piece of meat to the other's portion. Then he would quickly
polish up boots and buttons for him and hand him his cap when it was
time for the after-noon drill to commence.

"Come, Heinrich, I have made you smart," he would say with an attempt
to joke. "Now we shall be all right."

And Klitzing would go down the steps with aching limbs and fall into
line.

Vogt's care for him only ceased at night and began anew every morning.
It was the source both of joy and shame to the clerk; he deprecated it
to his comrade, but Vogt shut him up with good-natured roughness. So
Klitzing let the matter be, and thought that a mother's care for her
child must be something like this. For he had never known his parents,
but after their early death had grown up as the adopted child of some
distant relations.

Vogt himself had also the feeling that instead of a comrade Klitzing
was more like a child, or, rather, a younger brother to care for; but
that suited his strength of character, and anyhow Klitzing was a very
different fellow from the gay, clever, Weise, and a far better one.

Weise tried to make himself a favourite with all, but the others
noticed that he kept a check upon himself and never showed himself as
he really was. Moreover, even when he was alone with them, he evidently
felt a certain constraint.

One morning while washing there was almost a quarrel, when Vogt caught
him by the arm and tried to examine the tattoo marks on his skin. Weise
angrily shook himself free; but Vogt had seen that on the right forearm
the words "Liberty, Equality, Fraternity" were inscribed, surrounded by
a broken chain and a wreath of flame, and above them something that
looked like a nightcap.

His father had never discussed politics with him, but Vogt had learnt
enough by himself to recognise the significance of the tattooing; Weise
was a social-democrat! Well, that was nothing so very bad. At home in
the village there were numbers of social-democrats, chiefly workers in
the large fire-clay factory by the river, and they were all very good
sort of people. Certainly, such tendencies were strictly forbidden in
the army, so Weise must take care of himself.

On the whole this meant nothing to Vogt. He had almost forgotten about
the tattooed arm, and the recollection of it was only once forced upon
his memory when taking the oath. Then Weise had sworn fealty to the
king, raising the arm on which was inscribed the motto of revolution.
His sleeve