The fellow whom I saw wore a brown wide-awake hat. The hat was pulled down low over his forehead, but nevertheless beneath its rim there appeared a white bandage running round his head. I could not see the face, but the bullet-shaped skull was very familiar to me. I was sure from the first moment that the bandaged man was Bauer. Saying nothing to Bernenstein, I began to steal round outside the crowd. As I went, I heard somebody saying that it was all nonsense; the king was not there: what should the king do in such a house? The answer was a reference to one of the first loungers; he replied that he did not know what the devil the king did there, but that the king or his double had certainly gone in, and had as certainly not yet come out again. I wished I could have made myself known to them and persuaded them to go away; but my presence would have outweighed my declarations, and been taken as a sure sign that the king was in the house. So I kept on the outskirts and worked my way unobtrusively towards the bandaged head. Evidently Bauer’s hurt had not been so serious as to prevent him leaving the infirmary to which the police had carried him: he was come now to await, even as I was awaiting, the issue of Rudolf’s visit to the house in the Konigstrasse.
He had not seen me, for he was looking at No. 19 as intently as Rischenheim. Apparently neither had caught sight of the other, or Rischenheim would have shown some embarrassment, Bauer some excitement. I wormed my way quickly towards my former servant. My mind was full of the idea of getting hold of him. I could not forget Bernenstein’s remark, “Only Bauer now!” If I could secure Bauer we were safe. Safe in what? I did not answer to myself, but the old idea was working in me. Safe in our secret and safe in our plan—in the plan on which we all, we here in the city, and those two at the hunting-lodge, had set our minds! Bauer’s death, Bauer’s capture, Bauer’s silence, however procured, would clear the greatest hindrance from its way.
Bauer stared intently at the house; I crept cautiously up behind him. His hand was in his trousers’ pocket; where the curve of the elbow came there with a space between arm and body. I slipped in my left arm and hooked it firmly inside his. He turned round and saw me.
“Thus we meet again, Bauer,” said I.
He was for a moment flabbergasted, and stared stupidly at me.
“Are you also hoping to see the king?” I asked.
He began to recover himself. A slow, cunning smile spread over his face.
“The king?” he asked.
“Well, he’s in Strelsau, isn’t he? Who gave you the wound on your head?”
Bauer moved his arm as though he meant to withdraw it from my grasp. He found himself tightly held.