Chapter II

When Paul moved off from the prosecutor's house, walking about the silent streets, the night was cold and clear. Coming up to the river he took the pistol from his pocket and threw it into the dirty water. At that moment the town clock struck eleven. The sound brought Paul back to himself and suddenly he understood that he did not have a penny in his pocket. Where could he spend the night? Soon it became clear to him that the only thing he could do was sleep out. There was a place known as the Arches. This was the only corner of the city where the homeless usually spent their night. The Arches were a place under the Railway Bridge. When Paul arrived there other men had already settled themselves for the night. Pulling up his coat collar he sat down on the ground with his hands in his pockets and his back against the wall. It was very cold. Paul could not sleep for a long time. Then he fell asleep at last but woke up time and again during the night. The grey morning came at last. Paul got to his feet and walked off. He was weak from hunger. He moved off towards Dukes Row but found the gates closed. Then he went to the Railway Station. During the day he could earn only a ninepence. It was not enough for both supper and a bed. So he ate at the nearest café and dragged back to the Arches.

Next morning it was raining hard. Again he earned a few coins and again he had to go back to the Arches. A period of great suffering began for Paul. There were days when he went without food. His clothes were dirty, there were large holes in his shoes, he had not shaved for days. His long hair fell across his collar. He had grown so weak that he could hardly move. Now he understood that it was possible to die of hunger in this great and rich city.

Of course there was charity. One evening he dragged himself to the corner of the Corn Market. Here a kitchen wagon stood, already surrounded by a waiting crowd. At five o'clock the kitchen was opened. Each man in the crowd received a plate of soup and a piece оf bread. Paul was also given his portion. He ate the soup and bread then walked silently away. Every night now he joined the crowd. The men never talked, they simply waited. After eating they disappeared, also in silence.

One night the man in the kitchen wagon was joined by a tall man of about fifty, dressed in black, with dark eyes and a kind smile. He was Enoch Oswald. Paul understood that he had received his food from the Silver King Canteen. When Mr. Oswald took off his hat his hair under the lights shone silver white. That had earned him the name of the Silver King.

With his usual smile, Oswald came slowly down the line, stopping а moment at each man, not looking at him, never speaking, but giving him a shilling. As Oswald stood beside him, Paul thought that he might ask this truly good man to help him. Here, at his side was the only man who could make Burt speak. The thought as so sudden that Paul's head swam. When he came to himself the old man was gone.

Paul dared not go openly to the Oswalds’ home. But from the kitchen man he learned that Oswald visited the canteen every Wednesday night. So the following week Paul's chance would come again.

Now Paul's thoughts were only about his future talk with Enoch Oswald. He was waiting for Wednesday. Towards the end of that week the weather turned cold. Paul began to cough. He understood that he could not go on like that for a long time.

Wednesday came at last, Paul went early to the Corn Market and took his place in the line at the canteen. Soon the kitchen was open. Suddenly he felt that somebody stopped beside him. And it was not the Silver King. Paul raised his head and saw Lena Andersen.