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been subjected to; the floor seemed to sway beneath his feet. Fritz, watchful as usual, thrust a chair under him and ordered the waiter to bring him a glass of beer, while he kept encouraging Eric with whispered congratulations for the honor which had been bestowed on him. Eric sipped the beer and took out his handkerchief to wipe off perspiration from his brow. Fritz peered at him sharply, a pale smile playing over his yellowish features. He waited patiently until Eric had recovered some of his self-possession.

"What a victory!" Fritz exclaimed, clapping Eric on the shoulder.

Eric laughed nervously. "Ach, du du lieber," he stammered and rubbed his hands briskly together. "It's all such a surprise."

All good things come when you least expect them," Fritz said tritely. "Just let's hope that you'll make good and remember duty to the Reich comes before everything else. Now let's drink up!"

Fritz lifted his glass. "Congratulations and success to you!" Ceremoniously he gripped Eric's hand.

The two got up, clinked glasses and drank solemnly. When they sat down again, Fritz brought his lips close to Eric's ear.

"Heil Hitler!" he whispered hoarsely.

"Heil Hitler!" Eric responded. He felt his deep responsibility, the sudden weight of his new life and bowed his head like a man under a heavy burden. He knew that he was no longer the master of his soul, that like Faust he had sold himself to the devil of patriotism, the satanic god that demanded his full undivided loyalty. But nevertheless his pride swelled within him. Anna, for the moment, had dropped out of his consciousness. Like Titus, who gave up his dear princess for the power and pomp of his empire, he had chosen the glory of the Third Reich.