CHAPTER IV
The ride to Hamburg was short and pleasant. There the whole party disembarked; Elsa and the Baroness to remain, and Ferreira and Topham to take another train for Berlin.
In the waiting-room Topham made his farewells. Ferreira had gone to see after the baggage and the Baroness had fallen a little behind, so that the two were practically alone. Briefly, almost coldly, for fear his passion might break away in spite of himself, Topham pressed the girl’s hand and bade her adieu.
“Good-by, Senorita,” he said, slowly. “I have to thank you for a very delightful voyage. Is there no chance at all that I may see you in Berlin. I shall be there till day after tomorrow.”
The girl shook her head. If she were piqued by Topham’s self-restraint she did not show it. “I must stay in Hamburg for the present,” she answered, deliberately. “I shall not go to Berlin till much later. So this is really good-by, senor.”
“Good-by.” Topham clasped her extendedhand; then turned away, afraid to trust himself further.
But the girl called him back. “Senor!” she exclaimed softly. “Senor!”
“Yes!”
“Listen! Be careful. Be very careful. Things—happen—to strangers sometimes. Be very careful, senor, till you are safe in Berlin.”
Topham stared. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“There is nothing to understand—except to be—careful. This country is not always altogether safe for strangers. Be careful—for my sake, senor.”
The girl’s voice broke and Topham started forward, flinging resolutions to the wind.
“Elsa,” he cried. “I—”
But the voice of Ferreira broke in. “Cab’s waiting, Elsa,” he called. “Come along! Hurry! Or you’ll make Senor Topham and me miss our train.”
Recalled to himself by the interruption, Topham raised the girl’s hand to his lips, then dropped it and saw her led away.
Soon Ferreira was back. “Quick, Senor Topham!” he called. “The train’s waiting.”
Many people apparently were going to Berlin,but few of them appeared to hold first-class tickets, and the two young men speedily found an empty carriage, in which they ensconced themselves.
Ferreira promptly leaned out of the window. “Here! guard,” he said, holding out his hand. “I don’t want to be bothered with other people! You understand!” A piece of silver changed hands and the Brazilian settled back.
Then he turned and nodded to Topham.
“We’ll try to keep this compartment to ourselves, senor,” he said. “I detest travelling shut in with three or four others. I suppose you agree with me.”
Topham answered that he did.
An instant later the guards began to run along the platform slamming the doors. Just before they reached the carriage that sheltered Topham, two Germans came running up. One of them grabbed the handle of the door and jerked it open, and both precipitated themselves into the carriage, despite the Brazilian’s strenuous protests.
“We have as good right here as you, nicht wahr?” asserted the foremost, seating himself without any ceremony. “This carriage is not reserved? What? It has no placard out? No!”
Ferreira fumed, pouring out so swift a torrent of guttural German that Topham, good German scholar as he was, could not understand one word in five. The intruders, however, clearly understood very well. Scornfully indifferent at first, they soon roused to the assault and apparently gave back as good as he sent.
In the middle of the dispute the train started, but neither Ferreira nor his adversary seemed to note that the case was closed. Hotter and hotter waxed the wordy war. Soon the two men were glaring at each other, shaking their fists and seeming on the point of flying at each other’s throats.
Topham watched the contest with twinkling eyes. If he had been in Italy or France, where men are supposed to be more excitable, the scene would not have seemed very strange to him. But that notoriously phlegmatic Germans should work themselves into a passion over such a trifle seemed to him amazing. He scarcely believed, however, that the quarrel would end in actual violence; and so, though ready to aid Ferreira (Elsa’s brother) if need arose, he sat still and looked on, letting a ghost of a smile flicker across his lips.
Instantly, with bewildering abruptness theother German leaned across the carriage, shaking his fist in the American’s face, and shouting something which Topham did not catch, but which he instinctively knew was insulting.
The navy officer flushed angrily, and the next moment the other launched a blow at his face.
Topham parried and struck back shrewdly. He landed, but before he could follow up his advantage, the other German precipitated himself upon him, and in an instant the carriage became a pandemonium of struggling, kicking, fighting men.
Topham was big and strong, but he had been taken unawares, and found himself pinned down in the seat in the grasp of men stronger than he. Ferreira, though he struggled, did so ineffectively, and both intruders were practically free to concentrate on the American. The bout ended with Topham and Ferreira on the floor with the two Germans sitting on top of them, panting.
The struggle had lasted for some time, and in the momentary hush that followed its cessation the shriek of the locomotive was heard, whistling for a stop.
None of the four moved as the train slowed down. Then the Germans stood up, releasing theothers. “We leave here, Herren,” said the leader. “This is our address if you wish to carry matters further.” They both bowed, flung down their cards, and stepped out through the door that the guard opened for them.
Left alone, Ferreira and Topham arose slowly. Topham was humiliated and intensely angry, but he saw the futility of engaging in a further contest at that moment. In fact, he scarcely knew what to do. The crisis had come with such bewildering suddenness, and had been so surprising both in its inception and its results, that it had taken away his breath, both actually and figuratively. That such a thing should happen in a German railway carriage, of all places in the world, was to him almost too amazing for belief.
Meanwhile Ferreira had snatched up the cards. “They shall die for this,” he hissed. “Madre de Dios! But they shall die. I have friends here. They will act for you too, Senor Topham! Come! Let us seek them!” He made as if to leave the train.
But Topham shook his head. “Not for me,” he declared. “I don’t fight duels, not when I’mon duty, anyhow. Besides, I see little cause. They bested us fairly. Anyhow, it’s too late now.”
As a matter of fact, the train was moving again.
The Brazilian hesitated. Then suddenly he tore the cards to pieces and flung them out of the window. “So be it, Senor!” he acceded.
Topham glanced down at his clothes and found them whole, though badly rumpled. Suddenly he started, just as he had on the steamer the night he left New York, and thrust his hands into his inner pocket; then dropped it weakly to his side.
At his blank look Ferreira cried out: “You are hurt, senor!” he exclaimed.
Slowly the color came back to Topham’s face. “No!” he said. “Not—not—hurt! You—you don’t see an envelope—a big blue envelope—lying around anywhere, do you?” Dazedly he peered under the seats.
Ferreira aided him. “I hope it was not valuable, senor!” he ventured.
Slowly Topham shook his head. “Not intrinsically,” he answered. “But—but it was—of great personal value to me. Those men must have taken it. I suppose it is too late to find them?”
The Brazilian looked blank. “Dolt that I am!” he cried. “I destroyed the cards!”
Topham nodded. “Probably they would be useless, anyhow,” he muttered. “We will say no more about it, senor, if you will be so kind.”
The rest of the trip passed uneventfully. Topham was moody and said little, and Ferreira did not disturb him.
When Berlin was reached Ferreira leaped lightly from the train. “You will come to my hotel, and refresh yourself, senor; it is not so?” he invited.
But Topham shook his head. “Thank you,” he replied. “I must go first to the American Embassy. The secretary there is an old friend of mine. In fact I came by Berlin particularly to see him. So you will excuse me, senor.”
Ferreira bowed. “Ah!” he exclaimed. “El Senor Rutile! He is a friend of yours? A fine fellow, Rutile! Boni! I shall do myself the honor to call on you later. Auf wiedersehen, senor.”
With a nod and a bow he was gone.
Topham stared after him perplexedly. “I guess you were in it, my friend,” he syllabled, slowly; “and I guess you think you’ve won. But the gameisn’t yours yet, not by a long shot.” He paused; then “God bless her,” he muttered. “She tried to save me! God bless her!”