LIKE A DOG AT HEEL
As soon as I realized that von Felsen had fainted, I laid him on his
back and hunted round for some spirits. I found some brandy, and after
having poured about half a wineglass down his throat, left him to
recover his senses.
He was in a desperate plight when he came to; and at one time I was so
alarmed by his looks and his feeble flickering pulse, that I was on the
point of calling assistance. If his heart failed while he and I were
alone together, it might be awkward for me.
For him I had no sort of feeling but loathing and contempt; and whether
he lived or died was a matter of indifference so long as he lived long
enough to do what I required.
When he was looking his worst, he rallied a bit, however, and another
dose of the spirit set his pulse beating again with less irregularity
and some strength.
After a while he sat up and looked about him vacantly.
"I fainted?" he said, in a weak shaky voice.
"Yes," I nodded. "I found your brandy and gave you some."
"Give me some more. Oh, my God, I remember now," he cried wildly, and
clapped both his hands to his face.
I gave him the spirit and the glass rattled as he placed it to his
chattering teeth. "You'd better get on that sofa and lie down for a
while."
He glanced at me like a dog at his master, crawled across the floor to
the couch and dragged himself up slowly on to it. He was shivering
violently, so I threw over him the skirt of the dress I had worn, and
left him to himself for a long time: half an hour probably.
I took out again the paper he had stolen from his father's office and
re-read it carefully, fixing all the main points in my memory.
Old Ziegler had known well what he was about in forcing von Felsen to
steal such a document, and in getting me to agree to publish it in
London.
It was nothing less than a complete statement of the Kaiser's
shipbuilding policy for the future; the strength of the future navy, a
full list of the ships which were to be built; their tonnage, equipment
and armament; the number of the crews needed; everything given with
scrupulous detail.
Against every vessel indicated there was the name of a British vessel
with the same detail of its size and armament. In each case the German
vessel was to be of superior strength. It told its own story with a
clearness of inference that no one could mistake.
That it was an authentic document, I could not doubt. It was full of
interlineations and corrections in different handwritings. I recognized
one or two of them, and the whole appearance of the thing convinced me
that it would have been practically impossible for von Felsen or any one
else to have forged it.
That its disclosure would have raised a storm all over Europe was as
certain as that day follows night; and that it would injure the Imperial
Government immensely was equally clear, in view of the then excited
condition of public feeling.
It might even have provoked a war with England. Already the relations
between the two countries had been strained almost to a breaking point
by the Kaiser's hot-headed telegram to the Boer President and the belief
of his desire to intervene in the war in South Africa.
Even had I been still a newspaper man I should have hesitated to take
the responsibility of publication; and as it was, I did not contemplate
such a step for an instant. I had obtained possession of it for my own
private ends, and for those I would use it. For such a purpose it was
precisely what I needed.
But the instant the theft was discovered there would be such a hue and
cry raised that the mere possession of it would be a source of danger.
Luckily I had foreseen something of this; and it was my plan to get it
out of the country with the least possible loss of time. It was for
this I had told my sister to be ready to leave by the mail.
Time was getting on too; so I roused von Felsen. "Come, you must get to
work," I said. "I can't wait any longer."
With a heavy sigh he sat up. "What do you want?"
"Write me the truth as to how you came by this paper. Where it was
kept; in whose charge it was; how you knew of its existence; why you
stole it; and precisely the steps you took to obtain it. As short as
you like; but in such detail that your story can be tested."
"I daren't. It's more than my life's worth," he protested.
"You can choose between that and standing your trial for Ziegler's
murder. Without this ring I have enough evidence to convict you--what
you did before the crime; where you went from; how you gained admittance
to the house; when you left; where you went; and, mark this, what you
did with the weapon."
The greater part of all that was, of course, mere bluff; and I put it
only in general terms. But he was in such fear of me, that it was safe
bluff. Not for a second did he doubt that I could make every syllable
good. I could tell that by his looks.
After another groan of anguish he rose and crossed to the desk. "What
do you mean to do with it?" he asked, looking round with the pen in his
hand.
"Hush it all up, if you go straight. Use it, if you don't."
After a pause he began to write; and the scratch, scratch of his pen was
the only sound in the room for many minutes.
I took each half sheet as he finished it; and had no doubt he was
writing the truth. He was completely in the toils of the old Jew, and
the latter had forced him to do this under threats of ruin and exposure.
He had been drawn into the toils of the Polish party and they had
threatened to tell of the information which he had sold to them on
former occasions. This was to be the price of his complete emancipation
from them; and in dire fear of them he had consented.
"You were to receive twenty thousand marks. Put that in," I
interrupted.
It was an excellent stroke. He was overwhelmed by the fact that I knew
so much; and it settled all thought of any doubts about the rest of my
knowledge.
"Let me leave that out," he whined.
