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upward in a permanent salute. The Führer noticed him and asked: "What is this you have brought

me?"

Lanny told him, and they stood the picture on a chair, with the attendant behind it, out of

sight, holding it firmly. Hitler placed himself at a proper distance, and Lanny ceremoniously

removed the cover. Then everybody stood motionless and silent while the great man did his

looking.

"A beautiful thing!" he exclaimed. "That is my idea of a work of art. A Frenchman, you say?

You may be sure that he had German forefathers. Who is the woman?"

"She is my mother," replied Lanny. He had made that statement hundreds of times in his life

—Munich being the fifth great city in which he had assisted at an exhibition.

"A beautiful woman. You should be proud of her."

"I am," said Lanny, and added: "It is called Sister of Mercy. The painter was badly wounded in

the war, and later killed. You can see that he felt what he was painting."

"Ah, yes!" exclaimed Adi. "I too, have been wounded, and know how a soldier feels about the

women who nurse him. It would appear that great art comes only by suffering."

"So your Goethe has told us, Herr Reichskanzler."

A silence, while Hitler studied the painting some more. "A pure Aryan type," he commented;

"the spiritual type which lends itself to idealization." He looked a while longer, and said: "Pity is

one of the Aryan virtues. I doubt if the lesser races are capable of feeling it very deeply."

This went on for quite a while. The Führer looked, and then made a remark, and no one else

ventured to speak unless it was a question. "This sort of art tells us that life is full of suffering.

It should be the great task of mankind to diminish it as far as possible. You agree with that, Herr

Budd?"

"Indeed I do; and I know that it was the leading idea of Marcel's life."

"It is the task of the master race. They alone can fulfill it, because they have both the

intelligence and the good will." Lanny was afraid he was going to repeat the question: "You

agree with that?" and was trying to figure how to reply without starting an argument. But

instead the Führer went on to inform him: "That should be our guiding thought in life. Here in

this room we have three of the world's great nationalities represented: the German, the French,

the American. What a gain if these nations would unite to guard their Aryan purity and

guarantee the reign of law throughout the world! Do you see any hope for that in our time?"

"It is a goal to aim at, Herr Reichskanzler. Each must do what he can."

"You may be sure that I will, Herr Budd. Tell it to everyone you know."

The master of Germany returned to the seat at his desk. "I am obliged to you for bringing me

this portrait. I understand that you are having an exhibition?"

"Yes, Herr Reichskanzler; we should be honored if you would attend; or if you prefer, I will

bring other samples of the work."

"I wish I could arrange it. Also"—turning to Kurt—"I was hoping to have you come to my

apartment, where I have a piano. But I'm afraid I have to leave for Berlin. I was a happier man

when I had only a political party to direct; now, alas, I have a government as well, and

therefore a lover of music and art is compelled to give all his time and attention to the jealousies

and rivalries of small men."

The picture-viewing was over, and the attendant carried it out, backing away and bowing at

every step. The Führer turned to Kurt and asked about his music, and lifted a Komponist to

the skies by saying that Kurt had rendered a real service to the cause. "We have to show the

world that we National Socialists can produce talent and even genius, equal to the best of the

past. Science must be brought to reinforce inspiration so that the Herrenvolk may ascend to

new heights, and, if possible, raise the lesser tribes after them."

He turned to Heinrich. He wanted to hear all that a young official could tell him concerning

the Hitler Jugend and its progress. The efficient head of a great organization was getting data

about personalities and procedures over which he had control. He asked probing questions,

watching the respondent through half-closed eyes. He could be sure that this official was telling

him the truth, but it would be colored by the young man's enthusiastic nature. Heinrich was

hardly the one to report upon backstairs intrigue and treachery. "I wish I had more young men

like you," remarked the Reichskanzler, wistfully.

"You have thousands of them, mein Führer," replied the enraptured ex-forester; "men whom

you have never had an opportunity to meet."

"My staff try to shut me up as though I were an oriental despot," said Adi. "They talk to me

about physical danger—but I know that it is my destiny to live and complete my work."

