was Brunelda.’

‘Didn’t you say once that she was a singer?’ asked Karl.

‘Certainly she is a singer, and a great singer,’ replied Robinson, who was rolling a sticky mass of sweetmeats on his tongue and now and then pushing back with his finger some piece that had got crowded out of his mouth. ‘Of course we didn’t know that at the time; we only saw that she was a rich and very fine lady. She behaved as if nothing had happened, and perhaps she hadn’t felt anything, for I had touched her really only with the tips of my fingers. But she kept looking at Delamarche, who stared back straight into her eyes - he usually hits it off like that. Then she said to him: “Come inside for a little/’ and pointed with her sunshade into the house, and Delamarche had to go in front of her. Then the two of them went in and the servants shut the door after them. As for me, I was left forgotten outside, and since I thought it wouldn’t be for very long, I sat down on the steps to wait for Delamarche. But instead of Delamarche the butler came out bringing me a whole bowl of soup. “A compliment from Delamarche ! ” I told myself. The man stood beside me for a time while I ate and told me some things about Brunelda, and then I saw how important this visit might be for us. For Brunelda had divorced her husband, was very wealthy and completely independent \ Her ex-husband, a cocoa manufacturer, was still in love with her, to be sure, but she refused to have anything whatever to do with him. He often called at the flat, always dressed in great style as if he were going to a wedding - that’s true, word for word, I kiiow the man myself - but in spite of the huge tips he got, the butler never dared to ask Brunelda whether she would receive her husband, for he had asked her before once or twice, and she had always picked up anything she had handy

and thrown it at his head. Once she even flung her big hotwater bottle at him and knocked out one of his front teeth. Yes, Rossmann, you may well stare ! ’

'How do you come to know the husband?’ asked Karl.

'He often comes up here,’ said Robinson.

'Here?’ In his astonishment Karl struck the floor lightly with his hand.

'You may well be surprised/ Robinson went on, 1 was surprised myself when the butler stood there telling me all this. Just think, whenever Brunelda was out, the husband always asked the butler to take him to her room, and he always took away some trifle or other as a keepsake and left something rare and expensive for Brunelda in return and strictly forbade the butler to say who had left it. But once - the servant swears it and I believe it - when he left an absolutely priceless piece of porcelain, Brunelda must have recognized it somehow, for she flung it on the floor at once, stamped upon it, spat on it and did other things to it as well, so that the servant could hardly carry it away for disgust,' 'But what had her husband done to her?’ asked Karl.

'I really don’t know,' said Robinson. 'But I think it wasn’t anything very serious, at least he himself doesn’t know. I have often talked to him about it. I have an appointment with him every day at the corner of the street over there; if I can come, I have always to tell him the latest news; if I can’t come, he waits for half an hour and then goes away again. It was a nice extra for me at first, for he paid like ai gentleman for the news, but after Delamarche came to knowof it I had to hand over the money to him, and so I don’t go down there so often now,' 'But what’s the man after?’ asked Karl. 'What on earth is he after? He surely knows that she doesn’t want him,' 'Yes/ sighed Robinson, lighting a cigarette and fanning the smoke high in the air with great sweeps of his arm. Ther he seemed to change his attitude and said: ‘What does tha

matter to me? All I know is that he would give a lot of money to be able to lie here on the balcony like us/

Karl got up, leant against the railing and looked down into the street. The moon was already visible, but its light did not yet penetrate into the depths of the street. Though it had been so empty during the day, the street was now crowded with people, particularly before the house doors; they were all drifting along slowly and heavily, the shirt-sleeves of the men and the light dresses of the women standing out faintly against the darkness; they were all bareheaded. The various balconies round 'about were now fully occupied; whole families were sitting there by the light of electric lamps, either round small tables, if the balcony were big enough, or in a single row of armchairs or merely sticking their heads out of their living-rooms. The men sat at ease with their legs stretched out, their feet between the bars of the railing, reading newspapers wdiich extended almost to the floor, or playing cards, apparently without speaking but to the accompaniment of loud bangs on the table; the women’s laps were full of sewing-work, and they had nothing but a brief glance now and then fcr their surroundings or the street below. A fair, delicate woman on the next balcony kept on yawning, * turning her eyes up and raising to her mouth a piece of underwear which she was mending; even on the smallest balconies the children managed to chase each other round and make themselves a nuisance to their parents. Inside many of the rooms gramophones could be heard grinding out songs or orchestral music; nobody paid any particular attention to this music, except that now and then the father of a family would give a sign and someone would hurry into the room to put on a new record. At some of the windows could be seen loving couples standing quite motionless; one of these couples was standing at a window opposite; the young man had his arm round the girl and was squeezing her waist.

‘Do you know any of your neighbours here?’ Karl asked

Robinson, who had now also got to his feet, and feeling cold had huddled himself into Brunelda’s wrap as well as his blanket

‘Hardly one of them, that's the worst of my situation,' said Robinson, and he pulled Karl closer so as to whisper in his ear, ‘or else I wouldn't have much to complain about at the moment. Brunelda has sold everything she had for the sake of Delamarche, and has moved with all she possesses into this suburban flat in order to devote herself entirely to him with, nobody to disturb her; besides, that was what Delamarche wanted too.'

‘And she has dismissed her servants?' asked Karl.

‘That's so,' said Robinson. ‘Where could you find accommodation for servants here? Servants like that expect the best of everything. In Brunelda’s old flat Delamarche once simply kicked one of these pampered creatures out of the room, he just went on kicking him until the man was outside. The other servants of course took the man's side and staged a row before the door; then Delamarche went out (I wasn't a servant then, but a friend of the family, yet I was outside among the servants all the same) and asked : “What do you want?" The oldest servant a man called Isidor, told him: “You have nothing to do with us; we are engaged by the mistress." I suppose you notice that they had a great respect for Brunelda. But Brunelda paid no attention to them and ran up to Delamarche - she wasn't so heavy then as she is now - and embraced and kissed him before them all and called him “darling Delamarche". And then she said : “Now send these fools away." Fools - that’s what she called the servants; you can imagine the expression on their faces. Then Brunelda took Delamarche's hand and drew it down to the purse she i wore at her belt; Delamarche put in his hand and began to i pay off the servants; Brunelda did nothing but stand there with the open purse at her waist. Delamarche had to put his hand in over and over again, for he paid out the money without counting it and without checking their claims. At

last he said : “Since you won't have anything to do with me, I'll only say in Brunelda’s name : Get out, this instant.” So they were dismissed; there were some legal proceedings afterwards, Delamarche had actually to go once to court, but I don't know much more about it. Except that as soon as the servants had. gone Delamarche said to Brunelda: “So now you have no servants.” And she said : “But there’s still Robinson.” So Delamarche clapped me on the shoulder and said: “Very well, then, you’ll be our servant.” And then Brunelda patted me on the cheek. If you ever get a chance, Rossmann, you should get her to pat you on the cheek some time. You’ll be surprised how lovely it feels.'

