The Man Without a Memory by Arthur W. Marchmont (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

should be sent home "for my sake," and the startling proposal at the very last moment, that she should go in my charge, which had literally taken my breath away.

What was one to think? It was a very puzzle of puzzles, especially in view of the unreliable vagaries of German officials in general and of what Rosa and the rest had said about von Gratzen in particular.

What a lovely mix up it would be if his suggestion materialized and Nessa and I were packed off together under official protection! It seemed a million times too good to be even thinkable. Compared with such a gloriously gorgeous plan, our little conspiracy scheme seemed almost contemptibly mean and commonplace; scarcely worth bothering about for a moment. But it was best to have as many strings to the bow as possible, so I went to the von Reblings' to hear if Rosa had anything to tell me about it.

Ought the others to be told of the fresh development? It seemed better not for the present. It was hard luck to have to keep such stunning news secret, but there was nothing to be gained by raising Nessa's hopes until they were virtually certain to be fulfilled. What would she think of the notion? I hoped I could guess. Being a bit of a sanguine ass, I started castle-building on the foundation, and by the time the Karlstrasse was reached, I had planned, built, and furnished a very noble edifice indeed.

Old Gretchen opened the door as usual, and her look and start of surprise and general manner, suggesting something uncommonly like consternation, brought me down to earth and shattered my castle effectively.

"They are not at home, sir," she declared hurriedly; and instead of opening the door wide, she held it so as really to block my entrance. Her obvious nervousness probably accounted for a step which at once roused suspicions.

"No one at all?"

"No, sir. They will not be home until late."

"That's a nuisance; but I'd better speak to Miss Caldicott."

"She's not in either, sir." The reply was given hesitatingly, and she made as if to shut the door.

A smile and a casual, "Oh well, it doesn't matter," put her off her guard and her relief was shown in her change of look. "Can I give them any message, sir?" she asked. But her relief vanished and gave place to greater concern than ever when I pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"That's a good idea, Gretchen; I'll write them a little note," I said, as I passed her in the direction of the drawing-room.

She slipped before me and stood by the library. "You'll find paper and everything here, sir," she smirked.

It looked as if she wanted to keep me from the drawing-room; and it was not difficult to guess that she had been disturbed at her spy work there. It was a bad shot, however; for during the pause there came the murmur of voices in the drawing-room itself.

"You must be wrong, Gretchen. They must have come in without your knowing. I can hear them."

"Oh, no, sir. The door's locked. I have orders always to keep it locked when the Countess is not at home;" and she held up the key in proof and slipped between me and the door.

I started with a great appearance of alarm and pushed past her. "Then there's a thief in the house," I exclaimed.

At that instant there was the sound of some sort of commotion in the drawing-room; a cry of "How dare you?" in Nessa's voice, followed by a sneering laugh, uncommonly like von Erstein's.

CHAPTER XII "LIKE OLD TIMES"

I snatched the key from Gretchen, who was now very white and shaky, opened the drawing-room door and was going to rush in, when it occurred to me that if Nessa was caught off her guard, she might let out something.

"All right, Gretchen, thank you," I said, loudly enough for Nessa to hear.

The woman flung up her hands and bolted, and I went in as if making an ordinary call.

Nessa had rushed into the conservatory to escape from von Erstein and came back as I entered, her face flushed and her eyes ablaze with furious indignation, while he, dumbfounded and looking as black as thunder, scowled at me viciously.

"This man has grossly insulted me, Herr Lassen!" she cried. "Taking advantage of the Countess's absence, he got me here on the pretence of a message to be given to her, and then—— Ugh! I can't speak it;" and she dropped into a chair and hid her face in her hands.

"I only took your advice, Lassen, and asked Miss Caldicott to marry me," he said sullenly. "And then she——"

"Did you advise that?" broke in Nessa, starting up excitedly.

That wasn't the moment to explain things, of course. Something had to be attended to first. I walked up to von Erstein with intentional deliberation, feeling a little thrill of joy at the fright in his eyes, put my hand on the collar of his coat, and led him towards the door. He was too abjectly scared to make more than the merest show of resistance.

"Have you anything more to say to him?" I asked Nessa, halting when we reached the door.

"No, no. Only send him away. Send him away," she exclaimed.

I took him out into the hall and then released him. "I'm going to thrash you, von Erstein. Two reasons. You made your spy here lock this door so that you could have that girl to yourself; and yesterday you said things which made me itch to thrash you then."

"I didn't mean——"

"That'll do. Don't tell any more lies."