VII

It was quite an interview, and Lanny was on pins and needles for fear the great man might rise

and say: "I am sorry, but my time is limited." Nobody could imagine anyone in a better humor;

and Lanny looked at Kurt, and would have winked at him, only Kurt was keeping his eyes fixed

upon his master and guide. Lanny tried telepathy, thinking as hard as he could: "Now! Now!"

"Mein Führer," said Kurt, "before we leave there is something which my friend Budd thinks I

ought to tell you."

"What is it?"

"A great misfortune, but not his fault. It happens that his half-sister is married into a Jewish

family."

"Dormerwetter!" exclaimed Adolf. "A shocking piece of news!"

"I should add that the husband is a fine concert violinist."

"We have plenty of Aryan artists, and no need to seek anything from that polluted race. What

is the man's name?"

"Hansi Robin."

"Robin? Robin?" repeated Hitler. "Isn't he the son of that notorious Schieber, Johannes?"

"Yes, mein Führer."

"She should divorce him." The great man turned upon Lanny. "My young friend, you should

not permit such a thing to continue. You should use your authority, you and your father and

the other men of the family."

"It happens that the couple are devoted to each other, Herr Reichskanzler; also, she is his

accompanist, and is now playing with him in a tour of the United States."

"But, Herr Budd, it is sordid and shameful to admit considerations of worldly convenience in

such a matter. Your sister is a Nordic blond like yourself?"

"Even more so."

"Yet she gets upon public platforms and advertises her ignominy! And think of what she is

doing to the future, the crime she commits against her children!"

"They have no children, Herr Reichskanzler. They are devoting their lives to art."

"It is none the less an act of racial pollution. Whether she has children or not, she is defiling

her own body. Are you not aware that the male seminal fluid is absorbed by the female, and thus

her bloodstream is poisoned by the vile Jewish emanations? It is a dreadful thing to

contemplate, and if it were a sister of mine, I would rather see her dead before my eyes; in

fact, I would strike her dead if I knew she intended to commit such an act of treason to her

race."

"I am sorry, Herr Reichskanzler; but in America we leave young women to choose their own

mates."

"And what is the result? You have a mongrel race, where every vile and debasing influence

operates freely, and every form of degradation, physical, intellectual, and moral, flourishes

unhindered. Travel that highway into hell, if you please, but be sure that we Germans are going

to preserve our purity of blood, and we are not going to let ourselves be seduced by tricky words

about freedom and toleration and humanitarianism and brotherly love and the rest. No Jew-

monster is a brother of mine, and if I find one of them attempting to cohabit with an Aryan

woman I will crush his skull, even as our Stormtrooper song demands: 'Crush the skulls of the

Jewish pack!' Pardon me if I speak plainly, but that has been my life's habit, it is the duty which

I have been sent to perform in this world. Have you read Mein Kampf?"

"Yes, Herr Reichskanzler."

"You know what I have taught in it: 'The Jew is the great instigator of the destruction of

Germany.' They are, as I have called them, 'true devils, with the brain of a monster and not that

of a man.' They are the veritable Untermenschen. There is a textbook of Hermann Gauch,

called Neue Grundlage der Rassenforschung, which is now standard in our schools and

universities, and which tells with scientific authority the truths about this odious race. Our

eminent scientist classifies the mammals into two groups, first the Aryans, and second, non-

Aryans, including the rest of the animal kingdom.

You have seen that book, by chance?"

"I have heard it discussed, Herr Reichskanzler."

"You do not accept its authority?"

"I am not a scientist, and my acceptance or rejection would carry no weight. I have heard the

point raised that Jews must be human beings because they can mate with Aryans and Nordics,

but not with non-human animals."

"Dr. Gauch says it has by no means been proved that Jews cannot mate with apes and other

simian creatures. I suggest this as an important contribution which German science can make

—to mate both male and female Jews with apes, and so demonstrate to the world the facts

which we National Socialists have been proclaiming for so many years."

