I AM INVITED TO SPEND MONEY
Any one who has travelled in the Valley of the Donau knows the Rempf
Hotel. It is an ancient hostelry, frequented quite as much in these
days as it was in olden times by people who are by way of knowing the
excellence of its cuisine and the character of its wines. Unless one
possesses this intelligence, either through hearsay or experience, he
will pass by the Rempf without so much as a glance at its rather
forbidding exterior and make for the modern hotel on the platz, thereby
missing one of the most interesting spots in this grim old town. Is
it to the fashionable Bellevue that the nobility and the elect wend
their way when they come to town? Not by any means. They affect the
Rempf, and there you may see them in fat, inglorious plenty smugly
execrating the plebeian rich of many lands who dismiss Rempf's with
a sniff, and enjoying to their heart's content a privacy which the
aforesaid rich would not consider at any price.
You may be quite sure that the rates are low at the historic Rempf,
and that they would be much lower if the nobility had anything to say
about it. One can get a very comfortable room, without bath, at the
Rempf for a dollar a day, provided he gets in ahead of the native
aristocracy. If he insists on having a room with bath he is guilty of
_lese majeste_ and is sent on his way.
But, bath or no bath, the food is the best in the entire valley and
the cellar without a rival.
I found Mr. Pless at the Rempf at nine o'clock. He was in his room
when I entered the quaint old place and approached the rotund manager
with considerable uncertainty in my manner. For whom was I to inquire?
Would he be known there as Pless?
The manager gave me a broad (I was about to say serviceable) smile and
put my mind at rest by blandly inquiring if I was the gentleman who
wished to see Mr. Pless. He directed me to the top floor of the hotel
and I mounted two flights of stairs at the heels of a porter who
exercised native thrift by carrying up a large trunk, thus saving time
and steps after a fashion, although it may be hard to see wherein he
really benefited when I say that after escorting me to a room on the
third floor and knocking at the door while balancing the trunk on his
back, he descended to the second and delivered his burden in triumph
to the lady who had been calling for it since six o'clock in the
evening. But even at that he displayed considerable cunning in not
forgetting what room the luggage belonged in, thereby saving himself
a trip all the way down to the office and back with the trunk.
Mr. Pless welcomed me with a great deal of warmth. He called me "dear
old fellow" and shook hands with me with more heartiness than I had
thought him capable of expressing. His dark, handsome face was aglow
with pleasure. He was quite boyish. A smallish old gentleman was with
him. My introduction to the stranger was a sort of afterthought, it
seemed to me. I was informed that he was one of the greatest lawyers
and advocates in Vienna and Mr. Pless's personal adviser in the
"unfortunate controversy."
I accepted a cigar.
"So you knew who I was all the time I was at Schloss Rothhoefen," said
Mr. Pless, smiling amiably. "I was trying to maintain my incognito so
that you might not be distressed, Mr. Smart, by having in your home
such a notorious character as I am supposed to be. I confess it was
rather shabby in me, but I hold your excellent friends responsible for
the trick."
"It is rather difficult to keep a secret with women about," said I
evasively.
"But never difficult to construct one," said Mr. Schymansky, winking
rather too broadly. I think Schymansky was the name.
"By the way," said I, "I have had no word from our mutual friends.
Have you seen them?"
Mr. Pless stiffened. His face grew perceptibly older.
"I regret to inform you, Mr. Smart, that our relations are not quite
as friendly as they once were. I have reason to suspect that Mr. Smith
has been working against me for the past two or three days, to such
an extent, I may say, that the Ambassador now declines to advise your
government to grant us certain privileges we had hoped to secure without
trouble. In short, we have just heard that he will not ask the United
States to consider anything in the shape of an extradition if the
Countess is apprehended in her own country. Up to yesterday we felt
confident that he would advise your State Department to turn the child
over to our representatives in case she is to be found there. There
has been underhand work going on, and Mr. Smith is at the bottom of
it. He wantonly insulted me the day we left Rothhoefen. I have
challenged him, but he--he committed the most diabolical breach of
etiquette by threatening to kick my friend the Baron out of his rooms
when he waited upon him yesterday morning."
