ry you may still find him
at the Law Courts. In the next street. Examining Judge Schultz."

And the door was shut.

So they went to the Law Courts, and hurried up and down staircases and
along endless corridors, vainly looking for someone to direct them to
Examining Judge Schultz. The building was empty; they did not meet a
soul, and they went down one passage after the other, anguish in Anna's
heart, and misery hardly less acute in Manske's. At last they heard
distant voices echoing through the emptiness. They followed the sound,
and found two women cleaning.

"Can you direct me to the room of the Examining Judge Schultz?" asked
Manske, bowing politely.

"The gentlemen have all gone home. Business hours are over," was the
answer. Could they perhaps give his private address? No, they could not;
perhaps the porter knew. Where was the porter? Somewhere about.

They hurried downstairs again in search of the porter. Another ten
minutes was wasted looking for him. They saw him at last through the
glass of the entrance door, airing himself on the steps.

The porter gave them the address, and they lost some more minutes trying
to find their _Droschke_, for they had come out at a different entrance
to the one they had gone in by. By this time Manske was speechless, and
Anna was half dead.

They climbed three flights of stairs to the Examining Judge's flat, and
after being kept waiting a long while--"_Der Herr Untersuchungsrichter
ist bei Tisch_," the slovenly girl had announced--were told by him very
curtly that they must go to the Public Prosecutor for the order. Anna
went out without a word. Manske bowed and apologised profusely for
having disturbed the _Herr Untersuchungsrichter_ at his repast; he felt
the necessity of grovelling before these persons whose power was so
almighty. The Examining Judge made no reply whatever to these piteous
amiabilities, but turned on his heel, leaving them to find the door as
best they could.

The Public Prosecutor lived at the other end of the town. They neither
of them spoke a word on the way there. In answer to their anxious
inquiry whether they could speak to him, the woman who opened the door
said that her master was asleep; it was his hour for repose, having just
supped, and he could not possibly be disturbed.

Anna began to cry. Manske gripped hold of her hand and held it fast,
patting it while he continued to question the servant. "He will see no
one so late," she said. "He