‘So you’ve turned into Delamarche’s servant, have you?' said Karl, summing up.

Robinson heard the pity in his voice and answered : ‘I may be a servant, but very few people know about it. You see, you didn’t know it yourself, although you’ve been here quite a while. Why, you saw how I was dressed last night in the hotel. I had on the finest of fine clothes. Are servants dressed like that? The only thing is that I can’t leave here very often, I must always be at hand, there’s always something to do in the flat. One man isn’t really enough for all the work. You may have noticed that we have a lot of things standing about in the room; what we couldn’t sell at the removal we took with us here. Of course it could have been given away, but Brunelda gives nothing away. You can imagine what it meant to carry these things up the stairs.'

‘Robinson, did you carry all these things up here?' cried Karl.

‘Why, who else was there to do it?’ said Robinson. ‘I had a man to help me, but he was a lazy rascal; I had to do most of the work alone. Brunelda stood down below beside the van, Delamarche decided up here where the things were to be put, and I had to keep rushing up and down. That went on for two days, a long time, wasn't it? But you’ve no idea whatever how many things are in that room; all the trunks

are full and behind the trunks the whole place is crammed I to the very roof. If they had hired a few men for the transport, everything would soon have been finished, but Bruneldai wouldn't trust it to anyone but me. That was flattering, ofl course, but I ruined my health for life during those two days, and what else did I have except my health? Whenever I try to do the least thing, I have pains here and here and here. Do you think these boys in the hotel, these young jumpingjacks - for that’s all they are - would ever have got the better of me if I had been in good health? But broken down as E may be. I’ll never say a word to Delamarche or Brunelda; I’ll work on as long as I can and when I can’t do it any longer I’ll just lie down and die and then they’ll find out, too late, that I was really ill and yet went on working and worked: myself to death in their service. Oh Rossmann -’ he ended, drying his eyes on Karl’s shirt-sleeve. After a while he said:

‘ Aren't you cold, standing there in your shirt ? ’

'Go on, Robinson,’ said Karl, ‘you’re always blubbering. II don’t believe you’re so ill as all that. You look healthy * enough, but lying about on the balcony all the time you: fancy all sorts of things. You may have an occasional pain in: the chest; so have I, so has everybody. If everybody blubbered like you about trifles, there would be nothing but blubbering on all these balconies.’

‘I know better,’ said Robinson, wiping his eyes with tho corner of his blanket. ‘The student staying next door witbr the landlady who cooks for us said to me a little time ago when I brought back the dishes: “Look here, Robinson you’re ill, aren’t you?’’ I’m not supposed to talk to these people and so I simply set down the dishes and started to g( away. Then he came right up to me and said : Listen, man i don’t push things too far, you’re a sick man.” “All right then what am I to do about it?” I asked him. “That’s your busi ness,” he said and turned away. The others sitting at the table just laughed, they’re all our enemies round here, and so - thought I’d better quit.’

'So you believe anyone who makes a fool of you, and you won’t believe anyone who means well by you.'

‘But I must surely know how I feel/ exclaimed Robinson indignantly, beginning to cry again almost at once.

‘You don’t know what’s really wrong with you; you should only find some decent work for yourself, instead of being Delamarche’s servant. So far as I can tell from your account of it and from what I have seen myself, this isn't service here, it’s slavery. Nobody could endure it; I believe you there. But because you’re Delamarche’s friend you think you can’t leave him. That’s nonsense; if he doesn’t see what a wretched life you’re leading, you can’t have the slightest obligation to him/

‘So you really think, Rossmann, that I would recover my health if I gave up working here ? ’

‘Certainly,' said Karl.

‘Certainly?’ Robinson asked again.

‘Quite certainly,' said Karl smiling.

‘Then T can begin recovering straight away,' said Robinson, looking at Karl.

‘How’s that?’ asked Karl.

‘Why, because you are to take over my work here/ replied Robinson.

‘Who on earth told you that?’ asked Karl.

‘Oh, it’s an old plan. It’s been discussed for days. It began with Brunelda scolding me for not keeping the flat clean enough. Of course I promised to put everything right at once. But, well, that was very difficult. For instance, in my state of health, I can’t creep into all the comers to sweep away the dust; it’s hardly possible to move in the middle of the room, far less get behind the furniture and the piles of stuff. And if the place is to be thoroughly cleaned, the furniture would have to be shifted about, and how could I do that by myself? Besides, it has all to be done very quietly so as not to disturb Brunelda, and she scarcely ever leaves the room. So I promised to give everything a clean-up, but I didn’t actually clean it

up. When Brunelda noticed that, she told Delamarche that this couldn’t go on and that he would have to take on am assistant. “I don’t want you, Delamarche,” she said, “to reproach me at any time for not running the house properly. I can’t put any strain upon myself, you know that quite well, and Robinson isn’t enough; in the beginning he was fresh I and looked after everything, but now he’s always tired and! sits most of the time in a corner. But a room with so many things in it as ours needs to be kept in order.” So Delamarche; considered how it was to be managed, for of course iti wouldn’t do to take anyone and everyone into such a household as ours, even on trial, since we’re spied on from all sides- But as I was a good friend of yours and had heard from Rennell how you had to slave in the hotel, I suggested your name. Delamarche agreed at once, although you were so rude to him before, and of course I was very glad to be of some use to you. For this job might have been made for you; you’re young, strong and quick, while I’m no good to anyone. But; I must tell you that you’re not taken on yet; if Brunelda doesn’t like you, that’s the end of it. So do your best to be pleasant to her; I’ll see to the rest.’

'And what are you going to do if I take on the job? queried Karl. He felt quite free; he had got over the first alarm which Robinson’s announcement had caused him. So Delamarche meant no worse by him than to turn him into a servant - if he h^d had more sinister intentions, the babbling Robinson would certainly have blabbed them - but if thai was how things stood, Karl saw his way to get clear of the place that very night. No one could be compelled to take a job. And though at first he had been worried in case hi?, dismissal from the hotel would hinder him from getting c suitable and if possible fairly respectable post quickly enough to keep him from starving, any post at all now seemed gooc enough compared with this proposal, which repelled him; ht would rather be unemployed and destitute than accept iti But he did not even try to make that clear to Robinson

particularly as Robinson’s mind was now completely obsessed by the hope of shifting his burdens on to Karl’s shoulders.

