Front matter

Cover

AN

IMPERIAL MARRIAGE

BY

ARTHUR W. MARCHMONT

AUTHOR OF "BY RIGHT OF SWORD," "WHEN I WAS CZAR," ETC.

ILLUSTRATED

WARD, LOCK & CO., LIMITED LONDON, MELBOURNE AND TORONTO 1909

CONTENTS

CHAP.

The "Imperial Marriage"

Complications

Chalice

Ephraim Ziegler

Althea's Story

A Stroke of Luck

Preliminary Steps

Trapped

A Perilous Crisis

In the Hands of the Police

My Return

Murder

In the House of Death

The Murderer

Baron von Ringheim

My Rôle as a Conspirator

"W. Mischen's" Warehouse

The Luck Turns

Von Felsen Gains his End

A Bride Elect

Like a Dog at Heel

In Search of the Baron

In the Grip of an Enemy

From Peril to Peril

An Awkward Plight, indeed

A Charge of Murder

Once Again in the Toils

Dragen Again

Just in Time

The End

CHAPTER I

THE "IMPERIAL MARRIAGE"

When the Kaiser planned the marriage between his kinswoman, the Princess von Altenvelt, and his handsome favourite, the Prince von Graven--the "Imperial Marriage," as the Court gossips styled it--there did not appear to be even the remotest possibility that it could ever be any concern of mine.

The news was almost the last I sent through to my paper, the London Newsletter, for I heard of it just before I resigned my position as Berlin Special Correspondent, on succeeding to my uncle's fortune. I had remained on in the capital, ostensibly to give a lift to my successor, my old Varsity chum, Gerald Bassett, but in reality for a reason which no one knew, except my sister, Bessie. And she only guessed it was on Althea's account.

Sisters have a knack of ferreting out these secrets, and I gathered that she had guessed mine because she had dropped more than one hint that Althea, being a great friend of hers, would be very welcome as a sister-in-law.

That was the position when, at a dance one night, Hugo von Felsen told me with a grin on his thin long malicious face that the Imperial Marriage was in danger because Prince von Graven had fallen in love with Althea and she with him.

I had always detested von Felsen, and had only tolerated him in my newspaper days because, as the son of a powerful Minister, Count von Felsen, he could sometimes be tapped for valuable information. The fact that this news came from him made it seem even worse than it was.

"You can see for yourself," he added. "There they are, together. All Berlin knows about it. Look, everybody is watching them"; and his close-set cunning eyes were fixed on my face as if he knew how his words would affect me, and was pleased.

"They are worth looking at, anyhow," I answered, with a shrug of indifference. They were. In my eyes Althea was the most beautiful girl in the room. The type of a lovely brunette, with perfectly moulded features, large lustrous eyes instinct with tenderness and sympathy, and a figure of consummate grace. But then I looked at her with the eyes of a lover. The Prince was also strikingly handsome. Tall, with a soldierly bearing, and as fair as Althea was dark, his face was marred only by the weakness of the mouth.

"We only want the Kaiser himself and the Princess von Altenvelt to complete the picture, eh?" sneered von Felsen with a chuckle of malice. "How his High-and-Mightiness would enjoy the sight! As much as you do, Bastable."

"Yourself, you should say, rather, judging by your looks," I retorted. "It is nothing to me."

"You wouldn't have a chance, if it were," he snapped.

I was not going to let him see how hard I was hit by the news, and as the band struck up then I turned away in search of my partner. This was Chalice Mennerheim; really Althea's niece, although the relationship appeared a little absurd as there was only a year or so between them. I meant to find out from her whether there was any foundation for von Felsen's insinuation.

Chalice had a remarkable voice, and Althea had brought her to Berlin to be trained by Herr Grumpel, the great professor, whose influence at Court was as powerful as his skill in voice culture was great.

After a couple of turns round the room I led her into one of the conservatories. She was very vain and intensely selfish, and would have been really pretty, had it not been for a certain hard, calculating expression in her light blue eyes. They always suggested to me the eyes of an unskilfully painted picture.

I paid her a number of compliments and then led round to the subject of the Prince, observing casually that I had just heard some news about him.

"Tell me," she said, with a quick side glance and a very musical laugh, as she laid her hand on my arm with a little coaxing gesture. "It's awfully wicked, and Althea is always at me about it; but I love scandal. And I'm scarcely twenty yet. What I shall be at thirty makes me shudder. A regular old scandal-monger, I expect."

"You are not shuddering; only smiling and looking very pretty. The Prince thinks you very pretty too, I presume, by the way he was looking at you when you were dancing with him just now."

She laughed again. "What were you going to tell me?"

"They say the Imperial Marriage is in danger because he----" I left the sentence unfinished intentionally.

"Go on. Go on. Because----? Tell me."

"Haven't you noticed anything which would enable you to finish the sentence?"

"You don't mean--Althea?" Her voice sank to a whisper.

I felt a grip at my heart at this confirmation. "Half the people here were watching them just now as they stood together in the centre of the room."

She burst suddenly into a fit of merry, irresponsible laughter. "Isn't it fun?" she cried. I suppose it was, to her. I did not see the humour of it, however.

"There may not be much laughter in it when the Kaiser hears," I growled.

"Ah, the Kaiser!" and she shrugged her shapely shoulders petulantly. "What business has he to turn matchmaker? Why should not the Prince marry whom he pleases? Think what an ugly thing is that Princess von Altenvelt!" She appeared to be quite indignant on Althea's account.

"It would cost the Prince the Emperor's favour and his position at Court," I replied; "and probably he would be packed off to some fever hole in the Colonies on military service. Nice for Althea, that. The Kaiser can be hard when he likes."

"It is unjust! Infamous!" she exclaimed vehemently. "Poor Althea! But you don't think that really? The Kaiser likes him too well."

"He has done it before, remember." Jealousy plays odd pranks with a man. Here was I finding a sort of morbid delight in drawing this gloomy picture, when in reality I wished Althea all the happiness in the world. But the smart of my disappointment was so fresh that I felt positively spiteful for the moment.

Chalice cast her eyes down, and in the pause a partner came to look for her. She threw me a little nod and a smile, as if we had had the pleasantest chat, and flitted off prattling to her partner and making eyes at him as I had seen her make them to a hundred other men before.

I sat on and brooded. I had been a self-centred ass not to have seen things, and a fool to dream that such a girl as Althea would ever give me a second thought. And then with a sigh I resolved to get out of Berlin without loss of time. I was walking off to the smoking room when I came on Althea sitting alone.

"I believe you have actually forgotten that this was our dance, Mr. Bastable," she said with a reproachful look and a smile. She always spoke English, and spoke it remarkably well.

I had forgotten it, and mumbled a lame apology.

"Let us sit out the remainder of it then. I am rather tired. And you look as if the weight of a throne were on your shoulders. Are you worried?"

I dropped into the seat by her side and began to make small talk, although every pulse in my body was leaping with the desire to speak of the feeling that filled my heart.

At length she spoke of Chalice. "You were talking to her just now," she said, "and appeared to be discussing some very grave subject."

I resolved suddenly to get the truth from her. "It was about you, in fact."

"About me?" she asked in surprise.

"I don't know whether you'll think I'm putting my foot in it, but I should like to tell you something."

"What a grave preface!" she said jestingly, but with an earnest look.

I fidgeted uneasily under her gaze. "The fact is, I heard something from von Felsen, and Chalice confirmed it--about you and Prince von Graven."

She pressed her hands together quickly, and a tinge of colour crept up into her cheeks. "Chalice confirmed it?" she repeated. "What did she say?"

"Well, the fact is--you see, when you and the Prince were standing together in the middle of the room a while back, a whole lot of people were staring at you; and--there was a lot of talk as to what the Kaiser would be likely to do when he--when he heard about you two."

I kept my eyes on the ground and felt many parts of a fool in the pause which followed. Then Althea laughed, and I looked up.

"It is a very awkward position, of course; and equally of course you do not quite understand it. I--I meant to tell you and Bessie all about it. I will do so one day. We must be more careful for the future." And again she laughed.

Her laughter nettled me. It ought not to have done so, of course. She could not possibly know how I felt. "If you wish to avoid the Kaiser's anger, you certainly must be. But I am going off to England by the afternoon mail to-morrow," I declared bluntly.

My reference to the Kaiser stopped her laughter, and she looked very grave for a moment. Then she got up. "I must say good-bye to you then, I suppose."

We shook hands; and then to my surprise she added: "I wish I knew what the Kaiser would do. It would let the thing be cleared up."

"I wish you happiness with all my heart," I replied earnestly.

"Thank you, Mr. Bastable. I am sure you do. I should like---- But of course I can't. Good-bye"; and with this she turned away a little abruptly.

I told my sister as we were driving home that I was going to England on the following day, and she guessed at once that Althea was the cause, and got the truth out of me.

