I FIND ACHILLES IN HIS TENT
Outside had fallen. I had a that the house might be watched, but I the Bendler-Strasse undisturbed. It ran its quiet, length to the of marking the Tiergarten-Strasse with not so much as a dog to terror into the of the spy. Even in the Tiergarten-Strasse, where the Jewish live, there was little traffic and people about, and I as I walked along the clean Unter Linden.
Once more the original object of my into Germany me. An series of had me from my course, but from my purpose. I that I should happy in my mind again if I left Germany without being as to my brother's fate. And now I was on the either of a great or of an disappointment.
For the called In Zelten was my next objective. I I might be on the in my of what I was pleased to term in my mind the message from Francis. If I had read it falsely—if, perhaps, it were not from him at all—then all the I had on this into the enemy's country would like a house of cards. Then, indeed, I should be in a sorry pass.
But my luck was in, I felt. Hitherto, I had over all difficulties. I would trust in my to the last.
I had taken the of up my overcoat and of my well over my eyes, but no one me. I that only Clubfoot and Schmalz were in a position to me and that, if I clear of places like and restaurants and railway stations, where always to be caught, I might continue to immunity. But the trouble was the question. That me.
I must of Semlin's passport. As I walked along I it into pieces, each at a good from the other. It cost me something to do it, for a is always useful to in the of the ignorant. But this was dangerous. It might me to a man who would not otherwise me.
I had some in In Zelten. I had to ask the way, once of a and once of a soldier who was along with crutches. Finally, I it, a off a of the great square in of the Reichstag. No. 2 was the second house on the right.
I had no plan. Nevertheless, I walked upstairs. There was but one on each floor. At the third I halted, out of breath, in of a door with a small plate with the name "Eugen Kore." I the boldly.
An man-servant opened the door.
"Is Herr Eugen Kore at home?" I asked.
The man looked at me suspiciously.
"Has the an appointment?" he said.
"No," I replied.
"Then the Herr will not the gentleman," came the answer, and the man as though to close the door.
I had an inspiration.
"A moment!" I cried, and I added the word "Achilles" in a low voice.
The opened the door wide to me.
"Why didn't you say that at once?" he said. "Please step in. I will see if the Herr can you."
He the way through a into a sitting-room and left me there. The place was a perfect of art treasures, old Dutch and Italian masters on the walls, some Florentine chests, a old with pewter. On a was an of old keys, each with its label. "Key of the of Spandau, 1715." "Key of the Postern Gate of the Pasha's Palace at Belgrade, 1810," "House Key from Nuremberg, 1567," were some of the I read.
Then a voice me said:
"Ah! you my little treasures!"
Turning, I saw a short, man, of a marked Jewish appearance, with a head, a nose, little and a large waist.
"Eugen Kore!" he himself with a bow.
"Meyer!" I replied, in the German fashion.
"And what can we do for Herr ... Meyer?" he asked in tones, just long he the name I gave to let me see that he it to be a pseudonym.
"I you know a friend of mine, address I am to find," I said.
"Ah!" the little Jew, "a man of like myself meets so many people that he may be pardoned.... What did you say his name was, this friend of yours?"
I I would try the of the name "Eichenholz" upon this creature.
"Eichenholz? Eichenholz?" Kore repeated.
"I to know the name ... it familiar ... now let me see again.... Eichenholz, Eichenholz. ..."
While he was speaking he one of the and a safe came to view. Opening this, he out a and ran his the names. Then he the book, replaced it, locked the safe and the cabinet, and to me again.
"Yes," he said, "I know the name."
His was disconcerting.
"Can you tell me where I can him?" I asked.
"Yes," was the reply.
I was a nettled.
"Well, where?" I queried.
"This is all very well, Sir," said the Jew. "You come in here from nowhere, you as Meyer; you ask me 'Who?' and 'What?' and 'Where?'—questions that, mark you, in my business, may have valuable answers. We private must live, my dear sir, we must eat and drink like other men, and these are hard times, very hard times. I will ask you a question if I may. Meyer? Who is Meyer? Everybody in this country is called Meyer!"
I at this speech.
"This Eichenholz, now," I said, "... he were my brother."
"He might himself," Kore said, his little eyes.
"And he sent me word to call and see you to out his whereabouts. You to like riddles, Herr Kore.... I will read you one!"
And I read him the message from Francis ... all but the two lines.
The little Jew with delight.
"Ach! that is bright!" he cried, "oi, oi, oi, but he is smart, this Herr Eichenholz! Who'd have of that? Brilliant, brilliant!"
"As you say, Herr Kore, must live, and I am prepared to pay for the I require...."
I out my portfolio as I spoke.
"The is simple," Kore replied. "It is already arranged. The is five hundred marks. My client said to me the last time I saw him, 'Kore,' he said, 'if one should come news of me you will give him the word and he will pay you five hundred marks.'"
"The word?" I said.
"The word," he repeated.
"You must take Dutch money," I said. "Here you are ... work it out in ... and I'll pay!"
He a of pencil on a and I paid him his money.
Then he said:
"Boonekamp!"
"Boonekamp?" I stupidly.
"That's the word," the little Jew chuckled, laughing at my expression, "and, if you want to know, I it as little as you do."
"But ... Boonekamp," I repeated. "Is it a man's name, a place? It Dutch. Have you no idea? ... come, I'm to pay."
"Perhaps ..." the Jew began.
"What? Perhaps what?" I impatiently.
"Possibly...."
"Out with it, man!" I cried, "and say what you mean."
"Perhaps, if I to the the service I to his brother, I might be able to light...."
"What service did you to my brother?" I hastily. "I'm in the dark."
