He felt how his legs were trembling. Was it hunger? Or was it a sudden fear?

Of what? For the moment no one was concerned about him. Yet it did seem again that the passersby and people coming out—and always mostly older men—looked at him peculiarly before walking on. He also believed he was being watched by the group of young people in the middle of the entrance. They turned toward him and laughed disdainfully before they continued talking. Were they talking about him? No, he would not have trusted himself now to go up to one of them and ask if they knew where he could find work. He would sooner ask the one standing next to him. But he looked as if he did not have work, not for a long time already.

While he was thinking this over, he suddenly heard a hissing, angry voice close to his ear. It was this other boy.

“Stupid lout! Ain’t ya got eyes in ya head? Can’t ya see that the john there is keen on ya? What ya standing here for, messing up my chance?”

And then, still more furiously, almost threateningly: “Just go after him!”

He became terribly frightened. What had the boy said? Whom was he talking about? What did he want from him?

He could not stay here any longer, however.

He walked as fast as his feet could carry him away from the entrance and down Unter den Linden. Laughter echoed after him. Were they laughing at him again?

He did not know. He knew nothing any more. He walked and walked, first past the buildings with their shops, then across the middle promenade, and again to another bench. He could go no farther.

Why had the strange boy been so angry? What had he wanted from him? Whom was he to follow? And why? His head was spinning. He understood not a word of it all.

*

Then, as he was just sitting there, still trembling from the scare and from hunger, it seemed to him that he was again being watched. By the gentleman on the bench next to his, who was leaning forward and looking over at him. He no longer dared to look over there. Then the seat next to him was free. The man got up and came to sit close beside him. He plainly felt his glance resting on him.

But now he too got up. It was again the sudden rage that he had felt earlier that came over him. What did all these people want from him? Would he nowhere be left in peace? Was he not allowed to sit here on a bench like anybody else! He wanted to get away—no matter where—just away.

He crossed to the other side and turned into a quiet side street. He crept along close to the buildings, tired enough to drop. I would like to just drop, he thought, drop and stay there. Then it would at least be at an end.

He did not know how long or where he had walked when he heard a voice beside him, a quite friendly and encouraging voice.

“Well, lad, also out for a walk? Don’t you want to come along a while with me?”

He looked up. Was this the gentleman on the bench or another? He could not say, but he believed he had already briefly seen him. One of those from earlier who had looked at him so?

The gentleman wore a light summer coat. He carried a briefcase under his arm and had a beardless face. He was now smiling and flushed as if from walking fast.

When the man saw the astonishment on the face of the boy, who wordlessly stood there, he changed his tone and said pleasantly, “You really don’t need to be afraid.