"I don't believe it, Paul," was her verdict; "but perhaps the best thing is for you to go away. A change will do you good; and as Aunt Charlotte is coming here I must stay behind." Aunt Charlotte was Mrs. Ellicott, a wealthy, childless widow, who made a great favourite of Bessie and was to leave her her money.

A sleepless night's reflection confirmed me in my resolve to go away, and the next afternoon found me at the station.

Then the unexpected happened. I was looking after my luggage and Bessie had gone off to buy me some papers, when Althea came hurrying up to me.

"Oh, Mr. Bastable, I remembered you would be here. I am in desperate trouble. Will you help me?"

She was pale and, although she smiled, I could see she was trembling with nervous excitement. "Of course I will. Tell me," I replied quickly. To help her, I was ready to toss every plan I had formed into the melting-pot of change.

"I am to be arrested."

"Arrested! You!" I exclaimed in profound astonishment.

She laid her hand on my arm and made a brave effort to smile again. "I think it is on account of--of Prince von Graven." Her voice died down gradually as she said this hesitatingly, until it was little more than a whisper; and her eyes fell.

"And where is he, then?" I blurted out, like the clumsy lout I was.

I guessed of course that the news had reached the Kaiser's ears and he had taken prompt action. But that the Prince should have left her to bear the brunt of the Imperial anger alone in this way was downright cowardice.

"You don't understand, Mr. Bastable," she said, biting her lip. "But I---- Oh, they are following me now. What am I to do?"

I pulled myself together. "Do you mean the police?"

"I don't know. I was on the point of leaving the house when they came. The maid, Lotta, helped me to slip away; but I think they followed me."

"Do they know you well by sight?"

"I think not. I passed one of them outside. I got a cab, but they followed."

"It will be all right. Bessie is here. Don't worry. We'll see you through."

Bessie came hurrying up with an exclamation of surprise at seeing Althea.

"Don't stop to ask any questions, Bess," I said. "Fräulein Korper is in some bother. Take her into one of the waiting-rooms and change cloaks and hats with her. She can come back to me; but you must drive off somewhere in a cab. Get out when you are a mile or so away, and then go home on foot. There isn't a moment to lose. Quick, both of you."

Bessie hurried Althea away almost before I had finished speaking, and I turned to see that my luggage was put back into the cloak-room instead of being registered. I made the excuse that one of the trunks had been forgotten.

Althea returned before I had finished, and I gave her a critical look. My sister had been wearing a long drab driving coat and a very plain, essentially English golf cap; and I could not restrain a smile at the change they effected in Althea. No German would dream of taking their wearer for one of his countrywomen.

She was still nervous, and as she came up she whispered that the men she meant had just entered the station.

A glance in the direction she indicated showed me that I knew one of them--a police agent, named Dormund. Not the one who had seen her, fortunately.

"It will be all right," I said reassuringly. "Now just a touch or two more, and you will pass as English. Put your hair back right out of sight; slip on these sun spectacles, purse up your lip and show as many of your teeth as possible--you know the German cartoon of the average English girl; look as plain and formidable as you can; and only speak to me to snap out a word or so, as if we were quarrelling."

She tried to follow my directions, and I was glad to see her smile in amusement, despite her alarm.

"That's better. I know one of the men, and he will probably come over and speak to me. We are supposed to be brother and sister for a minute or two--he has never seen Bessie--and we are wrangling because you have left one of my trunks behind and caused me to lose the train in consequence. Be looking among those trunks over there, so that you can keep your face averted."

"He is not the man who saw me," she whispered, when I pointed to Dormund, who caught sight of me soon afterwards and came over.

"Why you couldn't see that all the things were brought beats me," I exclaimed in a loud, irritable tone to Althea. "I thought you could be trusted to count as far as four without a mistake. Giving all this infernal trouble. I shall have to go back for it, and so miss the train. Enough to make a man almost swear."

Dormund was now close and had heard much of what I said and was looking intently at Althea.

"Heir Bastable, excuse me," he said.

I turned on him quickly and irritably, and then smiled. "Hullo, Herr Dormund. I wondered who the deuce it was, and was within an ace of venting a bit of temper on you for the interruption. My sister has forgotten a trunk of mine, and now I shall miss the train," I gestured toward Althea. She had her profile toward him, and his face showed me that he had no suspicion.

"Ah, your sister," he said; and raised his hat and looked first at her and then to me as if expecting an introduction. "I heard you were leaving Berlin to-day," he continued, when I did not take the hint. "It is indeed annoying."

A scowl and an angry murmur gave him the measure of my temper. "It's a marvel to me that women can make such blunders," I growled.

"Where are you going?"

"London. And now there's no train till the night mail, and I hate night travelling."

"Have you been long in the station?"

"About half an hour or so. It took my sister that time to find out that she had made any mistake at all"; and I shot another wrathful glance at Althea. There was no doubt about my being in a very bad temper over it.

"Then perhaps you can do me a little service. You know Fräulein Korper, I believe? Have you seen her here within the last few minutes?"

"My dear fellow, I haven't had eyes for anything but my luggage, and not enough eyes to see all that even," I replied with a short angry laugh. "Have you seen anything of Althea Korper here, Bessie?" I called.

"No," she snapped, as irritably as I had spoken before. It was well done.

"Thank you," I replied in the same snappy tone, "I am sorry," I said to Dormund; "don't you know her by sight then?"

"Unfortunately, no."

I lowered my voice. "You're surely not seeking her officially?"

He smiled and threw up his hands, leaving me to infer what I pleased.

"By Jove," I exclaimed. "Can't say I wish you luck, Dormund." Then I turned to the porter. "Here, get these trunks to the cloak-room. I'll drive back for the other and see if I can catch the train after all. Come along, Bessie."

She acted the sulky sister to the life and succeeded in keeping her face almost entirely averted from Dormund.

He remained with me while I got rid of the luggage and then while I chartered the cab; and I began to wonder if after all he had not some suspicion and whether he would let Althea go.

She had kept behind us and when the cab was ready, the door of which Dormund himself held open, she hurried past him and took her seat. He closed the door and stood bareheaded while we drove off.

I drew a breath of relief.

"Will he follow us?" asked Althea nervously.

"Not he. He hasn't a thought of the trick we've played him."

"Oh, Mr. Bastable, how could you do it so naturally? I was positively trembling the whole time."

"You needn't worry about anything now," I said reassuringly. "Try to fix your thoughts on what is to be done next."

"I don't know what to do," she murmured.

Neither did I. Nor did I seem to care. The unexpectedness of it all had taken my breath away. The whole position was so unreal that I was in the clouds.

A few minutes before I had been bent only upon rushing away in search of distraction from the galling rack of my disappointment on her account; and now she had rushed to me in the hour of her trouble, and was by my side, trusting to me to get her out of it all.

I would do it at any cost; but for the moment I was so elated by the proof of her confidence, that I could think of nothing else.

CHAPTER II

COMPLICATIONS

Althea was at first unwilling to go to our house, as such a course might involve us in some way with the authorities; but I would not listen to her objections.

"Let me suggest one precaution," I said as the cab stopped. "That you hold your handkerchief to your face as you enter. We have one German servant, Gretchen, and she had better not recognize you. The other two are English, and will hold their tongues."

She adopted the suggestion, and when we entered the house we found that Bessie had already arrived and had explained that I had missed the train. She kissed Althea and fussed over her in the way girls have, and I could see that she was bursting with curiosity to know everything.

After a few minutes she suggested that I should send a telegram home to say I was not going; and as I saw that she wished to be left alone with Althea, I went off at once. It turned out to be lucky that I did, for Lieutenant von Bernhoff, a man who took a great deal more interest in Bessie than she did in him, was just getting out of a cab as I left the house.

"What has happened, Bastable? I went to the station to see you off, and Dormund told me you weren't going. From what he said I was afraid that something had happened to your sister."

I shut down a smile. "There's nothing the matter. One of my trunks was left behind, and I had to put off my journey. I'm on my way to wire to my people at home. Come with me." He was no favourite of mine, and as a friend of Dormund's, about the last man in Berlin to be trusted with the secret of Althea's presence in the house.

He went with me to send the telegram, and plagued me with a hundred questions about Bessie, the reason for her having to wear spectacles, and so on; and when we reached the house again he wanted to come in and see her.

"You must excuse her to-day, von Bernhoff. The place is all sixes and sevens on account of my intended departure," I said with a shrug.

"You found your lost trunk, I hope? Dormund told me you were in a fine temper about it."

"I am much obliged to him, but he might mind his own business."

"He was minding it in a sense," he replied with a grin. "I had promised to introduce him to your sister. He knows, you know"; and he grinned meaningly.

"A pity you were not there earlier then," I said carelessly, repressing a smile at what would have been the result if he had been.

"I shall bring him some day to introduce him," he declared as we shook hands.

"By all means. He is a good fellow. But not until I get back to Berlin."

"He is awfully keen to know her--now"; and with this somewhat cryptic remark he grinned again and turned away.

