“You have to go back. There’s no point in talking. You have to go back!”

“Écoutez,” Silbermann began again, turning to the first guard. “I’ll give you five thousand marks! That’s a fortune…”

“You must be crazy. Allez.” the man answered calmly.

“Listen, it’s a good opportunity for you, and for me it would mean my life. I’ll give you ten thousand—five for each!”

His shoulder felt a shove.

“Shut your mouth,” said a rough voice, though Silbermann thought he detected a slight hesitation.

“Fifteen thousand,” he raised his offer. “And I assure you I’ll never say a word about it—that’s in my own interest. Be reasonable, and be human! There are two of you, I’ll give each of you the money right away. Think about it, seven thousand five hundred marks…”

“We’re in Belgium here,” the guard said, and Silbermann wasn’t sure whether he was referring to a higher value placed on morals or a lower value of Germany currency.

“Ten thousand apiece…” Silbermann raised the offer. “That’s enough to retire on and buy a house if you want.” Since he was now discussing the business aspect of the negotiation, his voice was noticeably calmer and more self-assured.

The guards said nothing. If only they don’t distrust each other … Silbermann was afraid. They can’t see each other’s face, and therein lies the danger.

“We can arrange it very quickly,” he said. “I leave Belgium, and you can look out for each other, because you’re both…”

“Be quiet,” said the second guard curtly. Perhaps he wanted to make clear to his colleague that he was no less principled than the one who had first refused.

A misunderstanding between these two is going to be the end of me, thought Silbermann, despairing. He tried again: “Gentlemen, you are…”

But now the guard on his right shook his arm. “Will you finally shut up!” he snarled.

“If you keep on like that we’ll hand you over to the German guards,” added the one to his left.

“But we have to trust each other!” Silbermann implored, thinking that he understood things very clearly. “Ten thousand for each, right away. I’m guessing that’s about fifty thousand francs…”

If they could only see each other’s face, he thought. Then they would surely come to an agreement.

“That’s enough,” said the guard on his right. “One more word and we’re taking you to Herbesthal.”

Silbermann was silent. They had reached the forest path and stopped.

“Eh bien, Monsieur,” the guard with the suitcase said very crossly as he put it down. “You’re back in your fatherland. Don’t come back under any circumstances! That would be very dangerous for you!”

“Gentlemen,” Silbermann begged them once more. “I didn’t mean to offend you. I assure you. But think about it…”

“If you show up here again…” the guard growled.

Silbermann turned around, cut through the forest, and tripped over a root as he stumbled back into the German Reich.