In his excitement he had risen, and was pacing the room like an angry lion in a cage.  Wilhelm did not like to interrupt the stream of words, which seemed to be forced from him by some powerful inward pressure.  Now he said: 

“I can well understand your point of view.  You emigrated in ’48, and kept your democratic ideas fresh in your heart.  Twenty years of absence, and an intense longing for your home, glorified the Fatherland in your eyes.  You come back and find a country whose historical development has taken a totally different turn in the meantime, and the plain reality in nowise corresponds to the poetical picture you had painted for yourself.  Naturally you are painfully disappointed.  I know that of old from my own father.  But may I venture to remark that your criticism is hard, and perhaps not altogether well founded?  A system of government passes—­the people remain.  In its inner depths it is untouched by official corruption, and you yourself acknowledge that the aggressive boasters only formed a small part of our youth.  I am not uneasy for the future of my country.”

“You may be right,” returned Schrotter, grown calmer meanwhile, and standing still in front of Wilhelm.  “But the present is gloomy, that is very certain.  But enough of this.  I came to cheer you, and have instead lightened my own heart.  It was overflowing, and I have no one in Berlin to whom I can unburden myself.  You see, I must have you near me.  So write your petition, and if it is not accepted, why then—­then we will go together to Switzerland or America, and love our country from afar, and without any admixture of bitterness, just as I did in India.”

In face of this deep and unselfish concern over the condition of the commonalty which trembled in Schrotter’s voice and spoke from his gloomy blue eyes, Wilhelm felt half ashamed of having made so much of his own small troubles.  He declared himself willing to send in the petition, and for the first time for weeks he was able to think of something else than Pilar and his dealings with regard to her.

Schrotter stayed for a few days, which he passed almost exclusively with Wilhelm and Paul.  All three felt themselves younger by ten years in this renewal of their intimacy, and Paul said more than once, “Would it not be splendid, Herr Doctor, if you two would buy some property near me?  Then, in the summer months at any rate, we could all live together, so to speak.  I am quite convinced that that would be a sure way of keeping ourselves young forever.”  Schrotter smiled at this proposal.  All he wanted was to have Wilhelm near him once more.  In the meantime, Bhani, his patients, his poor, recalled him to Berlin, and he left in hope that Wilhelm might be able to follow him ere long.

Schrotter lost no time.  He did his utmost to persuade influential people to exert themselves on Wilhelm’s behalf, but the difficulties were greater than he had imagined.  Wilhelm was in very bad odor with the police authorities, who would not believe that he was not a Socialist, and that he did not afford that party valuable support in the shape of money.