CHAPTER XXVI

A CHARGE OF MURDER

The farmer lumbered along at my side for a while, puffing and blowing hard, and as we climbed a hilly field we had to call a halt.

"I'm not so young as you," he said, gasping and wiping his forehead.

"I'm very anxious to get to my friend," I replied.

"He didn't seem very anxious to see you; at least he didn't say anything about any friend; but it was a hint from him which sent me down to that barn of mine to look for you."

"What did he say?" I asked, seeing that there was something behind his words.

"We've had a very rough character about these parts for some time past--a rascal that has been robbing right and left and has knocked one or two of the neighbours on the head--and I was speaking of him to my wife before the old stranger, and he turned and said he had seen a man of the sort in the barn there."

I laughed but held my tongue.

"You must excuse me, but is there anything funny about the old gentleman? He is a gentleman, of course; I could see that in a twinkle?"

The question gave a hint of the line to take. "Did you notice anything odd about him, then?"

"It's not for me to talk, of course; but my wife thought he was a bit strange in his head."

"Poor old fellow," I replied in a tone of commiseration.

"Ah, I thought as much," was the answer with a note of self-satisfaction. "My wife isn't often wrong. Are you in charge of him so to speak?"

"He is in my charge just at present; but I'm not his keeper, if that's what you mean? He's as harmless as a child; but he fancies himself a desperate conspirator. He's a noble."

"He told us that, but we didn't believe him."

"It's true; and of course his people are well able to pay handsomely for anything that is done for him."

The bait was taken readily. "I shall be glad to help of course if I can."

"If he's still at the house, you can. I want to get on to the city and send his friends out for him. If you could look after him meanwhile, you can name your own price, and I'll pay you something on account of it."

"I suppose he really is harmless. I mean he wouldn't be likely to give any trouble if we kept him in the house?"

"Oh, no chance of it. And certainly not, if you or I were in the room with him. Although of course I must get on to the city. I suppose two or three twenty mark pieces would pay you for a lost day?"

"I should think it would be worth five," he replied with Teutonic aptitude for driving a bargain.

"It's a lot of money; but we'll make it the five with an extra one for the wife, if she looks well after him. I always like the wife to have something."

We came in sight of the house soon after that, and with intense satisfaction I saw the Baron sitting by the door basking in the sunlight. Fearing that possibly he might take fright when he saw me and run away, or do something to scare the farmer from the bargain, I gave the latter a couple of gold pieces as an earnest, and sent him on ahead to get the Baron up into a room.

There was no difficulty. He went up to the Baron, who greeted him with a condescending smile. They spoke together, and I breathed a sigh of fervent thanksgiving when the two went indoors.

That load was lifted from my shoulders, and I followed to the house after an interval. Over a hearty meal I heard that the Baron had been put to bed, where he had fallen fast asleep. I did my utmost to ingratiate myself with both the farmer and his wife, and laughed as heartily as he himself did when he told her how he had treated me in the barn; and with a promise that they should be relieved of their charge as soon as possible, I set off in the farmer's cart for the nearest station on my way back to the city, to relieve Althea's anxiety and send her out to her father's assistance.

The stroke of good luck in finding a shelter for him had raised my spirits, and as I paced up and down the platform of the little by-station, where I had to wait over an hour for the train, I was able to view with comparative ease of mind the complications which still beset me.

My first step was obvious. As soon as I had seen Althea, I would get an interview with Herr Borsen and make a clean breast of everything, both in regard to myself and von Felsen. I was convinced in my own mind that the man who had fired that shot at me after leaving the station had been instigated by him. I had seen him at my house, had recognized him at the station, and again after he had fired at me.

In the face of that, it would be quixotic to wait for further proofs before letting von Felsen feel the weight of my hand. That day should see the end of things so far as he was concerned; I would hand over to Herr Borsen, not only the confession of the theft of the papers, but also that of the murder.

As I recalled my interview with him I saw how he had fooled me, and that his prompt recovery from terror--which I had attributed to his relief at hearing that his life might still be saved--was in reality due to his belief that he could compass my death in time to save himself from all trouble through the revelation of what I had forced from him.

Such a snake as that deserved no mercy, and he should have none.

I anticipated very little trouble in getting out of my own troubles. I had committed no crime. My association with old Ziegler and the men who had been plotting against the Government was in reality innocent enough; and although it was probable that those whom I had outwitted on the previous night would tell of my presence at the wharf and would do all they could against me, the fact that I had gone in search of the Baron would put that right.

The one step which I did regret was that I had had to take the life of the man, Gassen. But it had been done in self-defence. I had not intended to do more than send him adrift in the boat, while his attack on me had meant murder and nothing short of it. But whether it would be prudent to open my lips about it was questionable, and I would await developments before deciding.

Altogether, I was in a very confident mood as I drove from the station to my house, and jubilant in my anticipation of Althea's delight at the good news I could give her about her father.

But instead of having to deliver good news I had to receive bad--the worst indeed. The servants were alone in the house and on the point of leaving it; and I found Ellen sitting disconsolately in the hall, her eyes red with weeping, dressed in her hat and jacket ready to go.

"What is the matter? Where is Fraeulein von Ringheim?"

"She has gone, sir. There has been such trouble here. We had the police looking for you, and they searched the house from top to bottom," she wailed, her words interspersed with sobs. "Cook has packed, sir; and I can't stay, if you please."

"Very well, but before you go, try and tell me something more definite."

She fumbled in her pocket and brought out a telegram. "The Fraeulein opened it, sir: I didn't; and she told me I must get it to you as it was very important."

It was from Bessie and announced her safe arrival in Brussels with "everything." This was one piece of good news at any rate.

