CHAPTER XVII

"W. MISCHEN'S" WAREHOUSE

When I read Borsen's letter through the second time, I thought I could detect a little more in it than appeared on the surface. "Any time to-morrow will do, but not later," he wrote; and he had dated his note "midday."

I judged therefore that he was really stretching a point in order to give me time to get my visitor away, and so be able to "contradict the report." There was plenty of time for him to have seen me that afternoon: the obvious course in the case of a matter so really serious. But he had given me the interval to afford me the time to free myself from suspicion.

He was a very good fellow, and had at one time been very friendly with me; but there was something besides friendship behind his present step. I had convinced him in Chalice's matter that I was likely to succeed as well with Althea; and being a negotiator with a preference for the path of least resistance, he preferred that I should have the time to pull that chestnut out of the fire for him rather than that he should have to do it himself.

There was a still further reason. The presence of Baron von Ringheim in Berlin was likely to be more than a little embarrassing to Count von Felsen's scheme for his son. They knew perfectly well that he would only venture to come to the capital for some such purpose as that which had actually brought him; and if he were to be taken at such a juncture and under such suspicious circumstances, the Kaiser's promise of a pardon was pretty sure to be withdrawn.

Borsen was thus turning the screw on me to force me to take the steps which they greatly desired and could not take for themselves.

I determined to put this to the test at once, therefore, with a little bluff, I scribbled a hasty line to the effect that I could go round immediately, if he wished; but that on the following day I should probably be going on a journey with a friend.

I intended him to infer that I should be taking the Baron out of the city. He read the letter in that light; and sent back word that he was going away at once, and that under the circumstances the next day but one would do well enough for the purpose.

I had a respite of twenty-four hours. I told Althea what had passed, and that I could not possibly face Borsen unless in the meanwhile we could prevail upon her father to leave the city, and I described my rough idea of getting him away by a fairy-tale about the discovery of the plot.

Partly with the object of being able to give colour to the story, and partly out of a desire to ascertain something more about the doings of the Baron's associates, I went down to the riverside to have a look at their headquarters.

I was extremely anxious about his account of the intended attempt to wreck the _Wundervoll_, and resolved of course to prevent it. The whole Empire was in one of those flushes of feeling about the navy which the Emperor's policy had created; and I knew that such an outrage would incense the authorities, and that the punishment meted out would be in proportion to their wrath.

Directly or indirectly, some of that demand for vengeance would fall on Althea as well as on myself--if it became generally known that I had sheltered one of the chief perpetrators--and I had to find the means of secretly preventing so disastrous a result.

The riverside premises looked harmless enough. The name, "W. Mischen," had been newly painted up, and a suggestion that a corn business was being carried on there was evidenced by some sacks of grain.

The office was open, and I could see one man inside, lounging idly at a desk, obviously with nothing to do. But the moment he heard my step and caught sight of me, he began to work on a big ledger with over-acted activity.

I resolved to risk going in. The adjoining premises were to let, so I used that as an excuse and asked him if he could tell me anything about them. A very few questions convinced me that he was a Berliner who had probably been engaged as a clerk to give a cover to the fictitious business.

Under the pretext of a desire to see whether the water front would suit my purposes--I was a wharfinger for the moment--I got him to show me over the premises. I found, of course, that the place would not suit me.

"Some one appears to be very busy over there," I said, pointing a little way down the river where a number of men in boats were at work.

"They are dockyard men laying down moorings. They have all but finished now. I believe the _Wundervoll_ is to be moored there for a while. Have you seen her? A splendid ship she'll be when she's fitted. I am a big navy man. We shall never be safe until we have a fleet as big as England's."

"It will come in time," I replied; and we went inside again. I saw the reason for the wharf now; and wondered how they had succeeded in getting wind of the Government's intention so early.

"I am really very much obliged to you," I said as we stood again in the office. "You seem rather short-handed too, so I mustn't take up your time."