"Do as I say," I rapped back sternly; and he obeyed. Then he went on to
describe the means by which he had committed the theft. He had
duplicate keys of all the locks in his father's office.
When he had finished the confession and signed it, I made him hand over
those keys to me. With such a piece of evidence as they constituted in
my hands, I cared comparatively little whether his statement were true
or false. They would speak for themselves.
The writing of the confession with the breaks and pauses occupied nearly
an hour, and I could see that he was nearly collapsing; so I told him to
make the statement about Ziegler's murder very short.
"I have enough evidence without this at all," I declared; and he
believed me. But I made him give such an account of his doings on the
night, and particularly about the dagger he had used, where he had
obtained it, and what he had done with it, as would enable me at need to
find the proofs of his guilt.
When the ordeal was over he tottered back to the couch and lay down
exhausted; and I gave him a few minutes while I ran through both his
statements. Then I was ready to leave.
"Now about your future. I'll keep my word to you. The stolen paper and
your keys shall be returned to your father's office as the price of
Baron von Ringheim's pardon. I shall see your father and show him what
you have written about it all; and you know well enough that no harm
will come to you through him as the result. Are you listening?"
A feeble gesture of the hand was his only response.
"You'd better, for your life hangs on your understanding all I say and
doing what I tell you. Your admission of the murder I shall keep a dead
secret"--he started at that, raised himself on his elbow and looked
across at me--"on one condition. You must be out of the country within
twenty-four hours. If I find you here at the end of that time I shall
hand it to the police."
With a deep breath of relief he sank back. "I'll go; but I've--I've no
money."
"I'll find you enough to get away with"; and I laid a sum on the table;
"and as soon as you are across the frontier you can communicate with
your friends."
The assurance that he was to have a chance to save his worthless skin
had a surprisingly invigorating effect upon him. Now that the suspense
was over and he knew the worst which could befall him, he was greatly
relieved. He got up and lighted a cigarette. "Don't go yet," he said.
I was at the door and turned.
"I've made an awful mess of things," he went on.
"I don't want to discuss the ethics of your conduct," I retorted.
"I'll go straight now. I'll prove it to you in a minute. But I want you
to know that I didn't go to Ziegler's with any intention of killing him.
I went to get off that marriage with the daughter; and it was only when
we quarrelled and he made me mad that I did it. He threatened me."
"Anyhow you had arranged that some one else should do it, because you
had secretly accused him of treachery to his associates. And there
isn't much difference between the two."
"How the devil do you get to know so much? Yes, I did that. I'll admit
it to you after all this. But I'll go straight, as I said. And here's
the proof, so far as you are concerned. The police are still round your
house, and if you were to go back without a sign from me you'd all be
arrested."
I had not thought of that. "You'd better give me something then."
He went again to the desk and wrote a line or two. "You are to withdraw
your men. Hugo von Felsen," I read when he handed it to me.
"Perhaps that will convince you that I am in earnest," he said. "Give
it to the fellow in charge there. I shall leave for Austria to-night";
and with that we parted.
On my way home I found myself speculating whether he had been sincere in
that last act of his, or whether he could possibly have some other kind
of motive at the back of his head. It was uncommonly like a Greek gift.
And then a possible solution occurred to me. My arrest at that moment
with the papers I was carrying would have betrayed everything. He had
had wit enough to remember that, although I had overlooked it. That
sudden return to comparative self-possession took a fresh light in this
connexion.
Could he, even now, when I had possession of such damning proofs of his
guilt in both affairs, be contemplating some further treachery? Would
he dare such a step? He had been reduced to the lowest depths of abject
terror when I had confronted him with the proofs and extracted the
confessions from him, that it was difficult to credit it was all
shamming.
What could he do? His life lay in the hollow of my hand, and he knew me
well enough to be certain that at the first glimpse of a trick I should
act.
But he was such a slippery devil I could not be sure; and a dozen
suggestions flashed into my thoughts. Had that parade of his about the
police surrounding the house been no more than a bluff? There were men
there, because I had taken care to see them for myself. But were they
really the police?
If it had been no more than a lie, it had at any rate resulted
disastrously for him. That was a consolation, anyway. But if they were
only his creatures and not police, why had he given me the letter to
order them to withdraw?
He might be afraid of the papers falling into their hands, of course,
and so constituting a source of practically inexhaustible blackmail for
them. But, on the other hand, he might be just laying a trap for me to
fall into their hands.
Whatever view I took of it, I should have to be on the alert; and when I
reached the house I kept my hand on the revolver which had already done
me such service that night.
The men were still there, and as I approached one of them stopped me.
He was dressed in the uniform of the police, but he lacked the military
bearing of that remarkably fine set of men.
"I am from Herr von Felsen, and have this note for one of you," I said
as I drew it out.
We went to a lamp close at hand, where another man not in uniform joined
us. They read it, put their heads together in a whispered conference,
and then favoured me with a searching stare.
