He walked away cheerfully, and patiently did the principal sights of Berlin, in the secret hope that fortune would favour him and bring about a meeting between him and the Schwarz family. But for the present this hope came to naught.
Meanwhile our party had set out on their trip of pleasure. First they had devoted themselves to show-windows, and with many an admiring ejaculation had come to the conclusion that Berlin was the only place worth sojourning in. Then they pantingly followed two closed Imperial carriages, and endeavoured to make each other believe that they had caught a sight of the persons within. Finally, after the museum had been hurried through with profound awe and moderate comprehension, they all experienced decided pangs of hunger, and, with the intention of dining cosily together, they entered a superb restaurant on the ground floor.
The judge escorted his ladies to an inviting little table near one of the windows, from where one had a fine view of the streets and the busy crowds—not, to be sure, with the additional advantage mentioned in the well-known song—
“Across the lands we gaze, oh!
While we are all unseen——,”
for every glass of wine and every forkful of meat could be closely scrutinised by the passers-by.
But the pleasing knowledge of being quite unknown comforted the judge for this drawback of his position.
The waiter’s question as to what they wished to have for dinner might have appeared as an insult to the judge in his exceeding love of secrecy; being, however, very hungry he generously forgave him, and the three together assiduously studied the menu, which sported a variety of names which might have been made to stand for almost anything, so that whatever one ordered there was always a pleasant surprise in view.
Soon a bottle with a promising silvery cork stood upon the table in a dainty cooler, and the judge was just raising his glass to drink the ladies’ health: “Children,” he said, “I can’t tell you how delightful this is, to feel that one is sitting here free of all good friends and neighbours. Here’s to our incognito!”
There was a playful tap at the window. Karl, poor fellow, started as if he had beheld a ghost—indeed I know not but a ghost even would have been a more welcome sight at that particular moment than the smiling face of Herr Lebermann, who, with the unmistakable consciousness of giving the judge and his family a great and unexpected pleasure, pressed his nose flat against the window-pane.