They had walked on, eagerly discussing the possible cause of this unusual occurrence, and suddenly they discovered that they had lost their bearings. “Where are we, anyway?” asked Annchen with a trembling voice. “I thought we were to be in Unter den Linden by this time?” “That is so, Karl,” added Helen; “you are taking us nobody knows where! These streets are not at all attractive, and I am tired out!” Karl forthwith produced his tremendous map of the town. “Wait one moment,” he said with dignity; “I’ll tell you immediately.” And he then and there unfolded the enormous sheet. A playful morning wind, however, mercilessly jerked it hither and thither, and there was nothing for it but to beg the ladies to stand on either side as banner-holders, and help him save it from destruction. But it took Karl longer than he thought to find his way about, and while he was still engaged in the effort, a tall, elegant-looking man walked down the street, and, with evident amusement, glanced at the conspicuous group, especially noting the charming person of little Annchen. The face of the stranger wore a pleasant, good-humoured expression, and, moreover, was so handsome and attractive that there was no perceptible reason why Annchen, raising her eyes at that moment, should suddenly blush to the roots of her hair, her hand at the same time trembling so that she could scarcely hold the map over which Karl and Helen were still chanting a woful duet in search of their hotel. The stranger, evidently struck by the appearance of the lovely, embarrassed girl, walked on slowly and then turned and came back. There was undisguised merriment and a half-controlled laugh upon his lips as he passed around behind Karl and before the fair banner-holders. “Good morning, Herr Judge Schwarz,” he said, taking his hat off low to the ladies, and turned to pass on his way. But he had reckoned without his host. In a paroxysm of rage the judge darted after him. “Sir, what does this mean? How do you know my name and title?” he cried, panting with indignation, while Helen vainly tried to appease him. Karl shook off her hand impatiently. “How can you have the effrontery to address me by my name?” he repeated in a tone of thunder. “My dear sir,” replied the stranger, laughing, “if your name is to be kept secret, allow me to call your attention to the fact that it would be the part of wisdom not to wear it plainly upon your back!” Karl gazed upon the stranger in speechless astonishment. Helen turned her husband dexterously around. Ah, here was the solution of the riddle! That benighted furrier had forgotten, in the press of business, to remove the slip of paper from the judge’s great-coat, by which that valuable garment had been distinguished from others entrusted to his keeping, and poor Karl had been walking about for an hour in Berlin with an enormous placard on his back bearing the inscription, “Herr Judge Schwarz!”