To begin with,' said Robinson, accompanying the words with a reassuring wave of the hand - his elbows were planted on the railings - Til explain everything and show you all the things we have. You’ve had a good education and I’m sure your handwriting’s excellent, so you could make an inventory straightaway of all our stuff. Brunelda has been wanting that done for a long time. If the weather’s good tomorrow morning we’ll ask Brunelda to sit out on the balcony, and we can work quietly in the room without disturbing her. For that must be your first consideration, Rossmann. Brunelda mustn’t be disturbed. Her hearing’s very keen; it’s probably because she’s a singer that her ears are so sensitive. For instance, say that you’re rolling out a keg of brandy which usually stands behind the trunks, it makes a noise because it’s heavy and all sorts of things are lying about on the floor, so that you can’t roll it straight out. Brunelda, let us say, is lying quietly on the couch catching flies, which are a great torment to her. You think she’s paying no attention to you, and you go on rolling the keg. She’s still lying there quite peacefully. But all at once, just when you’re least expecting it and when you’re making least noise, she suddenly sits up, bangs with both hands on the couch so that you can’t see her for dust - since we came here I have never beaten the dust out of the couch; I really couldn’t, she’s always lying on it - and begins to yell ferociously, like a man, and goes on yelling for hours. The -neighbours have forbidden her to sing, but no one can forbid her to yell; she has to yell; though that doesn’t happen often now, for Delamarche and 1 have grown careful. It was very bad for her, too. Once she fainted - Delamarche was away at the time - and I had to fetch the student from next door, who sprinkled some fluid over her out of a big bottle; it did her good, too, but the fluid had an awfur smell; even now you can smell it if you put your nose to the couch. That student is certainly

an enemy of ours, like everybody here; you must be on youi guard too and have nothing to do with any of them,' 'But I say, Robinson/ remarked Karl, ‘this is a heavy programme. A fine job this that you’ve recommended me for/

‘Don’t you worry,' said Robinson, shutting his eyes ano shaking his head, as if shaking off all Karl’s possible worries ‘This job has advantages that you wouldn’t find in any other You’re always in close attendance on a lady like Bruneldai you sometimes sleep in the same room as she does, and, aa you can imagine, there’s lots of enjoyment to be got out o} that. You’Ll be well paid, there’s plenty of money about;,' got no wages, being a friend of Delamarche, though even time I went out Brunelda always gave me something, bui you of course will be paid like any other servant. That’s wha \ you are, after all. But the most important thing is that I’ll b« able to make your job much easier for you. Of course won’t do anything just at first, to give myself a chance o i getting better, but as soon as I’m even a little better you can count on me. In any case, I’ll do all the waiting on Bruneldai doing her hair, for example, and helping her to dress, so fai as Delamarche doesn’t attend to that. You’ll only have tel concern yourself with cleaning the room, getting in what w< need, and doing the heavy housework/

‘No, Robinson,' said Karl, ‘all this doesn’t tempt me/

‘Don’t be a fool, Rossmann,’ said Robinson, putting his fac: quite close to Karl’s, ‘don’t throw away this splendid chance Where will you get another job so quickly? Who know, you? What people do you know? The two of us, both fuT grown men with plenty of practical skill and experience wandered about for weeks without finding work. It isnl easy; in fact it’s damned difficult.’

Karl nodded, marvelling that Robinson could talk si reasonably. Still, all this advice was beside the point so far a he was concerned; he couldn’t stay here; there must be som place for him in the great city; the whole night, he knew, a

the hotels were filled to bursting and the guests needed service, and he had had some training in that. He would slip quickly and unobtrusively into some job or other. Just across the street there was a small restaurant on the ground floor, from which came a rush of music. The main entrance was covered only .with a big yellow curtain, which billowed out into the street now and then, as a draught of air caught it. Otherwise things were much quieter up and down the street. Most of the balconies were dark; only far in the distance a single light was twinkling here and there; but almost as soon as one fixed one's eye upon it the people beside it got up and thronged back into the house, while the last man left outside put his hand to the lamp and switched it off after a brief glance at the street.

‘It’s nightfall already,’ said Karl to himself, 'if I stay here any longer I’ll become one of them.’ He turned round to pull aside the curtain of the balcony door. 'What are you doing?’ said Robinson, planting himself between Karl and the curtain.

‘I’m leaving,’ said Karl. 'Let me go ! Let me go !’

'But surely you’re not going to disturb her,’ cried Robinson, 'what are you thinking of ! ’ And he threw his arms round Karl’s neck, clinging to him with all his weight and twisting his legs round Karl’s legs, so that in a trice he had him down on the floor. But among the lift-boys Karl had learned a little fighting, and so he drove his fist against Robinson’s chin, not putting out his whole strength, to avoid hurting him. Quickly and without any scruple Robinson punched him in the belly with his knee before beginning to nurse his chin in both hands, and let out such a howl that a man on the next balcony clapped his hands furiously and shouted : Silence ! ’ Karl lay still for a little so as to recover from the pain of Robinson’s foul blow. He turned only his head to watch the curtain hanging still and heavy before the room, which was obviously in darkness. It looked as if no one were in the room now; perhaps Delamarche had gone out

with Brunelda and the way was perfectly free. For Robinsoi who was behaving exactly like a watch-dog, had been final shaken off.

Then from the far end of the street there came in fitf* blasts the sound of drums and trumpets. The single shou of individuals in a crowd soon blended into a general roa Karl turned his head again and saw that all the balconh were once more coming to life. Slowly he got up; he cou; not stand quite straight and had to lean heavily against tl railing. Down on the pavement young lads were stridir : along, waving their caps at the full stretch of their arms an looking back over their shoulders. The middle of the roa was still vacant. Some were flourishing tall poles with lai terns on the end of them enveloped in a yellowish smok: The drummers and the trumpeters, arrayed in broad rank were just emerging into the light in such numbers that Ka was amazed, when he heard voices behind him, turned roui I and saw Delamarche lifting the heavy curtain and Brunela stepping out of the darkness of the room, in the red gow with a lace scarf round her shoulders and a dark hood o\l her hair, which was presumably still undressed and on hastily gathered up, for loose ends straggled here and then In her hand she held a little fan, which she had opened b« did not use, keeping it pressed close to her.

Karl moved sideways along the railing, to make space f the two of them. No one, surely, would force him to sti: here, and even if Delamarche tried it Brunelda would let hi go at once if he were to ask her. After all, she couldn’t stai i him; his eyes terrified her. Yet as he took a step towards tl door she noticed it and asked : 'Where are you going, boy i Delamarche’s severe eye held Karl an instant and Brunelc. drew him to her. ‘Don’t you want to see the procession dow there?’ she said, pushing him before her to the railing. ‘E you know what it’s about?’ Karl heard her asking behii him, and he flinched in an involuntary but unsuccessf attempt to escape from the pressure of her body. He gaze

down sadly at the street, as if the cause of his sadness lay there.

