Javert.

I did so and there stood four soldiers of the Kaiser, who ranged
themselves two in front and two behind, and marched me away.
Javert had a well-developed sense of the dramatic.

While I am excoriating Javert as representing the genius of
German officialdom, it is only fair that I should present his
antithesis. By continually referring to the German army as a
machine one gets the idea that it is an impersonal collection of
inhuman beings remorselessly and mechanically devoted to duty.
For a broad general impression that is perhaps a fair enough
statement to start with; but when I am tempted to let it go at that,
there is one striking exception that always rises up to point the
finger of denial at this easy and common generalization. It is that of
a young German officer, a mere stripling of twenty or thereabouts,
with the most frank, open, ingenuous expression. One would
expect to find him presiding at a Christian Endeavor social, rather
than right here at the very pivot of the most terrible military
organization of the world.

I had caught his look riveted upon me in my trial, and recognized
him when he came into the detention-room, to which the four
soldiers had led me. Hurriedly, he said to me: "Really, you know, I
ought not to come in here, but I heard your story, and it looks
rather bad; but somehow I almost believe in you. Tell me the whole
truth about your affair."

I proceeded vehemently to point out my innocence, when he
interrupted my story by asking, "But why did you make that
Schreibfehler on your paper?" He followed my recital anxiously
and sympathetically, and, looking me full in the face, asked, "Can
you tell me on your Ehrenwort (word of honor) that you are not a
spy? Remember," he added, solemnly, "on your Ehrenwort."

Grasping both of his hands and looking him in the eye, I said, most
fervently, "On my Ehrenwort, I am not a spy."

There was an earnestness in my heart that must have
communicated itself to my hands, because he winced as he drew
his hands away; but he said, "I shall try to put in a word for you; I
can't do much, but I shall do what I can. I must go now. Good-by."

Chapter III

A Night On A Prison Floor

"Prisoners are to be taken over into the left wing for the night," said
an orderly to the guards.

We had scarcely turned the corner, when an officer cried: "Not that
way, Dummkopf!"

"Our orders are for the left wing, sir," said the orderly.

"Never saw