ailed me. I could not tell him that
to return to Forstadt was to begin the preparations for execution; a
point at which hesitation must be forgiven in the condemned. But before
I went I had a talk with Wetter.

He stormed Vohrenlorf's defences and burst into my room late one night.

"So we're going back, sire?" he cried. "Back to our work, back to
harness?"

"You're going too?" I asked quietly.

He threw back his hair from his forehead.

"Yes, I too," he said. "Struboff has paid me off; I have played, I have
won, I am rich, I desire to serve my country. You don't appear pleased,
sire?"

"When you serve your country, I have to set about saving mine," said I
dryly.

"Oh, you'll be glad of the distraction of public affairs," he sneered.

"Madame Mansoni-Struboff has not fulfilled my hopes of her. I thought
you'd have no leisure for politics for a long while to come."

"The pupil of Hammerfeldt speaks to me," he said with a smile. "You
would be right, very likely, but for the fact that madame has dismissed
me."

"You use a conventional phrase?"

"Well then, she has--well, yes, I do use a conventional phrase."

"I shall congratulate M. Struboff on an increased tranquillity."

The evening was chilly, and I had a bit of fire. Wetter sat looking into
it, hugging his knees and swaying his body to and fro. I stood on the
hearthrug by him.

"I have still time," he said suddenly. "I'm a young man. I can do
something still."

"You can turn me out, you think?"

"I don't want to turn you out."

"Use me, perhaps?"

"Tame you, perhaps."

I looked down at him and I laughed.

"Why do you laugh?" he asked. "I thought I should have roused that
sleeping dignity of yours."

"Oh, my friend," said I, "you will not tame me, and you will not do
great things."

"Why not?" he asked, briefly and brusquely.

"You'll play again, you'll do some mad prank, some other woman will--let
us stick to our phrase--will not dismiss you. When an irresistible force
encounters an immovable object---- You know the old puzzle?"

"Interpret your parable, O King!"

"When a great brain is joined to an impossible temper--result?"

"The result is nothing," said he, taking a fresh grip of his knees.

"Even so, even so," I nodded.

"But I have done things," he persisted.

"Yes, and then undone them. My friend, you're a tragedy." And I lit a
cigarette.

He sat where he was for a moment longer; then he sprang up with a loud
laugh.