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for his beloved leader, but to bring the Führer's old friend, Heinrich Jung, and the young

American, Lanny Budd, who had visited the Führer in Berlin several years ago. Lanny would bring

a sample of the paintings of Marcel Detaze, who was then having a one-man exhibition and

had been highly praised in the press. The secretary promised to put the matter before the

Chancellor in person, and the Komponist stated where he could be reached. Needless to say, it

added to his importance that he was staying at the most fashionable of Munich's hotels, with

its fancy name, "The Four Seasons."

IV

Irma invited Kurt into her boudoir for a private chat. She was in a conspiracy with him against

her husband—for her husband's own good, of course; and Kurt, who had had professional training

in intrigue, was amused by this situation. A sensible young wife, and it might be the saving of

Lanny if he could be persuaded to follow her advice. Irma explained that Lanny had been

behaving rationally on this trip, and was doing very well with his picture business, which seemed

to interest him more than anything else; but he still had Freddi on his conscience, and was

convinced that Freddi was innocent of any offense. "I can't get him to talk about it," said Irma,

"but I think somebody has told him that Freddi is a prisoner in a concentration camp. It has

become a sort of obsession with him."

"He is loyal to his friends," said the Komponist, "and that's a fine quality. He has, of course, no

real understanding of what the Jews have done to Germany, the corrupting influence they

have been in our national life."

"What I'm afraid of," explained Irma, "is that he might be tempted to bring up the subject to

the Führer. Do you think that would be bad?"

"It might be very unfortunate for me. If the Führer thought that I had brought Lanny for that

purpose, it might make it impossible for me ever to see him again."

"That's what I feared; and perhaps it would be wise if you talked to Lanny about it and

warned him not to do it. Of course don't tell him that I spoke to you on the subject."

"Naturally not. You may always rely on my discretion. It will be easy for me to bring up the

subject, because Lanny spoke to me about Freddi in Stubendorf."

So it came about that Lanny had a talk with Kurt without being under the necessity of

starting it and having Kurt think that that was why he had been invited to Munich. Lanny

assured his old friend that he had no idea of approaching the Führer about the matter; he

realized that it would be a grave breach of propriety. But Lanny couldn't help being worried

about his Jewish friend, and Kurt ought to be worried too, having played so many duets with

him and knowing what a fine and sensitive musician he was. Lanny said: "I have met one of

Freddi's old associates, and I know that he is under arrest. I could never respect myself if I

didn't try to do something to aid him."

Thus the two resumed their old intimacy; Kurt, one year or so the elder, still acting as

mentor, and Lanny, the humble and diffident, taking the role of pupil. Kurt explained the

depraved and antisocial nature of Juda, and Lanny let himself be convinced. Kurt explained the

basic fallacies of Social-Democracy, one of the Jewish perversions of thought, and how it had let

itself be used as a front for Bolshevism—even when, as in the case of Freddi, its devotees were

ignorant of what base purposes they were serving. Lanny listened attentively, and became more

and more acquiescent, and Kurt became correspondingly affectionate in his mood. At the end of

the conversation Kurt promised that if they had the good fortune to be received by the Führer,

he would study the great man's moods, and if it could be done without giving offense, he

would bring up the subject of Lanny's near-relative and ask the Führer to do the favor of

ordering his release, upon Lanny's promise to take him out of Germany andsee to it that he

didn't write or speak against the Fatherland.

"But don't you bring up the subject," warned Kurt. Lanny promised solemnly that he

wouldn't dream of committing such a breach of propriety.

V

They waited in the hotel until the message came. The Führer would be pleased to see them at

the Braune Haus next morning; and be sure they would be on hand!

It proved to be one of those early winter days when the sun is bright and the air intoxicating,

and they would have liked to walk to the appointment; but they were taking the picture,

Sister of Mercy, so Lanny would drive them. Heinrich, who had learned as a youth to labor

with his hands, offered to carry the burden into the Braune Haus, but Beauty insisted that

things had to be done with propriety, by a uniformed attendant from the hotel. She her self

called up the management to arrange matters, and they fell over themselves to oblige. No charge,

Frau Budd, and a separate car if you wish—what hotel in all Germany would not be honored to

transport a picture to the Führer? The word spread like wildfire through the establishment, and

the three young men were the cynosure of all eyes. The Führer, they learned, had been a

familiar figure in this fashionable hotel; for many years he had been entertained here by two of his

wealthy supporters, one of them a piano manufacturer and the other a Prussian Graf whose wife

was conspicuous because of her extreme friendliness with the bellhops. Irma knew all about

this, for the reason that she was practicing her German on one of the women employees of the

establishment. One would never lack for gossip in a grand hotel of Europe!

The Braune Haus is on the Briennerstrasse, celebrated as one of the most beautiful streets in

Germany; a neighborhood reserved for millionaires, princes, and great dignitaries of state

and church. In fact, the palace of the Papal Nuncio was directly across the street, and so the

representatives of the two rival faiths of Munich could keep watch upon each other from their

windows. The princely delegate of the lowly Jewish carpenter looked across to a square-fronted

three-story building set far back from the street and protected by high fences; on top of it a

large swastika flag waved in the breeze which blew from the snow-clad Alps; in front of its

handsome doorway stood day and night two armed Stormtroopers. If the Catholic prelate

happened to be on watch that morning he saw a luxurious Mercedes car stop in front of the Nazi

building and from it descend a blond and blue-eyed young Nazi official in uniform, a tall

Prussian ex-artillery captain with a long and somewhat severe face, and a fashionably attired

young American with brown hair and closely trimmed mustache; also a hotel attendant in a

gray uniform with brass buttons, carrying a large framed picture wrapped in a cloth.

These four strode up the walk, and all but the burden-bearer gave the Nazi salute. Heinrich's

uniform carried authority, and they came into an entrance hall with swastikas, large and small,

on the ceiling, the windows, the doorknobs, the lamp-brackets, the grillework. They were a little

ahead of time, so Heinrich led them up the imposing stairway and showed them the

Senatorensaal, with memorial tablets for the Nazi martyrs outside the doors. Inside were forty

standards having bronze eagles, and handsome red leather armchairs for the "senators," whoever

they were—they couldn't have met very often, for the Führer gave all the orders. "Prachtvoll!"

was the comment of Heinrich and Kurt. Lanny had the traitor thought: "This came out of the