busied with other things. He even forgot to eat and stared into space. First Lieutenant Karnauke alone had the faculty of arousing his attention. The lieutenant admittedly did his best. No sooner had the soup been removed than he proposed a toast to the bride, making allusions which were excessive in proportion to the amount of wine the rest of the company had drunk. Diederich was more disturbed by certain references of Karnauke's, which were accompanied by winks in his direction and which unfortunately sounded suspicious to Kienast. The moment arrived which Diederich had foreseen with beat ing heart. Kienast stood up and asked him for a word in private. … Just then the first lieutenant tapped energetically on his glass, and jumped up stiffly from his seat. The considerable noise of the party was hushed. A blue ribbon could be seen hanging from Karnauke's pointed fingers, and beneath it a cross, whose gold rim sparkled. … Ah, what an uproar and congratulations! Diederich stretched out his two hands, an ineffable joy flowed from his heart to his throat, and he began to speak involuntarily, before he knew what he was say ing: "His Majesty … unprecedented graciousness … modest services … unshakable loyalty." He bowed and scraped, and as Karnauke handed him the cross, he laid his hands on his heart, closed his eyes and sank back, as if another stood before him, the Donor himself. Basking in the royal approval Diederich felt that salvation and victory were his. Wulckow had kept his pact. Authority kept its pact with Diederich! The Order of the Crown, fourth class, glittered. It was an event, foreshadowing the William the Great monument and Gausenfeld, business and glory!
It was time to break up. Kienast, though moved and impressed, succeeded in getting a few words from Diederich of general significance, about the glorious days which he would enjoy, and the great things which were in store for him and the whole family—and then Diederich was off with Guste.
They got into a first-class carriage. He gave the porter
