w."

Fellner was a little surprised that Muller, although he had already
taken up his hat, did not go. The sick man had seen the light flash up
in the eyes of the other as he named the sum. He thought he understood
this excitement, but it touched him unpleasantly and he sank back,
almost frightened, in his cushions as the detective bent over him with
the words "Good. Do not forget your promise, for I will save Miss Langen
or avenge her. But I do not want the money for myself. It is to go to
those who have been unjustly convicted and thus ruined for life. It may
give the one or the other of them a better chance for the future."

"And you? what good do you get from that?" asked the old gentleman,
astonished. A soft smile illumined the detective's plain features and
he answered gently, "I know then that there will be some poor fellow who
will have an easier time of it than I have had."

He nodded to Fellner, who had already grasped his hand and pressed it
hard. A tear ran down his grey beard, and long after Muller had gone the
old gentleman lay pondering over his last words.

Berner led the visitor to the door. As he was opening it, Muller asked:
"Has Egon Langen a bad scar on his right cheek?"

Berner's eyes looked his astonishment. How did the stranger know this?
And how did he come to mention this forgotten name.

"Yes, he has, but how did you know it?" he murmured in surprise. He
received no answer, for Muller was already walking quickly down the
street. The old man stared after him for some few minutes, then suddenly
his knees began to tremble. He closed the door with difficulty, and
sank down on a bench beside it. The wind had blown out the light of his
lantern; Berner was sitting in the dark without knowing it, for a sudden
terrible light had burst upon his soul, burst upon it so sharply that
he hid his eyes with his hands, and his old lips murmured, "Horrible!
Horrible! The brother against the sister."

The next morning was clear and bright. Muller was up early, for he had
taken but a few hours sleep in one of the rooms of the station, before
he set out into the cold winter morning. At the next corner he
found Amster waiting for him. "What are you doing here?" he asked in
astonishment.

"I have been thinking over what you said to me yesterday. Your profession
is as good and perhaps better than many another."

"And you come out here so early to tell me that?"

Amster smiled. "I have something else to say.