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

myself once a week; that it was the merest formality; and that probably I should never have to do it all, as he was pretty sure I should be sent home before the first day for reporting arrived."

"And was that all?"

"Rather not; only the preface; and, mind you, he hadn't said a word about you up to then, not even mentioned your name."

"What came next then?"

"He asked me to talk about England and the English, saying that he had been there a lot and knew heaps of people; and then you came into the picture."

"Did he ask about me, do you mean?"

"Are you telling the story or am I?" and she rallied me with a smile which was good to see. She was much more like the Nessa of old times, was in good spirits, and had thrown off much of the worrying load of depression. "I don't know whether you've done it, but to-day somehow I can't take things seriously."

"That's as it should be; but how did he bring me in?"

"Well, he was either acting better than I could or he was perfectly sincere. What he did was to talk about people, mentioning a lot of names and asking me whether I knew any of them, and in the most casual tone in the world out popped yours."

"Lassen?"

"Of course not; your own, Lancaster."

"Phew! That's a caution, if you like. What did you say?"

She laughed softly. "I think I was one too many for him then. You see he'd prepared the ground in a way by mentioning people I'd never heard of, so I just shook my head, then pretended to think and said I wasn't sure that my mother had not known some Lancasters. He'd been so decent, that that seemed easier than just lying outright. He was eager for more and asked me to try and remember, as he had a very particular reason for being interested in them; but that looked dangerous, so I thought it best not to remember anything else Lancastrian."

"Well?"

"Don't rush me. I could tell that I was over that bridge all right; but it was only the first. After a bit he brought up Jimmy Lamb's name, and I laughed and clapped my hands and said he was my brother-in-law. Why, what's the matter? Was that wrong?" she cried, noticing my frown.

"Perhaps not, but it was Jimmy's passport I was to use, and he's supposed to have gone down in the Burgen. It won't matter, probably."

"I'd forgotten all about that. No wonder he was interested and poured a volley of questions into me about him. But that was all safe enough, because I haven't heard a word about Jimmy since I've been here, and naturally couldn't tell him anything. One of them was whether Jimmy knew the Lancasters, by the by. And I can see why he asked it."

Unpleasantly ominous, this; since it was clear he was trying to establish the connection between me and Jimmy. "And after that?"

"Butter wouldn't have melted in his mouth. He asked me about you as Lassen; safe ground again: and wound up by thanking me for having answered his questions so frankly; declared he was quite satisfied, and then, as I told you, said he would use his influence to see that I went home."

"Anything about our going together?"

"Yes. He said it might not be well for me to travel alone and asked if there was any one who could see me to the frontier."

"You didn't suggest me?" I broke in.

"Really, Herr Lassen! Do you think every English girl is a fool? I suggested Herr Feldmann. He shook his head, murmuring something about his being unable to get away; and then came the only thing that really scared me. 'Of course you could go in the care of some of our people, but it would be better not, perhaps; so difficult to spare our folks just now;'—all that in a sort of meditative tone, and then with a change which in some way altered his very features, he fixed me with a look which seemed to pierce like red-hot gimlets into my very brain and read every thought in it, and asked me to suggest some one else. I positively shrivelled up inside, if you know what I mean; felt like a fish on the end of a fork thrust suddenly into a blazing fire. I don't know what I said or did. It must have mesmerized me, I suppose. I think I shook my head and stammered out that I didn't know of any one else; but I can't be certain. All I clearly remember is a feeling of intense relief when his eyes left mine, and I heard him say something about seeing to the matter. I never felt anything like it in my life before; and if I gave you away, it was then."

"I've had a look from him like that and can understand how it made you feel. That's why I can't place the man. Hullo, look! There come his wife and daughter with the Countess. We'd better join up. Won't do to let them think we're too thick;" and we quickened up to Rosa as the others reached the spot, and all stood chatting. Presently Lottchen drew me aside from the rest, declaring that she never saw anything of me now, and after a moment, Nita, attracted by the child's loveliness, joined us.

I said something or other which made them both laugh, and just as the others turned round and looked at us, I had the surprise of my life.

A good-looking woman was passing, holding a tot of a kid by the hand; she glanced at me, stopped dead with a look of profound astonishment, paused to stare, hands clenched and pressed to her bosom, eyes wide, mouth agape, and every feature set as rigid as stone.

"Johann!" little more than a whisper at first, and then loudly, "Johann!" and without more ado she rushed up, flung her arms round my neck, and burst into a flood of passionate sobs mingled with equally passionate terms of affection.