"Now, Ellen," I said, turning to question her, "of course you must go away if you wish, and I shouldn't think of stopping you. But I assure you the whole businesss is a mistake somewhere, and you do not run the faintest risk in staying here. Martha has not gone yet?" This was the cook.

"No, sir; but she's just ready."

"Well, while I change and look round, go and tell her to see me before she leaves."

"But the police told us both to go, sir."

"I'm not at all sure that you've had the police here at all. Did the Fraeulein go away with them, whoever they were?"

"No, sir. Herr von Felsen was here and was with her when the men were turning the place upside down. You never saw such a mess as they've made of things."

"Never mind the mess. Did he come with them?"

"Just before them, He was very excited and said they were coming."

"What time was that?"

"About midday, sir."

"And when did he leave? Did the Fraeulein go with him?"

"Yes, sir. That was about an hour ago."

It was just four o'clock. If I had not had to wait for that train, I should have been in time to take a hand in the business.

"I am quite convinced from your answers that these men were not police, Ellen; but tell me were any of them the men who were watching the house yesterday?"

"Yes, sir. One of them spoke to me yesterday, and it was he who told us to-day that if we didn't go we should be in trouble. He behaved shameful, and wanted to put us out there and then without our boxes; but cook she up and told him she wasn't going without hers, and then he gave us an hour to clear out in."

"Well done, Martha," I exclaimed, as the cook came downstairs. I explained to her that the men had not been the police, and endeavoured to allay the fears of them both.

I succeeded after some difficulty, and they agreed to remain.

"That fellow said he'd come back in an hour to see that we had gone," said Martha, a woman with a great deal of spirit. "I hope he will come"; and she nodded her head with an emphasis which promised him a warm reception.

"I don't expect you'll see him here again. Now, a last question. Did they say anything to you about the supposed crime for which I was to be arrested?"

"They went on awful about you, sir," replied Martha. "You was a conspirator, and a murderer, and you'd either run away to get out of their hands or had killed yourself; and I don't know what else. But you were never coming back. That was certain."

"Well, here I am, you see; so you can tell how much to believe of the rest."

"They said they had warrants for you, sir," put in Ellen. "They showed me some papers; and the Fraeulein told me afterwards they had, and that she was going away in order to prevent any harm coming to you."

"Well, we'll soon have things all right again," I replied, and went off to change my clothes and view the results of the men's work.

I thought I could understand it all, I guessed that the man who had fired at me on the previous night had mistaken my fall for the result of his shot, and had accordingly reported that the attempt had been successful. With me out of his way, von Felsen had only to recover possession of the stolen paper, the keys and the confessions he had written, to find his hand once more on the controlling lever of everything so far as Althea was concerned.

That was what the search meant, and that it had been complete, the evidence of my own eyes showed. But it had not been successful, any the more for that. The stolen paper was safe in Brussels, and I had been in such a cyclone hurry to get after the Baron on the previous night, that I had not stayed to look the other things up, but had thrust them into the first place which had caught my eye. This had been the large upright iron stove in the hall among the kindling wood and paper. And there I found them.

Almost every other conceivable nook and cranny in the house which would have served for a hiding-place had been ransacked, and every desk and drawer opened and searched. It was a stupendous piece of luck.

A moment's reflection decided me to leave them where they were. My first task must be to find Althea. Her safety was much more to me than my own, and she was not safe for a single second of the time she was with von Felsen.

It was an easy guess that his failure to find what he had sought so drastically would put him in a very ugly mood, and even his belief in my death would not suffice to ease his mind. So long as that evidence of his crimes remained in existence, it was liable to fall into the hands of some one who would be able to use it with disastrous results to him.

I would have given much to know the story he had told to Althea. He would not say a word about my supposed death, and the servants' references to the warrants for my arrest suggested the line he had taken.

He would seek to prey upon her fears both for her father and myself, and pose as being still in a position to save us both. If he had done that I had no doubt that he would drive her to consent to marry him; and my fear was that, exasperated by not having found what he sought and needed so desperately, he would rush matters to a crisis at once.

I hurried at once to von Felsen's house, but only to find it shut up. I knocked and rang several times without result, and in the end had to turn away baffled and a prey to fresh fears and apprehension.

Where to look for him I had no idea, nor where to look for Althea of course. I had felt so certain of finding them both at the house that the sting of the disappointment was all the more disconcerting.

It flashed across my thoughts that possibly Althea might have gone back to her own house, or might have communicated with Chalice in some way during my absence; and acting on the impulse, I jumped back into the cab and told the man to drive me there.

On the way another thought occurred to me: Hagar Ziegler. She might know where to tell me to look for von Felsen; and I was putting my head out of the window to give the driver the fresh direction, when we pulled up at Chalice's house.

As I should lose no more than a few minutes in seeing her, I ran up to the door, and when the servant opened it I sprang up the stairs without wasting the time to be announced, dashed into her room, and, without an apology for my abruptness, asked if Althea had been there.

Chalice jumped to her feet on my entrance, stared at me as if I were a lunatic, and then backed and laid her hand on the bell-pull.

"Why do you come here? I can't help you, Herr Bastable. You must know that."

"You can answer my question at any rate. Fraeulein Althea is missing from my house and I am searching for her. Has she been here?"

She fixed her eyes on me with an expression of bewilderment. "She can't help you to escape; and of all houses in Berlin this is the last you should have come to."

"For Heaven's sake do give me an answer. Can't you see I am on fire with impatience? Every minute may mean ruin to her."

She bent toward me and came a step or two forward. "Do you mean you don't know? You must not stay here. It will ruin me if you are found here. Do you mean that you don't know?

"Know what?" I cried angrily in my exasperation.

"Good heavens! Why, that you are accused of the murder of Hagar Ziegler's father!"