The plans in Mabuse’s head succeeded one another as rapidly as the trees in a forest in which he wandered continually further. Ever more steps to climb, more gulfs to cross! Were they really plans after all? Were they not dreams? he asked himself, suddenly checking the thoughts that were racing through his mind. “Five million Swiss francs are now worth about twenty-five million lire, i.e. five million Italian five-lire pieces. Each of these weighs twenty grams. Five million, will that be enough? It’s a good idea, for the gain on every five-lire piece which I buy at to-day’s rate with Swiss francs is four francs; therefore the total gain will be four million Swiss francs. Against that the costs are thirty per cent. Good! Each one, I said, weighs twenty grams. Now, how many kilograms are there in five million times twenty grams? A hundred million grams? Why cannot I think out these simple calculations clearly? Am I afraid of anything?” Yes, there again he found himself in another forest. “Am I afraid, really afraid? If I am, I shall come to grief. After all, who is Hull? Who is Wenk? What absurdity! _I_ ... afraid?” He collected his ideas, and sent these thoughts packing. “A hundred million grams make a hundred thousand kilograms. According to the district he is in, a smuggler can carry from ten to fifteen kilos every time. How many men am I employing in this work alone? The whole amount must be brought from Italy to the Southern Tyrol and thence to Switzerland within a month. The Austrian frontiers are easier, even if I have to employ twice the number. Spoerri reckoned the risk to be only three per cent., according to the police reports, as against ten per cent. by Lake Constance or the Ticino frontier, where the Customs officials, even in peace-time, used to regard everybody with suspicion.” Mabuse’s imagination threatened to run away with him again. Should he not try to sleep? “Where are we?” he called through the speaking-tube. “At Buchloe!” was the reply. The distance from Buchloe to Röthenbach was eighteen kilometres. “That will take two hours,” he reflected; “then we shall do it comfortably. At 2 p.m. we must be at Schachen, and before that we meet Spoerri at Opfenbach and Pesch on the Lindau Hill. After that we shall be practically in Schachen, and there will be no chance of sleep.” But he could not regain control of himself. Wenk’s attempt at pursuit oppressed him. In the Palace Hotel he had only had ten minutes’ start of him.