I went upstairs wondering curiously whether Dormund had said anything else about the "Bessie" he had seen at the station to start von Bernhoff's suspicions. The complications were beginning already.

But Althea and Bessie appeared to be taking the matter lightly, for a burst of merry laughter from them both rang out as I opened the door.

"Paul of the grave face!" cried Bessie. "Look at him, Althea."

Althea's eyes were shining brightly, and the colour had returned to her cheeks, as I saw when she looked up at my entrance.

"It is good to find you like this," I said.

"It is Bessie. She is wonderful," said Althea.

"There is just no trouble at all," declared Bessie, coming toward me with a light of pleasure dancing in her eyes. "It is the most ridiculous mistake, Paul; and all this bother to-day appears to be the result of it. Shall I tell him?" Althea nodded. "About the Prince von Graven. It isn't Althea he cares for at all. It's Chalice. Althea has let every one believe it, lest Chalice's prospects should be injured."

I started and caught my breath in surprise and almost fierce delight at this wonderful news. But Bessie was a thoughtful little body, and she had placed herself purposely so that Althea should not see the effect upon me; and to give me time to recover myself, she added: "You'll have some tea, won't you, Paul? Ring the bell for another cup."

I turned away and rang the bell, and then with a big effort I choked down my delighted surprise and drew a chair close to the others.

"So it's Chalice, eh?" I asked quietly.

"Of course no one must know it except you two," said Althea.

Bessie laughed mischievously. "Even that doesn't much matter, does it, Paul?"

"It makes no end of a difference," I said gravely. "But why on earth have you allowed the mistake to be made? Both you and Chalice herself let me share it last night, too."

"It is for Chalice's sake," said Althea. "You had just come from her, and I saw what she had told you. You know she is in my care, and that I promised my sister on her death-bed that I would look after her."

"You speak as if she were a child and you a grave and sedate matron, Althea," declared Bessie. "And there can't be more than a year or two between you."

"Three years, Bessie. Chalice is only twenty; and I am her aunt, you know."

We all smiled at this. "But that is no reason why you should get into all this bother on account of the Prince," objected Bessie.

"The simplest thing will be to let the truth be known," I put in.

"Oh no, no," protested Althea vehemently. "Anything but that; at any rate for the present. Herr Grumpel declares her voice will take the whole country by storm; and she is to make her début soon. She has a brilliant future before her, and if she were to incur the displeasure of the Court at such a time it would ruin everything."

"But Prince von Graven won't wish his wife to be a singer," I objected, "even supposing such a marriage were ever sanctioned."

"Chalice declares she will not do a thing to hurt his interests. That is why she will not have a betrothal."

"But what about you, Althea?" cried Bessie indignantly. "Are you to be packed off to prison or out of the country in order that the secret may be kept?"

"It must be kept, Bessie," said Althea very decidedly.

"I think a little plain talk to the Prince would be a good thing," I suggested.

"He thinks only of Chalice, and will not do anything against her wish."

"Something like a deadlock, then," I murmured. If everything was to hinge only on Chalice's wishes, the case promised to be awkward. We were silent for a while, and then I said: "You will be placed in a very ugly fix. We all know what the Kaiser is when any one opposes him. You surely won't go to the extreme of letting yourself be arrested?"

This appeared to alarm her seriously. "No, no. There are other reasons, too," she exclaimed hastily.

"Then your only course is for you to leave the country."

"I can't even leave Berlin while Chalice is here."

"Then take her with you."

"There is Herr Grumpel. If she left now, it would ruin everything."

I tossed up my hands with a smile. The position was impossible.

"Hadn't you better fetch your trunks from the station, Paul?" asked Bessie.

"I'm afraid there's nothing in them that will solve this puzzle."

"At any rate you will not go home now," she retorted meaningly. "And while you go for them, Althea and I can talk things over. I have made up my mind. She must, of course, stay with us for the time."

"No, no," protested Althea. I rose, delighted at the idea.

"We shall have everything settled by the time you're back, Paul."

"There's Gretchen, remember," I replied as I went out of the room.

I walked to the station and started to think things over, but there was one thought which for the time crowded out all others. Althea was not in love with the Prince! Thank Heaven for that. And compared with that, nothing mattered. I would find some way out of the tangle, and in the meantime--well, I could hope again. And then I began dreaming and planning with the sanguine vanity of a man very much in love and once more able to hope for the best.

Dormund was still at the station, and met me as I entered. "Ah, Herr Bastable, going on your journey after all?"

"Not to-night. I don't travel at night if I can help it."

"Well that is perhaps as well. It will give you more time. All passports have to be viséd afresh. But of course I can see to that for you, if you like."

"Why's that? Anything happened?"

"It would interest you if you were still on your paper. Trouble with those cursed Poles again. A plot to rob one of the Imperial couriers of his papers. We had news from Koln and prevented it; but some of the scoundrels are known to be here in Berlin, and we are watching for them. If we were to behead a few of them it would save a lot of trouble."

"There would be so many less to make the trouble, anyway," I replied carelessly. "Do you know the people in it?"

"I know who is at the bottom of it, and so do you; for you have written about him often enough. That Baron von Ringheim. There's no proof, of course; there never is; but proof or no proof, I'd put him in safe keeping if I had my way. He's the most dangerous man in Europe to our Government."

"I think you have him on the brain, Dormund," I laughed.

"I'd rather have him under lock and key," he retorted almost angrily. "But get the evening paper; you will see something about it there."

I had heard a good deal about this Baron von Ringheim. He had been banished many years before for some offence against the Government, and his estates had been confiscated. He was believed to have allied himself with all parties who had grievances against the Government; had been very active in the work of sedition; and was credited with having originated a policy of combination among them for the common purpose of discrediting the Government. The policy had been very successful, with the result that, whenever a daring coup of any sort was made or attempted, he was credited with the responsibility.

"Then I suppose I owe it to the Baron that if I go to-morrow I must get my passport viséd," I replied after a pause.

"Yes; but of course it will only be a form in your case. By the way, Lieutenant Bernhoff was here after you left this afternoon. He came to bid you good-bye, he said; but I suppose it was more to see your sister. He tells me he has hopes some day of----eh?" and he smiled insinuatingly.

"One never knows what may happen, Dormund."

"He is a good fellow, and rich. He would have done me the honour to present me to your sister this afternoon. You may have seen that I was very interested in her."

"We must find another occasion then. I am sure the pleasure will be mutual," I said with a smile, the meaning of which he fortunately did not understand.

"You are very good." He was pleased at the compliment.

I assumed a more confidential air. "By the way, Dormund, I've been thinking a good deal about that arrest you were after--of Fräulein Korper."

"You know her well?"

"She is a very great friend of my sister." I managed to suggest more than the words implied and he smiled. "I can't bring myself to think of her as a criminal of any sort. It took my breath away."

"Of course I can't tell you anything I know officially, but there can be no harm in my saying that the arrest was ordered from Count von Felsen's office."

"I'm not after newspaper copy," I laughed. "But it bewildered me."

At that moment some one came up to him and he excused himself. I bought the evening paper and drove off home with my trunks.

I had not learnt much in regard to Althea, but the fact that the arrest had been ordered from Count von Felsen's office might mean that it was connected with her supposed relations with Prince von Graven. It was certainly unusual, and the Kaiser's hand might well be in the background.

Then I read the account of the affair Dormund had spoken of. It read very much like one of the Baron's coups. The courier had been in possession of some very important State papers, and these had all but fallen into the hands of those who had attempted to steal them. The same thing had been done more than once before, I knew. The object was to get hold of such things, and then make them public at the moment when they would do the greatest damage.

At the present time the Kaiser's naval policy was the target at which they were striking, and the temper of the people was in such a ticklish condition that any well-aimed blow might hamper those in power dangerously. If the old Baron was at the bottom of it, he was certainly a very astute tactician. And if I knew anything of the feelings of the authorities, he and his friends would have a very bad time of it if they were caught.

I was folding up the paper when I had a very ugly shock. I caught the name, "ALTHEA KORPER," in bold type in the centre of a police notice.

It was an advertisement announcing her flight, seeking information about her, and warning all who connived at her escape or gave her shelter that they would render themselves liable to prosecution. To this was added a minute and detailed description.

This was something indeed. It threw a fresh light upon the reason for the arrest. It was impossible to believe that so drastic a step as this would be taken merely because of the affair with the Prince. There must be more behind than I had thought.

Even the Kaiser would not go to the length of setting the police to hound down a girl merely because a man had fallen in love with her, and a Court marriage scheme threatened to go wrong in consequence. The idea was simply preposterous.

But what could the arrest mean then? I must see if Althea could throw any light on it, and warn her. We should have to steer a very careful course, or there would be serious trouble. That was certain.

I tore the notice out of the paper and put it in my pocket, and when I reached home I was careful not to show the real concern I felt.