For a while Delamarche stood with crossed arms behind Brunelda; then he ran into the room and brought her the opera glasses. Down below the main body of the procession had now come into sight behind the band. On the shoulders of a gigantic man sat a gentleman of whom nothing could be seen at this height save the faint gleam of a bald crown, over which he was holding a top-hat upraised in perpetual greeting. Round about him great wooden placards were being carried which, seen from the balcony, looked blankly white; they were obviously intended to make a sloping rampart round the prominent central figure, against which they were literally leaning. But since the bearers were moving on all the time, the wall of placards kept falling into disrepair and seeking to repair itself again. Beyond the ring of placards, so far as one could judge in the darkness, the whole breadth of the street, although only a trifling part of its length, was filled with the gentleman's supporters, who clapped their hands in rhythm and kept proclaiming in a chanting cadence what seemed to be the gentleman’s name, a quite short but incomprehensible name. Single supporters adroitly distributed among the &rowd were carrying motor-car lamps of enormous power, which they slowly shone up and down the houses on both sides of the street. At the height where Karl was the light was not unbearable, but on the lower balconies he could see people hastily putting their hands over their eyes whenever it flashed in their faces.

At Brunelda’s request Delamarche inquired of the people on the next balcony what the meaning of the demonstration was. Karl was somewhat curious to note whether and how they would answer him. And actually Delamarche was forced to repeat his question three times before he received an answer...He was already bending* threateningly over the railing and Brunelda had begun to tap with one foot in exasperation at her neighbours, for Karl could feel her knee

A. -II

moving. Finally some sort of answer was given, but simultaneously everyone on the next balcony, which was packed with people, burst out into loud laughter. At that Delamarche yelled a retort so loudly that, if the whole street had not been filled with noise for the moment, all the people round about must have pricked up their ears in astonish^ ment. In any case it had the effect of making the laughter cease with unnatural abruptness.

4 A judge is being elected in our district tomorrow, and the man they are chairing down there is one of the candidates, , said Delamarche quite calmly, returning to Brunelda. ‘Oh ! he went on, caressing Brunelda’s shoulder, ‘we've lost aL idea of what’s happening in the world.’

‘Delamarche,’ said Brunelda, reverting to the behaviour oi her neighbours, ‘how thankful I would be to move out o* here, if it wasn’t such an effort. But unfortunately I can’^ face it.’ And sighing deeply she kept plucking restlessly and distractedly at Karl’s shirt; as unobtrusively as he could ho kept pushing away her plump little hand again and again i which was an easy matter, for Brunelda was not thinking oi^ him; she was occupied with quite other thoughts.

But Karl soon forgot her and suffered the weight of her arms on his shoulders, for the proceedings in the street tooll up all his attention. At the command of small groups o] gesticulating men, who marched just in front of the candii date and whose consultations must have had a particular importance, for one could see attentive faces turned to then from all sides, a halt was abruptly called before the little restaurant. A member of this authoritative group made * signal with his upraised hand which seemed to apply to th« crowd and to the candidate as well. The crowd fell silent anc the candidate, who tried several times to stand upright ano several times fell back again on the shoulders of his bearer made a short speech, waving his top-hat to and fro at light! ning speed. He could be seen quite clearly, for during hL speech all the motor-car lamps were directed upon him

so that he found himself in the centre of a bright star of light.

Now, too, one could realize the interest which the whole street took in the occurrence. On the balconies where supporters of the candidate were packed, the people joined in chanting his name, stretching their hands far over the railings and clapping with machine-like regularity. On the opposition balconies, which were actually in the majority, a howl of retaliation arose which, however, did not achieve a unified effect, as it came from rival supporters of various candidates. However, all the enemies of the present candidate united in a general cat-calling, and even many of the gramophones were set going again. Between the separate balconies political disputes were being fought out with a violence intensified by the late hour. Most of the people were already in their nightclothes, with overcoats flung over them; the women were enveloped in great dark wraps; the children, with nobody to attend to them, climbed dangerously about the railings of the balcony and came swarming more and more out of the dark rooms in which they had been sleeping. Here and there unrecognizable objects were being flung by particularly heated partisans in the direction of their enemies; sometimes they reached their mark, but most of them fell down into the street, where they provoked yells of rage. When the noise became too much for the leading man in the procession, the drummers and trumpeters received orders to intervene, and their blaring, long-drawn-out flourish, executed with all the force of which they were capable, drowned every human voice up to the very house-tops. And then quite suddenly - almost before one realized it - they would stop, whereupon the crowd in the street, obviously trained for this purpose, at once launched their party song into the momentary general silence - one could see all their mouths wide open in the light of the motor-ca lamps -'until their opponents, coming to their senses again, yelled ten times as loudly as before from all the balconies and windows, and the party

below, after their brief victory, were reduced to complete silence, at least for anyone standing at this height.

'How do you like it, boy?’ asked Brunelda, who kept turning and twisting close behind Karl, so as to see as much as possible through her glasses. Karl merely answered with a nod of the head. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that Robinson was busily talking away to Delamarche, obviously about Karl's intentions, but that Delamarche seemed to attach no importance to what he said, for with his right arm round Brunelda he kept pushing Robinson aside with his left. 'Wouldn’t you like to look through the glasses?' asked Brunelda, tapping Karl on the chest to show that she meant him.

'I can see well enough,' said Karl.

'Do try,' she said, ‘you’ll see much better,' 'I have good eyes/ replied Karl, ‘I can see everything.’ He did not feel it as a kindness but as a nuisance when she put! the glasses before his eyes, with the mere words, ‘Here, you I’1 uttered melodiously enough but threateningly. And now the glasses were before Karl’s eyes and he could see nothing! at all.

'I can’t see anything,' he said, trying to get away from the! glasses, but she held them firmly, and his head, which was1 pressed against her breast, he could move neither backwards nor sideways.

'But you can see now,' she said, turning the screw.

'No, I still can’t see anything,’ said Karl, and he thought that in spite of himself he had relieved Robinson of his duties after all, for Brunelda’s insupportable whims were now being wreaked on him.

‘When on earth are you going to see?’ she said, and turner1 the screw again; Karl’s whole face was now exposed to her

heavy breath. ‘Now?’ she asked.

'No, no, no!’ cried Karl, although he could actually distinguish everything now, though very vaguely. But a* that moment Brunelda thought of something to say t(

Delamarche; she held the glasses loosely before Karl's face, and without her noticing it he could peep under the glasses at the street. After that she no longer insisted on having her way and used the glasses for her own pleasure.

