NOT AT BERLIN
"Hanged, or condemned to penal servitude for life."
There fell a dead silence after Jim Cayley uttered those ominous words.
He waited for me to speak, but for a minute or more I was dumb. He had
voiced the fear that had been on me more or less vaguely ever since I
broke open the door and saw Cassavetti's corpse; and that had taken
definite shape when I heard Freeman's assertion concerning "a red-haired
woman."
And yet my whole soul revolted from the horrible, the appalling
suspicion. I kept assuring myself passionately that she was, she must
be, innocent; I would stake my life on it!
Now, after that tense pause, I turned on Jim furiously.
"What do you mean? Are you mad?" I demanded.
"No, but I think you are," Jim answered soberly. "I'm not going to
quarrel with you, Maurice, or allow you to quarrel with me. As I told
you before, I am only warning you, for your own sake, and for Anne's.
You know, or suspect at least--"
"I don't!" I broke in hotly. "I neither know nor suspect that--that
she--Jim Cayley, would you believe Mary to be a murderess, even if all
the world declared her to be one? Wouldn't you--"
"Stop!" he said sternly. "You don't know what you're saying, you young
fool! My wife and Anne Pendennis are very different persons. Shut up,
now! I say you've got to hear me! I have not accused Anne Pendennis of
being a murderess. I don't believe she is one. But I do believe that, if
once suspicion is directed towards her, she would find it very
difficult, if not impossible, to prove her innocence. You ought to know
that, too, and yet you are doing your best, by your ridiculous behavior,
to bring suspicion to bear on her."
"I!"
"Yes, you! If you want to save her, pull yourself together, man; play
your part for all it's worth. It's an easy part enough, if you'd only
dismiss Anne Pendennis from your mind; forget that such a person
exists. You've got to give evidence at this inquest. Well, give it
straightforwardly, without worrying yourself about any side issues; and,
for Heaven's sake, get and keep your nerves under control, or--"
He broke off, and we both turned, as the door opened and a smart
parlor-maid tripped into the room.
"Beg pardon, sir. I didn't know you were here," she said with the demure
grace characteristic of the well-trained English servant. "It's nearly
supper-time, and I came to see if there was anything else wanted. I laid
the table early."
"All right, Marshall. I've been giving Mr. Wynn some supper, as he has
to be off. You needn't sound the gong for a few minutes."
"Very well, sir. If you'd ring when you're ready, I'll put the things
straight."
She retreated as quietly as she had come, and I think we both felt that
her entrance and exit relieved the tension of our interview.
I rose and held out my hand.
"Thanks, Jim. I can't think how you know as much as you evidently do;
but, anyhow, I'll take your advice. I'll be off, now, and I won't come
back to-night, as Mary asked me to. I'd rather be alone. See you both
to-morrow. Good night."
I walked back to Westminster, lingering for a considerable time by the
river, where the air was cool and pleasant. The many pairs of lovers
promenading the tree-shaded Embankment took no notice of me, or I of
them.
As I leaned against the parapet, watching the swift flowing murky tide,
I argued the matter out.
Jim was right. I had behaved like an idiot in the garden just now. Well,
I would take his advice and buck up; be on guard. I would do more than
that. I would not even vex myself with conjectures as to how much he
knew, or how he had come by that knowledge. It was impossible to adopt
one part of his counsel--impossible to "forget that such a person as
Anne Pendennis ever existed;" but I would only think of her as the girl
I loved, the girl whom I would see in Berlin within a few days.
I wrote to her that night, saying nothing of the murder, but only that I
was unexpectedly detained, and would send her a wire when I started, so
that she would know when to expect me. Once face to face with her, I
would tell her everything; and she would give me the key to the mystery
that had tortured me so terribly. But I must never let her know that I
had doubted her, even for an instant!
The morning mail brought me an unexpected treasure. Only a post-card,
pencilled by Anne herself in the train, and posted at Dover.
