say, for six mouths
must be fed, and where is food to come from? There will be no removal
expenses anyhow, for there will soon be nothing but the bare walls.
There's no question of paying the rent, and never will be, as far as I
can see; so I thought I had better ask what was to be done with the
poor things."

"What can we do?"

"We could seize the bits of sticks they still have, though that would
not cover the rent that is owing. The best thing, perhaps, would be to
tell Frau Wander just to take her things and clear out; then at least
we could relet the rooms."

"Frau Wander does not work?"

"How can she?--five children, and the youngest still at the breast."

"I will see to it myself, and let you know what is to be done."

"Very good, Herr Doctor," said Stubbe, much relieved. He had a kind
heart and it was only his strict sense of duty that led him to mention
the case of the Wanders, and particularly the unpermissible selling of
the furniture, to the owner of the house.

Stubbe had barely reached home before Wilhelm appeared in the
Kochstrasse. His house lay between the Charlotten and
Markgrafenstrasse, and was an old and unpretentious structure, looking,
among the stately houses of a later period which surrounded it on all
sides, like a poor relation at a rich and distinguished family
gathering. During the "milliard years," building speculators had
offered him considerable sums for the ground, but he was not to be
prevailed upon to sell the house left him by his father. It was only
seven windows wide, and had consisted originally of one story only, but
a low second story had been added, recognizable instantly as a piece of
patchwork. A great key hanging over the entrance announced the fact
that there was a locksmith's workshop inside. The courtyard was very
low and narrow, and roughly paved with cobblestones, between which the
grass sprouted luxuriantly. At the further end of this court stood the
"Hinterhaus," likewise two-storied, on the ground floor of which the
locksmith carried on his resounding trade.

Accompanied by Stubbe, Wilhelm mounted the worn wooden staircase
leading to the second floor. The flat consisted of a kitchen and a room
with one window. Even when the sun was most lavish of his rays, it was
none too light there; now, in the early-falling dusk of a dull late
autumn day, Wilhelm found himself in a dim half-light as he opened the
door. There was no fire in the stove, no lamp upon the tabl