With difficulty I restrained a desire to shout the single word: "Good!"
I was proud of Billy Smith. Controlling my exultation, I merely said:
"Perfectly diabolical! Perfectly!"
"I have no doubt, however, should our Minister make a formal demand
upon your Secretary of State, the cause of justice would be sustained.
It is a clear case of abduction, as you so forcibly declare in the
interviews, Mr. Smart. I cannot adequately express my gratification
for the stand you have taken. Will you be offended if I add that it
was rather unexpected? I had the feeling that you were against me,
that you did not like me."
I smiled deprecatingly. "As I seldom read the newspapers, I am not
quite sure that they have done justice to my real feelings in the
matter."
The lawyer sitting directly opposite to me, was watching my face
intently. "They quoted you rather freely, sir," said he. Instinctively
I felt that here was a wily person whom it would be difficult to
deceive. "The Count is to be congratulated upon having the good will
of so distinguished a gentleman as John Bellamy Smart. It will carry
great weight, believe me."
"Oh, you will find to your sorrow that I cut a very small figure in
national politics," said I. "Pray do not deceive yourselves."
"May I offer you a brandy and soda?" asked Mr. Pless, tapping sharply
on the table top with his seal ring. Instantly his French valet, still
bearing faint traces of the drubbing he had sustained at Britton's
hands, appeared in the bedchamber door.
"Thank you, no," I made haste to say. "I am on the water wagon."
"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Pless in perplexity.
"I am not drinking, Mr. Pless," I explained.
"Sorry," said he, and curtly dismissed the man. I had a notion that
the great lawyer looked a trifle disappointed. "I fancy you are
wondering why I sent for you, Mr. Smart."
"I am."
"Am I to assume that the newspapers were correct in stating that you
mean to support my cause with--I may say, to the full extent of your
powers?"
"It depends on circumstances, Mr. Pless."
"Circumstances?" He eyed me rather coldly, as if to say, "What right
have you to suggest circumstances?"
"Perhaps I should have said that it depends somewhat on what my powers
represent."
He crossed his slender legs comfortably and looked at me with a queer
little tilt of his left eyebrow, but with an unsmiling visage. He was
too cocksure of himself to grant me even so much as an ingratiating
smile. Was not I a glory-seeking American and he one of the glorious?
It would be doing me a favour to let me help him.
"I trust you will understand, Mr. Smart, that I do not ask a favour
of you, but rather put myself under a certain obligation for the time
being. You have become a land-owner in this country, and as such, you
should ally yourself with the representative people of our land. It
is not an easy matter for a foreigner to plant himself in our midst,
so to speak,--as a mushroom,--and expect to thrive on limited favours.
I can be of assistance to you. My position, as you doubtless know, is
rather a superior one in the capital. An unfortunate marriage has not
lessened the power that I possess as a birthright nor the esteem in
which I am held throughout Europe. The disgraceful methods employed
by my former wife in securing a divorce are well known to you, I take
it, and I am gratified to observe that you frown upon them. I suppose
you know the whole story?"
"I think I do," said I, quietly. I have never known such consummate
self-assurance as the fellow displayed.
"Then you are aware that her father has defaulted under the terms of
an ante-nuptial agreement. There is still due me, under the contract,
a round million of your exceedingly useful dollars."
"With the interest to be added," said the lawyer, thrumming on the
chair-arm with his fingers something after the fashion my mother always
employs in computing a simple sum in addition.
"Certainly," said Mr. Pless, sharply. "Mr. Smart understands that quite
clearly, Mr. Schymansky. It isn't necessary to enlighten him."
The lawyer cleared his throat. I knew him at once for a shyster. Mr.
Pless continued, addressing me.