VIII

The master of all Germany had got started on one of his two favorite topics, the other being

Bolshevism. Again Lanny observed the phenomenon that an audience of three was as good as

three million. The sleepy look went out of the speaker's eyes and they became fixed upon the

unfortunate transgressor in a hypnotic stare. The quiet voice rose to a shrill falsetto.

Something new appeared in the man, demonic and truly terrifying; the thrust-out finger

struck as it were hammer blows upon Lanny's mind. A young American playboy must be made to

realize the monstrous nature of the treason he was committing in condoning his sister's

defilement of the sacred Aryan blood. Somehow, at once, the evil must be averted; the man who

had been commissioned by destiny to save the world must prove his power here and now, by

bringing this strayed sheep back into the Nordic fold. "Gift!" cried the Führer of the Nazis.

"Poison! Poison.'"

Back in New England, Lanny's Great-Great-Uncle Eli Budd had told him the story of the witch-

hunt in early Massachusetts. "Fanaticism is a destroyer of mind," he had said. Here it was in

another form—the terrors, the fantasies born of soul torment, the vision of supernatural evil

powers plotting the downfall of all that was good and fair in human life. Adi really loved the

Germans: their Gemütlichkeit, their Treue und Ehre, their beautiful songs and noble symphonies,

their science and art, their culture in its thousand forms. But here was this satanic power,

plotting, scheming day and night to destroy it all. Die Juden sind schuld!

Yes, literally, the Jews were to blame for everything; Hitler called the roll of their crimes for

the ten thousandth time. They had taught revolt to Germany, they had undermined her

patriotism and discipline, and in her hour of greatest peril they had stabbed her in the back.

The Jews had helped to shackle her by the cruel Diktat of Versailles, and then had proceeded to

rivet the chains of poverty upon her limbs. They had made the inflation, they had contrived the

Dawes Plan, the Young Plan, the systems of interest and reparations slavery; the Jewish

bankers in alliance with the Jewish Bolsheviks! They had seduced all German culture—theater,

literature, music, journalism. They had sneaked into the professions, the sciences, the schools, and

universities—and, as always, they had defiled and degraded whatever they touched. Die Juden sind

unser Ungluck!

This went on for at least half an hour; and never once did anybody else get in a word. The

man's tirade poured out so fast that his sentences stumbled over one another; he forgot to

finish them, he forgot his grammar, he forgot common decency and used the words of the

gutters of Vienna, where he had picked up his ideas. The perspiration stood out on his

forehead and his clean white collar began to wilt. In short, he gave the same performance

which Lanny had witnessed in the Bürgerbraukeller of Munich more than a decade ago. But

that had been a huge beerhall with two or three thousand people, while here it was like being

shut up in a small chamber with a hundred-piece orchestra including eight trombones and four

bass tubas playing the overture to The Flying Dutchman.

Suddenly the orator stopped. He didn't say: "Have I convinced you?" That would have been

expressing a doubt, which no heaven-sent evangelist ever admits. He said: "Now, Herr Budd,

go and do your duty. Make one simple rule that I have maintained ever since I founded this

movement—never to speak to a Jew, even over the telephone." Then, abruptly: "I have other

engagements and have to be excused."

The three quickly said their adieus; and when they were outside, Lanny, in his role of secret

agent, remarked: "No one can wonder that he stirs his audiences."

When he was back in the hotel with his wife and mother, he exclaimed: "Well, I know now

why Göring is keeping Freddi."

"Why?" they asked, with much excitement.

Lanny answered, in a cold fury: "He is going to breed him with a female ape!"

IX

Lanny had to play out the game according to the rules. He must not let either of these friends

discover that he had brought them here solely in the hope of persuading Hitler to release a

Jewish prisoner. It was for friendship, for sociability, for music and art. Lanny and Kurt must

play piano duets as in the old days. Zoltan must take them through the two Pinakotheks and

give them the benefit of his art knowledge. Beauty and Irma must put on their best togs and

accompany them to the Hof-und-National Theater for Die Meistersinger, and to the Prinz-

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