From the restaurant below a waiter had emerged and dashing in and out of the door took orders from the leaders. One could see him standing on his toes so as to overlook the interior of the establishment and summon as many of the staff as possible. During these preparations for what was obviously a round of free drinks, the candidate never stopped speaking. The man who was carrying him, the giant specially reserved for him, kept turning round a little after every few sentences, so that the address might reach all sections of the crowd. The candidate maintained a crouching posture most of the time, and tried with backward sweeps of his free hand and of the top-hat in the other to give special emphasis to his words. But every now and then, at almost regular intervals, the flow of his eloquence proved too much for him; he rose to his full height with outstretched arms, he was no longer addressing a group but the whole multitude; he spoke to all the people in the houses up to the very top floors, and yet it was perfectly clear that no one could hear him even in the lowest storeys; indeed, even if they could, nobody would have wanted to hear him, for every window and every balcony ’was occupied by at least one spouting orator. Meanwhile several waiters were carrying out of the restaurant a table covered with brimming, winking glasses, about the size of a billiard-table. The leaders organized the distribution of the drinks, which was achieved in the form of a march past the restaurant. But although the glasses on the table were always filled again, there were not enough for the mob of people, and two relays of barmen had to keep slipping through the crowd on both sides of the table to supply further needs.. The candidate had, of course, stopped speaking and was employing the pause in refreshing his energies. His bearer carried him slowly backwards and forwards,

somewhat apart from the crowd and the harsh light, and only a few of his closest supporters accompanied him and threw remarks to him.

Look at the boy,' said Brunelda, Tie's so busy staring that he's quite forgotten where he is,' And she took Karl by surprise, turning his face towards her with both hands, so that she was gazing into his eyes. But it lasted only a minute, for Karl shook her hands off at once and, annoyed that they would not leave him in peace and also eager to go down to the street and see everything close at hand, tried with all his might to free himself from Brunelda's grip and said:

‘Please, let me go away/

Tou’ll stay with us,' said Delamarche, without turning his eyes from the street, merely stretching out his hand to prevent Karl from going.

‘Leave him alone,' said Brunelda, pushing away Delamarche's hand, Tie’ll stay all right,' And she squeezed Karl still more firmly against the railing, so that he would have had to struggle with her to get away from her. And even if he were to free himself, what could he gain by that ! Delamarche was standing on his left, Robinson had now moved across to his right; he was literally a prisoner.

‘Count yourself lucky that you're not thrown out,' said Robinson, tapping Karl with the hand he had hooked through Brunelda's arm.

‘Thrown out?' said Delamarche. Tou don't throw out a runaway thief; you hand him over to the police. And that might happen to him the very first thing tomorrow morning if he doesn't keep quiet.'

From that moment Karl had no further pleasure in the spectacle below. Simply because he could not help it, being crushed against Brunelda and unable to straighten himself, he leaned forward a little over the railing. Full of his own trouble, he gazed absently at the people below, who marched up to the table before the restaurant in squads of about twenty men, seized the glasses, turned round and waved them

in the direction of the recuperating candidate, shouted a party slogan, emptied the glasses and set them down on the table again with what must have been a great clatter that was, however, inaudible at this height, in order to make room for the next noisy and impatient squad. On the instructions of the -party leaders the brass band which had been playing in the restaurant came out into the street; their great wind instruments glittered against the dark crowd, but the music was almost lost in the general din. The street was now, at least on the side where the restaurant stood, packed far and wide with' human beings. From up the hill, the direction from which Karl's taxi had arrived that morning, they came streaming down; from as far as the low-lying bridge they came rushing up; and even the people in the adjoining houses could not' resist the temptation to take a personal part in this affair; on the balconies and at the windows there was hardly anyone left but women and children, while the men came pouring out of the house-doors down below. By now the music and the free drinks had achieved their aim; the assembly was great enough at last; one of the leaders, flanked on either side by headlamps, signalled the band to stop playing and gave a loud whistle, and at once the man carrying the candidate hastily turned back and could be seen approaching through a path opened for him by supporters.

The Candidate had barely reached the restaurant door when he began a new speech in the blaze of the headlamps, which were now concentrated upon him in a narrow ring. But conditions were much less comfortable than before. His gigantic bearer had now no initiative at all in movement, for the crowd was too dense. His chief supporters, who had previously done their best in all kinds of ways to enhance the effect of his words, now had the greatest difficulty in keeping near him, and only about twenty of them managed to retain their footing beside the bearer. Even* he, strong giant as he was, could not take a step of his own free will, and it was out of the question to think of influencing the crowd by

turning to face this section or that, by making dramatic advances or retreats. The mob was flowing backwards anil forwards without plan, each man propelled by his neighbour, not one braced on his own feet; the opposition party seemed I to have gained a lot of new recruits; the bearer, after stemming the tide for a while outside the restaurant door, was, now letting himself be swept up and down the street,, apparently without resistance; the candidate still kept oni uttering words, but it was no longer clear whether he wasi outlining his programme or shouting for help; and unless Karl was mistaken a rival candidate had made his appearance,, or rather several rivals, for here and there, when light suddenly flared up, some figure could be seen, high on the shoulders of the crowd orating with white face and clenched fists to an accompaniment of massed cheering.

'What on earth is happening down there?' asked Karl, turning in breathless bewilderment to his warders.

'How it excites the boy,' said Brunelda to Delamarche, taking hold of Karl's chin so as to turn his face towards her. But that was something Karl did not desire, and made quite reckless by the events down in the street he gave himself such a jerk that Brunelda not only let him go but recoiled and left him quite to himself. 'You have seen enough now/, she said, obviously angered by Karl's behaviour, 'go into the room, make the bed and get everything ready for the night/ She pointed towards the room. That was the very direction Karl had wanted to take for hours past, and he made nc objection at all. Then from the street came a loud crash of breaking glass. Karl could not restrain himself and took a flying leap to the railing for a last hasty look down. The opposition had brought off a grand coup, perhaps a decisive one; the car head-lamps of the candidate's party, which had thrown a powerful light on at least the central figures and afforded a measure of publicity which controlled the proceedings up to a point, had all been simultaneously smashed and the candidate and his bearer were now received into tho

embrace of the general uncertain street lighting, which in its sudden diffusion had the effect of complete darkness. No one could have guessed even approximately the candidate’s whereabouts, and the illusoriness of the darkness was still more enhanced by a loud swelling chorus in unison which suddenly broke out from the direction of the bridge and was coming nearer.

