BARON VON GRATZEN
I was very curious to have a look at Berlin in war time; but as I am
not writing a chronicle of the struggle, my impressions need not be
laboured, except as they touched me personally.
The struggle had been going on for about eighteen months when I reached
the capital, and, except in one respect, matters were pretty much as I
had known them. There were more soldiers about, perhaps; there seemed
to be as much bustling activity as usual, and certainly there was
universal confidence that the result would be a glorious victory.
The one genuine surprise I had was when I came upon an unwontedly
demonstrative crowd shouting that they were short of food. They were
chiefly women, and a boisterous, vociferating lot they were. It was not
so much the crowd that impressed me, however, or the row they kicked
up, as the fact that the police didn't interfere. In my experience, a
crowd might look for a very short shrift at the hands of the police of
Berlin.
I referred to the matter when I was at the tailor's--where, by the by,
I succeeded in getting a very passably fitting suit and other things I
needed--and he explained the reason. There was no real scarcity of
food, he declared, but much grumbling at the distribution; and the
police had had orders not to resort to drastic measures.
"It will have to be stopped, however, or the trouble will grow. There
has already been some window smashing. Imagine it, window smashing in
our beautiful, well-organized city!" he cried, as if it were akin to
impiety and sacrilege.
"Very shocking," I agreed gravely.
"If it is not put down with an iron hand, it will not be safe for a
well-dressed person to be in the streets. My own wife and daughter,
only yesterday, were all but mauled in the Untergasse. But the English
will pay for it!"
I cut short that subject by speaking about the business in hand; it
wasn't prudent to talk about the war, and I took care not to give him
an opportunity of returning to it before I left the shop.
On my way back to the von Reblings' house in the Karlstrasse, I could
think of nothing except the news I was to hear and what I should do if
the scheme I had suggested was turned down. I could see nothing for it
but to make a bolt almost at once, take Nessa with me, and trust to our
wits and luck to get away.
Not a hopeful job at the best, and at the worst involving no end of
risk and danger for us both. I knew my Germany too well not to be
painfully conscious of all that; and the knowledge made me profoundly
uncomfortable. But I've a sanguine streak in me and am generally lucky,
so I put off the consideration of the disagreeables until they had to
be faced in earnest.
I need not have worried, however, for I found everything running as
sweetly as a well-oiled engine when I reached the house. I knew it
instantly by the manner in which Feldmann greeted me.
Instead of the previous sullen angry looks, he was all smiles, gripped
my hand cordially, nearly fell on my neck, and I rather dreaded that he
would wind up by kissing me. Rosa and Nessa were in much the same
hilarious mood, and might have been arranging the details of a wedding
rather than a little conspiracy against the Government.
They had it all cut and dried, and my crude plan was hailed as if it
had been a piece of the most wonderful strategy in the world.
"Oscar will help us all he can," said Rosa, blushing a bit as she used
his christian name; "and he can get the passports and everything
without any trouble. He has his already, and suggests that we shall
have one for Hans as well. I've seen Hans, and he has consented to go
if he can get leave. He doesn't think he can, but agrees we had better
get one in case. That will be for you."
"Won't there be some sort of description of him on it?" I asked.
"I can arrange that," declared Feldmann. "Luckily it is in my
department. It will do for you, and, of course, he'll never see it."
"I shall take charge of everything," said Rosa. "And Oscar says he can
get everything through in three days at the latest, perhaps in two."
There was a great deal of Oscar would do this and Oscar could do that,
in it all; but everything seemed as good as the best, and I was soon in
as high spirits as the others. It was settled that we should travel by
the morning express, which would get us across the frontier in time for
me to let Rosa have my confession the following day.
"Oscar" wrung my hand again at parting, as if I was his dearest friend;
declared he was not among the English haters; that he thought I had
acted splendidly in risking so much to rescue Nessa; and that he hoped
we should be great friends after this abominable war.
My next move was to prepare for leaving the house the next day, and at
supper I announced my determination. The Countess was very much against
it, but afterwards I went with her alone into the drawing-room and gave
her my "official" reasons.
"I want you to open your cabinet drawer, aunt; but before you do it,
I'll tell you that you will find some one has been to it----"
"Nessa?" she broke in excitedly.
"I'll tell you in a moment. You are quite right that there is some one
in the house who is playing the spy, and, of course, you'll understand
that if I am to join the Secret Service, it is a sheer impossibility
for me to remain here with any one like that about the house."
"They shall leave it at once, Johann."
