and he stepped in; they went on down the street, and around several corners, until they were
certain that no car was following.
"Oh, I am so glad to see you!" Freddi's voice broke and he buried his face in his hands and
began to weep. "Oh, thank you, Lanny! Thank you, Irma!" He knew he oughtn't to behave like
that, but evidently he had been under a heartbreaking strain.
"Forget it, kid," said the "Aryan." He had to drive, and keep watch in the mirror of the car.
"Tell us—have you heard from Papa?"
"Not a word."
"Has anything been published?"
"Nothing."
"You have no idea where he's been taken?"
"No idea. We dare not go to the authorities, you know."
"Are Mama and Rahel and the baby all right?"
"They were when I left them."
"You're not staying together?"
"We're afraid of attracting attention. Mama is staying with one of our old servants.
Rahel and the baby with her father's family."
"And you?"
"I slept in the Tiergarten last night."
"Oh, Freddi!" It was Irma's cry of dismay.
"It was all right—not cold."
"You don't know anyone who would shelter you?"
"Plenty of people—but I might get them into trouble as well as myself. The fact that a
Jew appears in a new place may suggest that he's wanted—and you can't imagine the
way it is, there are spies everywhere—servants, house-wardens, all sorts of people seeking
to curry favor with the Nazis. I couldn't afford to let them catch me before I had a
talk with you."
"Nor afterward," said Lanny. "We're going to get all of you out of the country. It might
be wiser for you and the others to go at once—because it's plain that you can't do
anything to help Papa."
"We couldn't go even if we were willing," replied the unhappy young man. "Papa had
our exit permits, and now the Nazis have them."
He told briefly what had happened. The family with several servants had gone to
Bremerhaven by the night train and to the yacht by taxis. Just as they reached the
dock a group of Brownshirts stopped them and told Papa that he was under arrest. Papa
asked, very politely, if he might know why, and the leader of the troop spat directly in
his face and called him a Jew-pig. They pushed him into a car and took him away,
leaving the others standing aghast. They didn't dare go on board the yacht, but
wandered along the docks, carrying their bags. They talked it over and decided that
they could do no good to Papa by getting themselves arrested. Both Freddi and Rahel
were liable to be sent to concentration camps on account of their Socialist activities; so they
decided to travel separately to Berlin and stay in hiding until they could get word to their
friends.
III
Freddi said: "I had only a little money when I was going on board the yacht, and I had to pay
my fare back here."
Lanny took out his billfold and wanted to give him a large sum, but he said no, it might be
stolen, or, if he was arrested, the Nazis would get it; better a little bit at a time. He started to
say that Papa would make it all good, but Lanny told him not to be silly; whatever he needed
was his.
"Where are you going to stay?" asked Irma, and he said he would join the crowd in
one would pay any attention to him there, no one would call him a Jew-pig. He hoped the wait
wouldn't be too long.
Lanny had to tell him it might be quite a while. His activities would be in the higher circles,
and things did not move rapidly there; you had to apply the social arts. Freddi said: "I hope
poor Papa can stand it."
"He will be sure that we are doing our best," replied Lanny; "so at least he will have hope."
The American didn't go into detail concerning his plans, because he feared that Freddi might
be tempted to impart some of it to his wife or his mother; then, too, there was the fearful
possibility that the Nazis might drag something out of him by torture—and he surely wouldn't
tell what he didn't know. Lanny said: "You can always write or call me at the hotel and make an
appointment to show me some art."
They contrived a private code. Pictures by Bouguereau would mean that everything was all
right, whereas Goya would mean danger. Lanny said: "Think of something to say about a
painting that will convey whatever you have in mind." He didn't ask the addresses of the other
members of the family, knowing that in case of need they, too, could write him or phone him
about paintings. Freddi advised that they should meet as seldom as possible, because an
expensive automobile driven by foreigners was a conspicuous object, and persons who got into it
or out of it might be watched.
They stopped for a while on a quiet residence street and talked. Freddi's mind was absorbed by
the subject of concentration camps; he had heard so many horrible stories, some of which he
couldn't repeat in Irma's presence. He said: "Oh, suppose they are doing such things to Papa!"
Later he said: "Have you thought what you would do if you had to stand such things?"
