The Red Rat's Daughter by Guy Boothby (books to read in your 20s .txt) 📕

utmost assistance to you; a man without whom, indeed, it would be quite impossible for you to succeed in your undertaking."

"That is really very kind of you," said Browne; "and, pray, who is this interesting person, and where shall I find him?"

"His name is Johann Schmidt," said Sauber, "and for some years past he has taken up his residence in Hong-kong. Since we are alone, I may as well inform you that he makes a speciality of these little affairs, though I am not aware that he has done very much in that particular locality in which you are at present most interested. New Caledonia is more in his line. However, I feel sure that that will make little or no difference to him, and I do not think you can do better than pay him a visit when you reach Eastern waters."

"But how am I to broach the subject to him? And how am I to know that he will help me? I cannot very well go to him and say straight out that I am anxious to help a Russian convict to escape from Saghalien."

"I will give you a letter to him," replied Herr Sauber, "and after he has read it you will find that you will have no difficulty in the matter whatsoever. For a sum to be agreed upon between you, he will take the whole matter off your hands, and all you will have to do will be to meet the exile at a spot which will be arranged, and convey him to a place of safety."

"I am sure I am exceedingly obliged to you," said Browne. "But will you answer me one more question?"

"I will answer a hundred if they will help you," the other replied. "But what is this particular one?"

"I want to know why you did not tell us all this, when we were discussing the matter at the house just now."

"Because in these matters the safest course is to speak into one ear only. If you will be guided by me you will follow my example. When no one knows what you are going to do, save yourself, it is impossible for any one to forestall or betray you."

By this time they had reached the corner of the Rue Auber. Here the old gentleman stopped and held out his hand.

"At this point our paths separate, I think," he said, "and I have the honour to wish you good-night."

"But what about that address in Hong-kong?" Browne inquired. "As I leave for England to-morrow, it is just possible that I may not see you before I go."

"I will send it to your hotel," Herr Sauber replied. "I know where you are staying. Good-night, my friend, and may you be as successful in the work you are undertaking as you deserve to be."

Browne thanked him for his good wishes, and bade him good-night. Having done so, he resumed his walk alone, with plenty to think about. Why it should have been so he could not tell, but it seemed to him that, since his interview with the old man, from whom he had just parted, the whole aspect of the affair to which he had pledged himself had changed. It is true that he had had his own suspicions of Madame Bernstein from the beginning, but they had been only the vaguest surmises and nothing more. Now they seemed to have increased, not only in number, but in weight; yet, when he came to analyse it all, the whole fabric tumbled to pieces like a house of cards. No charge had been definitely brought against her, and all that was insinuated was that she might possibly be somewhat indiscreet. That she was as anxious as they were to arrange the escape of Katherine's father from the island, upon which he was imprisoned, was a point which admitted of no doubt. Seeing that Katherine was her best friend in the world, it could scarcely have been otherwise. And yet there was a nameless something behind it all that made Browne uneasy and continually distrustful. Try how he would, he could not drive it from his mind; and when he retired to rest, two hours later, it was only to carry it to bed with him, and to lie awake hour after hour endeavouring to fit the pieces of the puzzle together.

Immediately after breakfast next morning he made his way to the gardens of the Tuileries. He had arranged on the previous evening to meet Katherine there, and on this occasion she was first at the rendezvous. As soon as she saw him she hastened along the path to meet him. Browne thought he had never seen her more becomingly dressed; her face had a bright colour, and her eyes sparkled like twin diamonds.

"You have good news for me, I can see," she said, when their first greetings were over and they were walking back along the path together. "What have you done?"

"We have advanced one step," he answered. "I have discovered the address of a man who will possibly be of immense assistance to us."

"That is good news indeed," she said. "And where does he live?"

"In Hong-kong," Browne replied, and as he said it he noticed a look of disappointment upon her face.

"Hong-kong?" she replied. "That is such a long way off. I had hoped he would prove to be in London."