"Of course he will have to pay this money before his daughter may even
hope to gain from me the right to share the custody of our little girl,
who loves me devotedly. When the debt is fully liquidated, I may consent
to an arrangement by which she shall have the child part of the time
at least."
"It seems to me she has the upper hand of you at present, however,"
I said, not without secret satisfaction. "She may be in America by
this time."
"I think not," said he. "Every steamship has-been watched for days,
and we are quite positive she has not sailed. There is the possibility,
however, that she may, have been taken by motor to some out-of-the-way
place where she will await the chance to slip away by means of a
specially chartered ship. It is this very thing that we are seeking
to prevent. I do not hesitate to admit that if she once gets the child
to New York, we may expect serious difficulty in obtaining our rights.
I humbly confess that I have not the means to fight her in a land where
her father's millions count for so much. I am a poor man. My estates
are heavily involved through litigation started by my forbears. You
understand my position?" He said it with a rather pathetic twist of
his lips.
"I understand that you received a million in cash at the time of the
wedding," said I. "What has become of all that?"
He shrugged his shoulders. "Can you expect me to indulge an extravagant
wife, who seeks to become a social queen, and still save anything out
of a paltry million?"
"Oh, I see. This is a new phase of the matter that hasn't been revealed
to me. It was she who spent the million?"
"After a fashion, yes," said he, without a spark of shame. "The chateau
was in rather a dilapidated condition, and she insisted on its
restoration. It was also necessary to spend a great deal of money in
the effort to secure for herself a certain position in society. My own
position was not sufficient for her. She wanted to improve upon it,
I might say. We entertained a great deal, and lavishly. She was
accustomed to gratifying every taste and whim that money could purchase.
Naturally, it was not long before we were hard pressed for funds. I
went to New York a year ago and put the matter clearly before her
father. He met me with another proposition which rather disgusted me.
I am a man who believes in fair dealing. If I have an obligation I
meet it. Isn't that true, Mr. Schymansky?"
"It is," said the lawyer.
"Her father revoked his original plan and suggested an alternative.
He proposed to put the million in trust for his granddaughter, our
Rosemary,--a name, sir, that I abominate and which was given to her
after my wife had sulked for weeks,--the interest to be paid to his
daughter until the child reached the age of twenty-one. Of course, I
could not accept such an arrangement. It--"
"Acting on my advice,--for I was present at the interview,--the Count
emphatically declined to entertain--"
"Never mind, Schymansky," broke in the Count petulantly. "What is the
use of going into all that?" He appeared to reflect for a moment. "Will
you be good enough to leave the room for awhile, Mr. Schymansky? I
think Mr. Smart and I can safely manage a friendly compact without
your assistance. Eh, Mr. Smart?"
I couldn't feel sorry for Schymansky. He hadn't the backbone of an
angleworm. If I were a lawyer and a client of mine were to speak to
me as Pless spoke to him, I firmly believe I should have had at least
a fair sprinkling of his blood upon my hands.
"I beg of you, Count, to observe caution and--"
"If you please, sir!" cut in the Count, with the austerity that makes
the continental nobleman what he is.
"If you require my services, you will find me in the--"
"Not in the hall, I trust," said his client in a most insulting way.
Schymansky left the room without so much as a glance at me. He struck
me as a man who knew his place better than any menial I've ever seen.
I particularly noticed that not even his ears were red.
"Rather rough way to handle a lawyer, it strikes me," said I. "Isn't
he any good?"