"I have persuaded Althea to remain with us for a time, Paul," declared Bessie.

"Good. As a matter of fact it would be a little difficult for you to leave Berlin for a day or two," I said to Althea, as lightly as I could. "There has been some bother with the recalcitrant Polish party"; and I went on to give the gist of my talk with Dormund.

"Can I see the paper?" she asked. "I am a Pole, you remember."

I had not remembered it, and the coincidence struck me forcibly. I gave her the paper, and said I would see about my luggage while she read it.

"Don't go, please, Mr. Bastable. I have something to tell you," she said, looking up from the paper. "About this. I must go away at once."

"No, no, Althea," declared Bessie. "We shan't let you go, shall we, Paul?"

"I will tell you, and you will see that I must. You know what is here about the Baron von Ringheim, Mr. Bastable. This is evidently the reason for my arrest. I have misled every one. I did it for Chalice's sake. My name is not Korper at all; it is that"--and she pointed to the paper--"von Ringheim. I am his daughter. Now you will understand why I must hide."

There was a pause. I looked at Bessie, and our eyes met.

I took the police advertisement from my pocket and handed it to her in silence. She read it at a glance, and read also my meaning--that I would not let her decide what to do without knowing all the facts.

She gave it back to me with a smile.

"While you were at the station, Paul, I had a quarrel with Gretchen. She was insolent, so I discharged her on the spot."

I breathed a sigh of relief. She was with me in the resolve to stand by Althea, let the consequences be what they might.

CHAPTER III

CHALICE

We had great difficulty in persuading Althea to remain with us, and should not have succeeded if Bessie had not put on her hat and vowed that she would go with her wherever she went. Then we came to a compromise--Althea was to stay that night and decide on her plans the next morning.

By that time I had induced Chalice to try and clear away one at least of the tangles by letting the facts be told about the Prince von Graven, and to get the Prince himself to ascertain the real cause for the steps against Althea.

I sent a note to him, hinting at the reason why I wished to see him immediately, and he answered the letter in person. He professed himself greatly distressed at what had occurred; but it had not suggested itself to him that he should remedy matters by acknowledging the truth.

"I will be frank with you, Mr. Bastable. The greatest pressure has been put upon me to induce me to abandon my--to consent to my betrothal to the Princess von Altenvelt; and this is apparently the result of my refusal."

"But do you seriously think a drastic step like this would be taken on such a slight foundation?" I objected.

"I haven't thought about that. It is drastic, isn't it? But you know the Emperor is liable to fits of temper."

"The order for the arrest issued from the office of Count von Felsen; will you make inquiries as to its real reason?"

"Of course I will. The Minister and I are unfortunately at daggers drawn. He is jealous of the favour with which the Emperor honours me. I will do all I can."

"There is certainly one other thing you can do, Prince!" He began to fidget uneasily at this. "I mean explain the mistake and that it is Fräulein Chalice Mennerheim whom you desire to marry."

"My dear sir, I would marry her to-morrow; but she will not have even an open betrothal. What can I do?" Where Chalice was concerned he was obviously like clay in the hands of the potter.

"I am going to see her at once," I said as I rose.

"If you can prevail with her, you will do me the greatest favour in the world," he exclaimed eagerly, grasping my hand with warmth.

I went off then to see Chalice, leaving the Prince to go to Althea. It required very slight discernment to see that we should do little with him. He had his own battle to fight at Court, and that was more than sufficient to monopolize all the firmness he possessed. And I expected but little more help from Chalice.

An incident, to which I attached no significance at the time, occurred as I entered the house of Frau Steiner, where Althea and Chalice had their lodgings. I gave my card to the servant, and she took it first into a room leading off the hall, and then carried it upstairs. While I was waiting, a dark, striking-looking Jewess came out as if to leave the house. She stopped suddenly, surprised to see me still in the hall, hesitated, and then returned quickly to the room.

I knew her by sight. Her name was Hagar Ziegler. She was the daughter of a money-lender whose shady methods I had had to investigate on more than one occasion while I had been on the Newsletter. I was called upstairs to Chalice a moment later, and thought no more of the incident.

I had not expected to find Chalice very concerned about Althea, and was not therefore surprised when she received me as calmly as though I were making just an ordinary call.

"This is a delightful surprise, Herr Bastable," she exclaimed with a lovely smile, as she gave me her hand. "But you catch me in deshabille. I was practising." As a matter of fact she was rather elaborately gowned, and I knew she was very particular in such matters. There was very little of the girl about Chalice.

"I should ask your pardon for coming at such an hour and without notice; but I have come about Fräulein Korper."

"About Althea? Oh, that is good of you. Of course I've been terribly anxious about her. And worry is so bad for the voice."

"I sympathize with you, I am sure."

Her sense of humour was not keen, and she accepted this as quite genuine. "Everyone is so good to me," she murmured. "And where is Althea?"

"Do you not know what occurred yesterday afternoon?"

"I was at Herr Grumpel's all the afternoon--I had a most trying lesson. He was in a horrible temper, and it quite put me out. Well, when I came home, Althea was gone, instead of having some tea ready for me. And when I asked where she was, that stupid girl, Lotta, said something nonsensical about the police having been here. Such rubbish, of course."

"Unfortunately, it was quite true. An attempt was made to arrest her."

"Herr Bastable! You don't mean it!" Surprise, no other feeling in this. No grief, no concern even. "Whatever for?" As if it had been Althea's fault.

"It was on your account," I said bluntly. "Because of the mistake you have allowed people to make in regard to the Prince von Graven."

She was not in the least embarrassed. "So you know that. I am so glad. It is such a relief not to have to keep these tiresome secrets from one's friends. I couldn't tell you before, could I? You see, it was Althea's secret as much as mine. And the Prince's, too. He is so devoted to me. And such a sweet man."

"You don't appear to grasp the real gravity of the matter, I'm afraid."

"Oh, that is unkind! Of course I do. I wouldn't have dear Althea get into any trouble on my account for the world!"

"Then of course you will let the truth as to the Prince be known at once."

"Herr Bastable!" Eyes, expression, voice, gestures, everything eloquent of indignant surprise at the suggestion. "Why, then they might arrest me!"

"On the contrary, the Prince is eager to marry you at once."

"But my voice. My début! You don't understand. Herr Grumpel declares that I shall make such a reputation as----" She threw up her hands as though it were impossible to estimate the fame awaiting her. "How can you be so cruel? Besides, it would ruin the Prince with the Emperor. You would not have him ruined just for poor little me!"

I was fast losing patience. "It is rather a question whether you are to ruin Fräulein Althea by keeping silence."

Her features drew together as if she were going to cry. "Do you mean that Althea wishes this? That she would selfishly sacrifice my future in this way?"

"She may be in very serious danger if it should be known that she is the daughter of Baron von Ringheim."

"But who is likely to tell that?" she asked with an air of quite artless innocence; and then added quickly: "Besides, in that case it would be of no use to say anything about the Prince."

It was useless to break oneself against the wall of such selfishness as this, so I tried a different argument. "Let me show you one way in which you can turn this matter to your own great advantage." All sign of tears passed away instantly. "Your future depends upon your securing the favour of the Court. Now, if you were to submit yourself to the Emperor's will in the matter of the Imperial marriage and sacrifice your wishes in regard to the Prince because you have just heard of the Imperial desires, His Majesty would highly appreciate your self-sacrifice; the whole country would ring with your romantic self-denial; and you would gain a bigger advertisement for your début than any singer ever enjoyed in this Empire."

She saw all this in a flash, and her eyes shone with the light of ambitious desire. "Oh, Herr Bastable! But do you think it could be done?"

"Shall I make some inquiries? I have friends on whom I can rely."

"Oh, you would be the best friend a poor lonely girl could have in the world. But we must be quite certain first, mustn't we?"

"You would lose the man you love, remember."

She sighed and cast down her eyes, a picture of beautiful resignation. "It would be terrible," she murmured. "But there is dear Althea to think of, isn't there? It is, perhaps, my duty."

She pressed my hand warmly at parting, and urged me to come again as soon as I had any news to bring; and before I left the house, I heard her rich melodious voice ring out. She had resumed her practice.

As I closed the front door behind me I saw Hagar Ziegler again. She was now in close conversation with Hugo von Felsen; and as I did not wish him to know of my visit to Chalice at such a time, I walked off in the opposite direction.

He had seen me, however, and presently came hurrying after me. "Ah, Herr Bastable! It is you then," he said as he reached me. "How did you find the ladies?"

"I don't know that I am much concerned to tell you," I answered curtly.

"Has Fräulein Althea returned? Isn't that an extraordinary affair?"

"I really have no time to discuss gossip with you."

"I think it will be worth your while," he replied meaningly. "I heard of your change of plans, too, when you were actually at the station. My friend Bernhoff told me. He is a grand fellow, Bernhoff."

"A testimonial from you is certainly a strong recommendation," I replied as nastily as I could speak.

