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married in a hurry, and the yacht and its gay-spirited owner had provided them with a way of

escape from the dominion of the Archbishop of Canterbury.

Now the yacht was going to transport them to Utopia, or to some tropical isle with an ivory

tower on it—any place in the world where there were no Nazis yelling and parading and

singing songs about Jewish blood spurting from the knife. Oil-burning vessels make no

smudges of smoke on the horizon, so they must look for a dim speck that grew gradually

larger. Many such appeared from the east, but when they got larger they were something else.

So the party went to lunch, fourteen at one long table, and it was quite a job getting them

settled and all their orders taken and correctly distributed. Belonging to the important classes

as they did, neither they nor their servants must do anything to attract attention to themselves

in public, and this was impressed on a member of the family even at the age of three. Hush,

hush, Baby!

They sat on the esplanade and watched all afternoon. Some of them took a swim, some looked

at the sights of the town—the four-hundred-year-old bastion, the citadel, the church of Notre

Dame with a painting by Rubens. They bought postcards and mailed them to various friends.

Every now and then they would inspect the harbor again, but still there was no trim white

Bessie Budd. Again they had tables put together in the restaurant, and the fourteen had

supper; they went out and watched till dark—but still no sign of the yacht.

They were beginning to be worried. Johannes had set a definite hour for leaving Bremerhaven,

and he was a precise man who did everything on time and had his employees do the same. If

anything unforeseen had turned up he would surely have telegraphed or telephoned. He had

specified in his last letter what hotel they should go to, so that he would know where to look

for them. They had sailed so often with him that they knew how many hours it would take to

reach Calais, and it had been planned for the yacht to arrive simultaneously with the train from

Paris. She was now twelve hours overdue.

Something must have happened, and they spent time discussing possibilities. Private yachts

which are properly cared for do not have machinery trouble in calm weather, nor do they butt

into the Frisian islands on the way from Germany to France. They travel as safely by night as

by day; but of course some fisherman's boat or other obstruction might conceivably have got in

the way. "Tire trouble!" said Lanny, the motorist.

VIII

When it was bedtime and still no word, he went to the telephone and put in a call for the

yacht Bessie Budd at Bremerhaven—that being the quickest way to find out if she had taken

her departure. Hansi and Bess sat with him, and after the usual delays he heard a guttural voice

saying in German: "Dieselmotorjacht Bessie Budd."

"Wer spricht?" inquired Lanny.

"Pressmann."

"Wer ist Pressmann?"

"Reichsbetriebszellenabteilung Gruppenführerstelhertreter." The Germans carry such titles

proudly and say them rapidly.

"What are you doing on board the yacht?"

"Auskmift untersagt," replied the voice. Information forbidden!

"But the yacht was supposed to sail yesterday!"

"Auskunft untersagt."

"Aber, bitte—"

"Leider, nicbt erlaubt"—and that was all. "Sorry, not permitted!" The receiver clicked, and

Lanny, aghast, listened on a dead wire.

"My God!" he exclaimed. "Can the Nazis have seized the Bessie Budd?" Hansi went white and

Bess dug her nails into the palms of her hands. "Why would they do that!" she exclaimed.

"I don't know," answered Lanny, "unless one of them wanted a yacht."

"They have arrested Papa!" whispered Hansi. He looked as if he was about to keel over, and

Bess caught him by the shoulders. "Oh, Hansi! Poor Hansi!" It was characteristic that she

thought of him. He was the one who would suffer most!

It was as if a bolt of lightning had fallen from the sky and blasted their plans, turned their

pleasures into a nightmare of suffering. Utter ruin, doom without escape—that was the way it

appeared, and none could think of anything to say to comfort the others. More than thirty-six

hours had passed since the scheduled sailing, and was it conceivable that Johannes would

have delayed that length of time to get word to his friends? If any member of the family was at

liberty, would that person have failed to communicate?

Just one other possibility: they might have been "tipped off" and have made their escape.

They might be on their way out of Germany; or they might be hiding somewhere, not daring to

wire. In the latter case they would use the method which they had already resorted to, of an

unsigned letter. If such a letter was on the way it was to be expected in the morning.

"I'll try Berlin," said Lanny. Anything to break that dreadful spell of inaction! He put in a

call for the Robin palace, and when he got the connection, an unfamiliar voice answered.

Lanny asked if Johannes Robin was there, and the stranger tried to find out who was calling;

when Lanny gave his name, the other started to put him through a questioning as to his reasons

for calling. When Lanny insisted upon knowing to whom he was talking, the speaker abruptly

hung up. And that again could mean only one thing: the Nazis had seized the palace!

"I must go and help Papa!" exclaimed Hansi, and started up as if to run to the station right

away, or perhaps to the airplane field if there was one. Lanny and Bess caught him at the same

moment. "Sit down," commanded the brother-in-law, "and be sensible. There's not a thing

you can do in Germany but get yourself killed."

"I certainly must try, Lanny."

"You certainly must not! There's nobody they would better like to get hold of."

"I will go under another name."

"With false passports? You who have played on so many concert stages? Our enemies have

brains, Hansi, and we have to show that we have some, too."

"He is right," put in Bess. "Whatever is to be done, I'm the one to do it."

Lanny turned upon her. "They know you almost as well as Hansi, and they will be looking

for you."

"They won't dare do anything to an American."

"They've been doing it pretty freely. And besides, you're not an American, you're the wife of a

German citizen, and that makes you one." All four of the Robins had made themselves citizens

of the Weimar Republic, because they believed in it and planned to live their lives there. "So

that's out," declared Lanny. "You both have to give me your word of honor not to enter

Germany, and not to come anywhere near the border, where they might kidnap you. Then

Irma and I will go in and see what we can find out."

"Oh, will you do it, Lanny?" Hansi looked at his brother-in-law with the grateful eyes of a

dog.

"I promise for myself. I'm guessing that Irma will go along, but of course I'll have to ask her."

IX

Irma was in her room resting, and he went to her alone. He couldn't be sure how she

would take this appalling news, and he wanted to give her a chance to make up her mind

before it was revealed to anybody else. Irma was no reformer and no saint; she was a young

woman who had always had her own way and had taken it for granted that the world existed to

give it to her. Now fate was dealing her a nasty blow.

She sat staring at her husband in consternation; she really couldn't bring herself to realize