He Walked Around the Horses | Page 6

et cetera.
Ernst Hartenstein Staatspolizeikapitan

(From Oberleutnant Rudolf von Tarlburg, to Baron Eugen von Krutz.)
26 November, 1809
Dear Uncle Eugen;
This is in no sense a formal report; I made that at the Ministry, when I turned the
Englishman and his papers over to one of your officers--a fellow with red hair and a face
like a bulldog. But there are a few things which you should be told, which wouldn't look
well in an official report, to let you know just what sort of a rare fish has got into your

net.
I had just come in from drilling my platoon, yesterday, when Colonel Keitel's orderly told
me that the colonel wanted to see me in his quarters. I found the old fellow in undress in
his sitting room, smoking his big pipe.
"Come in, lieutenant; come in and sit down, my boy!" he greeted me, in that bluff, hearty
manner which he always adopts with his junior officers when he has some particularly
nasty job to be done. "How would you like to take a little trip in to Berlin? I have an
errand, which won't take half an hour, and you can stay as long as you like, just so you're
back by Thursday, when your turn comes up for road patrol."
Well, I thought, this is the bait. I waited to see what the hook would look like, saying that
it was entirely agreeable with me, and asking what his errand was.
"Well, it isn't for myself, Tarlburg," he said. "It's for this fellow Hartenstein, the
Staatspolizeikapitan here. He has something he wants done at the Ministry of Police, and
I thought of you because I've heard you're related to the Baron von Krutz. You are, aren't
you?" he asked, just as though he didn't know all about who all his officers are related to.
"That's right, colonel; the baron is my uncle," I said. "What does Hartenstein want done?"
"Why, he has a prisoner whom he wants taken to Berlin and turned over at the Ministry.
All you have to do is to take him in, in a coach, and see he doesn't escape on the way, and
get a receipt for him, and for some papers. This is a very important prisoner; I don't think
Hartenstein has anybody he can trust to handle him. The prisoner claims to be some sort
of a British diplomat, and for all Hartenstein knows, maybe he is. Also, he is a madman."
"A madman?" I echoed.
"Yes, just so. At least, that's what Hartenstein told me. I wanted to know what sort of a
madman--there are various kinds of madmen, all of whom must be handled
differently--but all Hartenstein would tell me was that he had unrealistic beliefs about the
state of affairs in Europe."
"Ha! What diplomat hasn't?" I asked.
Old Keitel gave a laugh, somewhere between the bark of a dog and the croaking of a
raven.
"Yes, exactly! The unrealistic beliefs of diplomats are what soldiers die of," he said. "I
said as much to Hartenstein, but he wouldn't tell me anything more. He seemed to regret
having said even that much. He looked like a man who's seen a particularly terrifying
ghost." The old man puffed hard at his famous pipe for a while, blowing smoke through
his mustache. "Rudi, Hartenstein has pulled a hot potato out of the ashes, this time, and
he wants to toss it to your uncle, before he burns his fingers. I think that's one reason why
he got me to furnish an escort for his Englishman. Now, look; you must take this
unrealistic diplomat, or this undiplomatic madman, or whatever in blazes he is, in to

Berlin. And understand this." He pointed his pipe at me as though it were a pistol. "Your
orders are to take him there and turn him over at the Ministry of Police. Nothing has been
said about whether you turn him over alive, or dead, or half one and half the other. I
know nothing about this business, and want to know nothing; if Hartenstein wants us to
play goal warders for him, then he must be satisfied with our way of doing it!"
Well, to cut short the story, I looked at the coach Hartenstein had placed at my disposal,
and I decided to chain the left door shut on the outside, so that it couldn't be opened from
within. Then, I would put my prisoner on my left, so that the only way out would be past
me. I decided not to carry any weapons which he might be able to snatch from me, so I
took off my saber and locked it in the seat box, along with the dispatch case containing
the Englishman's papers. It was cold enough