CHAPTER XXX

THE END

As soon as we three were left alone, I drew an easy chair close to the door, threw myself into it and begged a cigar from Borsen.

"Now, Herr Borsen, what has von Felsen told you?" I asked sharply. "I'm dead beat and want to get to bed. We'll have this thing over as soon as possible. I'm going to let him tell you why he wouldn't allow me to send for Feldermann just now, and I'll sit here and check what he says. He can tell you as much as he likes."

"You don't appear to understand that you have to explain your connexion with the Polish party," he retorted.

"My explanation is easy. I had two objects--one, to save the Baron von Ringheim; the other, to catch von Felsen tripping. I have succeeded in both. He knows that and more than that. And I can of course prove everything."

"What does this mean?" he asked von Felsen, who was staring at me in dire fear about what I meant to tell.

"I gave him twenty-four hours in which to get out of the country. Let him tell you under what circumstances. That'll clear the ground."

Von Felsen was too frightened to attempt a reply, however; and he sat eyeing us both uneasily, and pulling at his fingers with little nervous jerks.

"The matter's a thousand times more serious than you think, Borsen, and if I did the right thing, I should send straight for the police and hand him over to them. But if he makes a clean breast of it, and if the things are done which I require, I'm willing to hold my tongue."

"You think you are in a position to make terms," cried Borsen with some show of indignation.

"I don't think it. I know it. You have two things to get into your head. In the first place, that this fellow is a most infernal scoundrel, and that I have found him out; and in the second, that I am in possession of that paper which was stolen from the Count's office, and of the set of duplicate keys which enabled the thief to steal it."

"What do you mean?" He was intensely excited on the instant.

"Look there;" and I pointed at von Felsen, who was cowering down in his chair in a condition of abject terror.

"Do you mean that he----? My God, is it possible?" he cried horror-struck.

"Yes, that is just what I do mean. Let him tell you himself. If he won't then, I will; and I shall add the rest. The rest is blacker still."

It was some time before von Felsen could bring himself to speak, and then he gave a long rambling story of how he had been in Ziegler's power, and had been forced to disclose secret after secret, until the theft of the papers had been the climax. Questions from me brought out the rest--that he had brought Baron von Ringheim to Berlin; had let him know where Althea was in order to entrap me; and all the rest of it, including my abduction by Dragen, and the attempts on my life.

Borsen was almost unnerved. He sat with his head buried in his hands as he listened, and at the end his face was grey and drawn, and he looked across at me with a deep sigh of anguish. "We are in your hands, Mr. Bastable. It will ruin the Count."

"There is even worse yet, if it has to be told," I replied grimly.

"What are your terms?"

"A pardon for Baron von Ringheim and the restoration of his estates--you have already obtained the promise of that, you know--and the clearance of all complications affecting myself; a confession that he lied to Hagar Ziegler in accusing me of her father's murder; a letter from you now that you have heard von Felsen's confession; and a written undertaking that you will be responsible for his safe keeping until all is settled."

"You shall have them to-morrow," he said after a pause.

"Thank you, I prefer to have them now."

"But I cannot promise all this on my own account."

"Then we'll have the police here. I don't mean to lose sight of that scoundrel again until I know where I stand."

"I must see the Count first."

"Then see him to-night. You have my last word."

"You might take my word of honour, I think."

"I don't doubt you, but I'll take nothing but the actual evidence. You might not be able to prevail with the others."

"I'll go to him," he agreed.

He went at once, and I locked the door behind him and sat smoking in silence.

"Do you mean to accuse me of that murder?" asked von Felsen after a long pause.

"Yes, if I don't get my own way. And of everything else."

Not another word passed between us until Borsen returned after an hour or so and brought what I needed. The rest of the business was very soon completed.

I wrote a very short note to Althea, telling her that all was now well and that I would see her early on the following morning, and then turned to consider my last problem--where to sleep that night. It seemed a very trifling thing indeed, but it was to have consequences none the less.

Count von Felsen had insisted upon his son going to his house, and Borsen was to take him. I could not stay where I was; I was not inclined to run the risk of going to my own house lest Dragen or any of the men with him should come to make trouble; and in my bootless and generally dishevelled condition, I was doubtful of being received into any hotel.

I explained the position to Borsen, and he agreed to take me in the carriage with him and von Felsen and drop me at an hotel, where he would vouch for me. Lander accompanied me.

The matter was thus soon settled with the hotel people, and Borsen returned to the cab. I was just entering the lift, feeling as tired as a dog, when he came rushing back.

"He's gone," he exclaimed excitedly.

"Who's gone?"

"Von Felsen. He bolted while I was talking to the people here."

"Perhaps that's the best way out of it all. Anyway, I'm too dog-tired to look for him to-night. I'll see you in the morning;" and with that I left him staring blankly after me as the lift started.