But he only smiled and spread out his hands. "I'm afraid you are still angry with me on account of that chat of ours the other night at the Ohlsen's dance--about Fräulein Althea. But I'm not a fellow to bear malice. And you know, as every one knows, how intensely I admire her."

"I don't care a hang whether you bear malice or not."

"You are very difficult, Bastable; but really I wish to be your friend, and to warn you. People are talking about you."

"Let them talk then."

"This visit to this house here on the morning after Fräulein Althea's disappearance; your sudden change of plans yesterday; the hurried visit of Prince von Graven to your house this morning. These things cause questions"; and he gave me a very sly significant smile.

"As you appear to be asking them, the best thing you can do is to answer them in your own way. Good-morning"; and with that I turned on my heel.

But although I could get rid of him, I could not so easily shake off the unpleasant impression his words had made. He had certainly been spying on me. Why? Could he have any suspicion of the truth?

The more I considered matters, the closer appeared to be von Felsen's connexion with them. It was he who had first told me of the Prince's supposed love for Althea; he had hinted at the probable effect of the Kaiser's anger; it was from his father's office that the order for the arrest had come; and as he was in that office, it was highly probable, almost certain, indeed, that on the night of the dance he had already known it was to be made.

The thing looked like cause and effect; but then there was the fact that he had laid stress on his admiration for Althea. He could not wish to see a girl he cared for in the rough clutches of the police. The thing was absurd.

It was a fair presumption, however, that he was trying to find her. His knowledge of the Prince's visit to me that morning showed that some one was shadowing the Prince, and the spy had carried the news straight to von Felsen. I had certainly blundered badly in letting the Prince come to Althea's hiding-place.

He had known also of my visit to Chalice; and then it occurred to me that Hagar Ziegler had been used for that purpose. The Steiners were Jews, and she might well be a friend. I recalled her manner when she had come hurrying out as I stood in the hall. She had been going to leave the house. Was it to carry word to him, and had she brought him there to wait for me when I left?

The whole business was a very ugly complication, and the best thing would be for us to smuggle Althea out of Berlin while I set to work to straighten it out.

I returned home, both puzzled and ill at ease, to report the result of my interview with Chalice; and Bessie met me with news of another twist in the skein.

"Aunt Charlotte has arrived, Paul," she said, with a very long face.

"The deuce! Why she wasn't to come for a week or so."

"Well, she's here anyway. You'd better come up to her room and see her at once"; and she turned and ran upstairs. "She does these odd things, you know."

My aunt was a particularly nervous person, and about the last we wanted to have in the house at such a time. I followed Bessie, wondering what sort of explanation of Althea's presence I could make.

"Have you told her about Althea?" I asked.

"She will only think she is staying with us in the ordinary way," replied Bessie, pausing with her hand on the door-knob. "And you'd better be careful. She has one of her headaches after the travelling. You know what she is at such times."

She was lying on the sofa with her back to the light, her long greyish curls straggling over her shoulder, and a handkerchief pressed to her brows.

"I am sorry to hear you have a bad headache after your journey, Aunt Charlotte," I said as I tiptoed across to her couch.

She gave a faint little moan of pain, and held out three fingers in a way I knew well. I just touched them. "I am very glad to see you," I murmured, as she withdrew them quickly.

"Don't make a noise, Paul," said Bessie, as she knelt down by the sofa. A most unnecessary caution, for I was not moving. "Men are so rough, are they not, aunt? Shall I bathe your head, dear? Get the scent, Paul. On the mantelpiece."

I tiptoed to the other end of the room, and Bessie called "Hush!" in a very aggressive whisper.

As I turned, bottle in hand, I noticed that they were both shaking with what looked uncommonly like suppressed laughter; and as I reached the sofa again, Bessie got up giggling. Then I understood and joined in the laughter, and "Aunt Charlotte" let me see her face.

"You ought to have known her hand, Paul," cried Bessie. "One would suppose you had never seen it before."

"All right. Grin away. You had me. Those curls took me in; they are Aunt Charlotte's to the life."

"They may well be. It's the wig she left here last time."

"Is your head too bad to let you stand up so that I can see your dress, 'aunt'?" I asked.

"It is all Bessie's work," said Althea, as she stood up.

"It's great," I agreed. "I believe I should have passed you in the street, and I am sure I should if you had a veil on"; and then Bessie explained how she had been thinking it all out.

"And now, about Chalice? Wasn't she in terrible distress?" asked Althea.

"No. She appeared to think that you would be all right and had not worried in the least."

Bessie coughed significantly and glanced at me. I went on to describe what had passed; and Althea was as firm as ever in her resolve not to do anything which would prejudice Chalice's prospects. I held my tongue about the last argument I had used with Chalice.

"I've seen others beside Chalice," I said presently. "Hugo von Felsen. I have the idea that he is in some way mixed up in this. Can you tell me of any reason why he would be likely to take a hand?"

Althea paused a second and then looked up with a smile. "He wishes me to marry him. He has asked me more than once; and the only benefit I ever had from the supposed attentions of the Prince was a relief from his. Why does that make you look so serious?" she asked with another smile, seeing my grave look.

"I am thinking."

"It's a big effort for Paul," bantered Bessie.

I gestured impatiently. "Tell me, do you think it possible he can have guessed your secret--about your father, I mean?"

"Yes, he knows it. Why do you ask that?"

"Because things are forcing me to the conclusion that in some way or other he is at the bottom of all the trouble. I don't understand it yet; but I will before long, if I have to drag it out of him by force."

But I would not alarm them by saying anything of von Felsen's suspicions that Althea was with us.

I knew it well enough now, however, and recognized to the full the danger which it boded.

CHAPTER IV

EPHRAIM ZIEGLER

Althea's statement--that von Felsen had pressed her to marry him--made it plain to me that he was pulling the strings in everything; although why he should endeavour to secure her arrest in order to further his purpose, baffled me.

If his motive were jealousy, however, it was possible that he would call a halt when he learnt the truth about the Prince. I urged Althea to let me tell him, but she would not. Her quixotic regard for Chalice stood in the way. Nor would she adopt the alternative advice I tendered--that "Aunt Charlotte" should leave Berlin as secretly and mysteriously as she had arrived.

Nothing was left for me, therefore, but to cast about for some other means of dealing with von Felsen. In the meantime I knew he would lose no time in confirming his suspicions as to Althea's whereabouts.

This was soon made plain. I was speaking to Bessie when von Bernhoff's card was brought to us; and when he was shown up, von Felsen was with him. Von Bernhoff introduced him to Bessie, and he made himself insinuatingly polite to her.

A lot of small talk followed: a good deal of it about my interrupted journey; and von Bernhoff asked if I was going on the following day.

"I don't think Aunt Charlotte will let you go, Paul," said Bessie, who was as cool and self-possessed as possible.

"Frau Ellicott has come then?" said von Bernhoff, who had known of the intended visit. "I shall be glad to see her again. She is a charming lady."

"She arrived this morning," said Bessie in the most matter of fact tone.

"You should see Frau Ellicott," said von Bernhoff to von Felsen, who had pricked up his ears at this. "She is a perfect type of an English lady."

"I shall hope for the honour of being presented," he smirked.

"She will be delighted, I am sure. Lieutenant von Bernhoff is a favourite of hers, and any friend of his may count upon her good graces." I thought Bessie was carrying things a bit too far; but von Felsen was keeping an eye on me, and I could not warn her. "To-day she has a bad headache. You may remember how a journey upsets her."

"Ah yes, indeed"; and von Bernhoff shrugged his shoulders with a gesture of commiseration. "I remember too how interested she was in Fräulein Chalice Mennerheim. More than once she has spoken to me in raptures about her voice."

"She is passionately fond of music and used to be a great singer herself," was Bessie's absolutely composed reply.

"This news about Fräulein Korper will interest her greatly, then," interjected von Felsen; and I saw why Chalice's name had been dragged in so clumsily.

Bessie was on the point of replying when we heard footsteps in the room overhead, and the sound of some one singing the jewel song from Faust. Then the door above was opened and the voice sounded nearer. The singer came downstairs.

"One of Fräulein Chalice's songs," said von Felsen, with a grin.

Bessie rose. She was quite cool. "Aunt Charlotte must be better, Paul. I'll go and see if she will not come down to see Lieutenant von Bernhoff."

Von Felsen hastened to open the door for her, and took the opportunity of glancing up the stairs. "She has a young voice, your aunt," he said to me as he closed the door behind Bessie.

"She is no longer a young woman, as you will see."

"If she is well enough to come to us," he retorted meaningly.

"At any rate her headache is better," grinned von Bernhoff; and then we sat in silence until Bessie returned, laughing merrily.

"A most ridiculous mistake, Paul. I don't know how we could be so stupid. It was Ellen singing--our maid, you know," she added to the others. "Aunt Charlotte opened the door to tell her to be quiet. She is very angry at having been woke up."

