CHAPTER IX.
RESULTS.
On alighting next morning at the station in Hamburg, Wilhelm found himself clasped in a pair of strong arms and pressed to a magnificent fur coat.

Inside this warm garment there beat a still warmer heart, that of Paul Haber, who had received a letter from Wilhelm the day before, telling him of his dismissal from Berlin, and that he was leaving for Hamburg by the last train before midnight, and whom neither the cold and darkness nor the extreme earliness of the hour could restrain from meeting his friend at the station.
Their greeting was short and affectionate.
"A hearty welcome to you!" cried Paul.

"We will do our best to make a new home for you here." "You see, I thought of you at once when I had to look about me for some resting-place in the wide world." "I should have expected no less of you.

Keep your ears stiff, and don't let the horrid business worry you." Wilhelm's bag was handed to an attendant servant, and the two friends walked off arm in arm toward an elegant brougham lined with light blue, with a conspicuously handsome long-limbed chestnut and a stout, bearded coachman, which stood waiting for them.
Wilhelm mentioned the name of the hotel where he intended to stay, but Paul cut him short.

"Not a bit of it! Home, Hans, and look sharp about it!" And before Wilhelm could offer any remonstrance, he found himself pushed into the carriage, Paul at his side.