Some stewards came oscillating across the deck to serve the chilly
passengers with bowls of hot bouillon. After Füllenberg had seen to it
that his lady was duly served, he deserted her and went with Frederick to
the smoking-room. Here, of course, loud talking and tobacco smoke
prevailed. The two gentlemen lit their cigars. In one corner of the small
room, some men were playing skat, and at several tables, German and
English politics were being thrashed out. The main theme of discussion
was the rivalry between America and Europe. Wilhelm, the ship's doctor,
with whom Frederick had become acquainted at breakfast, came in from his
morning inspection of the steerage, and seated himself beside Frederick.

"There are two hundred Russian Jews emigrating to the United States or
Canada," he told him, "thirty Polish families, and about the same number
of German families from the south, north, and east of Germany. Altogether
there are nearly four hundred steerage passengers, among them five babies
at the breast and fifty children between the ages of one and fifteen."

Doctor Wilhelm invited Frederick to accompany him the next day on his
tour of inspection. He was a man of not more than twenty-six. He had a
fair complexion and wore glasses. His manner was somewhat stiff. Ever
since he had passed his examinations, two years before, he had been a
physician on a vessel. Once he had taken the trip to Japan, once to South
America, and several times to the United States. Frederick, of course,
immediately thought of his dying friend, George Rasmussen, put his hand
in his pocket, and presented his new colleague with Simon Arzt
cigarettes.

The cigarettes furnished a starting-point to tell all about George
Rasmussen; and when Doctor Wilhelm had learned everything about him,
except his name, and then learned his name, too, the world again turned