"He is as good as the best of them," said the Count, lighting his
fourth or fifth cigarette. "I have no patience with the way they muddle
matters by always talking law, law, law! If it were left to me, I
should dismiss the whole lot of them and depend entirely upon my
common-sense. If it hadn't been for the lawyers, I am convinced that
all this trouble could have been avoided, or at least amicably adjusted
out of court. But I am saddled with half a dozen of them, simply because
two or three banks and as many private interests are inclined to be
officious. They claim that my interests are theirs, but I doubt it,
by Jove, I do. They're a blood-sucking lot, these bankers. But I sha'n't
bore you with trivialities. Now here is the situation in a word. It
is quite impossible for me to prosecute the search for my child without
financial assistance from outside sources. My funds are practically
exhausted and the banks refuse to extend my credit. You have publicly
declared yourself to be my friend and well-wisher. I have asked you
to come here to-night, Mr. Smart, to put you to the real test, so to
I speak. I want one hundred thousand dollars for six months."
While I was prepared in a sense for the request, the brazenness with
which he put it up to me took my breath away. I am afraid that the
degage manner in which he paid compliment to my affluence was too much
for me. I blinked my eyes rapidly for a second or two and then allowed
them to settle into a stare of perplexity.
"Really, Mr. Pless," I mumbled in direct contrast to his sangfroid,
"you--you surprise me."
He laughed quietly, almost reassuringly, as he leaned forward in his
chair the better to study my face. "I hope you do not think that I
expect you to produce so much ready money to-night, Mr. Smart. Oh, no!
Any time within the next few days will be satisfactory. Take your time,
sir. I appreciate that it requires time to arrange for the--"
I held up my hand with a rather lofty air. "Was it one hundred and
fifty thousand that you mentioned, or--"
"That was the amount," said he, a sudden glitter in his eyes.
I studied the ceiling with a calculating squint, as if trying to
approximate my balance in bank. He watched me closely, almost
breathlessly. At last, unable to control his eagerness, he said:
"At the usual rate of interest, you understand."
"Certainly," I said, and resumed my calculations. He got the impression
that I was annoyed by the interruption.
"I beg your pardon," he said.
"What security can you give, Mr. Pless?" I demanded in a very
business-like way.
"Oh, you Americans!" he cried, his face beaming with premature relief.
"You will pin us down, I see. I do not wonder that you are so rich. I
shall give you my personal note, Mr. Smart, for the amount, secured
by a mortgage--a supplementary mortgage--on the Chateau Tarnowsy."
Tarnowsy! Now I remembered everything. Tarnowsy! The name struck my
memory like a blow. What a stupid dolt I had been! The whole world had
rung wedding bells for the marriage of the Count Maris Tarnowsy, scion
of one of the greatest Hungarian houses, and Aline, the
nineteen-year-old daughter of Gwendolen and Jasper Titus, of New York,
Newport, Tuxedo, Hot Springs, Palm Beach and so forth. Jasper Titus,
the banker and railway magnate, whose name as well as his hand was to
be seen in every great financial movement of the last two decades!
What a fool I was not to recall a marriage that had been not only on
the lips of every man, woman and child in the States but on mine in
particular, for I had bitterly execrated the deliverance into bondage
of this young girl of whose beauty and charm I had heard so much.
The whole spectacular travesty came back to me with a rush, as I sat
there in the presence of the only man who had ever been known to get
the better of Jasper Titus in a trade. I remembered with some vividness
my scornful attitude toward the newspapers of the metropolis, all of
which fairly sloshed over with the news of the great event weeks
beforehand and weeks afterward. I was not the only man who said harsh
things about Jasper Titus in those days. I was but one of the multitude.
I also recalled my scathing comments at the time of the divorce
proceedings. They were too caustic to be repeated here. It is only
necessary to state that the proceedings came near to putting two
friendly nations into very bad temper. Statesmen and diplomats were
drawn into the mess, and jingo congressmen on our side of the water
introduced sensational bills bearing specifically upon the international
marriage market. Newspaper humourists stood together as one man in
advocating a revision of the tariff upward on all foreign purchases
coming under the head of the sons of old masters. As I have said before
I did not follow the course of the nasty squabble very closely, and
was quite indifferent as to the result. I have a vague recollection
of some one telling me that a divorce had been granted, but that is
all. There was also something said about a child.
