something for me?"

"Go to that door there and open it," said Javert.

I did so and there stood four soldiers of the Kaiser, who ranged
themselves two in front and two behind, and marched me away.
Javert had a well-developed sense of the dramatic.

While I am excoriating Javert as representing the genius of
German officialdom, it is only fair that I should present his
antithesis. By continually referring to the German army as a
machine one gets the idea that it is an impersonal collection of
inhuman beings remorselessly and mechanically devoted to duty.
For a broad general impression that is perhaps a fair enough
statement to start with; but when I am tempted to let it go at that,
there is one striking exception that always rises up to point the
finger of denial at this easy and common generalization. It is that of
a young German officer, a mere stripling of twenty or thereabouts,
with the most frank, open, ingenuous expression. One would
expect to find him presiding at a Christian Endeavor social, rather
than right here at the very pivot of the most terrible military
organization of the world.

I had caught his look riveted upon me in my trial, and recognized
him when he came into the detention-room, to which the four
soldiers had led me. Hurriedly, he said to me: "Really, you know, I
ought not to come in here, but I heard your story, and it looks
rather bad; but somehow I almost believe in you. Tell me the whole
truth about your affair."