Then came another mishap. The two men were murmuring their obviously insincere regrets when Ellen entered and said the Prince von Graven wished to see me.

"Show him up," I said, with a sort of feeling that nothing mattered now.

Von Felsen gave such a leer of triumph that I could have kicked him. "He is, indeed, an ultimate friend of yours, Bastable. Two visits in one day"; and with that the two men went, meeting the Prince on the landing.

"I could almost cry with vexation," whispered Bessie.

"It's too serious for tears, Bess. Was Althea coming down here?"

She nodded. "I was just in time to stop her."

"She might almost as well have come," I grunted. "You had better leave me alone with the Prince. Try and persuade Althea to make a bolt of it."

The interview with the Prince was very short. Eagerness to learn the result of my visit to Chalice had brought him together with the desire to tell me he had found out that the arrest was not ordered by the Kaiser, who knew nothing about it. I told him what had passed between Chalice and myself.

"I was afraid of it; but of course she must have her own way," he declared feebly.

"Do you think she has the right to ruin Fräulein Althea, then?"

"It is most perplexing, baffling. I do not see what to do."

"Not to tell the truth is simply cowardly," I said with some warmth.

"Herr Bastable!" and he drew himself up to his full height.

"To place one woman in danger merely for another woman's caprice is cowardly, Prince von Graven. And you are chiefly responsible."

"Do you speak in this way with Fräulein Althea's sanction?"

"On the contrary, she is all too willing to sacrifice herself."

"Then it is scarcely pertinent to the matter."

"Pertinent or impertinent, it is the truth," I declared bluntly, disgusted at his indifference to Althea's welfare.

"Are you seeking to force a quarrel upon me, sir?"

"No. I am merely trying to rouse you to do what you ought to do."

"I am the best judge of that."

"Then we may as well end the interview"; and I threw open the door.

He was bursting with indignation. "I am extremely disappointed in you, Herr Bastable."

"A mutual feeling, I assure you, Prince"; and I bowed him out.

I was glad to be rid of him. His news--that the arrest was not at the Kaiser's bidding--confirmed my belief that I must deal with von Felsen as the chief instigator, and I must lose no time in getting to work to checkmate him.

I knew a good deal about him. He had lived a wastrel, dissipated life, and was deep in the hands of the Jews; and the fact that I had seen him with Hagar Ziegler led me to think I could get from her father what I wanted--something discreditable which would enable me to pull him up short.

Old Ephraim Ziegler was under a considerable obligation to me. During my newspaper work I had refrained from taking a certain line in regard to a very dirty transaction in which he was concerned, and had saved the old Jew from being prosecuted. He knew this, and had more than once expressed himself anxious to show me some practical appreciation of that service.

I was shown at once into his office, and he received me with more than unctuous servility.

"Ah, Herr Bastable, this is indeed an honour," he said, rubbing his fat hands together while his beady eyes searched my face in doubt whether I had again come to undo some of his questionable work.

"So you haven't forgotten me?"

"Forgotten you!" he cried, spreading wide his arms. "You are one of the only friends poor Ephraim Ziegler ever had. You come on business? A little money, eh?"

I shook my head. "Oh no, not that."

This disconcerted him somewhat. He jumped to the conclusion that it must be something unpleasant. I let him think that for a while and, referring to one of the former cases, hinted that I had come to warn him, and that something had been discovered which might mean trouble for him. But I ended with an assurance that personally I would not do anything against him. Then I rose as if to leave.

He trembled and was very frightened; his flabby cheeks paled, and his voice shook as he pressed me to stay. "It is such an honour you do me," he declared. Thus pressed, I resumed my seat, and we chatted about a number of matters until I brought the talk round to von Felsen, mentioning his name casually among several others. "He's one of the flies in your web, you old spider," I laughed.

"He owes me a lot of money, that young man," he said. It was his habit to gloat over his cunning in such matters. "But it will be all right in the end."

"Where's he to get it from to pay you? Not from his father."

"Not from his father; that is true. But he will get it, he will get it"; and he sat pressing his finger-tips together with such an air of satisfaction that it set me thinking. I remembered that he was a Pole, and had been mixed up once before with one of the Polish schemes.

"There are other things beside money to pay debts with, eh?" I put all the significance I could into the question, and winked at him. "You old fox!"

"You almost make me afraid of you, Herr Bastable. You get to know so much," he answered after a pause, and with a leer intended to flatter me.

"Would you like to know what I do know about this?" I laughed. "Your 'almost' would then be 'quite,' I assure you"; and I rose again as if to leave.

"Oh no, no. Don't go yet," he cried eagerly.

Down I sat again with a shrug as if to please him. "You want to find out how much I do know, eh? But I did not come to discuss politics"--I paused intentionally on the word, and the effect satisfied me--"but just to warn you about that old Martin affair. You can't pump me; but you'd better go carefully in both concerns."

His uneasiness showed that my old experience with him stood me in good stead now. He had a wholesome fear of my sources of information. He paused, hunched up in his chair, and asked suddenly: "Why did you mention Hugo von Felsen's name to me?"

I had an inspiration and resolved upon a shot. I took out my cigarette case, selected one with great care, and as I lit it, looked across at him. "Your daughter is a very handsome girl, Ziegler."

The shot told instantly. "You mean something. Herr Bastable," he cried, leaning forward in his eagerness. "You are my friend. You must tell me. I love my Hagar. She is the light of my life. Tell me," he repeated.

I wished with all my heart that I could; but I could only look as if my secret knowledge would fill an encyclopaedia.

This spurred his eagerness. "Ah, my friend, my dear Herr Bastable, you must tell me," he urged.

I shook my head. "You are a very clever old spider but--some one is blabbing. Look out." It was a safe general sort of shot and added to his mystification. He bit his nails and his eyes rolled from side to side rapidly. It was his way when deeply moved. "Do you mean about Hagar?" he asked at length.

I knew by this that there was something more important than Hagar behind. He would always put the less important consideration in front. "No. It's the other affair; about the----" I broke off, and his eyes fastened on mine as if to read in them the rest of the sentence. "But it's no affair of mine," I added with a shrug. "Why should I bother myself? But don't forget my warning."

"Do you mean we have been betrayed? That there is a spy among us?"

I turned grave for an instant. "I name no names, Ziegler; but some one gave you away the other day when you failed."

The effect of this second shot was startling. "God of my fathers, if I thought it was von Felsen I would----." He clenched his hands in rage.

I was almost as excited as he was, but I took care he should not see it. Von Felsen was mixed up in these Polish schemes; and if I could get at the truth, I should have him in the hollow of my hand. "It wasn't von Felsen," I said to reassure him. "He's too deep in, and too much in your power to chatter. You know that. And I shan't give you away. I have too much sympathy with your cause. But it wasn't von Felsen. I assure you that, although I bear him no good-will."

I had succeeded in convincing him that I knew a lot; and he had not a suspicion that I had been merely guessing on the strength of the hints he himself had dropped. He sat a long time thinking, and was greatly disturbed.

"You have startled me, Herr Bastable; but I know you sympathize with the cause. I know that from what you have written in your paper. But why do you bear ill-will to Hugo?"

"Hugo," eh? He spoke or thought of him by his Christian name. The inference was easy. Von Felsen was playing a double matrimonial game. "When may one offer congratulations, Ziegler?" I asked with a smile. I could afford to smile, for I was winning, hands down.

"It is Hagar's wish. She loves him; and she will be a countess, too."

"Two excellent reasons. And meanwhile you find him useful to get----" Again I broke off the sentence and finished with a knowing smile.

"You are the devil, Herr Bastable," he replied with a laugh.

"Well, it is at least useful to be able to get inside information when very important papers are in the hands of an Imperial messenger, eh?"

"I don't know what you mean by that," he answered, wagging his head.

I affected to take offence. "It's enough for my purposes that I do. Is it worth while to try and fool me? I don't take to it easily, you know."

"I am not trying it," he protested.

"Then don't pretend that von Felsen isn't in all this with you. I know too much. And now, look here, I'll tell you the real object of this visit. Von Felsen is trying a fool's game with me, and it has to stop. I know he daren't go against you, Ziegler, and you daren't go against me; even if your friendship for me were less than it is."

My tone alarmed him. "What is he doing? I have influence with him, of course."

"What he is doing may turn out to touch you pretty closely; but never mind what it is for the present. Give me a line to him--that I am your friend and that anything he does against me is the same as if done against you."

"Of course I will," he consented. He wrote a few lines quickly and handed them to me.

MY DEAR HUGO,--

"Herr Bastable is a great friend of mine. Any service to him is a service to me; and the reverse.

"EPHRAIM ZIEGLER."

"That will do. And now a last word. Not a syllable to him or any one of what has passed between us to-day."

"I give you my honour, my dear Herr Bastable," he agreed readily.

"I shall hear if you talk, mind; and if I do--well I shall take it as a sign that I am to talk on my side. And I shall." I left him with that and walked out of his office on excellent terms with myself.

