I remember a little commonplace incident in Hyde Park one bank holiday which made me smile at the time. Three children were scuffling and squabbling over the division of some sweets when the mother, a kindly-looking soul, came promptly and settled the matter in a somewhat Spartan fashion. She scolded the kids, smacked them impartially, and then snatched the sweets and shied them away. Loud yells followed, of course, and repenting her haste, she kissed and hugged her little brood, immediately produced a bigger bag of sweets and in this way pacified them all.
This has nothing to do with my experience in Berlin, except to serve as a crude illustration of how the fates dealt with me. Just when Hoffnung's story had thoroughly shaken me up and prepared me to face the worst possible, the pendulum swung right over to my side and the fates handed out the bigger bag of sweets.
In other words I was at once recognized as Johann Lassen by the Countess von Rebling.
There were several circumstances to account for her mistake. For one, my bride that was to be was not present: I learnt the reason afterwards; and only her son Hans was with her, a lad who had never seen me. The old lady was, of course, prepared to meet me; she saw me in Hoffnung's company; then just as I reached the barrier the big arc lamps in the station almost went out for a few seconds, leaving the place in comparative gloom; and lastly, being a tender-hearted little woman, her eyes were full of tears and no doubt blurred her sight.
"My poor dear Johann!" she cried, throwing her arms round my neck and giving way to her mingled sympathy for my sufferings and joy at seeing me safe and sound. Then she called to her son, and after I had been kissed by him, she clung to me and could not make enough of me, so that even Hoffnung had to be satisfied.
"You are quite sure that this is your nephew, Countess?" he asked.
"Sure? Of course I am. Whatever do you mean, Heinrich?" she cried in amazement.
He explained my loss of memory; but the only effect was to increase her concern on my account and to make her hug me closer to her side, with many endearing expressions of affection and compassion.
I felt an abominable hypocrite at having to allow her to mislead herself, but the thought of Nessa's plight made it impossible for me to undeceive her; and we all went to the carriage which was in waiting, the Countess clinging to my arm and pressing close to me.
Hoffnung was very decent about it. As I was stepping into the carriage, he held out his hand. "I hope you will believe that I am sincere in saying how glad I am to find I was wrong, Herr Lassen," he said with what seemed like genuine cordiality; and of course I wrung his hand and said something appropriate.
Why my arrival should have affected the dear little lady so deeply I did not know; but during the drive to her house she could do nothing but press my hand in both of hers and murmur words of delight at seeing me again, mingled with sympathy with my misfortunes. Again the very dim light in the carriage stood my friend; and by the time she reached home she was thoroughly convinced that I was her nephew.
I had still to meet the daughter; but to my relief she was not at home. A meal was in readiness for me, and as I eat it, the Countess sat and feasted her eyes on me, noting the differences which, as she thought, time had effected in my looks. But these did not shake her conviction.
"You are very much changed, Johann; but of course, you would be in all these years. It must be ten quite since you were here. But you are just what I expected you would be, although not so much like your father as I looked for," she said, and then drew attention in some detail to the points of difference. I learnt then that the upper part of my face, shape of head, forehead and eyebrows, and nose had "changed less" than the lower part.
Then the son gave me a rather nasty jar. "You're not a bit like that photograph you sent over to Rosa, cousin, is he, mother? She'll jump a bit when she sees you."
"Photograph? Did I send one?" I asked.
"Don't worry Johann, Hans," said his mother, frowning at him, and he coloured and collapsed with a muttered "I forgot."
"You did send one, dear," she said to me. "It was when you had a beard and moustache, and of course that hid the lower part of your face." I breathed a little more freely. "I think Rosa will be surprised when she sees you; you're so much better looking than you promised to be. I suppose you don't remember sending the photograph?" she asked with nervous wistfulness.
I could truthfully say I did not; and in this way the talk proceeded until I obtained a really good description of myself as well as many details about my past. Lassen's engagement to the daughter was, as Hoffnung had said, the result of a family arrangement; one of those silly wills which left a fortune to the two on condition that they married. They had not seen him since he left Göttingen ten years before; during the whole of that time he had been out of the country; and was now coming back to marry his bride-elect.
The kind-hearted old soul hadn't a word to say against him; but Hans let drop one or two remarks which led me to think I was not likely to receive a very cordial welcome from his sister. Anxious to know all I could, I pleaded great fatigue as soon as I had finished eating and asked to be allowed to go to bed. They both went up with me and I managed to keep the son while I undressed.
He was rather an awkward youth, about seventeen, totally unlike his mother who might have sat as model for a delicate Dresden china figure. On the other hand he was fleshy, dark, and rather pudgy-featured; but I praised his figure, belauded his apparent strength, and generally played on his obvious vanity and wish to be considered a grown man.
"We must be the best of friends, Hans," I declared heartily.
He blushed with pleasure. "I should like it. You look awfully strong, cousin," he replied, looking at my biceps.
"You'll make a far stronger man than I am." It was as welcome as jam on a trench crust ten days old; and I kept at it until I felt I could safely lead round to the subject of his sister and learn how the wind blew in that quarter.
"Of course Rosa's a good sort in lots of ways, but she's getting so bossy," he declared boyishly. "She's the eldest for one thing, and then, you know, she's come in for old Aunt Margarita's fortune, and—well, she likes to run things, and I don't like it."
"A man can't be expected to," I agreed with an encouraging smile.