"I don't think there is any one in London who would be of much use to us," said Browne, "while there are a good many there who could hinder us. That reminds me, dear, I have something rather important to say to you."

"What is it?" she inquired.

"I want to warn you to be very careful to whom you speak about the work we have in hand, and to be particularly careful of one person."

"Who is that?" she inquired; but there was a subtle intonation in her voice that told Browne that, while she could not, of course, know with any degree of certainty whom he meant, she at least could hazard a very good guess. They had seated themselves by this time on the same seat they had occupied a few days before; and a feeling, that was almost one of shame, came over him when he reflected that, in a certain measure, he owed his present happiness to the woman he was about to decry.

"You must not be offended at what I am going to say to you," he began, meanwhile prodding the turf before him with the point of his umbrella. "The fact of the matter is, I want to warn you to be very careful how much of our plans you reveal to Madame Bernstein. It is just possible you may think I am unjust in saying such a thing. I only hope I am."

"I really think you are," she said. "I don't know why you should have done so, but from the very first you have entertained a dislike for Madame. And yet, I think you must admit she has been a very good friend to both of us."

She seemed so hurt at what he had said that Browne hastened to set himself right with her.

"Believe me, I am not doubting her friendship," he said, "only her discretion. I should never forgive myself if I thought I had put any unjust thoughts against her in your mind. But the fact remains that, not only for your father's safety, but also for our own, it is most essential that no suspicion as to what we are about to do should get abroad."

"You surely do not think that Madame Bernstein would talk about the matter to strangers?" said Katherine, a little indignantly. "You have not been acquainted with her very long, but I think, at least, you ought to know her well enough to feel sure she would not do that."

Browne tried to reassure her on this point, but it was some time before she was mollified. To change the subject, he spoke of Herr Sauber and of the interest he was taking in the matter.

"I see it all," she said; "it was he who instilled these suspicions into your mind. It was unkind of him to do so; and not only that, but unjust. Like yourself, he has never been altogether friendly to her."

Browne found himself placed in somewhat of a dilemma. It was certainly true that the old man _had_ added fresh fuel to his suspicions; yet he had to remember that his dislike for the lady extended farther back, even as far as his first meeting with her at Merok. Therefore, while in justice to himself he had the right to incriminate the old man, he had no desire to confess that he had himself been a doubter from the first. Whether she could read what was passing in his mind or not I cannot say, but she was silent for a few minutes. Then, looking up at him with troubled eyes, she said, "Forgive me; I would not for all the world have you think that I have the least doubt of you. You have been so good to me that I should be worse than ungrateful if I were to do that. Will you make a bargain with me?"

"Before I promise I must know what that bargain is," he said, with a smile. "You have tried to make bargains with me before to which I could not agree."

"This is a very simple one," she said. "I want you to promise me, that you will never tell me anything of what you are going to do in this matter, that I cannot tell Madame Bernstein. Cannot you see, dear, what I mean when I ask that? She is my friend, and she has taken care of me for so many, many years, that I should be indeed a traitor to her, if, while she was so anxious to help me in the work I have undertaken, I were to keep from her even the smallest detail of our plans. If she is to be ignorant, let me be ignorant also." The simple, straightforward nature of the girl was apparent in what she said.

"And yet you wish to know everything of what I do?" he said.

"It is only natural that I should," she answered. "I also wish to be honest with Madame. You will give that promise, will you not, Jack?"

Browne considered for a moment. Embarrassing as the position had been a few moments before, it seemed even more so now. At last he made up his mind.

"Yes," he said very slowly; "since you wish it, I will give you that promise, and I believe I am doing right. You love me, Katherine?"

"Ah, you know that," she replied. "I love and trust you as I could never do another man."

"And you believe that I will do everything that a man can do to bring about the result you desire?"

"I do believe that," she said.

"Then let it all remain in my hands. Let me be responsible for the whole matter, and you shall see what the result will be. As I told you yesterday, dear, if any man can get