CHAPTER XIV ANNA HILDEN

"Johann! Johann! Oh, my dearest! Oh, thank God I have found you at last! Oh, my long lost darling!" raved the woman ecstatically, while her child ran up and clung to my coat, calling, "Papa! Papa!"

A pleasant situation considering the circumstances and the fact that a number of other people, attracted by the woman's hysterics, began to cluster round us.

Nita and Lottchen scurried back to our group; the two elder women were looking both scandalized and disgusted; and Nessa bent over Lottchen, scarcely able to conceal her laughter. Fortunately Rosa kept her head.

Giving me first a look of scornful indignation, she said something to her mother and the whole group moved away.

The woman's outburst of hysterical passion had quieted by then, and she just let her head rest upon my shoulder, feasting her rather fine eyes upon my face with languishing rapture.

My first thought was that she was a lunatic; so I tried to unclasp her embrace. Gently at first, but then with considerable strength, for she resisted stoutly. Next I observed that for all her hysterical sobbing, her eyes were scarcely moist; a fact which put quite a different interpretation on the affair.

"We don't want a scene here," I said.

This had comparatively little effect and she tried to wrest her hands away and begin the embracing over again.

"If we have any more of this, I shall call the police," I said sharply. This did the business. After a moment she grew less demonstrative, making a great to-do in the effort to check her agitation, and allowed me to lead her away.

While we were shaking off the crowd there was time to study her and try to get a glimmer of the meaning of it all. Now that the hysterics were over, she appeared to be less emotional than perplexed. She kept her eyes on the ground, evidently thinking intently and taking no notice of the child at all, who was as unconcerned as if she didn't belong to the picture, except that once or twice she glanced up at the woman, as if wondering what to do and looking for a lead.

A thought of the truth occurred to me and made me look more searchingly than ever at the woman's side face. Two things struck me at once. She was older than I had believed; a little make-up cunningly concealed some wrinkles, and a touch of rouge on the cheek helped to account for my mistake about her age; and closer inspection revealed some lines of grease paint close to her hair.

I put her down then as a second-rate actress, and her over-acting in the embracing scene suggested corroboration. How the ordinary woman would behave on discovering her long lost lover or husband may be a question; but she certainly wouldn't shed tears which were carefully tearless out of the fear that they would spoil her make-up. It was obviously a plant.

That wasn't altogether a comforting reflection, however. My loss of memory made it impossible to expose her, for the simple reason that any story she might choose to tell could not be contradicted.

"Now I should like to know what all this means," I began when we were free from inquisitive lookers-on.

"Do you pretend you don't recognize me?" she asked, turning her big blue eyes on me with a pathetic wistfulness.

"Do you pretend that I ought to?"

"Why did you desert me? Oh, how could you, Johann?" she wailed.

"I don't even know what you mean."

"Oh, but you must; you must. You loved me so; at least you swore you did, over and over again," she cried. "Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten me. I could bear anything but that."

This suggested von Gratzen. It was just the sort of scheme which would appeal to such a wily old beggar to trap me into admission. "Who are you?" I asked.

She clapped her hands to her face and looked like starting hysterics again. "Oh, you must know. You must. You can't have forgotten me! You can't!"

"Perhaps your name will help me."

With a very overdone theatrical gesture she stopped and stared at me and looked distracted.

"I'm—Anna. Your Anna."

"My Anna? I didn't know I had one;" and she clapped her hands to her face again, but not quickly enough to hide her expression, which looked uncommonly like a smile. "And the surname?"

"Hilden, of course," she said after a pause without looking up.

This gave the clue. It was not von Gratzen's scheme but von Erstein's. I remembered our interview; his persistent attempt to test my memory; his story of Anna Hilden; his genuine anger when I had not recollected her; and then the sudden change of manner which had been so puzzling.

He had put her up to play the part of the ruined maiden and had probably planned the melodramatic scene which had just taken place, knowing that, unless at the same time I gave myself away, I could not expose her. It was cunning, and put me in a beast of a mess. There seemed only one course—to prevail on the woman to admit the truth.

"You can see for yourself that this has taken me entirely by surprise," I said after a pause. "I had a very tough time of it a few weeks ago; the ship I was in was blown up and the explosion caused me to lose my memory entirely. What you have said may be absolutely true; although to me it seems impossible. What do you wish me to do?"

"I want my rights," she replied, after a slight pause.

"Well, we can scarcely discuss things here. Where do you live?"

"In the Kammerplatz. 268g. No, I mean 286g;" making the correction in some confusion.

Curious that she could not remember the right number; looked as if she had only just gone there for this special business. "Shall we go there?" I asked.

She found the question unnecessarily embarrassing, hesitated and glanced at the child with