"That's just it. She thinks a fellow's never grown up. I can stand it from mother; but Rosa won't understand that six years' difference is one thing when a fellow's a kid of ten and another when he's nearly eighteen. I shall get my commission in another month or two, you know."
I made a note of the fact that my "betrothed" was about four and twenty and inclined to be "bossy," and let him rattle on about the army, a subject of which he was very full.
"Are you going to join your regiment, cousin?" he asked presently.
I looked appropriately blank and gestured.
"Oh, I forgot," he exclaimed, blushing again. "But can't you remember anything?" he asked, gathering courage for the question.
I shook my head and looked worried and perplexed.
"You don't mind my asking that question?"
"Not a bit. Of course I want to hit on something that will wake up my memory."
"Herr Hoffnung said something about your not wanting to go to the war and that you were joining the Secret Service; and Rosa was just mad about it. She loathes the idea; but there, I don't suppose she'll care so much if——" He stopped short in some confusion.
"If what? Out with it, my dear fellow."
"I don't think I'd better tell you. For one reason because you're——" and he pulled up again.
"Because I've lost my memory, do you mean?"
"I don't know. She's awfully funny sometimes, but I did mean that. I was going to say—you won't give me away to her if I tell you?"
"Of course not. Aren't we two going to be the best of chums?"
"Well, it's a rotten arrangement to tie up two kids to marry, like you two, just because of some money."
I laughed. "I'm not exactly a kid now, Hans, at any rate."
"Rather not; and what she'll think when she sees you I don't know."
This let in a glimmer of the truth and I made a shot. "You mean she doesn't much fancy the family arrangement?" His face told me it was a bull's-eye, but he hesitated to own it. "When a man's in my state it's only decent for his real friends to tell him the hang of things, Hans," I said as a little touch of the spur.
"I daresay it's a lot of lies now that I've seen you."
I tumbled to that, of course. "You mean that your sister has heard things which have set her against me?"
He nodded. "That you have only pretended to be out of the country all the time and then had to run away—oh, I don't know exactly what it was, but it was enough for Rosa. She always takes a different view of everything from the rest of us."
Rather good hearing. It seemed to offer a way of breaking off the engagement. "She wants to end things between us, you mean?"
"I don't know for certain, but I know what I think. She wouldn't come to the station to-night for one thing, and then, well, if I was engaged to a girl I wouldn't have her so thick with a fellow as she is with Oscar Feldmann. He's always here. But don't you breathe a word that I've told you about this."
"Not I, my dear fellow; I'm only too grateful to you. Is he in the army then?"
"Not he, but he ought to be;" and as this turned him on to the army again, I listened for a minute or two and yawned, and he took the hint and went away, promising to see me the first thing in the morning.
Things were going all right so far, and as I was really very tired, I put off my thinking until the next day, and went to sleep. In the morning I turned over the whole position in my mind and came to the conclusion that, for the present at any rate, there was only one difficulty to negotiate—that the daughter might not recognize me.
Hans' description of her was anything but alluring. She was "bossy"; inclined to oppose the others and run things on her own; she was already prejudiced against me as Lassen, and was probably ready to grasp at any excuse to break off the engagement.
That suggested a very disquieting thought. If she had heard that Lassen and I were the only cabin passengers on theBurgen, that I was the only survivor, that there was some question about my identity and that I had lost my memory, it was clear that she had only to refuse to recognize me, to free herself from the matrimonial entanglement. Obviously that must be postponed if possible.
In view of what her mother had said about the upper part of my face being most like Lassen's, it seemed a good moment to invent a bad face-ache, so that I could swathe my mouth and chin at our first meeting; and the remembrance of Lassen's rather pinched shoulders and stooping figure suggested the advisability of being in bed when she had her first inspection.
Thus when Hans came to me in the morning, he found me suffering from a severe attack of toothache with a bandage wrapped round my face, and the windows carefully curtained. He was a good-natured fellow, was genuinely sorry and, after saying Rosa was really anxious to see me, although she pretended she wasn't, went off to report.
Hans' report brought up the mother, full of solicitous sympathy and inquiries about breakfast and a suggestion that I had better stop in bed. I agreed, and she said that probably Rosa would come and see me during the morning. About an hour later all three came up together, and I augured well from the fact that Rosa was carrying a cup of tea.
She was more like Hans than her mother; fleshy, dark, and round-faced, better-looking and sharper, with fine, almost black eyes, and a certain air of masterfulness, which showed in her brisk manner and carriage. She was evidently very curious to see me.
She bustled up to the bedside, her eyes fixed on me searchingly, and her dark brows, which were rather heavy, pent and drawn together.
"So you've come at last, Johann—if you are Johann, that is," she said, as she drew up a small table and put the tea on it.
I met her look with a wan smile, turned so that she should have a good view of so much of my face as was visible, and held out my hand. "Rosa," I murmured, and waited to observe the result of her scrutiny.
"Mother said you were too ill to have any breakfast, but I knew better, so I've brought you a cup of tea," she said, managing to suggest that she had brought it less because I might like it, than because the others had declared I shouldn't.
"Thank you, Rosa, I shall relish it."
"There. You see I was right, mother," she said, and I saw I had scored. "Are you really so bad, Johann? You always were a coward in bearing pain, you know."
"Rosa!" protested the mother.
"It's true, mother. If he knocked his little toe he always thought he'd have to have his whole foot cut off. And whoever heard of a man wanting to stay in bed for a toothache?"
