When he stood back up he saw Becker climbing into a taxi with the Sturmführers.

“Well, it’s off to Berlin,” Becker shouted out to Silbermann and waved good-bye.

“Thank God,” Silbermann sighed quietly to himself. He was moved. “Becker you good honest fellow you.” Then he was ashamed of his emotion, just as he had been ashamed of his earlier suspicion of Becker, and he decided that neither feeling had actually occurred.

He hailed a cab and went to the station, hoping to meet Becker there or later in the train. After he paid the fare he realized that he had only two twenty-mark bills left. If it weren’t for Becker, he consoled himself as he climbed up the stairs inside the station, I can only imagine how worried and scared I’d be.

Silbermann took care not to let Becker see him, and ultimately boarded a third-class car, even though he’d purchased a second-class ticket.

I don’t want him to feel I’m watching his every move, he thought tactfully, but he had to admit that he was also acting out of caution, since he wanted to avoid attracting the attention of his friend’s companions.

There was only one open seat in his compartment. Indifferently he surveyed the faces of his fellow passengers. Directly across from him was a man who was puffing away on a cigar of inferior quality. Silbermann guessed he was traveling on business. As the train left the station, the man stood up and made his way to the window, though not to say good-bye to someone, as Silbermann had thought, but to close it.

After half an hour the air in the compartment was full of caustic fumes that badly irritated Silbermann’s sinuses. When he could no longer stand it, he got up and took refuge in the dining car. He was also very hungry, as he’d left most of his steak on the plate in the restaurant, and so he treated himself to a large meal, since he was feeling encouraged that Becker was nearby and that he must have the money. After finishing his meal, Silbermann stayed in the dining car, but as he leafed halfheartedly through the Mitropa magazine, the old thoughts and worries came back.

About twenty minutes before the train was due in Berlin, he decided to fetch his hat and coat from the compartment, where he became an unwilling witness to a highly political discussion. The presumed businessman, who had earlier shut the window, was in the process of explaining the ins and outs of grand politics to the other occupants of the compartment.