"We'll discuss that directly. You will find that the letters you so
neatly put away here are just flung in anyhow in order to suggest that
whoever did it was surprised and had to act in a hurry."
She unlocked the drawer then with shaky fingers and there lay the
letters as I had told her. "Nessa shall leave the house to-morrow,
Johann," she cried immediately.
"But it wasn't Miss Caldicott at all, aunt; it was Gretchen;" and I
described what I had witnessed and went on to advise her not to take
any open notice of the matter at all. "You know now who it is and can
be on your guard, keeping such papers as are of no account here and
putting others in a safer place."
"But to have such a person in the house, Johann!"
"She can't do any harm now; and you must remember this. You don't know
who has put her here nor the reason. It might do much more harm than
good if you were to make any disturbance about it. These are curious
times, and the fact that you have an English girl in the house may be
the reason. By sending Gretchen about her business you may only have
some one else put here, or one of the other servants bribed or forced
to take her place;" and I hammered away at this until I persuaded her
to adopt the suggestion.
I had a strong object in taking this line. I was sure that Gretchen was
von Erstein's creature, and that if she remained in the house, we might
find her very useful in putting him off the scent by letting her find
out some false facts in case of trouble.
During the night I thought carefully over our conspiracy scheme. It
looked good; very good indeed; perhaps too good, and in the end I
decided to prepare for a possible hitch in case the unexpected happened.
I couldn't see one anywhere; but you can never be prepared for an air
pocket, as I knew well enough; so I resolved not to be caught unawares.
If anything went wrong on the journey, it was on the cards that we
might be able to dodge the trouble and get away, if we were provided
with good disguises. I worked on that idea and thought of several other
items which would probably come in handy.
I adopted the notion of turning myself into an aero mechanic and
changing Nessa into my young assistant. There wasn't much about any
sort of flying machine I didn't know--except Zeppelins, of course; so I
could keep my end up all right, and could easily coach "my assistant"
well enough to pass muster.
We should have to dodge the beastly German system which makes every
workman carry his record card about with him; but if we couldn't get
things of the sort, we must put up a bluff--have lost them or
something--and trust to my skill with the tools to see us through.
I was off pretty early in the morning on the hunt for rooms, and almost
immediately found a place which fitted my needs like a glove. It was a
little furnished flat in the Falkenplatz; just a couple of rooms with a
bathroom at the rear, the window of which opened on to the fire escape;
an emergency exit which might be invaluable in case of need.
But there was a hitch when I said I would take the place. I was asked
for the inevitable papers to satisfy the police; and of course I had
none. My explanation was listened to politely, but without effect; so I
said I would obtain them, paid a deposit, and went off to buy some of
the little items I had thought of during the night.
Then I had a bit of a jar. I was coming out of a shop just as a tall,
grey-haired, soldierly man in uniform was passing who glanced casually
at me. The glance was followed by a start of surprise, his look became
intent and interested, and he stopped as if to speak. Naturally I took
no notice and walked on; but a few seconds afterwards he passed me,
stopped a few yards ahead to look in a shop window, and as I overtook
him, he turned to give me a very keen, penetrating stare.
Of course there were heaps of people in Germany who had known me well,
and I had discounted the risk of running against some of them. But I
could not place him, and I was not a little relieved when he appeared
uncertain and went off without addressing me.
It was a disturbing incident and brought home to me the advisability of
keeping indoors as much as possible during the days I was to remain in
Berlin. The matter didn't end there, however.
Remembering Hoffnung's hint about keeping my appointment with Baron von
Gratzen punctually, I turned up a little before time, and exactly on
the stroke of eleven was shown into his office. My astonishment may be
guessed when he proved to be the stranger I had just met.
I think that his amazement was even greater than mine, as he stared at
the slip on which his subordinate had written my name and from it to me.
"Then you are Herr Lassen?" he asked in frowning perplexity.
I bowed and held out the letter he had sent me. "You sent for me, sir."
He waved me to a chair and sat back lost in thought for so long that I
began to wonder what the dickens was coming.
"You came from England, didn't you?"
"I believe so, sir."
"And you're the man without a memory, eh? Very extraordinary; very
extraordinary indeed. Most remarkable case. And why have you come to
Berlin?"
"Herr Hoffnung brought me. I understood he had instructions to do so."
"Tell me about your experiences there."
I looked as blank as a wall and shook my head.
"Surely you can remember something. Let me jog your memory. I know the
country well, you understand. Were you in London?" After another blank
look from me, he took out a paper, glanced over it, and questioned me
about a number of places and matters contained in it; to all of which I
replied with either a vacant look or shake of the head.
