An Interview with General Bernhardi
He came into my room in that modest, Prussian way that he has, clicking his heels together, his head very erect, his neck tightly gripped in his forty-two centimeter collar. He had on a Pickelhaube, or Prussian helmet, which he removed with a sweeping gesture and laid on the sofa.
So I knew at once that it was General Bernhardi.
In spite of his age he looked—I am bound to admit it—a fine figure of a man. There was a splendid fullness about his chest and shoulders, and a suggestion of rugged power all over him. I had not heard him on the stairs. He seemed to appear suddenly beside me.
“How did you get past the janitor?” I asked. For it was late at night, and my room at college is three flights up the stairs.
“The janitor,” he answered carelessly, “I killed him.”
I gave a gasp.
“His resistance,” the general went on, “was very slight. Apparently in this country your janitors are unarmed.”
“You killed him?” I asked.
“We Prussians,” said Bernhardi, “when we wish an immediate access anywhere, always kill the janitor. It is quicker: and it makes for efficiency. It impresses them with a sense of our Furchtbarkeit. You have no word for that in English, I believe?”