ANNA HILDEN AGAIN
It is difficult to describe my feelings when I left von Gratzen, but I
think my chief thought was a bitter regret that I hadn't taken the
tickets and chanced things, mingled with a disquieting belief that I
was muddling matters hopelessly.
Neither regret nor self-cursing were of the slightest help, however;
and after a few minutes of impotent perplexity, I realized that
extremely obvious fact.
Something had to be done; and the question was--what?
It looked as if von Gratzen would have let me have those tickets if I
hadn't been ass enough to tell him about Anna and play the fool about
being eager to have that affair cleared up first. He had not appeared
to attach sufficient importance to the poison charge to refuse them on
that account.
This cleared the ground a little, therefore. Could the obstacle be
removed in time to allow of my using them that night? Could I get the
confession from Anna herself, this meant? It was worth trying.
She had fixed the following day for me to see her; but that wasn't a
good enough reason for my not seeing her at once. My natural eagerness
to have the thing settled without delay would readily account for my
disregarding her wish, and whether it did or not didn't matter two
straws. So I set off on the errand at once.
Persuasion was the first card to play, and if that failed, a threat of
the police; but by one means or another I must have the confession to
take to von Gratzen that afternoon. Everything now turned on getting it
into his hands early enough for Nessa and me to catch the Dutch mail
which left about eight that night.
She had her hat on when I arrived, and resented the visit. "I said you
were not to come until to-morrow," she said. "I can't see you now, as
I'm just going out."
"I could not wait till to-morrow. I can't bear suspense."
"I've nothing to say to you, so it's no use your coming in."
"But I'm in already, Anna, and I must speak to you." She tried to avoid
me and leave the place, but I shut the door and stood with my back to
it.
"Very well. Go into the sitting-room and I'll listen."
"I'll follow you," I replied drily; and with a laugh and a shrug she
led the way to her room.
"You seem almost as eager to marry me now as you were before to get out
of it," she scoffed.
It was an unpromising start, for she was in a very different mood from
that of the previous day. "If you think a moment of all that this must
mean to me, of my desperate anxiety to know the truth about the past
and to see what lies ahead, you'll understand it all, Anna;" and I went
on for a few moments in that style endeavouring to re-establish the
former relations and work on her emotions.
"I haven't had enough time to think about it," she replied. "Of course
it takes a lot of thinking about."
"Does that mean you are not sure I am the man who wronged you?"
"Why should it, pray?"
"Well, you said that you had been mistaken about the child."
"I may have said that for a purpose. You got the soft side of me
yesterday, and---- But I tell you I haven't made up my mind."
"You haven't altered your opinion about my being an honourable man and
wishing to do the right thing, I hope?" and I did my best to draw a
vivid picture of my state of mind and appeal to her good nature.
This appeared to have a softening effect; but not enough for the
purpose. "Why does one day make such a difference?"
"Every minute makes a difference, Anna. I am on the rack and it's
positive torture to prolong this suspense."
"I'm sorry. I am really; but I can't make up my mind. If you could do
without me all these years, another day can't matter so much. Not that
I can see."
"If you had lost your memory, you'd understand."
"But that was only a week or two ago. What of all the other time, the
years and years you've left me to fend for myself?"
"I can't account for that," I said, as if distracted.
"You hadn't lost your memory all that time, however."
"The shock of the explosion has utterly changed me in every way."
"It was about time, I should think, judging by all I've heard and the
way you treated me. I don't deny you're a white man enough now; but
what if you got your memory back? It might change you into something
very different. I have to think of that, you know. You might be mad
enough to--to do anything; perhaps even murder me. You're not surprised
it makes me think, are you? I don't wish to be made into an honest
woman only to be murdered."
This was altogether so different from her previous attitude, that it
was clear some one had been coaching her; and of course it could only
be von Erstein. "You need not fear that, Anna."
"Why not? How do you know what you'd be mad enough to do if you got
your memory back and found you'd tied yourself to me?"
"There's a very simple way out of that. Even if you wish me to marry
you, we need not live together. I should give you an allowance and you
could go your way and I mine, if you preferred it."
For some reason which beat me this seemed to appeal strongly to her.
She sat thinking, and there was something of her previous day's emotion
in her look as she asked: "Do you mean that?"
"You little know me if you doubt it, Anna."
She got up impulsively to stare out of the window as she had done
before, and after a long pause she turned. "Look here, come to-morrow."
I looked intently at her and read something in her face that gave me
fresh hope. "Why not to-day? You have made up your mind, I can see
that; so why not tell me now?"
She shook her head. "Not to-day. To-morrow."
"Why?"
"I can't tell you why. Don't ask me."
"But I do ask you. I beg you as earnestly as I can."
Another shake of the head; and she would not budge, so that it became
necessary to try a turn of the screw.
"Your reason has to do with some one else?"
"What do you mean?" she flashed in surprise and some alarm.
"I had a visit yesterday from a man who called himself Rudolff."
"Well? What's that got to do with it?"
"With two companions he tried to murder me."
She caught her breath. "Is that true?"
"As you see, the attempt failed and the man himself got the blow
intended for me. I took him to my rooms afterwards and--well, here's
his confession."
Her interest was keen enough to quicken her breathing as I took out the
paper; and her fright deepened as I read it, and she began to tremble
violently. "As you hear, he was the man who pointed me out to you
yesterday in the Thiergarten."
For a few moments she was too overcome to speak. "What--do you--think
it all means?" she stammered brokenly.
"Do you know Count von Erstein?"
Her hand went to her throat as she tried to reply, making a swallowing,
half-choking motion. "You don't believe--that I had anything--to do
with all that?"