Better and better, this. Unintentionally I had evidently forged an important link in the identification; and then came something better still, in response to another protest from the mother.
"Nonsense, mother, it's exactly what he would do," she exclaimed sharply, and then turned again to me. "Mother thinks you're awfully altered, but I don't see it. Of course I haven't seen much of your face yet; but she always does take these queer fancies. Can't you take that thing off your face?"
"I think I'll drink the cup of tea," I replied, and drew the bandage down a little and put the cup to my lips.
To my astonishment she burst out laughing and clapped her hands. "How silly you are, mother. Why the thing's as plain as plain. He's had his teeth taken out, and that accounts for the difference you made such a fuss about. They used to stick out like this;" and she put her fingers in front of her own mouth to illustrate. "Don't you remember how we noticed the same thing when Mrs. Hopping had it done? It's made you quite passable, Johann," she declared.
"Is that it, Johann?" asked the mother, smiling.
"Is it very noticeable?" I asked, just escaping the pitfall of admitting that I remembered something about it. Rosa laughed and nodded. The ordeal was over, and the danger point passed; and soon afterwards she said she wanted to speak to me alone, and asked me to make an effort to get up.
I made the effort, laughed to myself as I cleaned my teeth that they should have been mistaken for false ones, and went downstairs to find Rosa waiting impatiently for me.
"I should have thought you could put those awful clothes on in half the time you've taken, Johann, but you were always slow in dressing," she bantered; and I was quite content to be chipped for a time until she was ready to come to the discussion of our own affairs.
"Is it true you've quite lost your memory?" she asked as Hans had done.
"The Rotterdam doctors said I should recover it. But I'm afraid I shouldn't have known even you."
"Don't you remember anything about my letters?" I shook my head. "Nor your own either?" Another wag of the head. "Well, do you still want to make me marry you?"
"I don't know. You're very pretty, Rosa."
"For Heaven's sake don't begin to pay me stupid compliments. I hate them. Hans takes good care I shan't forget my face isn't my fortune; and the moment a man begins to talk about my looks, I know he's thinking about my money. At least most of them," she qualified after a pause.
I understood the qualification. "Then there's an exception?"
She flushed slightly and was a little confused. "Yes, there is," she replied after a pause. "You'll have to know it some time, so you may as well know it now;" and she tossed her head defiantly. "I believe in coming straight to the point, Johann; and the question is whether you are still in the same mind as when you sent me that idiotic photograph, three months ago—the silly thing isn't a bit like you—and if you are, we had better face things at once."
"What did I say?" I asked, frowning.
"That you meant to hold me to the stupid engagement. But you can't do that, however much you wish. It's true that under the silly will the engagement can't be broken off till I'm five and twenty, unless you do it, but don't forget that I get half the money even if I don't marry you."
"Is that the will? It does seem silly, as you say."
"Oh, I know you believe you have the whiphand."
"Indeed, I don't know anything about it." It was really delicious to be able to tell the simple truth.
She frowned impatiently. "It's what you're thinking then," she declared rather snappily. I shook my head. What I really was considering was whether, since Lassen was at the bottom of the North Sea, I should make a friend of her by doing what she wished. "Well, anyhow, I want you to make haste and think about it all and let me know the result as soon as possible. I hate suspense, and things can't go on as they are," she continued vehemently.
I had no answer ready, and with a shrug of the shoulders she turned to another subject. "Is it true that you've turned spy?"
"Hoffnung seemed to suggest something of the sort yesterday."
She tossed her head and her lip curled. "If I were a man I'd rather be a street sweeper; but I'm not surprised atyourliking it. It's these things in you that are so natural. Your new teeth may have altered your looks, but of course they haven't changed your nature."
I couldn't restrain a smile; things were panning out so well: and before I replied the door was opened gently and the loveliest child I had ever seen came in. She was a delicate-featured, golden-haired youngster of about eleven—the replica in miniature of the Countess—with big sea-blue eyes which fastened on me shyly as she stood hesitating at the door.
"What is it, Lottchen?" cried Rosa sharply. "Come in and don't stand fiddling with the door handle in that stupid fashion. This is Cousin Johann, and you needn't stand staring at him as if he would eat you."
My heart went out to the kid instantly. "How do you do, Lottchen?" I said; and she came up, put her little hand into mine and left it there, as she held up her lovely face to be kissed, and then nestled close to me trustfully.
Rosa laughed. "That's a new thing for Lottchen, I can tell you; she hates men as a rule."
"You won't hate me, Lottchen, will you?" I said, smoothing her wondrous hair. She shook her head and smiled up at me and then laid her face against my shoulder.
"Don't worry Johann. He's got a bad face-ache."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I hurting you?" and the great blue eyes were full of sympathy, just as her mother's had been the previous night.
"Not a bit, my dear."
"Well, you must run away now, child, you'll see plenty of Johann. What is it you want?"
"Miss Caldicott sent me to see if you're coming out with us as usual."
The name seemed to strike me in the face, and a sharp cry of amazement was out before I could check it. It was lucky that Rosa had reminded me of my forgotten face-ache, and I invented a violent paroxysm of pain, whipped out my handkerchief and hid my face in it, to cover up my confusion.
Was it possible that Nessa and I were in the same house, or had I gone clean out of my senses?
