most of the occupants were titled people. No. 3, I was interested to
see, was still noted as the Berlin office of _The Times_.

The last phrase in the message decidedly gave the number. _Two_ must
refer to the number of the house: _third_ to the number of the floor,
since practically all dwelling-houses in Berlin are divided off into
flats.

As for the "Achiles," I gave it up.

I looked at my watch. It was twenty past eleven: too late to begin my
search that night. Then I suddenly realized how utterly exhausted I was.
I had been two nights out of bed without sleep, for I had sat up on deck
crossing over to Holland, and the succession of adventures that had
befallen me since I left London had driven all thought of weariness from
my mind. But now came the reaction and I felt myself yearning for a hot
bath and for a nice comfortable bed. To go to an hotel at that hour of
night, without luggage and with an American passport not in order, would
be to court disaster. It looked as though I should have to hang about
the cafés and night restaurants until morning, investigate the clue of
the street called In den Zelten, and then get away from Berlin as fast
as ever I could.

But my head was nodding with drowsiness. I must pull myself together. I
decided I would have some black coffee, and I raised my eyes to find the
waiter. They fell upon the pale face and elegant figure of the one-armed
officer I had met at the Casino at Goch ... the young lieutenant they
had called Schmalz.

He had just entered the café and was standing at the door, looking about