The Man Without a Memory, Arthur W. Marchmont [best business books of all time .txt] 📗

I had in the world to have stuffed them into my pocket and walked off. Did he mean me to take them? Or was it intended as a test? Did he guess what a temptation it was? Could I get away with them? He stopped out of the room long enough, and as the minutes passed, it was all I could do to resist it.

But I stuck it; put the papers down on his desk and tried not to look at them. It was a touch of sheer purgatory. His first glance, when at length he returned, was at them, and the way he looked at me made me pretty certain that he could guess something of my feeling. It looked uncommonly as if he were disappointed to find me still in the room and the papers on his table.

"I'm sorry to have kept you, my boy, but it couldn't be helped," he said as he sat down and put the temptation out of sight. "I told you in my letter that I had something important to tell you. I have, and unpleasant into the bargain. Was Count von Erstein with you last night?"

"Yes, about ten o'clock."

"Did you offer him some drink?"

"Yes, and a cigar, but he refused both."

"What was he doing there? Wait, I'll tell you first that he has made a charge against you that you attempted to poison him."

I laughed. "Of course I didn't. It was a joke."

"It may not be altogether a laughing matter; he's a dangerous man to joke with. Would you care to tell me about it all?"

"Of course. This will explain a good deal." I put my hand in my waistcoat pocket for Rudolff's statement, and then for the first time missed the card case which Rosa had given me. The loss was of no consequence, however, as I had the fellow's confession. "Before I give it you I ought to say that I promised the man who wrote this that if he was prepared to swear to the truth of it, he should come to no harm."

"That'll be all right," he agreed with a nod.

"An attempt was made on my life last night by this fellow and two others at von Erstein's instigation;" and I described the affair and all that had occurred subsequently.

"Ah, more clever bluff, eh? Upon my word I shall be expecting you to try it with me next," he said. Then he read over the confession carefully and lapsed into thought. Long and apparently anxious thought it was, too.

"I'll stand by you, my boy. I believe your story implicitly and I know von Erstein. But it was a bad mistake. He has a lot of influence in many directions. I hope you'll hear no more of it; but it was a bad blunder." He paused and, in a different and lighter tone and with a very peculiar look and a shadow of a smile, added: "It makes me almost wish you had taken advantage of my absence just now to get away with those tickets."

What on earth could one make of such a statement? If he'd given me another chance I'd have taken it; but he didn't. He locked the tickets up and sent me away, saying he would look into my affairs at once and send for me as soon as there was any need.

CHAPTER XVII ANNA HILDEN AGAIN

It is difficult to describe my feelings when I left von Gratzen, but I think my chief thought was a bitter regret that I hadn't taken the tickets and chanced things, mingled with a disquieting belief that I was muddling matters hopelessly.

Neither regret nor self-cursing were of the slightest help, however; and after a few minutes of impotent perplexity, I realized that extremely obvious fact.

Something had to be done; and the question was—what?

It looked as if von Gratzen would have let me have those tickets if I hadn't been ass enough to tell him about Anna and play the fool about being eager to have that affair cleared up first. He had not appeared to attach sufficient importance to the poison charge to refuse them on that account.

This cleared the ground a little, therefore. Could the obstacle be removed in time to allow of my using them that night? Could I get the confession from Anna herself, this meant? It was worth trying.

She had fixed the following day for me to see her; but that wasn't a good enough reason for my not seeing her at once. My natural eagerness to have the thing settled without delay would readily account for my disregarding her wish, and whether it did or not didn't matter two straws. So I set off on the errand at once.

Persuasion was the first card to play, and if that failed, a threat of the police; but by one means or another I must have the confession to take to von Gratzen that afternoon. Everything now turned on getting it into his hands early enough for Nessa and me to catch the Dutch mail which left about eight that night.

She had her hat on when I arrived, and resented the visit. "I said you were not to come until to-morrow," she said. "I can't see you now, as I'm just going out."

"I could not wait till to-morrow. I can't bear suspense."

"I've nothing to say to you, so it's no use your coming in."

"But I'm in already, Anna, and I must speak to you." She tried to avoid me and leave the place, but I shut the door and stood with my back to it.

"Very well. Go into the sitting-room and I'll listen."

"I'll follow you," I replied drily; and with a laugh and a shrug she led the way to her room.

"You seem almost as eager to marry me now as you were before to get out of it," she scoffed.