My pleasant little mystery had come to a sharp and rather depressing
end. The lovely countess about whom I had cast the veil of secrecy was
no other than the much-discussed Aline Titus and Mr. Pless the expensive
Count Tarnowsy. Cold, hard facts took the place of indulgent fancies.
The dream was over. I was sorry to have it end. A joyous enthusiasm
had attended me while I worked in the dark; now a dreary reality stared
me in the face. The sparkle was gone. Is there anything so sad as a
glass of champagne when it has gone flat and lifeless?
My cogitations were brief. The Count after waiting for a minute or two
to let me grasp the full importance of the sacrifice he was ready to
make in order to secure me against personal loss, blandly announced
that there were but two mortgages on the chateau, whereas nearly every
other place of the kind within his knowledge had thrice as many.
"You wish me to accept a third mortgage on the place?" I inquired,
pursing my lips.
"The Chateau is worth at least a million," he said earnestly. "But why
worry about that, Mr. Smart? My personal note is all that is necessary.
The matter of a mortgage is merely incidental. I believe it is
considered business-like by you Americans, so I stand quite ready to
abide by your habits. I shall soon be in possession of a million in
any event, so you are quite safe in advancing me any amount up to--"
"Just a moment, Count," I interrupted, leaning forward in my chair.
"May I inquire where and from whom you received the impression that
I am a rich man?"
He laughed easily. "One who indulges a whim, Mr. Smart, is always rich.
Schloss Rothhoefen condemns you to the purgatory of Croesus."
"Croesus would be a poor man in these days," said I. "If he lived in
New York he would be wondering where his next meal was to come from.
You have made a very poor guess as to my wealth. I am not a rich man."
He eyed me coldly. "Have you suddenly discovered the fact, sir?"
"What do you mean?"
"I suggest a way in which you can be of assistance to me, and you
hesitate. How am I to take it, sir?"
His infernal air of superiority aggravated me. "You may take it just
as you please, Mr. Pless."
"I beg you to remember that I am Count Tarnowsy. Mr.--"
I arose. "The gist of the matter is this: you want to borrow one
hundred and fifty thousand dollars of me. That is--"
He hastened to correct me. "I do not call it borrowing when one gives
ample security for the amount involved."
"What is your idea of borrowing, may I ask?"
"Borrowing is the same thing as asking a favour according to our
conception of the transaction. I am not asking a favour of you, sir.
Far from it. I am offering you an opportunity to put a certain amount
of money out at a high rate of interest."
"Well, then, we'll look at it in that light. I am not in a position
to invest so much money at this time. To be perfectly frank with you,
I haven't the money lying loose."
"Suppose that I were to say that any day inside the next three or four
weeks would be satisfactory to me," said he, as if he were granting
me a favour. "Please be seated, Mr. Smart." He glanced at his watch.
"I have ordered a light supper to be sent up at ten o'clock. We can--"
"Thank you. I fear it is impossible for me to remain."
"I shall be disappointed. However, another time if not to-night, I
trust. And now to come to the point. May I depend upon you to help me
at this trying period? A few thousand will be sufficient for present
needs, and the balance may go over a few weeks without seriously
inconveniencing me. If we can come to some sort of an understanding
to-night, my attorney will be happy to meet you to-morrow at any time
and place you may suggest."
I actually was staggered. Upon my word it was almost as if he were
dunning me and magnanimously consenting to give me an extension of
time if I could see my way clear to let him have something on account.
My choler was rising.
"I may as well tell you first as last, Count Tarnowsy, that I cannot
let you have the money. It is quite impossible. In the first place,
I haven't the amount to spare; in the second--"
"Enough, sir," he broke in angrily. "I have committed the common error
of regarding one of you as a gentleman. Damn me, if I shall ever do
so again. There isn't one in the whole of the United States. Will you
be good enough, Mr. Smart, to overlook my mistake? I thank you for
taking the trouble to rush into print in my defence. If you have gained
anything by it, I do not begrudge you the satisfaction you must feel
in being heralded as the host of Count Tarnowsy and his friend. You
obtained the privilege very cheaply."
