COMMISSIONER. That's just what I say. If a man knows his work thoroughly these things come to him. But people who are interested in the uplift movements are always in the clouds. SCHMETTAU. This Lieutenant or whatever that fellow was, behaved as though he was collecting material for a socialist newspaper. His Highness was hardly in the house five minutes when there was a loud ringing. Then, someone in heavy shoes ran up against the door like a drunken sailor. Madame de Hauteville breaks into the room and cries, "Your Highness, how unfortunate I am. The police are here," she says. "Leave them alone," I say, "they will go away presently." "Impossible," she says, "I can never permit His Highness to be found by the police in my place. I will take the blame upon myself entirely." Fancy the tact of that woman! "Impossible," she says, "that His Highness should be caught in my place." COMMISSIONER. Really, very decent! SCHMETTAU. Indeed it is. Immediately it dawns on me that she is right. The situation is getting terrible. That policeman is likely to demand His Highness' identification. What shall we do? Madame says, "For Heaven's sake hide in the wardrobe!" Outside, that fool is making quite a rumpus. He knocks, rings, shouts and barks. The neighborhood is getting aroused and heads are popping out from right and left and in the midst of this terrible commotion, there we stand--Highness and I. What shall we do? A few moments later, His Highness is cramped beside me in the wardrobe, in between different pieces of woman's apparel. With great difficulty we are able to draw our breath. STROEBEL. If I had only had an inkling about it. COMMISSIONER [angrily]. The police are expected to grasp conditions. SCHMETTAU. Then what followed? In heavy-nailed shoes the men go from room to room. Doors are opened and slammed. The fellows use loud and coarse language, and three or four times they stand in front of the wardrobe. Upon my word, I actually feel how His Highness is perspiring. Just picture to yourself the situation if that brute had opened the closet! Just picture that and you can realize how much courage I had! COMMISSIONER. You must have suffered terribly. SCHMETTAU. What I suffered does not matter. In such moments one does not think of anything else but Highness. What an outrage! Finally the steps disappear. Madame Hauteville, who throughout behaved most decently and whose conduct was above reproach, is led away and Highness and I can leave the wardrobe where we spent an entire twenty minutes. And now I ask again, "How can such mistakes happen?" COMMISSIONER [to Assessor]. You shall find the answer to this. SCHMETTAU. Upstairs the woman is still in her cell. The newspapers are full of the scandal, and Highness suffers agonies when he realizes the possibilities which can develop at any moment.