“Sit down!” he said in his toneless voice, which occasionally held the morbid dryness of things burnt. He sat down beside him, not taking his hand from the arm. “You waited for me—in vain and in vain.... I could not send you a message, forgive me!” “I have nothing to forgive you, Mr. Freder,” said Josaphat, quietly. “I did not wait for you.... On the evening on which I was to have waited for you, I was far, far away from Metropolis and from you....” Freder’s waiting eyes looked at him. “I betrayed you, Mr. Freder,” said Josaphat. Freder smiled, but Josaphat’s eyes extinguished his smile. “I betrayed you, Mr. Freder,” repeated the man. “Slim came to me.... He offered me much money.... But I only laughed.... I threw it at his head. But then he laid on the table a slip with your father’s signature.... You must believe me, Mr. Freder. He would never have caught me with the money. There is no sum of money for which I would have sold you.... But when I saw your father’s handwriting.... I still put up a fight. I would gladly have throttled him. But I had no more strength.... JOH FREDERSEN was written on the slip.... I had no more strength then....” “I can understand that,” said Joh Fredersen’s son. “Thank you.... I was to go away from Metropolis—right far away.... I flew.... The pilot was a strange man. We kept flying straight towards the sun. The sun was setting. Then it occurred to my empty brain that now the hour would come in which I was to wait for you. And I should not be there when you came.... I wanted to turn back. I asked the pilot. He wouldn’t. He wanted to carry me away by force, farther and farther from Metropolis. He was as obstinate as only a man can be when he knows Slim’s will to be behind him. I begged and I threatened. But nothing was of any use. So then, with one of his own tools, I smashed in his skull.” Freder’s fingers, which were still resting on Josaphat’s arm, tightened their hold a little; but they lay still again immediately. “Then I jumped out, and I was so far away from Metropolis that a young girl who picked me up in the field did not know the great Metropolis even by name.... I came here and found no message from you, and all that I found out was that you were ill....” He hesitated and was silent, looking at Freder. “I am not ill,” said Freder, looking straight ahead. He loosened his fingers from Josaphat’s arm and bent forward, laying the palms of both hands flat on his head. He spoke into space.... “But do you believe, Josaphat, that I am mad?” “No.” “But I must be,” said Freder, and he shrank together, so narrow that it seemed as if a little boy, filled with a mighty fear, were sitting in his place. His voice sounded suddenly quite high and thin and something in it brought the water to Josaphat’s eyes. Josaphat stretched out his hand, fumbled, and found Freder’s shoulder. His hand closed around his neck and drew him gently towards him, holding him still and fast.