"Oh, I haven't much to do yet. The firm is only just starting here. This is to be only the Berlin branch; the business is at Hamburg, you know. I wish I had more to do; but of course it takes a lot of time to get things going."

I thanked him again and left. I was well repaid for the visit. The scheme had been shrewdly planned. When the vessel lay within so short a distance of the wharf, the attack would be comparatively easy, and success quite attainable. A bomb with a time fuse attached could easily be thrown on board her.

How could I prevent it? That was the rub. I went up to the Press Club thinking this out.

If I could have been certain that the bomb which I had thrown into the river was really that which was to be used, I should almost have been willing to let the matter rest where it was, for I had already prevented disaster.

But a little further consideration almost made my flesh creep. The bomb I had given the Baron would do no harm to the vessel, but it might very well blow me into prison. It would be found, of course; inquiries would follow, and the obliging young man who had made it for me, "for private theatricals," would give a description of me and an account of the transaction which I should be unable to explain away; while the agreeable fellow at the wharf would be able to tell how I had gone down to "inquire about the untenanted premises."

That wouldn't do; so with a curse at the Baron and all his works--except paternity of Althea--I turned to think of some other plan.

There was only one way. I must get such information to the authorities as would induce them to choose some other moorings for the warship. And I must do it at once.

My old press connexions must find the means. There were plenty of German newspaper men who would have given their ears for such a story as I could tell them; but I could not trust them to hold their tongues as to the source of the information. And that was of course essential.

The story must come from London, or better, from Paris; and the only man I dared to trust in the matter was Bassett--the correspondent who had taken my place. I telephoned him to come to me at the club, and when he arrived I told him as much of the case as was necessary.

I explained that I had stumbled on the information by chance, but in a manner which rendered it impossible for my name to be mentioned. He was anxious enough to get a "scoop," and readily promised to keep my connexion absolutely secret. Together we drew up such a paragraph as would set the ball rolling, and he agreed to warn the naval authorities in his own name that the object of attack was the _Wundervoll_, and that her safety depended upon her not being taken to the proposed moorings.

It was a common enough thing for newspaper men to get hold of information a long way ahead of the authorities, and for the sources of it to be kept secret.

"I'll hold my tongue about you, of course," he said as we were parting. "And I'm awfully obliged to you. It's just what I want, as a matter of fact. The navy people here have been awfully close with me and standoffish, and this will put matters on just the footing I need."

I went home in a well satisfied mood. One of the many tangles was unravelled. There would be no outrage of any sort; and for my own protection I must get that bogus bomb back into my own hands as soon as possible. That was almost as essential as getting the Baron away.

But I found trouble waiting for me at home. The Baron had gone to bed ill, and Althea was at her wits-end to know whether she dared call in a doctor. I went up with her to his room, and found him apparently very bad indeed. He looked very ill, and had been complaining of intense pain.

To move him was clearly impossible, even if he had been willing to go away.

"For his own sake we must do without a doctor if we can," I told her.

"I thought he was going to die a little time ago, but he appears to be easier now. I did not know what to do for the best," she replied as she bent over him and smoothed his pillows and kissed him.

"After Borsen's letter I meant to get him to leave the city. Every hour after to-morrow will be one of danger for him."

Unfortunately he heard this, and between his gasps and groans of pain he abused me for a traitor and ordered me out of the room. I did not pay any heed at first, but it soon became evident that my presence excited him so much that Althea begged me to go.

His illness was checkmate so far as getting him out of the house for the present was concerned; and as that was all important, I deemed it best to take the additional risk of having a doctor to get him well enough to travel.

While I was still considering this, Althea came down, and I told her.

"Not yet," she said decidedly. "I think he is better again. He raved almost deliriously after you had left the room; that you and all of us in fact were bent upon betraying the cause, and that if any attempt were made to get him out of the city he would---- Oh, he talked most wildly. What can we do, Mr. Bastable? I am so grieved that I have brought all this on you."

"I told you before that we would not go out to look for trouble. After all, it may end in nothing serious. We have all to-morrow; and it will be quite time enough if he goes then."