He tried to bluster. "You'd better not strike me, Lassen; I can——"

A smack on the face, given with all my strength, caused the threat to die stillborn and also showed the stuff he was made of. He pretended that the force of it knocked him down and nothing would induce him to get up again. So the fight ended where it began, as I couldn't hit him while he lay on the ground. Regretting that the one smack had been such a poor one, I dragged him into the hall, plopped him on to the doormat, and chucked him his hat, swearing that if he stopped in Berlin, the job would be finished in workmanlike fashion. He squirmed there long enough to see that no more was coming, then opened the door, paused to curse and threaten me, and bolted.

Nessa was furious, and her first question showed that some of her anger was for me. Von Erstein's little shaft about my "advice" had gone home. "Is what that man said true? Did you advise him to ask me to marry him?" the emphasis strongly on the "advise."

I nodded; and very naturally her lip curled.

"I wouldn't have believed it possible," she exclaimed.

"He told me yesterday about things and I asked him if he had asked you. If that's advising, I advised."

"And yet you know the kind of man he is and that he has been persecuting me in this fashion?"

"But anyhow I didn't advise you to accept him."

"Jack!" she cried indignantly.

"Herr Lassen's safer, and in German too."

"It's almost enough to make me say I'll never speak to you again."

"Worse than he is, eh?" It was really a curious thing, but we never seemed able to resist a chance of misunderstanding one another; and when she took this line, it was impossible for me to resist chipping her.

"Did you thrash him?" she asked after a pause.

"No; not an easy job in the circs."

"You've developed a wise discretion," she said with a smile which wasn't exactly soothing.

"He's a fellow with a lot of influence, you see."

There was one feature about our tiffs; they generally ended all right; and this time she seemed to realize that we were off the lines. She thought a while and her manner changed. "Do you want me to believe that after what happened here and what I said, you just thanked him and shook hands? Because I don't believe it. I heard you hit him. That's why I asked if you'd thrashed him."

"I smacked his face, as a sort of preface, but he lay down and wouldn't get up, so I had to cart him out to the front door. A poor show; but I fancy he'll give me a wide berth in the future. Would you care to tell me what passed?"

"He sent up that woman, Gretchen, to say that he was leaving Berlin and that the Countess had given him a message for me about something she had of his. I was only too thankful to hear he was going away, and when I got down, she locked the door. It was all planned, of course; and he asked me to marry him, and when I gave him his answer, he grabbed hold of me and kissed me. I broke from him and rushed into the conservatory, intending to get out that way into the garden; but he had fastened the window, and when I was trying to get it open, you came, thank Heaven."

"I guessed that was about the size of it."

"I was never more relieved in my life."

"Even though it was only me."

"Yes, even though it was only you." This with a smile, however, which quite belied her indifferent tone.

"Well, it's all right now. As a matter of fact he has found it wise to leave in consequence of a hint I gave him yesterday."

"Tell me."

"Better let it wait a while." There was nothing to be gained by telling her the truth. "I came to see if there is any news."

"There is, unfortunately. I've received an order from the police to report myself to-morrow."

"The deuce you have! I wonder what that means. Who signed it?"

"Baron von Gratzen."

I stared at her in amazement. Confound the man. Here he was cropping up again in this mysteriously unexpected fashion. "When did you get it?"

"Only a minute or two before that man called."

What on earth could it mean? It looked as if he had gone straight from his promise to help her to leave and then sent this. "Where have you to report?"

"The Amtstrasse," and she handed me the paper. It came from his offices and was signed in his own handwriting.

"I give it up. These beggars beat me every time. Only an hour or two back he told me that you should be sent back home," and I told her about that part of the interview and that he had said I could tell Rosa. "It's true he said something about making some inquiries about you, so as to be satisfied you're not a spy."

"Then of course he's going to begin by questioning me himself."

"Possibly, but—I get such different reports about him. You'll have to look out, too. He's sure to cross-examine you about me. I can't get it out of my head that he suspects I'm flying under the wrong flag. You'd better never have seen me before, mind; and whatever you do, look out for traps and things; and he's as artful as a cartload of monkeys at the game."

She was tremendously excited by the news about going home. I had to repeat every word he had said about it, and of course she got out of me that he had spoken about our going home together.

"Oh, wouldn't that be lovely!" she exclaimed.

"To go with me?"

"To go with any one, of course," she said with sudden indifference. "If you'd been through half that I have and had a quarter of the suspense I've had to endure, you'd be glad too."

"I'm glad enough, as it is. I think this beastly climate is anything but healthy for either of us just now."

"Oh, to be free once more!" she cried with a deep, deep sigh of longing. "Do you know that more than once I've been on the point of risking everything and just bolting and chancing my luck."

"Which reminds me that I'd better tell you the spare wheels I've