It was written in French, and was brief enough; but, for the time being,
it changed and brightened the whole situation.
"I scarcely hoped to see you at the station, _mon ami_;
there was so little time. What haste you must have made to
get there at all! Shall I really see you in Berlin? I do
want you to know my father. And you will be able to tell me
your plans. I don't even know your destination! The
Reichshof, where we stay, is in Friedrich Strasse, close to
Unter den Linden. _Au revoir!_
A. P."
A simple message, but it meant much to me. I regarded it as a proof that
her hurried journey was not a flight, but a mere coincidence.
Mary had a post-card, too, from Calais; just a few words with the
promise of a letter at the end of the journey. She showed it to me when
I called round at Chelsea on Monday evening to say good-bye once more.
The inquest opened that morning, and was adjourned for a week. Only
formal and preliminary evidence was taken--my own principally; and I was
able to arrange to leave next day. Inspector Freeman made the orthodox
statement that "the police were in possession of a clue which they were
following up;" and I had a chat with him afterwards, and tried to ferret
out about the clue, but he was close as wax.
We parted on the best of terms, and I was certain he did not guess that
my interest in the affair was more than the natural interest of one
who was as personally concerned in it as I was, with the insatiable
curiosity of the journalist superadded. Whatever I had been yesterday,
I was fully master of myself to-day.
Jim was out when I reached Chelsea, somewhat to my relief; and Mary was
alone for once.
She welcomed me cordially, as usual, and commended my improved
appearance.
"I felt upset about you last night, Maurice; you weren't a bit like
yourself. And what on earth did you mean in the drawing-room--about
Anne?" she asked.
"Sheer madness," I said, with a laugh. "Jim made that peg too strong,
and I'm afraid I was--well, a bit screwed. So fire away, if you want to
lecture me; though, on my honor, it was the first drink I'd had all
day!"
I knew by the way she had spoken that Jim had not confided his
suspicions to her. I didn't expect he would.
She accepted my explanation like the good little soul she is.
"I never thought of that. It's not like you, Maurice. But I won't
lecture you this time, though you did scare me! I guess you felt pretty
bad after finding that poor fellow. I felt shuddery enough even at the
thought of it, considering that we knew him, and had all been together
such a little while before. Has the murderer been found yet?"
"Not that I know of. The inquest's adjourned, and I'm off to-morrow.
I'll have to come back if necessary; but I hope it won't be. Any message
for Anne? I shall see her on Wednesday."
"No, only what I've already written: that I hope her father's better,
and that she'd persuade him to come back with her. She was to have
stayed with us all summer, as you know; and I'm not going to send her
trunks on till she writes definitely that she can't return. My private
opinion of Mr. Pendennis is that he's a cranky and exacting old pig! He
resented Anne's leaving him, and I surmise this illness of his is only
a ruse to get her back again. Anne ought to be firmer with him!"
I laughed. Mary, as I knew, had always been "firm" with her "poppa," in
her girlish days; had, in fact, ruled him with a rod of iron--cased in
velvet, indeed, but inflexible, nevertheless!
I started on my delayed journey next morning, and during the long day
and night of travel my spirits were steadily on the up-grade.
Cassavetti, the murder, all the puzzling events of the last few days,
receded to my mental horizon--vanished beyond it--as boat and train bore
me swiftly onwards, away from England, towards Anne Pendennis.
Berlin at last. I drove from the Potsdam station to the nearest
barber's,--I needed a shave badly, though I had made myself otherwise
fairly spick and span in the toilet car,--and thence to the hotel Anne
had mentioned.
She would be expecting me, for I had despatched the promised wire when I
started.
"Send my card up to Fraulein Pendennis at once," I said to the waiter
who came forward to receive me.
He looked at me--at the card--but did not take it.
"Fraulein Pendennis is not here," he asserted. "Herr Pendennis has
already departed, and the Fraulein has not been here at all!"