'Haven’t I told you what to do?’ said Brunelda. 'Hurry

up. I’m tired,’ she added, stretching her arms above her so

that her bosom arched out even more than before. Dela-

marche, whose arm was still round her, drew her into a corner of the balcony. Robinson followed them to push out of the way the remains of his supper, which were still lying there.

Such a favourable opportunity was not to be let slip; this was no time for Karl to look down at the street; he would see enough of what was happening there once he was down below, much better than from up here. In two bounds he was through the room with its dim red lighting, but the door was locked and the key taken away. It must be found at once; yet who could expect to find a key in this disorder and above all in the little space of precious time which Karl had at his disposal. Actually he should be on the stairs by now, running and running. Instead of which he was hunting for a key 1 He looked in all the drawers that would open, rummaged about on the table, where various dishes, table napkins and pieces of half-begun embroidery were lying about, was allured next by an easy-chair on which lay an inextticable heap of old clothes where the key might possibly be hidden but could never be found, and flung himself finally on the couch, which was indeed evil-smelling, so as to feel in all its nooks and comers for the key. Then he stopped looking and came to a halt in the middle of the room. Brunelda was certain to have the key fastened to her belt, he toldhimself; so many things hung there; all searching was in vain.

And blindly Karl seized two knives and thrust them

between the wings of the door, one above and one below, so as to get the greatest purchase on it from two separate points. But scarcely did he brace himself against the knives when the blades of course broke off. He wished for nothing better; the stumps, with which he could now get closer, would hold the more firmly. And now he wrenched at them with all his strength, his arms outstretched, his legs wide apart, panting and yet carefully watching the door at the same time. It could not resist for much longer; he realized that with joy from the audible loosening of the lock; but the more slowly he went the better; the lock mustn't burst open, or else they would hear it on the balcony; it must loosen itself quite gradually; and he worked with great caution to bring this about, putting his face closer and closer to the lock.

'Just look at this,' he heard the voice of Delamarche. All three of them were standing in the room; the curtain was already drawm behind them; Karl could not have heard them entering; and at the sight of them he let go the knives. But he was given no time to utter a word of explanation or excuse, for in a fit of rage far greater than the occasion merited Delamarche leaped at him, the loose cord of his dressing-gown describing a long figure in the air. At the very last moment Karl evaded his attack; he could have pulled the knives from the door and defended himself with them, but he did not do so; instead, ducking down and then springing up, he seized the broad collar of Delamarche’s dressing-gown, jerked it upwards, then pulled it still farther over - the dressing-gown was far too big for Delamarche - and now by good luck had a hold on the head of Delamarche, who, taken completely by surprise, pawed wildly with his hands at first and only after a moment or two began to beat Karl on the back with his fists, but with less than his full strength, while Karl, to protect his face, flung himself against Delamarche's chest. Karl endured the blows, though they made him twust with pain and kept increasing in violence, for it was easy to bear them when he thought he saw victory before him.

With his hands round Delamarche’s head the thumbs just over the eyes, he pushed him towards the part of the room where the furniture stood thickest and at the same time with the toe of his shoe tried to twist the cord of the dressinggown round Delamarche’s legs to trip him up.

But since. he had to bend all his attention on Delamarche, whose resistance he could feel growing more and more and whose sinewy body was bracing itself with greater enmity against him, he actually forgot that he was not alone in the room with Delamarche. Only too soon the reminder came, for suddenly his- feet flew from under him, being wrenched apart by Robinson, who was lying shrieking behind him on the floor. Panting, Karl let go his hold of Delamarche, who recoiled a little. Brunelda, her legs straddling, her knees bent, a bulky figure in the middle of the room, was following the fight with glittering eyes. As if she herself were taking part in it she was breathing deeply, screwing up her eyes and slowly advancing her fists. Delamarche flung back the collar of his dressing-gown and now had the use of his eyes; of course, it was no longer a fight but simply a punishment. He seized Karl by the shirt-front, lifted him nearly off the floor and without even looking at him in his contempt flung him so violently against a chest standing a few steps away that at first Karl' thought the searing pains in his back and head caused by the collision were the direct result of Delamarche's handling. ‘You scoundrel !’ he could hear Delamarche shouting in the darkness that rose before his wavering eyes. And as he sank down fainting beside the chest the words Tou just wait ! ’ still rang dimly in his ears.

When he came to his senses everything was dark around him; it seemed to be late in the night; from the balcony a faint glimmer of moonlight came into the room beneath the curtain. He could hear the regular breathing of the three sleepers; by far the loudest noise came from Brunelda, who snorted in her sleep as she sometimes did in talking; yet it was not easy to make out where the different sleepers were

f°r whole room was filled with the sound of their breathing. Not until he had examined his surroundings for a little while did Karl think of himself, and then he was struck with alarm, for though he was quite cramped and stiff with pain he had not imagined that he could have been severely wounded to the effusion of blood. Yet now he felt a weight on his head, and his whole face, his neck, and his breast under the shirt were wet as if with blood. He must get into the light to find out exactly what condition he was in; perhaps they had crippled him, in which case Delamarche would be glad enough to let him go; but what could he hope to do if that were so; there would be no prospects for him at all. The lad with the nose half-eaten away occurred to him, and for a moment he buried his face in his hands.

Then involuntarily he turned towards the outside door and groped his way towards it on all fours. Presently he felt a shoe and then a leg under his finger-tips. That must be Robinson; who else would sleep in his shoes? They must have ordered him to lie across the door so as to keep Karl from escaping. But didn’t they know, then, the condition that Karl was in? For the moment he was not thinking of escape; he merely wanted to reach the light. So, as he couldn’t get out by the door, he must make for the balcony.

He found the dining-table in a quite different place from the evening before; the couch, which he approached very cautiously, was to his surprise vacant; but in the middle of the room he came upon a high though closely compressed pile of clothes, blankets, curtains, cushions and carpets. At first he thought it was only a small pile, like the one he had found at the end of the couch the previous evening, and that it had merely happened to fall on the floor; but to his astonishment he discovered on creeping farther that a whole van-load of such things was lying there, which, presumably for use in the night, must have been taken out of the trunks where they were kept during the day. He crept right round the pile and soon realized that the whole formed a sort of

bed, on top of which, as he discovered by feeling cautiously, Delamarche and Brunelda were sleeping.

So now he knew where they all were and made haste to reach the balcony. It was quite a different world on the other side of the curtain, and he quickly rose to his feet. In the fresh night air he walked up and down the balcony a few times in the full radiance of the moon. He looked down at the street; it was quite still; music was still issuing from the restaurant, but more subdued now; a man was sweeping the pavement before the door; in the street where only a few hours ago the tumult had been so great that 'the shouting of an electoral candidate could not be distinguished among a thousand other voices, the scratching of the broom on the flagstones could be distinctly heard.

