But the Frenchman’s demands proved much more modest. He said that he wanted to settle a wager, and that the chauffeur would merely have to wait before the house in the Billrothstrasse until he, M. Dufresne, would enter the car with a presumably very tipsy gentleman. Thereupon the automobile was to go townward to the Opera, where the Frenchman would get out. Then the ride was to continue to the large insane asylum in Steinhof, far out in the extreme southwestern section of the city. There the chauffeur was to wait until his inebriated fare would give a sign of life. This was followed by further detailed instructions for the quick-witted chauffeur. Everything went off as had been planned. Even before the car reached the Opera Herr Krötzl, after a violent attack of sickness, was enjoying the sleep of the just tippler, so that his companion could leave him without any difficulty. While Leo hastened to the Parliament the chauffeur continued on his half hour’s ride to Steinhof; once there he calmly stopped in the middle of the road, and smoked one of Leo’s good cigarettes after the other. It was nearly two o’clock when Herr Krötzl finally woke up, his head throbbing. Minutes passed before he remembered where he was, and realized that he was all alone in an automobile, and covered with filth from head to foot. Finally, after some more minutes, he saw that he was not before the Parliament Building at all, but in the immediate vicinity of the insane asylum in Steinhof. Confused he consulted his watch, which, being an hour slow, pointed to one o’clock. Horrified, Krötzl flung open the door, and vented a furious flood of abuse on the chauffeur, who declared with equanimity that he had understood Steinhof to be indicated as the goal, and that the other gentleman had got out on the way. Thereupon Krötzl tore his hair, wept and shouted, almost went raving mad, called the chauffeur a traitor, hinted at a fearful conspiracy and revenge, and finally pleaded with the driver, who was fast losing his polite attitude, to drive to the Parliament Building at full speed. The car actually went back about a thousand yards; then, however, it stopped, far away from any human habitation, and the chauffeur, shrugging his shoulders, announced that he could not go on, as the motor was out of order. Entirely sober by this time, Krötzl now sprinted the thousand yards back to the insane asylum. There he confronted the door-man with so much vehemence that the good fellow took him for an escaped inmate, and summoned some keepers. Another half hour passed before Krötzl was taken to a telephone; he could not, of course, be connected with the Parliament Building immediately, as all its lines were busy; and when he finally did get his connection, and the secretary of his party came to the other end of the wire, a voice shouted in his ear that he was a drunken swine, a crook, bought and paid for by the Jews, and that all was over long ago.