"You will do well, sir, to keep a civil tongue in your head," said I,
paling with fury.
"I have nothing more to say to you, Mr. Smart," said he contemptuously.
"Good night. Francois! Conduct Mr. Smart to the corridor."
Francois--or "Franko" as Britton, whose French is very lame, had called
him--preceded me to the door. In all my experience, nothing has
surprised me so much as my ability to leave the room without first
kicking Francois' master, or at least telling him what I thought of
him. Strangely enough I did not recover my sense of speech until I was
well out into the corridor. Then I deliberately took a gold coin out
of my pocket and pressed it into the valet's hand.
"Kindly give that to your master with my compliments," said I, in a
voice that was intended to reach Tarnowsy's ear.
"Bon soir, m'sieu," said Francois, with an amiable grin. He watched
me descend the stairs and then softly closed the door.
In the office I came upon Mr. Schymansky.
"I trust everything is satisfactorily arranged, Mr.--" he began smiling
and rubbing his hands. He was so utterly unprepared for the severity
of the interruption that the smile was still in process of congealing
as I stepped out into the narrow, illy-lighted street.
Max and Rudolph were waiting at the wharf for me. Their excellent arms
and broad backs soon drove the light boat across the river. But once
during the five or ten minutes of passage did I utter a word, and that
word, while wholly involuntary and by no means addressed to my oarsmen,
had the remarkable effect of making them row like fury for the remainder
of the distance.
Mr. Poopendyke was waiting for me in the courtyard. He was carrying
a lantern, which he held rather close to my face as if looking for
something he dreaded to see.
"What the devil is the matter with you?" I demanded irascibly. "What's
up? What are you doing out here with a lantern?"
"I was rather anxious," he said, a note of relief in his voice. "I
feared that something unexpected might have befallen you. Five minutes
ago the--Mr. Pless called up on the telephone and left a message for
you. It rather upset me, sir."
"He did, eh? Well, what did he say?"
"He merely commanded me to give you his compliments and to tell you
to go to the devil. I told him that you would doubtless be at home a
little later on and it would sound very much better if it came from
him instead of from me. Whereupon he told me to accompany you, giving
rather explicit directions. He appeared to be in a tremendous rage."
I laughed heartily. "I must have got under his confounded skin after
all."
"I was a little worried, so I came out with the lantern. One never can
tell. Did you come to blows?"
"Blows? What puts that idea into your head?"
"The Countess was listening on the extension wire while he was speaking
to me. She thought it was you calling up and was eager to hear what
had happened. It was she who put it into my head. She said you must
have given his nose a jolly good pulling or something of the sort. I
am extremely sorry, but she heard every word he said, even to the
mildest damn."
"It must have had a very familiar sound to her," I said sourly.
"So she informed me."
"Oh, you've seen her, eh?"
"She came down to the secret door a few minutes ago and urged me to
set out to meet you. She says she can hardly wait for the news. I was
to send you upstairs at once."
Confound him, he took that very instant to hold the lantern up to my
face again, and caught me grinning like a Cheshire cat.
I hurried to my room and brushed myself up a bit. On my bureau, in a
glass of water, there was a white boutonniere, rather clumsily
constructed and all ready to be pinned in the lapel of my coat. I
confess to a blush. I wish Britton would not be so infernally arduous
in his efforts to please me.
The Countess gave a little sigh of relief when I dashed in upon her
a few minutes later. She had it all out of me before I had quite
recovered my breath after the climb upstairs.
"And so it was I who spent all the money," she mused, with a far-away
look in her eyes.
"In trying to be a countess," said I boldly.
She smiled. "Are you hungry?"
"Delightfully," said I.
We sat down at the table. "Now tell me everything all over again," she
said.