The scraping of table-legs on the next balcony made Karl aware that someone was sitting there reading. It was a young man with a little pointed beard, which he kept continually twisting as he read, his lips moving rapidly at the same time. He was facing Karl, sitting at a little table covered with books; he had taken the electric lamp from the parapet and shored it between two big volumes, so that he sat in a flood of garish light.

'Good evening,' said Karl, for he thought he noticed the young man glancing at him.

But that must have been an error, for the young man, apparently quite unaware of him, put his hand to his eyes to shield them from the light and make out who had suddenly spoken to him, and then, still unable to see anything, held up the electr|c lamp so as to throw some light on the next balcony.

'Good evening,' he said then in return, with a brief, penetrating look, adding : ‘And what do you want?’

4Am I disturbing you?’ asked Karl.

‘Of course, of course,' said the m^n, returning the lamp again to its former place.

These words certainly discouraged any attempt at

intercourse, but all the same Karl did not quit the corner of the balcony nearest to the man. Silently he watched him reading his book, turning the pages, now and then looking up something in another book, which he always snatched up at lightning speed, and frequently making notes in a jotter, which he did with his face surprisingly close to the paper.

Could this man be a student? It certainly looked as if he were. Not very unlike this - a long time ago now - Karl had sat at home at his parents’ table writing out his school task s, while his father read the newspaper or did book-keeping and correspondence for a society to which he belonged, and his* mother was busy sewing, drawing the thread high out ofi the stuff in her hand. To avoid disturbing his father, Karl used to lay only the exercise book and his writing materials' on the table, while he arranged his reference books on chairs' to right and left of him. How quiet it had been there ! Hown seldom strangers had visited their home ! Even as a small child Karl had always been glad to see his mother turning the key in the outside door of an evening. She had no ideai that he had come to such a pass as to try breaking open: strange doors with knives.

And what had been the point of all his studying? He hacl forgotten everything; if he had been given the chance ol continuing his studies here, he would have found it a very] hard task. Once, he remembered, he had been ill for a whole month at home; what an effort it had cost him afterwards tc get used to his interrupted studies again. And now, except for the hand-book of English commercial correspondence, he had not read a book for ever so long.

T say, young man,’ Karl found himself suddenly addressed "couldn’t you stand somewhere else? You disturb me fright! fully, staring at me like that. After two o’clock in the morn ing one can surely expect to be allowed to work in peace on a balcony. Do you want anything from me?’

"Are you studying ? ’ asked Karl.

238 J.

Tes, yes,' said the man, taking advantage of this wasted moment to bring new order among his books.

Then I won’t disturb you,' said Karl, ‘I’m going indoors again, in any case. Good night/

The man did not even answer; with abrupt resolution he had returned to his book again after dealing with the disturbance, his head leaning heavily on his right hand.

But just before he reached the curtain Karl remembered why he had actually come out; he did not even know how much he had been hurt. What could it be that was lying so heavy on his head? He put his hand up and stared in astonishment. There was no bloodstained wound such as he had feared in the darkness of the room, but only a turbanlike bandage which was still rather wet. To judge from little frills of lace hanging from it here and there, it had been tom from an old chemise of Brunelda’s, and Robinson must have wrapped it hurriedly round his head. But he had forgotten to wring it out, and so while Karl was unconscious the water had dripped down his face and under his shirt, and that was what had given him such a shock.

'Are you still there?’ asked the man, peering across.

I'm really going now,' said Karl, T only wanted to look at something; it’s quite dark indoors/

‘But who are you?’ said the man, laying his pen on the open book before him and advancing to the railing. ‘What’s your name? How do you come to be with these people? Have you been long here? What did you want to look at? Turn on the electric light there, won’t you, so that I can see you/

Karl obeyed, but before answering he drew the curtain more closely to keep those inside from noticing anything. ‘Excuse me,’ he said in a whisper, ‘for not raising my voice more. If they were to hear me there would be another row/

‘Another?’ asked the man.

‘Yes,' said Karl, ‘I had a terrible row with them this very

evening. I must still have a pretty bad bump on my head.1. And he felt the back of his head.

'What was the trouble?1 asked the man, and as Karl did not at once reply, he added : Tou can safely tell me anything you have against these people. For I hate all three of them/ and the Madam in particular. Besides, I’d be surprised to find that they hadn’t put you against me already. My name is Joseph Mendel and I am a student.1

'Well,' said Karl, ‘they’ve told me about you already, bul nothing bad. You doctored Brunelda once, didn’t you?'

'That’s right,’ said the student, laughing. ‘Does the couch still stink of it?1

'Oh yes,1 said Karl.

'I’m glad of that, anyway,1 said the student, passing hfc fingers through his hair. ‘And why do they give you bump*- on the head?1

'We had a quarrel,1 said Karl, wondering how he was to explain it to the student. Then he checked himself and asked : ‘But am I not disturbing you ?!' In the first place,’ said the student, 'you have already disturbed me, and I am unluckily so nervous that I need a long time to get into my stride again. Ever since you began to walk about your balcony I haven’t been able to get on with my studies. And then in the second place I always have a breather about three o'clock. So you needn’t have any] scruples about telling me. Besides, I’m interested.’

'It’s quite simple,’ said Karl, ‘Delamarche wants me to ba his servant. But I don’t want to. I should have liked to leava this very night. He wouldn’t let me go, and he locked tha door; I tried to break it open and then there was a row. I'm unlucky to be still here.’

'Why, have you got another job?’ asked the student.

'No,1 said Karl, ‘but that doesn’t worry me in the least b

I could only get away from here.’

‘What,’ said the student, 'it doesn’t worry you in the least: doesn’t it?’ And both of them were silent for a moment

'Why don’t you want to stay with these people?’ the student asked at last.

‘Delamarche is a bad man,' said Karl, ‘I’ve encountered him before. I tramped for a whole day with him once and I was glad to be out of his company. And am I to be his servant now?’ *

‘If all servants were as fastidious in their choice of masters as you are !’ said the student, and he seemed to be smiling. Took here, during the day I’m a salesman, a miserable counter-jumper, not much more than ai errand-boy, in Mon tly’s big store. This Montly is certainly a scoundrel, but that leaves me quite cold; what makes me furious is simply that the pay is wretched. Let that be an example to you.’

‘What?’ said Karl. Tou are a salesman all day and you study all night?’ I

Tes,’ said the student, ‘there’s nothing else to be done. I’ve tried everything possible, but this is the best way. For years I did nothing but study, day and night, and I almost didn’t dare attend lectures in the clothes I had to wear. But that’s all behind me now.’