The examination lasted for some considerable time, and presently he
pushed a sheet of paper and a pen to me, telling me to write my name. I
had expected some such test and took hold of the pen clumsily and, with
infinite apparent trouble, wrote the name "Johann Lassen" in big
sprawling printed capitals.
He watched me like a lynx at the job, took the paper, scanned it
closely, and asked: "That the best you can do?"
"I can read the big letters of type, sir," I replied, and I fancied
that he had to restrain a smile.
Next he folded down the paper he had been reading from and showed me a
sentence in it. A very non-committal sentence I noticed. "You recognize
the writing?" More head wagging from me. "You should, you know; it's
your own handwriting;" and he put the document away, and sat thinking
again.
I'd have given something to be able to read his thoughts at that
moment, especially when he roused himself sufficiently to favour me
with some keen stares. I couldn't resist the unpleasant thought that he
suspected something; but he gave no overt sign of suspicion, and his
manner was less official than friendly. After a time something in his
mind brought a heavy frown to his face.
"Let me get the matter quite clear. You were blown up in the
_Burgen_, found yourself in a hospital in Rotterdam with no papers
of identification on you except a card, you remembered nothing at all
of what had occurred, and came to Berlin with Herr Hoffnung. You know
that there was only one other male passenger on the steamer, a Mr.
Lamb, about whom we have some reason to be curious. Now, are you sure
you are not that man?"
"I don't know, sir. I am not sure about anything except what has
occurred since I was at Rotterdam."
"Well, when you arrived here the Countess von Rebling recognized you as
her nephew.--Were you at Goettingen?" he asked so suddenly that I only
escaped the trap by the skin of my teeth.
"I believe so, sir."
"Then, of course, there will be plenty of people there to identify you."
"Naturally, sir," I managed to reply, although a chill of dismay made
my spine tingle at the meaning smile accompanying the words.
"We know, of course, that no one of the name of Lamb was ever there,"
he said and paused again, as if to give me time to absorb all that this
might be intended to suggest.
"Do you speak English?" was the next question, put with a perfect
accent in my own language.
"Sure," I replied, with what I meant to be a very correct twang. But it
didn't appear to impress him as much as I could have wished; and after
regarding me curiously for a moment or two he rose, got a volume of
Mark Twain's _Innocents Abroad_, and laid it open before me,
asking me to try and read a passage.
I looked at it earnestly and gave it up as hopeless.
But he was too many for me. "Well, I'll read it to you and get you to
repeat it after me." And he did read it and I had to repeat the words
in such American as I could manage. "Thank you," he said as he closed
the book and put it away again. And then another long pause followed.
I recalled Hoffnung's disturbing words--that the Baron would have
something to tell me I might not like. He had certainly made that good,
and I was beginning to be abominably troubled about the run of things
when he started in again.
"And so you wish to join our Secret Service?" he asked with the abrupt
shift of subject which worried me.
"Herr Hoffnung told me so, but----" and I smiled vacantly.
"Do you imagine that a man without a memory would be of much use to us?"
"I'm afraid not, sir; but to tell the truth, I have no sort of desire
to do it. The doctors at Rotterdam told me I should recover my memory
in time, and if I could have a good rest and just be absolutely quiet
for a time it is all I wish."
He nodded, not unkindly, and then suddenly bent on me the keenest look
I have ever seen in any man's eyes and asked: "Are you sure you mean
that?"
"Absolutely, sir, on my honour," meeting his eyes steadily.
He held them for a moment with the same intentness, as if he would read
my inmost thoughts, and then nodded and leant back in his seat. "I can
understand that and believe you. I'm glad to hear it."
What he meant I couldn't tell, but I felt relieved because I appeared
to have risen in his opinion, for some reason it was impossible even to
guess. Some minutes passed before any more was said, the longest
silence yet. That he had evidently been running over all that had
passed his next move showed.
"I am intensely interested in your case, and quite as intensely puzzled
about it all. Personally, I take your view--that the best thing would
be to give you time to see if the memory comes back. But that's rather
a point for the doctors than for me. You have done very valuable work
for us in England and, other things turning out all right, there is no
doubt you could do more of the same sort. But these are times when we
can't do all we might; matters are too strenuous. Except for this loss
of memory, you seem to be absolutely normal--doctors again; and you'd
better see them at once;" and he rang his table bell. "If you pass them
and, from your appearance I have no doubt you will, you will, of
course, go to the Front."
I caught my breath at this, but he did not see my consternation, as he
had risen while speaking and went out, leaving his secretary, named von
Welten, to remain with me.