"Has the no little perhaps? ... about his service, about his papers? The is and ... has he been to the front? Was life there? Did he long for the of home life? Did he those who have been rejected? The rich men's sons, perhaps, with fathers who know how to what they want?"
His little into mine like gimlets.
I to understand.
"And if I had?"
"Then all old Kore can say is that the has come to the right shop, as his did. How can we the now? What are his requirements? It is a difficult, a business. It money, much money, but it can be ... it can be arranged."
"But if you do for me what you did for my brother," I said, "I don't see how that helps to this word, this to his address!"
"My dear sir, I am as much in the dark as you are about the of this word. But I can tell you this, your brother, thanks to my intervention, himself in a in which he might well have come across this word...."
"Well?" I said impatiently.
"Well, if we the as we his brother, the might be taken where his was taken, the is and smart, he might a ..."
"Stop talking riddles, for Heaven's sake!" I in exasperation, "and answer my questions plainly. First, what did you do for my brother?"
"Your had from the front—that is the most difficult class of we have to with—we him a de séjour for fifteen days and a post in a safe place where no would be after him."
"And then?" I cried, with curiosity.
The Jew his shoulders, his hands to and in the air.
"Then he disappeared. I saw him a days he went, and he gave me the I have to you for who should come for him."
"But didn't he tell you where he was going?"
"He didn't tell me he was going, Herr. He just vanished."
"When was this?"
"Somewhere about the week in July ... it was the week of the news from France."
The message was July 1st, I remembered.
"I have a good set of Swedish papers," the Jew continued, "very merchant ... with those one live in the best and no one say a word. Or Hungarian papers, a party rejected ... very safe those, but the doesn't speak Hungarian. That would be essential."
"I am in the same case as my brother," I said, "I must disappear."
"Not a deserter, Herr?" The Jew at the word.
"Yes," I said. "After all, why not?"
"I daren't do this of any more, my dear sir, I daren't! They are making it too dangerous."
"Come, come!" I said, "you were just now that you out any difficulties. You can produce me a very satisfactory from somewhere, I am sure!"
"Passport! Out of the question, my dear sir! Let once one of my go and I am ruined. Oh, no! no where are concerned! I don't like the ... it's not safe! At the of the ... ah! that was different! Oi, oi, but they ran from the Yser and from Ypres! Oi, oi, and from Verdun! But now the police are more watchful. No! It is not it! It would cost you too much money, besides."
I the was trying to the price on me, but I was mistaken. He was frightened: the was to him.
I tried, as a final attempt to him, an old trick: I him my money. He at once, and, after many objections, to the last, he left the room. He returned with a of papers.
"I oughtn't to do it; I know I shall it; but you have me and I liked Herr Eichenholz, a and free with his money—see here, the papers of a waiter, Julius Zimmermann, called up with the Landwehr but unfit, pay-book and de séjour for fifteen days. These papers are only a in case you come across the police: no questions will be asked where I shall send you."
"But a fifteen days' permit!" I said. "What am I to do at the end of that time?"
"Leave it to me," Kore said craftily. "I will it for you. It will be all right!"
"But in the meantime...." I objected.
"I place you as waiter with a friend of mine who is to like yourself. Your was with him."
"But I want to be free to move around."
"Impossible," the Jew answered firmly. "You must into your part and live in until the after you have abated. Then we may see as to what is next to be done. There you are, a set of papers and a safe, life away from the trenches—all and secure—cheap (in of the to me), you are a of and I liked your ... ten thousand marks!"
I again. Once we had the stage, I the papers would be mine all right. With Semlin's money and my own I I had about £550, but I had no of paying out £500 away. So I the and the for 3600 marks—£180.
But, after I had paid the his money, I was not done with him. He had his on his perquisites.
"Your will do," he said; "such of apparel, such stuff—we must give you others." He the bell.
The old man-servant appeared.
"A waiter's suit—for the Linien-Strasse!" he said.
Then he me into a where a of German was spread out on a sofa. He me into it, and then me a green overcoat and a green hat.
"So!" he said. "Now, if you don't for a day or two, you will look the part to the life!"—a which, while encouraging, was complimentary.
He gave me a to tie my and part of my and, with that over my and in those and clothes, I must say I looked a person, the very of the sleek, well-dressed that had entered the an hour before.
"Now, Julius," said Kore humorously, "come, my lad, and we will out together the good I have for you."
A horse-cab was at the door and we entered it together. The Jew as we through the darkness. He me on my in Francis' message.
"How do you like my idea?" he said, "'Achilles in his Tent'... that is the device of the part of my business—you the parallel, do you not?' Achilles himself from the army and men like who the of peace to the of war! Clients of mine who have a education have very of the of my device."
The us at the of the Friedrich-Strasse, which was with light from end to end, and the Linien-Strasse, a narrow, of dirty houses and shops. The was all but at that hour save for an occasional policeman, but from with steps leading from the came the of and of to that the Linien-Strasse was by no means asleep.
Before one of these the Jew stopped. At the of the leading from the was a door, its panels all with from the within. Kore the way down, I following.
A of air, with rank tobacco smoke, us full as we opened the door. At I see nothing a very man, against a of smoke, at a table an of beer. Then, as the the draught, I the of a long, low-ceilinged room, with small tables set along either and a little bar, over by a female with hair, at the end. Most of the tables were occupied, and there was almost as much noise as in the place.
A woman's voice screamed: "Shut the door, can't you, I'm freezing!" I and, Kore to a table, sat down. A man in his shirt-sleeves, who was at the bar, left his beer-engine and, across the room to Kore, him cordially, and asked him what we would take.
Kore me with his elbow.
"We'll take a Boonekamp each, Haase," he said.