I was convinced that von Felsen was so tight in the toils that the letter I had obtained would frighten him consumedly. But I little thought of the grim results which were to flow from that afternoon's conversation.

I hurried home as fast as I could, and it was fortunate that I did so. As my cab drew up at the house, I found von Felsen and Dormund at the open door. I saw the move at once, without von Felsen's smug explanation. "Herr Dormund has a question to put to your sister, Bastable, about Fräulein Althea."

"I trust I am not intruding, Herr Bastable," said Dormund apologetically; "but Herr von Felsen tells me Miss Bastable has expressed the wish to give me important information."

"Von Felsen is wrong. My sister does not know any more than I do; but come into my den here and I'll see if she is at home," I replied indifferently.

"Your servant has already told us she is," put in von Felsen.

"Then I'll go and fetch her"; and I handed out my cigars and left them.

It was a tight corner; but of course Dormund must not see Bessie. It would at once reveal the trick I had played him at the station. Yet to deny her after Ellen's admission that she was at home would be the tamest subterfuge which he would see through in a second.

There was only one course: to call von Felsen out, face him with Ziegler's letter and make him get rid of Dormund. I was about to do this when another blow fell.

Ellen came running up to me, white of face and trembling.

"There are a number of police at the door, sir."

A loud knock at that instant confirmed her words.

It was a pretty fix in all truth, and I stood hesitating in perplexity what to do, when the knocking was repeated more insistently.

Obviously there was nothing for it but to admit the police, so I sent Ellen downstairs, and prepared to meet the crisis with as bold a face as possible.

CHAPTER V

ALTHEA'S STORY

I opened the door and found three men there, two of them in police uniform.

"Herr Dormund is here?" asked one of them.

"Yes," I said, and they entered.

"We must see him at once."

"Certainly." I went to the room where Dormund sat with von Felsen. "Some of your men wish to see you, Herr Dormund."

He jumped up quickly, and the next moment I breathed freely again. Instead of fresh trouble, the visit was a rare stroke of luck. He had left word where he was to be found, and the men had come with an urgent message for him to go to the police headquarters at once.

He excused himself to me hurriedly, and a minute later he and the others had left the house. I had scared myself for nothing.

I returned to von Felsen. "Herr Dormund has been recalled to his office. Why did you bring him here?"

"I thought you would like him to be perfectly satisfied that it was your sister whom he saw at the station?" he replied, forcing a laugh.

"You think it wasn't, then?"

He was still laughing maliciously. "He described her as a dark girl."

"And you thought I had misled him, eh?"

"Fräulein Althea is dark," he replied significantly.

"It didn't occur to you, I suppose, that I might have been doing a good turn for any other dark girl. A Jewess, for instance."

"I don't know what you mean."

"A friend of Ephraim Ziegler's, for instance."

"What are you driving at?"

"It's getting near to my turn to laugh, von Felsen."

"Fräulein Althea is in this house," he rapped out sharply. "You helped her to get out of Dormund's clutches at the station, and you are sheltering her here."

"Assume for a moment that she is here--mind you, I don't admit it. But assume it, what were you going to gain by putting Dormund on the track? I want the truth, you know. Suppose you had succeeded in putting her in the hands of the police, how would that help you?"

He rose. "Mind your own business," he said angrily.

"No, it's yours I am minding just now. You are going to stop this hunting down of Fräulein Althea. If you don't I shall turn hunter myself, with you as the quarry. You are not worth quarrelling with, so you needn't trouble yourself to stand sneering there. I shan't take any notice. Just read this."

I handed him the letter which Ziegler had given me. He started nervously as he read it, changed colour, and looked at me with an expression of bitter hate.

"I asked Herr Ziegler when I might congratulate him on Hagar's marriage," I said with a smile. "And that's one reason why I want to know your reason for what you are doing against Fräulein Althea. You profess to wish to marry her, you know; and even the son of a powerful Minister can't marry them both."

His confusion and anger were so intense that he could not find any reply to make to my jibe. He dropped back into his seat and sat biting his nails and scowling. I was delighted with my success.

"Well?" I asked at length. "A bit awkward, isn't it? I told you it was getting to be my turn to laugh. But I'm ready to come to an understanding. Drop this hunting business, and I'll hold my tongue to Ziegler."

"You've cornered me," he admitted with an oath. Then he laughed and swore again. "It wasn't my doing."

"What wasn't?"

"About Althea. I had to seem to wish it. It's my father's plan."

"You did the seeming very realistically," I retorted drily. "What are you going to do?"

"Marry the Ziegler girl when the time comes. I've no choice"; and he shrugged his shoulders and sneered.

"Why did your father wish you to marry a poor girl like Fräulein Althea?"

"If I'm not going to do it, what does that matter?"

"Not much, and I'll see that you don't do it," I replied as I rose. "We'll call a halt on both sides. I shan't talk so long as you run straight. But mind you do"; and with that I let him go.

I was well satisfied with the result of the interview. He was a man on whose fear I could play pretty safely, and his change of manner on reading the letter had convinced me that he went in deadly fear of the ruin which the wily old Jew held over his head.

I did not envy Hagar her prospective husband; but that was her affair. She loved him--Heaven knows there is no accounting for the vagaries of a woman's heart--and if she wished to marry him, she must have her way.

But he should not marry Althea. That I was firmly resolved, whether it was his father's idea or not. Not if the Emperor himself and the whole Court were set upon it. What the real reason might be behind the scheme I had not yet fathomed; but I had done well enough, and would find out the rest.

There was no longer any urgent reason for Althea to leave the house, and elated with my success I ran up to tell the others my news.

I found Althea alone. She did not hear my knock at the door, and was sitting by the window buried in thought, her face resting on her hand, and gazing out across the city.

She started at my entrance and looked round hurriedly. "I am afraid I am disturbing you," I said.

"No, no. Please come in, Mr. Bastable. Bessie insisted on going out to look for some place to which I can go on leaving here. She declares she will go with me; but I----" She broke off with a little shrug of protest.

She was pale, and her eyes had a worried, anxious expression. I had not been alone with her since her arrival at the house. I had purposely avoided that, indeed, for fear lest some sign of my love for her should escape me. While she remained in our care I could not, of course, give even a hint of my feelings. It had not been so difficult to assume indifference in Bessie's presence; but alone with her I was afraid of myself.

"She would go, of course; but fortunately it will not be necessary for either of you to leave," I said in a level tone.

She smiled. "I read in that that you have been able to help me yet further. Tell me--unless you have no time to spare."

"I think I have been able to call a halt in all this"; and I went on to describe von Felsen's trick of bringing Dormund to the house, and how I had succeeded in checking him by means of the information about Hagar.

"You think he will marry that Jewess?"

"I think he goes in terror of her father, and that the Jew holds his fate in the hollow of his hand."

She nodded, and was silent for a space, and then shook her head. "Will you tell me what you know of Ephraim Ziegler?"

"Do you know him?" I asked in surprise.

She paused again, sighed, and glanced at me. "I owe you so much that I am bound to tell you everything. I am sure you will not betray me?" She stretched out her hand and laid it on my arm with a wistful gesture.

My pulses beat fast at the contact. "I hope you feel that."

"Of course I do," she said simply, withdrawing her hand again. For a moment she turned away and gazed out of the window, the red glare of the setting sun lighting her face. "He is a Pole, like my father; and you know the dream of every Pole--national independence. We have been foully wronged, and deep down in every Polish heart burns the desire for retribution. In that I, too, am a true Pole." Her eyes were ablaze with the light of enthusiasm as she turned them suddenly upon me. "I would freely give my life for the cause if it could do good; but, alas! I know it is but an empty dream. I am not blind."

"You have not taken any active part in any movement, surely?" I asked in some dismay.

"It is that which is probably behind the attempt to arrest me. The Government holds us all for enemies of the state. Any step is held to be fair against my countrymen. They are so conscious of the wrong they have done us that that very knowledge urges them farther along the road of oppression. I am my father's daughter and so am suspect. But I have not plotted, as have so many of us, against the Government. I know the uselessness. My father has written me often of the plans, and has urged me to use my opportunities here in Berlin for the cause."

"And yet you venture to remain here?"

"Herr Ziegler is deep in the schemes," she replied, not heeding my question. "You know what the policy is now. To ally ourselves with every disaffected element in the Empire, to stir discontent, to band together every section of malcontents, to lose no chance of throwing discredit on the Government, and when the time comes to raise the cry for Independence."

"And yet you venture to remain here?" I repeated.

"Do you think I am a coward?" and again she laid her hand on my arm. "No, Mr. Bastable, we Poles are dreamers and visionaries, but we are not cowards."

"I should not make that mistake, I assure you."

"I have told you because--well, because I wish you to know. I would trust my life to you. I have never in all my life had such friends as you and your sister."