It was some time before I allowed myself to recover from the little attack and felt equal to the task of resuming the conversation with Rosa. If the Miss Caldicott the child had mentioned was really Nessa—and it was difficult to think there would be two girls of that name shut up in Berlin at the same time—it was just the biggest stroke of luck I had ever had in my life.
Indeed, all the luck seemed to be coming my way; but I should have to be careful how I played the magnificent cards fate had placed in my hand. I must certainly have Rosa on my side; and that could probably be done by freeing her from the engagement. It couldn't be done at once, however; not until I had pretended to take time to consider.
I must also find out the relations between Rosa and Nessa; and must, if possible, manage not to have any one present when Nessa and I met for the first time. Not the easiest of jobs, probably; although my peculiar footing in the house might enable me to find a means. The risk was, of course, that in her amazement Nessa might give everything away.
"That was a sharp spasm and no mistake," I said when I lowered the handkerchief at last.
"Was it real, or just shamming to make us pity you?" asked Rosa suspiciously. "You were always good at shamming, you know."
"Was I? Oh well, I'm better, so it doesn't much matter."
"Did Lottchen hurt you, then? She's apt to be clumsy."
"She's rather a pretty child and doesn't look clumsy."
"She's the dearest little thing in the world, but it doesn't do to make too much of her. Every one spoils her because she's so pretty and looks so fragile. She isn't really delicate and can be no end of a romp, and is quite able to take her own part. She wants to go to school, and she'd have gone before if it hadn't been for the war and Nessa being here as her governess. You never saw anything like the way she loves Nessa."
I wasn't caught napping this time. "Nessa? And who's Nessa?" I asked with a frown of perplexity.
"Nessa Caldicott, an English girl who——"
"An English girl here, in this house, at such a time!" I exclaimed, lost in amazement.
"Yes, of course; in this house; and at such a time," she repeated, imitating my manner. "Have you any objection?"
"Of course not; but——" and I gestured to suggest anything.
"I wanted to talk to you about her. That's the one reason why I wasn't altogether sorry to hear you were in the Secret Service;" and then she told me that she and Nessa had been at school together, and how, when she found Nessa had had to leave her friends and could not get permission to go back to England, she had brought her home as Lottchen's governess. "She was in awful trouble, of course, and mother hated the idea of her coming to us; but I got my own way. That's about two months ago, and ever since we've been doing all we can to get her sent home."
This sent Rosa up many hundreds per cent. in my estimation. "I think it was awfully good of you; but why can't she go home?"
The question seemed to trouble her considerably. "If I tell you all about it, will you help us?"
"I don't suppose I can do anything, but I'll try."
"You may be able to find out the truth; and that will help, for we should know how to get to work. I think I know it, though, and I believe it's all the fault of a man who pesters her incessantly. He's a horrid beast, named Count von Erstein;" and she told me he was a wealthy Jew who had great influence with the Government; had tried and was still trying to get Nessa denounced as a spy and sent to one of the concentration camps; dogged her everywhere and set spies to watch her; had spread all manner of lying reports about her; and was intriguing in every possible way against her for his own infamous ends.
My blood boiled as I listened to all this, but I had to smother my rage sufficiently to assume just a conventional amount of indignation in keeping with Lassen's character. "An ugly story," I muttered.
"It doesn't seem to have roused you very much," she replied, her eyes flashing indignantly. "I should have thought it would have fired the blood of any ordinary man. It makes me feel that I could kill him; but then I'm only a woman."
It was clear that my manner was Lassenly enough, so I let it pass. "I'm curious to see the man."
"If he had his deserts, you'd see him in prison; but he's probably with Nessa and Lottchen now. He always hangs about near the house at this time, when they go for their walk. That was the meaning of the child's coming in just now. I generally go with them. Do you feel well enough to come out and see?"
After a little sham hesitation I agreed, and she went off to get ready, leaving me able to work off some of my rage alone. It was in all truth an ugly story, and, what was worse, threatened to make it very difficult to get Nessa away. No doubt it was abominably stupid of me, but until that moment I had never considered the practical means of getting her out of Berlin.
I had rushed off with the idea of finding out the truth about her in order to relieve her mother's anxiety, and somewhere at the back of my head was the idea that Jimmy's friend at the American Embassy would help me to do the rest.
But that was knocked on the head if this beast of a Jew had sufficient influence with his Government to block the way. And that he had considerable influence, Rosa's story left no doubt. She certainly could not get away openly, without permission from the authorities and a passport and all the rest of it; and it looked like a thousand to one chance against any such things being forthcoming.
That did not exhaust the resources of civilization, however, as the politicians are fond of saying; and at the worst we could try and make a bolt of it together, without any papers if necessary, but preferably with some in false names. So far as I was concerned I was ready to tramp it to the frontier on foot; but that wouldn't do for Nessa.
At any rate we must get her out of Berlin and away from this von Erstein's persecution. Nessa could gabble German quite as freely as I could; and once away from the capital, supplied with plenty of money as I was fortunately, we could try our luck and trust to fate.
"You've made me feel awfully strange about that fellow," I said to Rosa as we started from the house. "I suppose it means I'm angry. I feel I should like to kick the brute."
"I'm glad to hear it; but kicking won't be enough. What you've got to do is to find means to get Nessa away."
I shook my head doubtfully. "How are these things managed?"
"She must have a permit to travel; that will be difficult enough: and to cross the frontier there must be a passport, of course. That's where the Count stops everything. He has dinned it into the powers that be that she's a spy and wants to get away to carry her information to England. We nearly got one; but at the last moment the whole plan failed."
