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Hitler Terror was now in press and shortly to be published. It gave the details of two or three

hundred murders of prominent intellectuals and political opponents of the Nazi Regierung.

Lanny said: "There'll be other things worth reporting. If I go back to Germany on account of

Freddi, I'll get what facts I can and it'll be up to you to figure out what use to make of them."

IX

Lanny didn't mention the name of his German agent, Hugo Behr, but he was free to tell about

the left-wing movement developing in side the Nazi party. He thought it was of great

importance. It was the class struggle in a new and strange form; the war between the haves

and the have-nots, which apparently couldn't be kept out of any part of modern society. A leader

might sell out a popular movement, but could he carry his followers along? Many people in

Germany thought that Hitler could take his party wherever he chose, but Lanny saw it

differently—he said that Hitler was extraordinarily sensitive to the pressure of his followers, and

agile in keeping the lead wherever they were determined to go. "He got money from the biggest

industrialists, and Johannes insists that he's their man; but I believe he may fool them and jump

some way they have no idea of."

"Isn't there a third power," ventured Rick—"the army? Can anybody in Germany do anything

without the consent of the Reichswehr?"

Lanny told of his talk with Emil and with Stubendorf, both of whom had agreed that they

would obey the government loyally. Rick said: "Emil, yes; he's a subordinate. But would

Stubendorf tell you his real thoughts? My guess is that he and his Junker crowd will serve Hitler

so long as Hitler serves them; that is, to bring about rearmament, and get the Corridor and the

lost provinces back into the Fatherland."

"Naturally," admitted Lanny, "Stubendorf thinks first about his own property. What he'd do

after that I don't know."

"All Germans put their army first," insisted Rick. "The Social-Democrats brought about the

revolution with the help of the common soldiers, but right away they became prisoners of the

officer caste and never made any real change in the army's control. The Finance Minister of

the Republic always had to be a man satisfactory to the Reichswehr, and no matter how much

the politicians talked about social reforms they never made any cuts in the military budget."

Rick listened to all that his friend had to tell, and asked many questions, but refused to

believe that Hitler could be pushed or dragged to the left. "No revolutionist who has become

conservative ever goes back," he said, and added with a wry smile: "He learns to know the left

too well, and has made too many enemies among them."

Lanny asked: "Won't he go if he sees another wave of revolt on the way?"

"He won't see it, because it won't be coming. One wave is enough for one generation. Strasser

and Rohm and your friend Hugo may shout their heads off, but when Adolf tells them to shut

up they will shut. And it's my belief that whatever 'socializing' Adolf does in Germany will be to

make the Nazi party stronger, and enable him to smash Versailles more quickly and more

surely."

X

The Conference on Limitation of Armaments was practically dead, after more than a year of

futile efforts. But the nations couldn't give up trying to stop the general breakdown, and now

sixty-six of them were assembled in a World Economic Conference. It was meeting in South

Kensington with the usual fanfare about solving all problems. Rick, ever suspicious of what he

called capitalist statesmanship, said that it was an effort of the Bank of England to get back on

the gold standard, with the support of the United States, and of France, Switzerland, Holland,

and the few nations still ruled by their creditor classes. While Lanny was watching this show and

renewing old acquaintances among the journalists, President Roosevelt issued a manifesto

refusing to be tied to this gold program. His action was called "torpedoing" the Conference,

which at once proceeded to follow all the others into the graveyard of history.

Lord Wickthorpe was back at home, and desirous of repaying the hospitality which he had

enjoyed in Paris; the more so when he learned that his American friends had just returned

from Germany and had been meeting some of the Nazi head men. The young couple were invited

to spend several days at Wickthorpe Castle, one of the landmarks of England. It was of brown

sandstone, and the central structure with two great crenelated towers dated from Tudor days;

two wings and a rear extension had been added in the time of Queen Anne, but the unity of

style had been preserved. The ancient oaks were monuments of English permanence and solidity;

the lawns were kept green by rains and fogs from several seas, and kept smooth by flocks of

rolypoly sheep. Irma was fascinated by the place, and pleased her host by the naivete of her

commendations. When she heard that the estate had had to be broken up and tracts sold off to

pay taxes, she counted it among the major calamities of the late war.

The Dowager Lady Wickthorpe kept house for her bachelor son. There was a younger brother

whom Lanny had met at Rick's, and he had married an American girl whom Irma had known

in cafe society; so it was like a family party, easy and informal, yet dignified and impressive. It

was much easier to run an estate and a household in England, where everything was like a

grandfather's clock which you wound up and it ran, not for eight days but for eight years or

eight decades. There was no such thing as a servant problem, for your attendants were born, not

made; the oldest son of your shepherd learned to tend your sheep and the oldest son of your

butler learned to buttle. All masters were kind and all servants devoted and respectful; at least,

that was how it was supposed to be, and if anything was short of perfection it was carefully

hidden. Irma thought it was marvelous—until she discovered that she was expected to bathe

her priceless self in a painted tin tub which was brought in by one maid, followed by two others

bearing large pitchers of hot and cold water.