"I thank you for that," I said in a low voice, averting my eyes that she might not see how deeply her words moved me.

She was silent for fully a minute, and my heart was beating so lustily that I half feared she would hear it.

"And is your father deeply concerned?" I asked, to break the trying silence.

"My dear father," she replied, with a smile and a sigh. "Ah, Mr. Bastable, if you could see him you would smile at your own question. In former years he was a power in the movement; but he is old now, and has brooded so long upon his wrongs that his mind has been affected. He was then indeed an enemy to be counted with, but he is no more his old self. Things are done in his name because of the influence he once wielded, but he himself does them no longer. They have broken him on the wheel of persecution. Pity rather than terror should be the emotion he stirs; but what do the iron rulers of this great Empire know of pity?"

"And the end?"

She tossed up her hands and let them fall on her lap. "Failure, of course, with its accompaniment of more proscriptions, more imprisonments, more tyranny."

"But yourself?"

"I have done no wrong and do not fear. Besides, have I not found a friend in you?" and she gave me a bright smile.

"I wish you would let that friend see you safe out of the country," I said very earnestly.

She shook her head slowly. "I am no coward to fly; but if ever it should come to that and I ask your help, you will not fail me I know."

"On my honour, I will not," I cried, all my heart in my voice. "I shall wait for that day."

"I am sure of you, Herr Bastable," she replied simply.

Again we were silent for a while. I could not trust myself to speak, and this time it was she who broke the silence. "I am very glad I have told you," she said. "Glad because it is good to share confidence with a friend, and glad, too, because you will see why it is not right for me to remain here, to let you and your sister run this risk on my account. She must not go with me when I leave your house. You understand that now?"

"We shall not let you go."

"Spoken like a friend, and as I should expect you to speak. But there is another reason. I scarcely know how to speak of it. And yet why should I hesitate? You will understand now. I would gladly stay, ah, so gladly! But I have had to learn to put aside my own desires. There are two deciding motives in my life--my father's welfare and that of Chalice."

"She does not consider you," I burst out bluntly.

"I won't hear that," she smiled. "I don't wish to hear any discordant note from you. You are not angry that I speak so," she cried quickly, as she put out her hand again.

"I am only sorry that I said it, since it grieves you."

"Well, then, were it not for something you have said now, those motives would drive me to leave you at once. You will think it strange when I say it has to do with Herr von Felsen. Ah, you frown."

"Surprise only. How can he have anything to do with such a decision?"

"I told you, and I think he has told you also, that he wishes to make me his--his wife." Her voice dropped as she hesitated over the word.

"Well?"

My voice must have betrayed something of the feeling with which I heard this, for she looked up and said hastily: "I am speaking to the best friend I ever had, am I not? To one who understands that I have to think of both those who love and trust to me--my father and Chalice? You will have wondered why Hugo von Felsen should entertain such a wish. I will tell you. He knows my secret--I told you that before. You remember?"

"Yes, I remember." Try as I would I could not make my tone other than hard.

"He is one of the few who know also the real facts about my father--that he is no longer a power among the Polish Irreconcilables. And by the influence of his father, the Count von Felsen, a pardon for my father can be obtained, and our family estates can be restored; not indeed to him, but to--to my husband if that husband should be Hugo von Felsen."

There was a long pause. "There is the Jewess," I said then.

"It is what you have told me about that which baffles me," she replied with a gesture of bewilderment.

"How do you know that what he has told you is true?"

"Do you think he is a man to seek as his wife a girl who has no fortune? And I have none at present. Why then does he press this? Just before this attempt to arrest me, he urged me vehemently to marry him at once and secretly. I would not; I could not, I despise him so"; and she shuddered. "I used the supposed attentions of the Prince to put him off, and now you see the screw has been turned."

"The scoundrel," I muttered.

"Hard words will not solve my dilemma, my friend. I wish they would!" and she sighed heavily. "It is my turn to-day, to-morrow it will be Chalice's, and then my father's. I see only the one way out; but then there is this Jewess."

I sat thinking hard. "If there were a way out you would take it?"

Her face lighted eagerly for a second, and then fell again. "Of course; but there is none."

"I am not so sure of that. Will you let me try to find one?"

She thrust out her hand impulsively. "With all my heart," she said fervently.

Our eyes met as our hands were clasped. "Don't give up yet," I said as I rose. "We are a long way from being beaten yet. But you must let me take my own course, and promise to do nothing without first telling me."

"Why, of course. I promise that freely. But the power behind him is very strong."

My sister came in then, with a very official-looking letter for me.

"A very fussy individual gave me this for you, Paul, as I was coming in, and said it was urgent."

I opened it, and found it was a curt summons to an interview on the following morning with von Felsen's father. As I slipped it into my pocket I saw Althea's eyes fixed on me questioningly.

I told her what it was, and added with a smile: "I think it should be the first step to the way out."

"I have found the very place for us to go to, Althea," broke in Bessie.

"You may not have to go at all, Bess, and certainly not yet," I told her.

"What do you mean?"

"Fräulein Althea will explain everything," and with that I went off to think over the whole tangle.

CHAPTER VI

A STROKE OF LUCK

As soon as I reached my room I sat down to look the difficulties of the problem before me fairly in the face. And formidable enough they were.

The interview with Althea had shifted the axis of everything. What I had deemed the mere comedy of the Imperial marriage--a matter which a few words of explanation would set right instantly--had developed into a grave drama in which Althea's future was imperilled. And with that was intertwined my own happiness.

Her confidence in telling me everything so frankly, no less than the hundred little touches with which it had all been told, had at once raised my own hopes of being able to win her if only I could clear away the tangle, and at the same time had convinced me of her belief that the forces arrayed against us were too formidable to be overcome.

I did not make the mistake of underrating them. This summons to Count von Felsen was a proof that I must reckon with powerful Court influences; and that if I was not to be beaten, I must find some means of defeating not only von Felsen but his influential father also.

That meant that I must be able to secure the pardon for Althea's erratic father which was to be the price of her consent to the proposed marriage.

For such a purpose it would not be enough to rouse old Ziegler's fury against von Felsen on the score of the latter's contemplated refusal to marry Hagar. Even if that marriage took place and von Felsen were thus unable to marry Althea, the latter's case would not be helped. Her father would remain unpardoned, and she herself and Chalice would be in the same danger.

I must dig deeper than that. I had appreciated this when Althea had been telling me her story, and my thought had been to get von Felsen so completely into my power that I could make terms even with his father.

This would be difficult, of course; but not perhaps impossible. If I could but get proofs that he had been acting in collusion with the Polish party, and had actually used his position in his father's office to obtain information and sell it to them, I should have him surely enough.

That he had done it, and was going to do it again, my talk with Ziegler had made me pretty certain. But how was I to get the proof?

I spent several profitless hours wrestling with that puzzle, and sat far into the night endeavouring to hit on a scheme by which von Felsen might be trapped. Only to be utterly baffled, however.

If it could be done at all, it would have to be through Ziegler; but how to use him without rousing his suspicions of my purpose, I could not see.

On the following morning I was starting for the interview with the Minister, when a letter came from Ziegler asking me to see him on "very particular business." Glad of the opportunity to see him so soon without having appeared to seek the interview, I sent word I would call in the course of the morning; and I was not a little curious as to what the "very particular business" would prove to be. I could only hope it would give the opportunity I sought.

My reception at the Count's office was very different from what I had anticipated from the peremptory nature of the summons. I did not see the Minister himself but his secretary named Borsen, whom I knew to be closely in his confidence. He had moreover been friendly with me during my time as newspaper correspondent. He received me very pleasantly, and shook hands with a great show of cordiality. "I just want to have a little informal chat over matters with you, my dear Bastable, in a perfectly frank and friendly way," he said with a smile.

"The invitation was not exactly informal, Borsen," I replied.

"Ah well, you know we are sticklers for red tape. If I had been in London I should have dropped in on you without any invitation at all, but here----" and he flourished his hands as a finish to the sentence.

"I should have been pleased to see you in Berlin, also," I laughed, adapting my manner to his.

"But you have visitors and I might have been in the way, you see."

"Visitors?" I repeated with a lift of the brows. "Ah, let us be perfectly frank with one another."

"Certainly. Will you lead the way?"

"Well, we know that Fräulein Korper is in your house." He paused for me to make the admission.

"If she were there, I should certainly know it. My sister would scarcely----"

"Won't you admit it?" he interrupted. "And save time?"

"Hadn't you better tell me first why you think it?"

He laughed. "You were leaving Berlin and changed your plans at the last moment. At the station you were with your sister whose looks had so changed--she was dark, you know, not fair--that no one could recognize her. The dark young lady drove with you to your house. Your German servant, Gretchen, I think her name is, saw her on her arrival. You discharged that most worthy young woman suddenly. There is a lady in your house who sings the songs of the accomplished Chalice Mennerheim in a voice which is the counterpart of Fräulein Korper's. Need I say any more?"