"Did Aunt Olga help, then?" I asked, hesitating how to speak of the Countess.
"No, mother wouldn't. It was—was a friend of mine, Herr Feldmann, if you wish to know," she said, with a slight tinge of colour, hesitating over the name and laughing self-consciously as I looked down at her and our eyes met.
"It appears to me that your English girl is lucky to have found such staunch friends, Rosa," I said as earnestly as I felt. "And between us we ought to be able to outwit this von Erstein."
"I wonder if you mean that," she replied, with a searching look.
"I think you'll find I do. They told me at Rotterdam that I had had a very near squeak of death; and whether it's that or something else, I don't seem to have any of the meannesses you associate with me. I am perfectly in earnest. Perhaps I've dropped the rest with my memory."
"I hope you have, Johann, and there's certainly a sincere look in your eyes there never used to be. Ah! There they are," she broke off, pointing a little distance ahead; and I saw Nessa and the child coming toward us, with the man in attendance.
We had turned into the Thiergarten and were in one of the larger side walks at the moment; the part where Nessa usually brought Lottchen, Rosa told me: and I had a good view of them before they saw us. Nessa had the child between her and von Erstein, and I was deeply concerned to notice how worn and troubled and harried she looked.
The man was talking to her over Lottchen's head and appeared to have no eyes for anybody or anything except her. He was about forty, I thought; the ruddy-faced type of Jew, clean-shaven, square of face, rather high cheekbones, a very un-Jewish nose, small eyes, with bags of sensuality under them, a somewhat heavy jowl, with little rolls of flesh under his chin and on his thick neck. Not by any means a bad-looking man and very smartly dressed in faultlessly cut clothes which, however, did not hide his tendency to paunchiness. An ugly customer to get across with, was my verdict.
I was more than a little bothered about Nessa meeting me for the first time in his presence, as it was extremely probable that she would give vent to her astonishment in a way that might start his suspicions, so I stepped out into full view while they were still a little distance away, hoping to prepare her.
But there was no trouble of the sort. Lottchen caught sight of us first and, breaking away, rushed up to me. I stopped with her, therefore, and Rosa went on to the other two; and to my intense satisfaction, she held von Erstein in talk while Nessa, glad no doubt of the relief, came to us.
It could not have happened more fortunately. Just before she reached us I managed to place the child so that she could not see Nessa, and then turned and raised my hat, giving her a clear view of my features.
"You!" she exclaimed, starting and turning as white as death and trembling so violently that for an instant I thought she was going to faint. But I did what a look would do to caution her and turned to the child.
"You must introduce me, Lottchen."
"This is my new Cousin Johann," she said a little shyly. And the slight interlude gave Nessa time to pull herself together sufficiently to return my bow.
It was a very formal bow, and the look in her eyes and the instinctive droop of the expressive mouth was much more suggestive of indignation than pleasure at seeing me. It was a great deal more like contempt or disgust; but by the time the others reached us she had entirely recovered her self-possession.
My introduction to von Erstein followed, and he displayed an amount of cordiality at making my acquaintance, which puzzled me at the moment. But I was not long left in doubt. My first uneasy impression was that he suspected the impersonation, gathered from the smiling slyness with which he looked at me.
As we were to cross swords it was necessary for me to probe this at once; and when Nessa entrenched herself securely between the two sisters and he showed a disposition to drop behind with me, I was glad of the chance.
He opened the ball by speaking of my loss of memory, and I soon found that I was wrong about his suspecting my imposture. He professed great sympathy with my misfortune, throwing in a hint that it might after all have its compensations. "A good many of us have memories we might be glad to lose, Herr Lassen," he added with a laugh, but in a tone which reminded me of what Hans had said about my past.
"I should be glad to have mine back, good or bad," I replied with a laugh as easy as his.
"Perhaps. One never knows," he retorted meaningly. Then he switched off to the von Rebling family. "Most charming people; delightful; but unfortunately there's one little fly in the amber. You know it, of course?" and he nodded toward Nessa.
"I only arrived late last night. What is it?"
"It is a thousand pities; but these are times in which no one can afford to run risks, even with the highest motives. I know, of course, that Miss von Rebling's motives are of the highest; but we have to think imperially; especially in regard to this plague of spies. You agree with that, of course?"
"Naturally; but how does that apply here?"
He paused, rolling his eyes round at me with a significant shake of the head. "Why do you suppose that English girl there, Miss Caldicott, finds it so desirable to be an inmate of their house?"
"Rosa told me she was Lottchen's governess."
He put his forefinger to the side of his nose and winked and nodded. "Ostensibly—yes; but in reality—eh?"
"Do you mean she's a spy?" I cried, appropriately shocked.
He nodded emphatically. "I do; and I'm relying on your help in the matter. They may have told you that I have a great deal of interest in circles that would enable me to be of considerable help to you; and I have every wish that we two should be great friends. My influence is such that you may depend upon getting high in the service you wish to join. Very high."
"I'm not likely to quarrel with any one who can help me in that way, of course; but you see there's a bit of a stumbling-block at present until I can get over this infernal loss of memory."
"Oh, that'll soon come right."
"So all the doctors at Rotterdam told me; but so far——" and I broke off with a flourish of the hands.
"I think I can help you about that, too. Of course when you were known to be coming here I made such inquiries about you as were open to me, and the result made me feel sure that you would wish to be friendly with me;" and he leered at me in a way that left me in no doubt as to his sinister meaning. He thought he had me in his power.