"You try to make so light of it, but----" She broke off and threw up her hands.

"We shall have plenty of time to worry when the need comes, if it is to come," I answered with a smile. "You will be ill yourself if you are not more careful."

"The excitement has worn him out so that he is sleeping a little now," she said. "I dare not leave him for long; but I felt I must come down to you for a minute."

"It may be the beginning of an improvement. Of course there is one way in which we might venture to move him."

"How?"

"A sleeping draught, and take him away as an invalid."

But she shook her head vigorously at the suggestion.

"I dare not. His heart is so weak, he might die under it."

"That closes that door then"; and I endeavoured to make her feel that I refused to take things too seriously.

There was a slight pause during which she glanced at me twice nervously and said hesitatingly: "There is another way if you will take it."

"Not the last resource, yet. It has not come to that by a long way."

"No. I--I mean--you ought to think of Bessie. I wish that. You must."

"Do you mean she should go away? I am afraid she would not care to go. I wish she would."

"But you--you might take her."

"Althea!" The Christian name slipped from me unwittingly in my quick protest against the suggestion that I should desert her. I stopped in confusion, and the colour rushed to her face. We were both embarrassed by the blunder.

Presently she raised her eyes to mine. "Please do it. I wish it," she urged in a low, intensely earnest tone.

"Do you believe it possible?"

"If you care at all for what I say or wish, you will do it."

"Then I am afraid we must take it that I do not," I answered, smiling.

"But if Bessie were only safely away, I should not mind so much."

"She is not in any serious danger. They would not do anything to her."

"You know what I mean," she cried quickly. "Why force me to say it? I cannot bear the thought of bringing you into this danger. The fear of what may happen haunts me every moment, day and night. You must go."

"You are letting your fears exaggerate the danger. I cannot go."

"You must. I insist." Quite vehemently uttered, this.

"Don't force me to the discourtesy of a flat refusal."

Her earnestness was only magnified. "You shall go. I am quite determined. You shall go or----" Her eyes were flashing and her features set with resolve.

"I am just as determined as you."

She paused and then said very deliberately, but with lips that quivered: "If you do not, I shall go to Herr von Felsen and accept his terms. I will not accept the sacrifice which you are intent on making for me."

There was a pause while we looked one at the other, every line of her lovely face eloquent of her purpose; and before I could reply, we were face to face with another crisis that drove everything else out of our thoughts for the moment.

Believing that I was alone, Ellen opened the door and announced Herr Dormund.

I had just time to whisper to Althea, "You had better be Bessie, remember," when he came in bristling with importance. He paused on seeing that I was not alone, and I went forward and offered him my hand. "Come in, Herr Dormund. It is only my sister. Then you'll see to that for me, Bessie; and don't let me have to bother again about it."

Dormund had bowed when I referred to her and then turned to me with a very significant look. "I have not yet had the pleasure of being presented to--your sister."

"I clean forgot. Pardon. Bessie, Herr Dormund. You have often heard me speak of him."

She was close to the door and turned to give him a gracious bow. Would he let her go? I watched him very anxiously.

"I have had the pleasure of meeting you once before, Fraeulein--at the station a day or two ago," he said. "I am delighted to see you again."

She was at a loss for a reply, so I cut in: "Run and see to that at once, Bess; and then perhaps when Herr Dormund has finished his business you can return."

He did let her go; so I gathered that Feldermann had passed on to him the instructions from Borsen.

And very fortunate it was. For just as the door closed behind her, I heard Bessie's voice calling loudly and with some alarm: "Althea! Althea!" followed by the voices of the two as they met.

"Then you have two sisters, Herr Bastable?" said Dormund very drily as he turned with a very meaning look. "It is a coincidence that the name of one of them should be Althea."

"'Tis odd, isn't it?" and forcing a smile, as though it was a coincidence and nothing more, I motioned him to a chair, sat down, and pushed the cigar-box across to him.

It should be his move first at any rate.