"Oh no, Anna. I am sure you had not. I have told the authorities----"
"The police?" she broke in. It was almost a scream.
"Not the police. But, of course, a man can't let any one attempt his
life and just sit down under it. I have a very influential friend----"
I paused intentionally.
"Who is that?" came like a pistol shot.
"Baron von Gratzen; and he----"
"Did you tell him about me?"
"He knows of it. He is greatly interested in me because this
unfortunate affair about my treatment of you will affect all he can do
for my future. His wife and daughter were present yesterday when you
recognized me. Of course he questioned me all about it and declared
that he would have the fullest investigation made at once."
That seemed to break her right up. Von Gratzen's reputation caused the
collapse. She had stiffened in alarm at the mention of his name, had
listened with parted lips and straining features to every syllable
about his interest in me, and when she knew that his people were going
to take up the investigation, she was utterly overcome.
With a muffled cry of despair, she fell back in her chair in a
half-fainting condition, her hands pressed to her face, moaning
distractedly. She remained in this state for several minutes, the
effort to regain self-control being quite beyond her, and at length
sprang to her feet, saying she must go out at once.
"You'd better tell me everything before you go, Anna," I said. Knowing
that she had been driven into the deception by von Erstein, I pitied
her sincerely. She was like a wild thing in her panic, shaking her head
and flourishing her arms hysterically.
"No, no. To-morrow."
"It may be too late then. I have great influence with the Baron and can
put the matter to him in a way to help you. It will be useless to try
that to-morrow."
"Not now. Not yet. I can't. I can't. Let me go. Let me go, I say!"
I persisted, however; and at length she consented to my seeing her
again that afternoon at five o'clock. I had to be content with that,
and as soon as we reached the street she hurried off.
She was going to von Erstein of course, and I would have given
something to be able to hear what passed. She was in deadly fear of
him. Her manner had shown that; and considering what the man was, her
news would probably give him an equally bad attack of nerves. He would
not relish von Gratzen's intervention any better than she had.
On the whole the interview had turned out well enough. It would have
been better if I had been able to drag the truth out of her at once, of
course; but I was confident that I should get it all in the afternoon.
That would still give me time to carry the news to von Gratzen and
satisfy him that the obstacle to my leaving was removed.
The "third wheel" must none the less be in working order. Nessa must be
prepared to leave, and I went to the Karlstrasse to see her. She was
out with Lottchen, however, and I only saw Rosa, who was delighted to
hear that von Gratzen had arranged for us to leave.
"It's very lucky, too, because Oscar has left Berlin for a day or two
without having been able to do anything about the other scheme. You
won't need it now, of course."
"I wish I was sure; but I'm not. Von Gratzen may still raise some
objection; things are so mixed up. But I mean to go to-night in any
event, with or without his permit. Rotten luck that Feldmann's away."
"He was afraid you might do something like that, so he gave me the name
of a man who can do what you want, but I wasn't to tell you about it
unless it was absolutely necessary."
"It is necessary, as you can see for yourself. Who's the man and what
is he? I'll go to him straight off."
"David Graun is the name; he lives at 250, Futtenplatz. He's a Jew; a
very shady character, and Oscar said you'd have to be awfully careful
how you handled him."
"Where's the Futtenplatz?"
"It's in a low quarter across the river;" and she told me how to find
it. "Oscar says he bears the worst of characters and does all sorts of
shady things under the cloak of a second-hand clothes' dealer."
"He's sure that the man can get me what I want?"
"Oh yes; positive, if you handle him right; but you must be awfully
cautious. He'll ask much more at first than he expects."
"He's a Jew, of course."
"It isn't only that. It's his way of testing any one who goes to him.
If you agree to pay it, you won't get anything out of him except
promises. Oscar said I'd better tell you this to put you on your guard;
and you mustn't let him think it's for yourself under any
circumstances."
"Do you know how much I ought to pay him?"
"Only a few marks, ten or fifteen at the outside. He'll probably ask a
hundred or even more."
"I understand. But it's odd that Feldmann should know all this about
him."
She smiled. "That's what I thought, and Oscar said I might tell you the
real reason. The fact is this Graun works with the police. He got into
trouble once and they made things easy for him on his promise to act as
their spy. There's a lot of this false identification card business
done, and he reports every transaction to them, and they are able to
watch all the people who go to him. When any one is wanted, they give
him a description, and he just keeps the man waiting while he
communicates with them."
"That's cheerful. He'll tell them about me, then."
"Oscar says you needn't worry about it. So long as any one is not known
to be an alien or a criminal, nothing happens; but you're to be careful
to get the things at once."
"I don't quite see why."
"I didn't quite understand it, either. Oscar only told me at the last
minute just as he was hurrying away. I fancy he said something about a
second visit being risky, lest the man should have one of the police
there to have a look at you."
"I'll be off then. Tell Nessa I'll see her as soon as possible and tell
her everything."
"Oh, I do hope you'll get away safely. If the Baron lets you have the
permit and tickets, I'll never say another word against him as long as
I live," she declared as we shook hands.
"It will be all right one way or the other."
"Yes; but if you could really travel by the mail a few hours would end
everything. I shall be so anxious."
"Of course your mother mustn't know anything about Nessa leaving."
"She's in bed, after yesterday's upset. So that will be all right."
"Not really ill?"
"Oh, no; only a bad headache. Nessa and I are booked for a concert this
evening, and I shall tell the servants not to sit up for us, so that
she won't be missed till to-morrow morning; and by that time you two
ought to be in Holland;" and with that I set off to interview the
tricky old Jew in the Futtenplatz.