"I shall be tremendously interested to learn what you heard. So far as I know, I might have been born about a week ago, and it's a devilish unpleasant feeling."
He favoured me with another leer. "Ah, you're a good deal older than that," he said meaningly. "I fancy I can convince you if you'll come and have a chat with me. Here's my address," giving me his card.
"Certainly I'll come," said I readily. "You've roused my curiosity tremendously. What time and day?"
"Come and lunch with me to-morrow. In the morning you'll be wanted in the Amtstrasse; Baron von Gratzen, you know. Come on to me from him. I can open your eyes to a thing or two; and I'm altogether mistaken if we can't come to understand one another thoroughly. I'll manage to refresh that lapsed memory of yours, Lassen, and perhaps find the real reason for it."
"The Rotterdam people put it down to shock," I replied, as if I had not understood him.
"Ah, the doctors don't know everything, my friend," he returned drily. "But I must get off. Till tomorrow, then. Don't forget;" and he quickened after the others, shook hands, patted Lottchen on the cheek, much to her disgust, and went off.
A pleasant fellow, very. Evidently a strong believer in the knuckle-duster methods; meant to use them to force me to help him in his infamous scheme against Nessa, and had discovered something about my past which would bring me to heel. That was his ideal of friendship. Certainly a very pleasant fellow!
That was a generous offer of his influence, too. Thinking me to be as big a scoundrel as himself, he was ready to betray his country by pushing me up the ladder of promotion if I would only help him in his blackguardism. A staunch patriot, too. Deutschland über alles! but von Erstein first!
I was certainly curious to know what it was he had discovered; but my speculations were interrupted by Lottchen, who came back to me and took my hand and made me chatter to her until we reached the house.
This was all right, as it saved Nessa from having to talk trivialities with me in Rosa's presence, gave her an opportunity of accustoming herself to my presence in Berlin and nerving herself for the inevitable deception it involved.
How she would treat me I could not guess; but I was utterly unprepared for the attitude she did assume. She hurried into the house the instant we reached it and disappeared. We met at the midday dinner; but she steadfastly refused even to cast so much as a glance in my direction.
Rosa made more than one attempt to draw her into conversation with me; but every effort was foiled by Nessa pretending to have to pay some attention to Lottchen, who sat by her. In fact, she ignored me as completely as if I had not been present and seized the first opportunity to leave the room.
I had looked for any treatment rather than that; and felt more than a little riled and aggrieved. It was no harmless picnic, this jaunt of mine to Berlin; and I thought she might have taken that into consideration.
But there was more than mere pique involved. If she meant to keep up this attitude, how was I to come to any understanding with her?
I might as well go back to my flying—if that were possible. Itself a pretty stiff proposition, as Jimmy would have said.
Nessa's treatment of me both offended and distressed the Countess, and Rosa tried to draw her attention away from it by engaging her in a discussion about the afternoon's arrangements. It appeared that the Countess always spent an hour or two on that particular day with a very old friend, an invalid; Rosa herself had an engagement; Hans had to attend some lecture or other in connection with his military studies; and Nessa generally took Lottchen for a drive.
I would not hear of the arrangements being altered on my account, declaring that I should be glad of the opportunity to get some decent clothes.
"Then there will be an empty house," declared Rosa as we rose from the table.
There were two servants—an elderly woman, named Gretchen, and Marie, a younger one—in the room during the discussion; an important fact in the light of after events.
Some letters arrived for the Countess and Rosa; and when the former took hers away to the drawing-room, Rosa detained me in the library to speak about Nessa's conduct. "I can't understand it, Johann," she said irritably.
"Does it matter much?" I asked with a shrug.
"Of course it does. How are you going to help her if she keeps up this ridiculous attitude? I've no patience with her."
"Oh, I have. She knows about our engagement, of course, and being staunch to you looks on me as an enemy."
"But she knew you were coming and was most anxious to see you, and even promised to try and bring you to reason."
"Have you told her that I'm willing to help her; if I can, that is?"
"No, but I'll go and tell her now, and tell her also that if she doesn't wish to make mother furious, she'd better take things differently."
"Perhaps if I could have a quiet chat with her, it might do the trick," I suggested casually.
"Then you mustn't lose any time about it. Why not this afternoon? I can take Lottchen with me, and if you stop in, it could be managed easily. And when I come back the three of us can talk the thing over together."
I agreed to this like a shot, and we went into the drawing-room, where her mother was still reading her letters. Rosa glanced hurriedly at hers, locked them in a little bureau, and hurried off to tackle Nessa.
The Countess was standing by a very handsome cabinet, a drawer of which she had opened, and called me up to her. "Come here, Johann, I want you to see me put these letters away," she said to my astonishment, and, drawing my attention to the neatness with which her letters and papers were arranged, asked me to remember precisely where she put those which had just arrived, and to make sure that the drawer was locked. "I want to have a witness," she added.
Then she spoke of Nessa's behaviour to me, saying how it had grieved and surprised her.
"It is really not of the least consequence," I assured her.
"But I'm sorely afraid it is, Johann, and I'm very troubled. That's one reason why I wished you to do that just now. I was always against her coming to the house, but Rosa would have her;" and then by degrees the reason came out.
