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Indeed, it was hardly more than that time before both Carl Olsen, who worked in the same furniture factory as Kurt Lieders, and was a comely and after-witted giant, appeared with Mrs. Olsen ready for the street. He nodded at Mrs. Lieders and made a gurgling noise in his throat, expected to convey sympathy. Then, he coughed and said that he was ready, and they started.
He openly defied expense, and he would have no trifling with the laws of art. To make after orders was an insult to Kurt. He made what was best for the customer; if the latter had not the sense to see it he was a fool and a pig, and some one else should work for him, not Kurt Lieders, BEGEHR! Young Lossing had learned the business practically.
He was amazed to see that three hours had passed since he had given orders to the men. He hurried back to the house. No one was there except the old servant, who was wringing her hands and crying that the house would burn. Throwing the cakes of phosphorus into a watering-trough, Kurt ran into the kitchen, snatched a few biscuits, and then made for the fields, eating as he went.
Again Jerry plucked at Kurt's sleeve. "I was with him," said Jerry. "I heard him fall an' groan.... I had the light. I bent over, lifted his head.... An' he said, speaking English, 'Tell my son I was wrong!... Then he died. An' thet was all." Kurt staggered away from the whispering, sympathetic foreman, out into the darkness, where he lifted his face in the thankfulness of a breaking heart.
The messengers found old Kurt still holding his vigil beside the Emperors body, and in recognition of his faithfulness he was permitted to follow the funeral cortege to Speyer. There were in the town certain good and pious folk who were touched by the servants devotion, and by these he was kindly treated.
Kurt expected that confession would bring on his father's terrible fury, a mood to dread. But old Dorn showed immense relief. He sat down in his relaxation from what must have been intense strain. Kurt saw a weariness, a shade, in the gray lined face that had never been there before. "What did you do with the money?" asked the old man. "I banked it in Kilo," replied Kurt.
So Bert, armed with a sharp cutlass, found himself clambering about upon netting four thousand feet up in the air, trying to understand Kurt when he spoke in English and to divine him when he used German. It was giddy work, but not nearly so giddy as a rather overnourished reader sitting in a warm room might imagine.
He had never realised before that an airship was not one simple continuous gas-bag containing nothing but gas. Now he saw far above him the backbone of the apparatus and its big ribs, "like the neural and haemal canals," said Kurt, who had dabbled in biology. "Rather!" said Bert appreciatively, though he had not the ghost of an idea what these phrases meant.
With these words his penetrating eyes glanced from Karl to Kurt; the girls caught hold of one another's hands and one could plainly read in their expressions that they considered it rash to be in such close proximity to a person who had erstwhile been dead.
"That is true, but I shall help you to-day," said the mother, and with her assistance everything was soon put in order. "Oh, here comes the slow-poke at last," Kurt cried out. "No, you must not scold him, for Lippo did right in putting his things in order before taking a walk," said his mother, who had herself given him that injunction. "Bravo, my god-son!
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