road corridor, hung with rich
tapestries, the polished parquet glistening faintly in the dim light,
through splendid suites of gilded apartments with old pictures and
splendid furniture... here a lackey with powdered hair yawning on a
landing, there a sentry in field-grey immobile before a door...I was in
the Berlin Schloss.

The Castle seemed to sleep. A hushed silence lay over all. Everywhere
lights were dim, staircases wound down into emptiness, corridors
stretched away into dusky solitude. Now and then an attendant in evening
dress tiptoed past us or an officer vanished round a corner, noiselessly
save for a faint clink of spurs.

Thus we traversed, as it seemed to me, miles of silence and of twilight,
and all the time my blood hammered at my temples and my throat grew dry
as I thought of the ordeal that stood before me. To whom was I thus
bidden, secretly, in the night?

We were in a broad and pleasant passage now, panelled in cheerful light
brown oak with red hangings. After the desolation of the State
apartments, this comfortable corridor had at least the appearance of
leading to the habitation of man. A giant trooper in field-grey with a
curious silver gorget suspended round his neck by a chain paced up and
down the passage, his jackboots making no sound upon the soft, thick
carpet with which the floor was covered.

The man in green stopped at the door. Holding up a warning hand to me,
he bent his head and listened. There was a moment of absolute silence.
Not a sound was to be heard throughout the whole Castle. Then the man in
green knocked softly and was admitted, leaving me outside.

A moment later, the door swung open again. A tall, elegant man with grey
hair and that indefinite air of good breeding that you find in every man
who has spent a life at court, came out hurriedly. He looked pale and
harassed.

On seeing me, he stopped short.

"Dr. Grundt? Where is Dr. Grundt?" he asked and his eyes dropped to my
feet. He started and raised them to my face.

The trooper had drifted out of earshot. I could see him, immobile as a
statue, standing at the end of the corridor. Except for him and us, the
passage was deserted.

Again the elderly man spoke and his voice betrayed his anxiety.

"Who are you?" he asked almost in a whisper. "What have you done with
Grundt? Why has he not come?"

Boldly I took the plunge.

"I am Semlin," I said.

"Semlin," echoed the other, "--ah yes! the Embassy in Washington