It was close to noon before I rose, and I should not have woke then had it not been that some one was thumping vigorously at my door. I opened it and found Feldermann waiting impatiently to see me.

Dragen had been arrested, and the whole story of my treatment by him and his fellow-scoundrels had been told to the police by one of the gang, who had made a full confession. Feldermann had been to Borsen, as von Felsen's name had been mentioned, and he had come to me to learn what I should do.

"I can't tell you yet," I replied. I could not. I wished to see Althea first and ascertain her wishes as to our movements. For my part I was anxious to get away from Berlin as soon as possible. The last few days had been quite strenuous enough to satisfy me, and I realized the necessity of putting as great a distance as possible between myself and the Polish party.

"Has von Felsen turned up?" I asked him.

He shook his head and grinned. "I think we could trace him. I have a clue, but it may not be desirable to follow it up."

"Which means?"

"I expect you know more than they have told me; but I know enough to make me doubt whether his father is very anxious to see him again. Of course if you take steps against these men, it may have to come out, the whole of it."

"What's the clue?"

"That Jew girl, Hagar Ziegler, left the city this morning for Hamburg, with a companion. There's a boat sails to-day for Philadelphia."

"And the sex of the companion?"

He shrugged his shoulders and smiled significantly. A woman--apparently. "But only one berth has been booked for a woman, by wire of course; although, by a coincidence, a steerage passage has been reserved for a male passenger."

"And what does Herr Borsen propose to do?"

"Nothing. And you?"

"Nothing," I replied, adopting the same laconic tone.

He looked relieved. "And Dragen and the rest? Are you eager to push the charge hard against them?"

"What has Borsen said to you about that?"

"Nothing," he said again, looking at me very meaningly.

"You have something to say on your own account then?"

"No more than a personal opinion as a friend of yours. I have a sort of idea that if the whole matter were dropped, the other things you wish might be more easily arranged."

I understood and smiled. "Is that a bargain?"

He nodded. "Speaking as your friend I should think you may regard it as settled."

"The brutes meant to take my life. They ought to be punished."

"I think you may leave that to us."

"Very well, I will," I agreed.

"I'm glad you see it as I do," he said as he rose. "Oh, by the way, are you leaving Berlin?"

"Probably. Why?"

"Oh, there was a row and some fighting in a riverside warehouse the other evening, and a man was found with a bullet in his head in an open boat."

"Suicide?"

"I suppose so. No proof of anything else. The affair was political, we think. We caught one or two of those concerned, but some escaped. I don't suppose we shall catch them. They are either out of the country by this time or will be before we can lay hands on them."

"I expect you're right, Feldermann. I had an idea that there was something to be done against the _Wundervoll_, you know. She was to have been moored just off that warehouse, and I got Bassett--the man who followed me on my old paper, you know--to print a word of warning from Paris."

He gave a little start of surprise. "They wouldn't thank you if they knew; but I don't suppose you'll delay your going to wait for their thanks." And with that he left me.

I got up, then, borrowed a pair of boots, telephoned to Althea that I had been detained, had my breakfast and drove to my house and dressed myself in decent clothes, and packed a trunk and returned with it to the hotel, where I found Borsen awaiting me.

He had heard the result of my interview with Feldermann and had come to arrange for the papers to be handed over.

"They are in Brussels," I said; "but I am going through there myself, and the little interval will just allow time for your part of the matter to be concluded. By the way, that State concert is to-night, isn't it?"

"Yes, and if the new Prima pleases the Court, it's very likely the announcement of the Baron's pardon will be made by His Majesty. And the more likely, because the Prince von Graven will be present with his future bride, the Princess von Altenwelt. I suppose you know that the Imperial marriage is now definitely settled. Everything is going your way."

"I hope to-morrow that way will be the way toward England; in which case your messenger can meet me in Brussels."

"You might do worse than take the Baron with you. A temporary absence would be a good thing."

I hurried off to Althea, with this budget of good news; but only to meet with a disappointment. She was not at home, and Chalice had just returned from a final rehearsal with Herr Grumpel and was busy with the dressmakers trying on her costume for the evening.

She received me with very scant courtesy. She was in high spirits about the concert, but in a bad temper about her dress. "I can't see you now, Herr Bastable. I haven't a moment."

"Where is Althea?" I asked.

"Would you believe that she could have been so inconsiderate as to go rushing off at a time like this, when every minute is precious to get my costume perfect for this evening? I could cry with vexation. No one ever thinks about me, and I have to do everything for myself, and for them too. And there isn't the slightest need. At the risk of sacrificing everything, I went out to that horrible farm yesterday and arranged for the Baron to remain there."

"She has gone to her father, then?"

"Yes. Imagine doing such a thing! And all these things here to be settled! And she really has good taste in such things. I do wish people would not be so selfish. I can't understand it. I shall never be ready, I know."

