At the entrance to the club they found themselves in the
midst of a crowd, and could only advance very slowly unless, like
the others, they pushed and elbowed their way. Mounting a few steps
they reached an enormous garden, lighted by the fitful beams of the
moon as she emerged from the clouds, and a few gaslamps. On the
right was a Gothic building, which would have been sufficiently
handsome if built in stone, but with barbarous taste had been
executed in wood. At the end of the garden some more steps led to a
broad, four-cornered courtyard, on the right of which the iron spire
of the National Memorial was dimly visible, while to the left was a
large building of red and yellow brick with a four-square tower at
either end, a pavilion projecting from the center, and a number of
large windows. Over the entrance in the center of the building was
the inscription in gold letters on a blue ground:
"Gemesst im edeln Geistensaft
Des Wemes Geist, des Brodes Kraft"
In the little anteroom a few sharp-looking, rather conceited young
men were standing, either the instigators or organizers of the
meeting. They eyed the people who came in with a quick look of
assurance, offering a pamphlet, which nearly every one bought.
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