"It's right enough," said one of them. "Good-night, sir"; and with that
they turned away, spoke to some others who appeared mysteriously from I
didn't know where, and all walked away in a body.
I waited until they were out of sight before I let myself into the
house; and as I closed the door, my sister and Althea came running
downstairs.
"Is that you, Paul?" asked Bessie.
"Yes. Everything is as well as we could wish."
Althea laid both her hands in mine. "It has been like a nightmare," she
said.
"Von Felsen thought so too, I can assure you. But with a little luck
now a few hours will see all righted. Get ready to start, Bess. You
must go right through to Brussels. Sew these papers into your dress; or
hide them in any way you like, so long as you get them through safely."
"I shall be ready in a few minutes"; and she ran off with the packet.
"Tell me how you have managed it, Paul. It seems like a miracle," said
Althea.
I put my arm about her. "I found out things that beat him, and you will
have no more trouble through him."
"What things?"
"Ah, there you must have patience. I am pledged not to speak for
twenty-tour hours, in order to give him time to leave the country."
"He will not go," she answered instantly, shaking her head vigorously.
"He dare not stay. If you love me, nothing now can come between us."
"If? Paul!" and she put her arms round my neck; and what followed
concerned nobody but ourselves. But when she drew away it was to shake
her head doubtingly. "I do not trust him."
"Him? No; but his fear, yes. I tell you he dare not play me false."
"Pray Heaven it will all be right; but I still fear for you, Paul."
"It will be as surely as I kiss you now," I whispered. "And now can you
get your father to leave? There is no absolute need now, thank Heaven;
but while I am doing what I have to do, it would be best for him to be
out of the city."
"And you?" she asked with quick solicitude.
"I shall be all right. I hold all the winning cards, whatever happens."
Her dear face clouded and her brows puckered with a frown as she shook
her head. "I could not go if you were to remain. I will not, at least
until I know that all is right with you. Nor indeed could I if I would.
My father has been in a terrible state for some hours. I told him what
you suggested--that the scheme had failed, you know--and he wanted to
rush out of the house on the instant. I only stopped him by pointing
out the police to him."
"They are gone, I am glad to say. Von Felsen himself gave me a note
calling them away. What's that?" I broke off, as a sound upstairs
reached us, followed a moment afterwards by the shutting of a door.
"Bessie probably," suggested Althea.
"Of course. I forgot; but I have been a bit strung up by the night's
business. I was going to say that you had better not tell your father
the police have been removed. If he will not leave the city, he is
safest here." I hurried away then to put von Felsen's confessions and
the keys I had taken from him in safe hiding, and soon after that Bessie
came down and we started for the station.
After what Dormund had told me that day at the station about the
passports, I had some doubt whether some demur might be raised about
Bessie's departure; but no questions were asked, and she was soon seated
in the ladies' compartment with two other Englishwomen who, I was glad
to hear, were going through to Brussels. In the bustle of the
preparations and in giving her full instructions about the packet she
was carrying, I had thought no more of the little incident while I was
with Althea; but at the last moment I remembered it.
"By the way, Bess, did you come out of your room and go back again while
I was talking to Althea?"
"No. Why?"
"I thought I heard some one run upstairs and shut a door."
"It must have been Baron von Ringheim. He passed my room while I was
secreting the papers, and went into his own room. I wondered at the
time what had taken him downstairs."
"By Jove, I hope he didn't hear any thing about the police having left
the house. I must get back. Wire me the instant you arrive, Bess.
Good-bye."
The train was signalled out then, and with a last wave of the hand to
her I left the station. I was eager to be home again. If the Baron had
been anxious to leave the house and had really heard me tell Althea the
road was clear, it was quite likely he might take advantage of my
absence to carry out his purpose.
Anxious as this thought made me, I was not too preoccupied to keep my
eyes about me; and it was not without a start of concern that I observed
one of the men whom I had seen a short while before at my house. It was
the man in plain clothes who joined his uniformed companion to read the
letter.
He was apparently absorbed in reading a timetable, but I saw that he
followed me as I went out.
I got into a cab therefore and promised a liberal fare for a quick
journey. But the night horses of Berlin are not more brilliant than
those of London, and we had gone a very short distance before the horse
fell.
I jumped out, and found myself in a by thoroughfare which the man had
taken for a short cut.
I knew my way well enough, however, and set off homewards at a brisk
pace; but as I turned into a narrow street I tripped and fell, just as a
man rushed round the corner after me and fired a pistol at very short
range, and then bolted like a rabbit.
My fall probably saved my life; and I jumped up and rushed after him,
like a fool, instead of resting content with my narrow escape. But he
disappeared round a corner and, as I darted after him, I ran into a
couple of policemen who had heard the shot fired. As no one else was to
be seen, they thought I had fired the shot and was running away; and
despite all I could say, they insisted upon arresting me.
Fortune could not have served me a more scurvy trick at such a moment.