"How did you find the Baron?"

"Why, of course there was no need at all for me to go to him. I think it was horrid of you to make me waste the time in rushing out there at all."

"I will go out there now myself. By the way, did Althea say anything to you about your leaving Berlin for a time?"

"About _my_ leaving?" she cried with positively indignant surprise. "Directly after my appearance when every one will be talking about me! Herr Bastable!"

"Her father will go and she will go with him. You can scarcely remain by yourself, can you?"

"Are you all mad or in league to ruin me? Why, to go away at such a moment would be----" The tragedy of such a prospect was obviously too terrible to be put in words.

"But the Court will prefer you to be away for a time," I said rising. "Our letter to the Emperor did all that we hoped, and the Imperial marriage is now definitely settled. The happy pair will be among the guests to-night to witness your triumph. I hope it will be great enough even to satisfy you."

She was a singular girl. She showed her lovely teeth in a smile, cast down her eyes, sighed, and then looked up and held out her hand. "I didn't understand you at first. Of course you mean that I should show that I really do feel the separation keenly. Oh, I wish I had always had some one so clever to advise me."

"I should not break my heart if I were you," I replied gravely.

She flashed a quick glance at me. "I shall get over it; but don't you think we might contrive to let it leak out that, if I really must go, it is because I am so--so upset."

"We can try," I laughed.

"You have a knack of putting things so nicely, Herr Bastable," she said as we shook hands. "Do that if you can for me. Oh, by the way, there's a letter for you from Althea. I quite forgot it."

It was only a line to say that she had gone out to her father and intended to bring him back with her; and she hinted that until we knew more of his feeling toward me it might be better for me not to see him. Would I wait for her return?

I set off to see Bassett and get the papers which I had given him over night, and then hurried on all the preparations for my leaving the city. I went two or three times to see if Althea had returned, but it was not until quite late in the evening that I saw her.

"I was sure you would understand my going off to my father," she said when we met.

"Of course. It is just what I would have had you do. How is he?"

"Surprisingly well. Just like himself; but I have persuaded him to go to bed. Besides, I thought you would rather tell me all there is to tell alone. I am dying to know it all. I never passed such a day of suspense in my life."

"It is all just what you would wish it to be, except perhaps in one respect. I'll tell you that presently;" and I went on with a long description of everything except the truth about Heir Ziegler's murder.

She put many questions, and insisted upon having all the details, her tell-tale face showing how intense was her interest.

"And now what is there I shall not like?" she asked at length.

I looked very grave. "It is about you and----"

I paused and appeared reluctant to speak of it. "I tried very hard to arrange so that---- You will give me credit for having done my best in your interests, I'm sure; but----"

"What is it?" she cried impatiently.

I sighed and then asked hesitatingly: "It was made a sort of condition you know, and although he was willing to leave everything else to you, I couldn't get any relief."

"But what is it?" she cried again.

"I scarcely like to---- It's so difficult that---- But I'm afraid you'll have to--to give in. You know how hard I tried to save you from that--well, from von Felsen; but--I don't like putting it on the ground that it would help me; but it would really mean that. Would that marriage----?" I paused as if in great embarrassment.

"Tell me. This is cruel," she said quickly.

"Could you make the sacrifice?"

"You said he had left the country."

"I wasn't speaking of----"

She did not let me finish. She laid her hand on my arm and looked up all smiles and blushes into my eyes. "It would serve him right if I refused, sir. To frighten me like this!"

"Does the condition frighten you then?"

She crept into my arms and laid her head on my shoulder with a little sigh.

There was no need for any other answer; and we were nearly caught in this silent enjoyment of our victory by Chalice, who came rustling in to tell us of hers.

"It's been an absolute triumph," she announced boisterously. "The Kaiser was so delighted with my voice that he sent for me to say that he should pardon the Baron on my account. He is the loveliest man in the world."

And to this hour she believes that it was that and that only which had secured the Imperial clemency.

THE END

Butler & Tanner, The Selwood Printing Works, Frome, and London

* * * * *

_BY THE SAME AUTHOR._

WHEN I WAS CZAR.

The _Daily Chronicle_ says:--"It is something to manage a complicated plot, just as it is something to drive a tandem, or a coach and four. Mr. Marchmont drives his team handsomely, and lovers of sensations and thrills will thank him duly."

The _Court Circular_ says:--"There is always something supremely audacious about Mr. Marchmont's books. This, however, I will say, that for a long evening's solid enjoyment 'When I was Czar' would be hard to beat."

The _Nottingham Guardian_ says:--"The best story of political intrigue which has been written since 'The Prisoner of Zenda,' with which it compares for the irresistible buoyancy by which it is told and the skill in which expectation is maintained on tiptoe till the last move."