It was an unpromising start, for she was in a very different mood from that of the previous day. "If you think a moment of all that this must mean to me, of my desperate anxiety to know the truth about the past and to see what lies ahead, you'll understand it all, Anna;" and I went on for a few moments in that style endeavouring to re-establish the former relations and work on her emotions.

"I haven't had enough time to think about it," she replied. "Of course it takes a lot of thinking about."

"Does that mean you are not sure I am the man who wronged you?"

"Why should it, pray?"

"Well, you said that you had been mistaken about the child."

"I may have said that for a purpose. You got the soft side of me yesterday, and—— But I tell you I haven't made up my mind."

"You haven't altered your opinion about my being an honourable man and wishing to do the right thing, I hope?" and I did my best to draw a vivid picture of my state of mind and appeal to her good nature.

This appeared to have a softening effect; but not enough for the purpose. "Why does one day make such a difference?"

"Every minute makes a difference, Anna. I am on the rack and it's positive torture to prolong this suspense."

"I'm sorry. I am really; but I can't make up my mind. If you could do without me all these years, another day can't matter so much. Not that I can see."

"If you had lost your memory, you'd understand."

"But that was only a week or two ago. What of all the other time, the years and years you've left me to fend for myself?"

"I can't account for that," I said, as if distracted.

"You hadn't lost your memory all that time, however."

"The shock of the explosion has utterly changed me in every way."

"It was about time, I should think, judging by all I've heard and the way you treated me. I don't deny you're a white man enough now; but what if you got your memory back? It might change you into something very different. I have to think of that, you know. You might be mad enough to—to do anything; perhaps even murder me. You're not surprised it makes me think, are you? I don't wish to be made into an honest woman only to be murdered."

This was altogether so different from her previous attitude, that it was clear some one had been coaching her; and of course it could only be von Erstein. "You need not fear that, Anna."

"Why not? How do you know what you'd be mad enough to do if you got your memory back and found you'd tied yourself to me?"

"There's a very simple way out of that. Even if you wish me to marry you, we need not live together. I should give you an allowance and you could go your way and I mine, if you preferred it."

For some reason which beat me this seemed to appeal strongly to her. She sat thinking, and there was something of her previous day's emotion in her look as she asked: "Do you mean that?"

"You little know me if you doubt it, Anna."

She got up impulsively to stare out of the window as she had done before, and after a long pause she turned. "Look here, come to-morrow."

I looked intently at her and read something in her face that gave me fresh hope. "Why not to-day? You have made up your mind, I can see that; so why not tell me now?"

She shook her head. "Not to-day. To-morrow."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you why. Don't ask me."

"But I do ask you. I beg you as earnestly as I can."

Another shake of the head; and she would not budge, so that it became necessary to try a turn of the screw.

"Your reason has to do with some one else?"

"What do you mean?" she flashed in surprise and some alarm.

"I had a visit yesterday from a man who called himself Rudolff."

"Well? What's that got to do with it?"

"With two companions he tried to murder me."

She caught her breath. "Is that true?"

"As you see, the attempt failed and the man himself got the blow intended for me. I took him to my rooms afterwards and—well, here's his confession."

Her interest was keen enough to quicken her breathing as I took out the paper; and her fright deepened as I read it, and she began to tremble violently. "As you hear, he was the man who pointed me out to you yesterday in the Thiergarten."

For a few moments she was too overcome to speak. "What—do you—think it all means?" she stammered brokenly.

"Do you know Count von Erstein?"

Her hand went to her throat as she tried to reply, making a swallowing, half-choking motion. "You don't believe—that I had anything—to do with all that?"

"Oh no, Anna. I am sure you had not. I have told the authorities——"

"The police?" she broke in. It was almost a scream.

"Not the police. But, of course, a man can't let any one attempt his life and just sit down under it. I have a very influential friend——" I paused intentionally.

"Who is that?" came like a pistol shot.

"Baron von Gratzen; and he——"

"Did you tell him about me?"

"He knows of it. He is greatly interested in me because this unfortunate affair about my treatment of you will affect all he can do for my future. His wife and daughter were present yesterday when you recognized me. Of course he questioned me all about it and declared that he would have the fullest investigation made at once."

That seemed to break her right up. Von Gratzen's reputation caused the collapse. She had stiffened in alarm at the mention of his name, had listened with parted lips and straining features to every syllable about his interest in me, and when she knew that his people were going to take up the investigation, she was utterly overcome.

With a muffled cry of despair, she fell back in her chair in a half-fainting condition, her hands pressed to her face, moaning distractedly. She remained in this state for