While the Hospital Corps man who accompanied them went in search of a taxicab the two young officers stood looking curiously about them. Alan had but once in his life passed through Berlin and Bob had never set foot in it, but this was not the reason for their motionless absorption. There was something strangely restless and uneasy about the crowd surging through the streets, hurrying in every direction, or stopping short to exchange excited words. A kind of suspense hung over the city, a tense expectation of disaster, perceptible even to strangers casually entering the capital.
“What’s wrong with them, anyway, Alan?” asked Bob, completely puzzled. “They look frightened. What can they be afraid of?”
“There’s something going on, that’s certain,” Alan responded, doubtfully too. “Here’s our taxi, anyway. Let’s get to the hotel.”
Miller, the Hospital Corps man, had managed, with the aid of a policeman, to find a ramshackle old vehicle, much the worse for wear, driven by a man who looked as frightened as the rest of the population and almost ran into the curb as he drew up before the station.
“A nice car you picked out, Miller,” remarked Bob as they got in. “Hotel Adlon,” he told the driver.
“Best I could do, sir,” declared Miller, getting in after them. “There’s some sort of a row on here.”
To Bob’s and Alan’s surprise the policeman climbed up beside the driver and began talking volubly to him, evidently silencing the man’s uneasy protests. The taxicab started off jerkily, the motor missing explosions so frequently that Bob pricked up his ears, thinking of his airplane the night he had fallen. “We shan’t get far in this,” he prophesied.
Alan was staring through the dirty window. A light snow had fallen over the city, but now the sky was clearing and the sun shone from behind drifting clouds. The same hurrying, debating, anxious crowd filled the streets as the taxicab turned into the fine avenue of Unter den Linden and approached the Pariser Platz and the more populous part of the city. Half a mile from the station shots echoed from beyond a building close at hand. A group of men ran out from behind a wall. The crowd shrieked, and some soldiers, suddenly appearing, plunged after the fugitives.
The policeman beside the taxi driver shouted in his ear. The man shook his head with every sign of unwillingness, but put on speed nevertheless, and drove rapidly through the disorderly throng, dodging the people as best he could.
“There’s a bit of a tittup here, Bob, and no mistake,” said Alan, his face toward the window. “Do you 'Sprechen sie Deutsch’ enough to ask the bobby to explain?”