She was afraid that von Erstein's story was true, that Nessa was really a spy. Some one had a key to her drawer in the cabinet; she had found her papers disturbed more than once; she kept money in the same place, but none of it had ever been taken, so that it could not be the work of a thief; she believed that Rosa's bureau had also been tampered with; and as the servants were above suspicion, there seemed to be only one conclusion.
The dear little lady was more grieved than angry about it. "I'm very sorry for Nessa really, Johann, but we can't have a spy in the house; yet I don't know how to get rid of her. But I won't open that drawer again until you are with me, and then we shall both know that I'm not making a mistake. Meanwhile, don't say anything to Rosa or any one."
We went upstairs together, and she was telling me the address of Hans' tailor and how I was to find it, when the old servant, Gretchen, passed us. Rosa was waiting dressed to go out, and told me she had spoken to Nessa, who would come down to me in the drawing-room after the rest had left the house.
"She baffles me, Johann. She just jumped at your offer to help her get away—after her conduct just now, too! But she seems to have taken a violent dislike to you, and even declared she wouldn't stop in the same house with you," she said in a tone of consternation.
I passed it off with a smile and some banal remark about feminine inconsistency, and went downstairs to wait for Nessa. There was a lounge at the end of the drawing-room, a big comfortable sort of winter garden, with lots of big plants, and rugs and easy chairs and so on, and I sat down there to think over the position. I didn't smoke; a lucky fact in view of things.
It worried me excessively that Nessa should be regarded as a spy, and I was puzzling over the explanation of what the Countess had told me when I heard the front door shut. That meant they had left the house and that Nessa would soon be down.
But she did not come for some time, and presently I heard a movement in the big room, the faint click of a key being turned and then of a drawer being cautiously opened.
The conclusion was obvious. The spy was at work, believing that I had gone to the tailor's and meaning to fix the thing on Nessa, should her little operation be discovered. So I got up noiselessly and, from the safe shelter of some plants, did a little spy work on my own account.
It was one of the servants, of course; but I could not at first catch sight of her face. She was at Rosa's bureau, reading a letter, probably one of those which had come just before. That did not occupy more than a minute, and she next opened the Countess's cabinet drawer, picked out a couple of letters, glanced at them rapidly, just tossed them back carelessly, relocked the drawer, and turned to leave the room.
I saw her clearly then, for she went out by a door which stood at my end of the room, near the big stove in the corner. It was Gretchen.
It would never do to have a possible eavesdropper when Nessa and I were together, and, being unwilling to let the woman know she had been seen, I crept over to the door we all used, opened it noisily, shut it with a bang, and began to whistle.
This had immediate results. I heard the door of the stove opened at the back, some logs were thrown in, and directly afterwards Gretchen came out, with an apology for disturbing me.
"It's my work to see to the stoves, sir," she explained with a smirk. "And the door to our quarters is locked."
"All right, Gretchen. It's getting chilly, isn't it?"
"It gets cold in the evenings, sir, and my orders are to see that the stoves are kept going well." She was a little uneasy; and after she had been gone a while, I had a look at the hiding-place.
It was a passage with cupboards on each side, and as the door at the other end was fastened, she had been compelled to return through the room when she had heard me. There was a bolt on my side of that door, and I shot it to prevent her coming back to listen while Nessa and I were together.
I was only a minute or two in the place, but when I left it I found Nessa already in the drawing-room. She had caught me apparently in the act of playing the spy, and her look left no doubt about her opinion.
I laughed. I really could not help it. It was such a preposterous misreading of the situation that the ludicrous absurdity of it appealed to me. Of course my laughter added to her indignation and also to the awkwardness of the meeting.
"You are practising your new profession, I see. It appears to rouse your sense of humour," she said icily.
"It would probably rouse yours also if you understood everything," I retorted, not at all relishing her prompt condemnation.
"I don't see anything particularly humorous in your sneaking into the house of my friends and spying in its holes and corners."
"Perhaps not, but I had a good reason," I said shortly, a bit rattled by her sneer.
"No doubt; but I have no curiosity on such a subject. Rosa has induced me to see you, so I——" She got so far in the same level, cutting tone, evidently putting a great restraint upon herself; but she could not keep it up. Her eyes blazed suddenly, her cheeks flushed, and raising her voice in her indignation she exclaimed: "How dare you come——"
I had to stop that, however, as the old eavesdropper might have followed her to the room and be on keyhole drill. "I am very glad to meet you, Miss Caldicott," I broke in in German loudly enough to be heard outside, and added in a low tone in English: "It is not safe to speak so loudly as you did. Come away from the door;" and I led the way into the conservatory.
She stared at me as if I were a dangerous lunatic, but after a moment's pause followed me. "Say what you like now, but lower your voice," I said, lowering my own tone.
She hesitated, but acted on the warning and returned to her former icy tone. "What I want to know is why you dare to come here in a false name, as the sham lover of my friend, and humiliate me in this way. If you must be a spy, haven't you enough decency to avoid blackening me by making me a partner in such treacherous baseness?"
I met her angry look for a second, realizing that this was the reason for her conduct to me; and it was all I could do to prevent myself smiling at her injustice, although it riled me considerably.
"Rather a rough judgment," I replied with a shrug, "and your manner doesn't smooth it out much; but as no one else can hear you now, I don't mind so much. I can explain——"
"Explain!" she broke in scornfully.
"Yes, explain. That's what I said. If you understood——"
"I do understand as it is—too well," she fired in again.
I really could not help smiling again, both at her words and flashing anger. "I must either smile or lose my temper as you have done; and it's better to smile."
