As the party reached the station their happy mood was somewhat dampened, for Pauline and the great-coat were not in sight. All in vain did eager eyes pierce the darkness of night, and all were about to succumb to fate and take their seats in the car, when the long-expected one, like Schiller’s diver, appeared breathless upon the scene, holding the coat on high, and swinging it like a triumphal banner. The judge without delay slipped into the warmer garment, and indeed it was high time, for already the conductor was slamming to the doors of the other compartments,--a sharp whistle, and the train started. Our three travellers were in the rosiest mood imaginable. Helen, who had not set foot outside of the provincial town, which was now her home, since her marriage, pictured to herself the glories of Berlin in the brightest of hues, and Annchen dreamed vague, golden dreams, and indulged in exquisite air-castles, in which at the decisive moment her unknown hero was always seen leaning out of some window. The judge was gleefully rubbing his hands. “Now then--at last we are free of that miserable place,” he said, making himself comfortable in his corner of the compartment. “Now let us all go to sleep and open our eyes to-morrow morning in Berlin!” The train sped through the night air; and it was not until it had reached Berlin that the Schwarzes awoke with the proud consciousness of being in the Imperial Capital. The judge put his somewhat dishevelled head out of the window. “See the hurry and bustle of the crowd,” he said cheerfully. “This is rather different from the streets of Solau! Here the individual disappears like a drop in the ocean, and no one knows or cares what his neighbour is about. Come, children, we must get out!” He stretched himself with lazy ease, and took his hand-luggage down out of the net, then jumped down himself after his ladies. “Look you, there’s not a person knows us here,” he continued; “we can do exactly as we please for three days--it’s like being at a grand masquerade!” “Good morning, Herr Judge!” a voice cried at that moment behind him. “Shall I fetch you a cab?” The addressed started perceptibly. A porter quite unknown to himself or his ladies stood before him and held out his hand for the luggage, with a peculiar, knowing smile upon his features, then quickly piled them upon his back with skilful dexterity. “How do you know who I am?” asked the judge, somewhat irritated at this unexpected violation of his _incognito_. His unknown friend, however, had already turned upon his heel in search of a cab, and was now storing his burden upon the top. A glorious autumn morning was dawning over town, and the unknown splendour before them beckoned invitingly to our unsophisticated friends.