‘But when do you sleep ? ’ asked Karl, looking at the student in wonder.

‘Oh, sleep !’ said the student. ‘I’ll get some sleep when I’m finished with my studies. I keep myself going on black coffee.’ And he turned round, drew a big bottle from under the table, poured black coffee from it into a little cup and tossed it down his throat as if it were medicine which he wanted to get quickly over, to avoid the taste.

‘A fine thing, black coffee,’ said the student. ‘It’s a pity you’re too far away for me to reach you some.’

‘I don’t like black coffee,’ said Karl.

‘I don’t either,’ said the student, laughing. ‘But what could I do without it? If it weren’t for black^coffee Montly wouldn’t keep me for a minute. I say Montly although of course he’s not even aware of my existence. I simply don’t know how I

would get on in the shop if I didn’t have a big bottle like this under the counter, for I’ve never dared to risk stopping the i coffee-drinking; but you can believe me that if I did I would roll down behind the counter in a dead sleep. Unfortunately i the others have tumbled to that, they call me “Black Coffee”,, a silly witticism which I’m sure has damaged my careen already.’

‘And when will you be finished with your studies?’ asked I Karl.

‘I’m getting on slowly,’ said the student with drooping j head. He left the railing and sat down again at the table; planting his elbows on the open book and passing his fingers through his hair, he said then: ‘It might take me another' year or two.’

‘I wanted to study too,’ said Karl, as if that gave him at claim to be on a more confidential footing than the student, now fallen silent, had seen fit to grant.

‘Indeed?’ said the student, and it was not quite clear' whether he was reading his book again or merely staring! absently at it. ‘You can be glad that you’ve given up studying. I’ve studied for years now simply for the sake of mere! consistency. I get very little satisfaction out of it and eveni less hope for the future. What prospects could I have? America is full of quack doctors.’

‘I wanted to be an engineer,’ put in Karl quickly, as the ' student seemed to be losing all interest.

‘And now you’re supposed to be a servant to these people,’ said the student, glancing up for a moment, ‘that annoys i you, of course.’

This conclusion sprang from a misunderstanding, but Karl I felt that he might turn it to his advantage. So he asked: \ ‘Perhaps I could get a job in the store too?’

The question detached the student completely from hisi book, but the idea that he might be of some help to Karl in i applying for such a post did not enter his mind at all. ‘Youi try it,’ he said, ‘or rather don’t you try it. Getting a job at

Montly’s is the biggest success I’ve ever scored. If I had to give up either my studies or my job, of course I’d give up my studies; I spend all my energy trying to keep off the horns of that dilemma.’

‘So it’s as hard as that to get a job in Montly’s,’ said Karl more to himself than to the student.

‘Why, what do you think?’ said the student. ‘It’s easier to be appointed district judge here than a door-opener at Montly’s.’

Karl fell silent. This student, who was so much more experienced than' he was and who hated Delamarche for some unknown reason and who certainly felt no ill-will towards himself, could not give him a single word of encouragement to leave Delamarche. And yet he didn’t know anything about the danger threatening Karl from the police, which only Delamarche could shield him from at the moment.

‘You saw the demonstration down there this evening, didn’t you? Anyone who didn’t know the ropes could easily imagine, couldn’t he, that the candidate, Lobster is his name, would have some prospect of getting in or at least of being considered?’

‘I know nothing about politics,' said Karl.

‘That’s a mistake,’ said the student. ‘But you have eyes and ears in your head, haven’t you? The man obviously has friends and opponents; that surely can’t have escaped you. Well, in my opinion the fellow hasn’t the slightest prospect of being returned. I happen to know all about him; there’s a man staying here who’s an acquaintance of his. He’s not without ability, and as far as his political views and his political past are concerned, he would actually be the most suitable judge for the district. But no one even imagines that he can get in; he’ll come as big a cropper as anyone can; he’ll have chucked away his dollars on tffe election campaign and that will be all.’

Karl and the student gazed at each other for a little while

in silence. The student nodded smilingly and pressed his hand against his weary eyes.

* Well, aren’t you going to bed yet?’ he asked. T must start on my reading again. Look, how much I have still to do,' And he fluttered over half the pages of the book, to give Karl an idea of the work that still awaited him.

'Well then, good night,' said Karl, with a bow.

'Come over and see us sometime,' said the student, who had sat down at the table again, ‘of course, only if you would like to. You’ll always find lots of company here. And I can| always have time for you from nine till ten in the evening, j

‘So you advise me to stay with Delamarche?’ asked Karl.

'Absolutely,' said the student, whose head was already] bent over his book. It was as if not he but someone else haq said the word; it echoed in Karl’s ears as if it had been utterec j by a voice more hollow than the student’s. Slowly he wenr up to the curtain, glanced once more at the student, whci now sat quite motionless in his ring of light, surrounded by the vast darkness, and slipped into the room. The uniteci breathing of the three sleepers received him. He felt his way] along the wall to the couch, and when he found it calmly] stretched himself out on it as if it were his familiar bed I Since the student, who knew all about Delamarche and th«< queer circumstances, and who was moreover an educated man, had advised him to stay here, he had no qualms for tht| time being. He did not have such high aims as the student : perhaps even at home he would never have succeeded in carrying his studies to their conclusion; and if it were diffii cult to do that at home, no one could expect him to manage i it here in a strange land. But his prospects of finding a pos i in which he could achieve something, and be appreciated fo} his achievement, would be greater if he accepted the servant’/ place with Delamarche for the time being and from thaa secure position watched for a favourable opportunity. In thi-j very street there appeared to be many offices of middling 03 inferior status, which in case of need might not be too

fastidious in picking their staff. He would be glad to take on a porter’s job, if necessary, but after all it was not utterly impossible that he might be taken on simply for office work, and in the future might sit at his own desk as a regular clerk, gazing occasionally out of the open window with a light heart, like the clerk whom he had seen that morning on his expedition through the courtyards. As he shut his eyes he was comforted by the reflection that he was still young and that some day or other he was bound to get away from Delamarche; this household certainly did not look as if it were established for alt eternity. Once he got such a post in an office, he would concentrate his mind on his office work; he would not disperse his energies like the student. If it should be necessary, he would devote his nights as well as his days to his office wdrk, which at the start might be actually expected of him, considering his meagre knowledge of business matters. He would think only of the interests of the firm he had to serve, and undertake any work that offered, even work which the other clerks rejected as beneath them. Good intentions thronged into his head, as if his future employer were standing before the couch and could read them from his face.

On such thoughts Karl fell asleep, and only in his first light slumber was disturbed by a deep sigh from Brunelda, who was apparently troubled by bad dreams and twisted and turned on her bed.