The _Freeman's Journal_ says:--"A very brilliant work, every page in it displays the dramatic talent of the author and his capacity for writing smart dialogue."

The _Birmingham Post_ says:--"A story well worth reading. It is in reality a thrilling and exciting adventure, which the reader, once he has taken up, will be indisposed to lay aside unfinished."

BY SNARE OF LOVE.

The _Dundee Courier_ says:--"To say that the clever author of 'When I was Czar' has eclipsed that stirring romance is to bring one within the sphere of the incredible. But it is true. The present novel is full to overflowing of boundless resource and enterprise, which cannot but rouse even the most blase of readers."

The _Daily Mail_ says:--"The story is undoubtedly clever. Mr. Marchmont contrives to invest his most improbable episodes with an air of plausibility, and the net result is an exciting and entertaining tale."

The _Birmingham Post_ says:--"Mr. Marchmont creates numerous thrilling situations which are worked out with dramatic power, his description of the interior of a Turkish prison, with all its horrors, being a realistic piece of work."

The _Morning Post_ says:--"The book contains plenty of adventure and excitement, and gives a further illustration of the author's dauntless imagination."

IN THE CAUSE OF FREEDOM.

The _Times_:--"Mr. Marchmont's tales always have plenty of go. He is well up to his standard in this busy and exciting narrative."

The _Globe_:--"Mr. A. W. Marchmont can always write an exciting story bristling with adventures and hazard, and incidents of all sorts. 'In the Cause of Freedom' furnishes a good example of his talent. Vivid, packed with drama, with action that never flags, this novel ought to appeal successfully to all lovers of romantic and spirited fiction."

_Aberdeen Free Press_:--"This is another of Mr. Marchmont's clever stories of adventure in Russia and is further proof of his ability to weave a complicated plot in which thrilling situations are worked out with dramatic power. The Author has succeeded in upholding his reputation--not an easy task when his former achievements are considered."

The _People's Saturday Journal_:--"It is an admirable example of the type of exciting fiction for which Mr. Marchmont is justly famous, and lacks nothing in the way of plot and incident."

THE QUEEN'S ADVOCATE.

The _Daily News_ says:--"Written in a vigorous manner, adventures throng the pages, and the interest is maintained throughout."

The _Belfast Northern Whig_ says:--"As one book follows another from Mr. Marchmont's pen we have increased breadth of treatment, more cleverly constructed plots and a closer study of human life and character. His present work affords ample evidence of this."

The _Sheffield Telegraph_ says:--"When we say that 'The Queen's Advocate' is as good as 'By Right of Sword,' we have said practically all that need be said in its praise. Once more Mr. Marchmont takes us away to those Balkans that he knows so well."

A COURIER OF FORTUNE.

The _Daily Telegraph_ says:--"An exciting romance of the 'cloak and rapier.' The fun is fast and furious; plot and counterplot, ambushes and fightings, imprisonment and escapes follow each other with a rapidity that holds the reader with a taste for adventure in a state of more or less breathless excitement to the close. Mr. Marchmont has a spirited manner in describing adventure, so that we pass on from incident to incident, each of them having its part in the development of affairs which culminate in the death of the 'Tiger of Morvaix.'"

The _Bristol Mercury_ says:--"The author's characters are drawn with such art as to make each a distinct personality. Gabrielle is a girl whose wits grow sharper in the emergency of the man she loves. 'A Courier of Fortune' is quite one of the liveliest books we have read."

BY WIT OF WOMAN.

The _Morning Leader_ says:--"A stirring tale of dramatic intensity, and full of movement and exciting adventure. The author has evolved a character worthy to be the wife of Sherlock Holmes. She is the heroine; and what she did not know or could not find out about the Hungarian Patriot Party was not worth knowing."

The _Standard_ says:--"Mr. Marchmont is one of that small band of authors who can always be depended upon for a distinct note, a novel plot, an original outlook. 'By Wit of Woman' is marked by all the characteristic signs of Mr. Marchmont's work."

THE LITTLE ANARCHIST.

The _Scotsman_ says:--"A romance, brimful of incident and arousing in the reader a healthy interest that carries him along with never a pause--a vigorous story with elements that fascinate. In invention and workmanship the novel shows no falling off from the high standard of Mr. Marchmont's earlier books."

The _Irish Independent_:--"It is in every way worthy of Mr. Marchmont's previous productions. He has treated the dialogue and descriptive matter in his usual brilliant style, the plot is well developed, and the reader's interest being secured in the opening chapter is held throughout to the end."

_Manchester City News_ says:--"It is no whit behind its predecessors in stirring episode, thrilling situation and dramatic power. The story grips in the first few lines and holds the reader's interest until 'finis' is written."

The _Sheffield Telegraph_ says:--"The reader once inveigled into starting the first chapter is unable to put the book down until he has turned over the last page."