This was like petrol on the fire. "Just what I should expect of you—to see nothing but a joke in my indignation."
"I'm not laughing at your indignation, but at your mistake. You always have been ready to make the worst of anything I do."
"What have you ever done that was worth doing?"
"Nothing much, I admit."
"If you were like other men you'd be doing what they are doing—fighting."
"Perhaps I should; but we can't all be soldiers."
Her lip curled. "Men can; but even you needn't have sunk so low as to be a spy!"
"Go on. I'm not ashamed of what I'm doing; and if you'll let me explain——"
She stopped me again with an impatient gesture. "I need no explanation, thank you. Aren't you here as Johann Lassen?"
"Yes."
"Pretending to be engaged to Rosa von Rebling?"
"Yes."
"And pretending to have lost your memory?"
"Yes."
"Haven't you both spoken and acted lies to gain admission to this house?"
"I had to, of course."
"You convict yourself out of your own mouth, then?"
"Apparently."
"Aren't you trying to get employed in the Secret Service here?"
"Looks black, doesn't it?"
"Looks!" and she drew a long deep breath and repeated the word. "But you don't imagine for one instant that I will be a party to it!"
"You are already, for that matter."
"You shall leave this house at once and never set foot in it again, and I shall find the means to let Rosa know the disgraceful trick you have played."
"And if I refuse?"
"I'll expose you as surely as my name is Nessa Caldicott."
"You know what the result would be to me?"
"I neither know nor care."
"Then I'll tell you. I should certainly be imprisoned and most probably shot."
She wavered somewhat at that. "It is easy for you to avoid it by doing what I say—leave the house."
"That's out of the question."
"Do you expect me to allow you to go on imposing on the girl who has been my friend at a time when I was absolutely helpless? Wouldn't you be ashamed of me if I were to consent to such treachery? Can't you see what a vile degradation it would be, and that I should hate myself as well as you if I consented?"
"No. Yes. Yes. I wish you'd ask one question at a time."
"Do you expect me to smile at such insufferable flippancy as that?"
"No. But it wasn't flippancy at all. I was answering your questions in order. You appear to think that I like being compelled to deceive Miss von Rebling."
"How can you talk about having been compelled to do it?"
"Because it happens to be the truth."
"Your version of the truth, you mean?"
"Exactly. My version of the truth, although you won't believe it. I was forced into the thing against my will by a series of coincidences which I found it impossible to avoid; and, as a matter of fact, I am not harming Miss von Rebling in the least."
"Haven't you led her to believe you may break off the engagement?"
"I've been considering it."
"Don't you call that harming her?"
"No."
"How can you say that? What will happen when the real man arrives?"
"Not even then."
She gestured incredulously. "It's impossible," she cried. "In any case I insist upon her being told."
I stopped to think a bit. I knew Nessa so well that I could quite understand her mood. Her first fierce rush of anger had spent itself, checked, I was sure, by my statement of the consequences to me if the truth were told. She had not a suspicion of the reason for my being in Berlin, evidently believing that I had come as a spy, and knew even better than I what my end would be if I were denounced; and her words had cut me too deeply to let me tell her the truth then—that I had only come on her account.
At the same time I could quite appreciate how she would shrink from being made a partner, as she had said, and her impatience for me to leave the house. It was an awkward corner, but I thought I could see a way round it.
"I'll do what you suggest," I said at length.
"Go away?"
"No. Tell Miss von Rebling."
This alarmed her at once. "But you? What you said about the risk?" she protested.
"Oh, never mind about me. You said you couldn't endure it; and, of course, nothing matters compared with that. I should have taken care to let her know everything as soon as I'd done what I came to do."
"What is that?"
"Your mother is very anxious about you, and when she knew I was coming here, naturally wanted me to find out things."
"But they've had my letters, surely?"
"Not a line since some time after Christmas."
"Do you mean that, Jack? Oh, poor mother! I've written regularly every week. When Julia Wassermann died, her father, who hates the English and hated me because I'm English, turned me out of the house. I should have gone to one of these dreadful concentration camps, if it hadn't been for Rosa. That's why I can't bear the thought of deceiving her; but—I—I don't want to get you into any trouble. We—we can't tell her. We—we mustn't. You can go away, can't you?" and she bit her lip in desperate perplexity and distress.
"I'm going to tell her, Nessa," I said.
"But I don't wish it, Jack. I really don't. I didn't mean all the horrid things I said just now; I—I'm sorry. I've been just distracted."
"Don't worry. Nothing very terrible is likely to come to me; and I quite agree that she ought to know the truth."
She looked at me wonderingly. "How different you are, Jack. What has changed you so? You're so quiet and so—so firm. You don't look the same. Not a bit like you used to be in any way, manner, bearing, everything. I saw it the moment I came into the room."
"You didn't show it. You went for me in much the same old style, you know," I said with a smile. "You always did think me a rotter."
"Do you mean that you've risked coming here merely because of—of what mother told you about me."
"Not very likely, is it?"
"It wouldn't have been at one time, but—— You mustn't say anything to Rosa. You mustn't, really. You won't, Jack, will you?" and she laid her hand on my arm appealingly.
"I must, Nessa."
"No, no. I won't be the cause——"
And then, just as she was clinging to my arm and urging me, she broke away with a sudden cry of consternation.
I turned to find Rosa standing in the doorway, staring at us wide-eyed in amazement.