After the completion of this ceremony, she inquired: "Lanny, what do you suppose it would

cost to put modern plumbing into a place like this?"

He answered with a grin: "In the style of Shore Acres?"— referring to his own bathroom

with solid silver fixtures, and to Irma's of solid gold.

"I mean just ordinary Park Avenue."

"Are you thinking of buying this castle?"

Irma countered with another question. "Do you suppose you would be happy in England?"

"I am afraid you couldn’t get it, darling," he evaded in turn. "It’s bound to be entailed." He

assured her with a grave face that everything had to be handed down intact—not merely

towers and oaks and lawns, but servants and sheep and bathing facilities.

XI

Neighbors dropped in from time to time, and Lanny listened to upper-class Englishmen

discussing the problems of their world and his. They were not to be persuaded to take Adolf

Hitler and his party too seriously; in spite of his triumph he was still the clown, the pasty-

faced, hysterical tub-thumper, such as you could hear in Hyde Park any Sunday afternoon; "a

jumped-up house-painter," one of the country squires called him. They were not sorry to

have some effective opposition to France on the continent, for it irked them greatly to see that

rather shoddy republic of politicians riding on the gold standard while Britain had been

ignominiously thrown off. They were interested in Lanny's account of Adolf, but even more

interested in Göring, who was a kind of man they could understand. In his capacity as

Reichsminister, he had come to Geneva and laid down the law as to Germany's claim to arms

equality. Wickthorpe had been impressed by his forceful personality, and now was amused to

hear about the lion cub from the Berlin zoo and the new gold velvet curtains in the reception

room of the Minister-Präsident's official residence.

Lanny said: "The important thing for you gentlemen to remember is that Göring is an air

commander, and that rearmament for him is going to mean fleets of planes. They will all be new

and of perfected models."

Eric Vivian Pomeroy-Nielson, ex-aviator, had laid great stress upon this, but Lanny found it

impossible to interest a representative of the British Foreign Office. To him airplanes were like

Adolf Hitler; that is to say, something "jumped-up," something cheap, presumptuous, and

altogether bad form. Britannia ruled the waves, and did it with dignified and solid "ships of the

line," weighing thirty-five thousand tons each and costing ten or twenty million pounds. An

American admiral had written about the influence of sea power upon history, and the

British Admiralty had read it, one of the few compliments they had ever paid to their

jumped-up cousins across the seas. Now their world strategy was based upon it, and when

anyone tried to argue with them it was as if they all burst into song: "Britannia needs no

bulwarks, no towers along the steep!"

Irma listened to the discussions, and afterward, as they drove back to London, they talked

about it, and Lanny discovered that she agreed with her host rather than with her husband.

She was irresistibly impressed by the dignity, stability, and self-confidence of this island

nation; also by Lord Wickthorpe as the perfect type of English gentleman and statesman.

Lanny didn't mind, for he was used to having people disagree with him, especially his own

family. But when he happened to mention the matter to his mother, she minded it gravely, and

said: "Doesn't it ever occur to you that you're taking an awful lot for granted?"

"How do you mean, old darling?"

"Take my advice and think seriously about Irma. You're making her a lot unhappier than

you've any idea."

"You mean, by the company I keep?"

"By that, and by the ideas you express to your company, and to your wife's."

"Well, dear, she surely can't expect me to give up my political convictions as the price of her

happiness."

"I don't know why she shouldn't—considering how we're all more or less dependent upon her

bounty."

"Bless your heart!" said Lanny. "I can always go back to selling pictures again."

"Oh, Lanny, you say horrid things!"

He thought that she had started the horridness, but it would do no good to say so. "Cheer up,

old dear—I'm taking my wife off to New York right away."

"Don't count on that too much. Don't ever forget that you've got a treasure, and it calls for

a lot of attention and some guarding."

BOOK FIVE

This Is the Way the World Ends

21

In Friendship's Name

I

IRMA and Lanny guessed that the feelings of Fanny Barnes were going to be hurt because

they weren't bringing her namesake to see her; to make up for it they had cabled that they

would come first to Shore Acres. The Queen Mother was at the steamer to meet them with a

big car. She wanted the news about her darling grandchild, and then, what on earth had they

been doing all that time in Germany? Everybody was full of questions about Hitlerland, they

discovered; at a distance of three thousand miles it sounded like Hollywood, and few could