The Man Without a Memory - Arthur W. Marchmont (best e ink reader for manga txt) 📗

I wasn't armed, they just put one chap in charge of me with orders to take me somewhere. It was quite dark then and, pretending that I was beastly uncomfortable after the search, I fiddled about with my clothes and managed to get my cord handy. Then I picked a suitable spot, asked him some fool question or other, and went for him. He was only a fat Landsturmer and hadn't more than a few wriggles in him; but I had to bash him over the head to make sure—that's where I wanted the dope, of course. Then I changed togs with him, trussed him up with my cord and started off on my own. Bluff did the rest, all right."

"But what did you do, old dear?"

He laughed and lit another cigarette. "I marched into the first cottage I came to, scared the folk out of their lives, and in the name of Kaiser Bill commandeered clothes for a wounded prisoner. They parted like a lamb, and five minutes afterwards I was transformed into a workman."

"But you'd no identification card?"

This brought another quiet laugh. "I worked that all right. There are no asses in the world too bad to bluff if you go the right way about it. My way was to go to the police. I pitched a yarn that I was an aero mechanic and had been sent for to go hotfoot to Ellendorff, a little place close to the Dutch frontier where I knew there was a factory, and that I'd been waylaid and robbed on the road. It sounds thin as I tell it; but I had mucked myself up to look the part, and, above all, I had gone to the police, mind you; itself the best proof that I wasn't a wrong 'un: and I chose the middle of the night, when only one sleepy owl was on duty. He swallowed it all right, except that he thought I was drunk and at first wanted to keep me till the morning; but when I kicked up a fuss, told him he'd get into a devil of a row, and said he'd better call his boss, he thought better of it, gave me what I wanted and was thankful to see my back and go to sleep again. I had no more trouble; was stopped once or twice, but the card got me through; and I reached the frontier easily enough. Luck favoured me there. I ran across a couple of deserters, palled up with them, and—well, that's all."

Gunter's story had made a big impression on me at the time, and in my old student days at Göttingen I had had quite enough experiences of the power of a good bluff on the average German official to know that it was quite feasible, so I resolved to profit by it now.

I had plenty of time the next day to complete all the necessary preparations and added a few of my own devising. These were some "iron rations," in case of difficulties about our food supply; two or three tools, including a heavy spanner which would serve as a weapon at need; and a shabby suit case to hold everything.

I packed everything into this, lifted a board under the lino in my bathroom, and hid it there, lest any one in my absence might take a fancy to go through my luggage.

With a road map and a railway guide the route to be taken was soon decided. The Dutch frontier was to be the goal. It was much nearer than the Swiss; and as Westphalia was the region of factories, it was much more plausible that a couple of mechanics would travel that way, than in any other direction.

Gunter's mention of the one at Ellendorff, a village near Lingen, and close to the frontier, suggested a good objective; and the rough idea was to make the journey in stages, so as to put people off the scent should suspicion be roused. It was safer than risking a trip in one of the through expresses, and also much easier to book from small towns than right through from Berlin.

All this took up a lot of time, especially as it was interrupted by several spells of speculation about the result of Nessa's interview with von Gratzen. This was very important, as it would probably determine the method of our departure; and when my preparations were completed and I was carefully reconsidering them over a cigarette, some one knocked at the door of my flat.

It was a stranger; a well-dressed, sharp-featured man and unmistakably a Jew. "Herr Lassen?" he asked. I nodded. "My name is Rudolff."

"What is it?"

"It would be better for me to tell you my business privately," he replied, with a gesture toward a couple of people passing on the stairs.

I took him into my sitting-room with an extremely uncomfortable notion that he was from the police.

"I am in a position to do you a considerable service, Herr Lassen," he said, squinting curiously round the room.

"Who sent you to me and how did you know where to find me?"

"Your arrival in the city is scarcely a secret, and I obtained your address from your friends in the Karlstrasse. No one sent me to you, sir."

He wasn't from the police. That was a relief, and nothing else mattered. "And the service you spoke of?"

"You will not be surprised to hear that a number of people wish to find you?"

"As it's been easy for you, would it be difficult for them?"

"Not so difficult as you might desire, perhaps. I say that because you appear somewhat to resent my visit. If that is really the case, of course I will go."

"I don't care whether you go or stop; but if you've anything that you think worth telling, tell it. I'll listen. I presume you haven't come out of mere philanthropy, by the way."

"I have not. I make no pretence of the sort. If the warning I can give you is worth anything, I am not so rich as to throw money away."

"Out with it then." It was not only curiosity which prompted me to listen. It was probable that he was going to tell me some lurid incident of Lassen's past, and it was just as well to hear it. It was also quite possible that after all he might come from von Gratzen with the object of catching me tripping. His question suggested that.

"It was at Göttingen, I believe, that you made the acquaintance of Adolf Gossen?"

"I dare say, but I don't remember anything about it,"

"Ah, of course. You are the man without a memory. I have heard of your misfortune," he said, with a sly suggestive glance.

"And doubt it, eh? Well, suppose you get on with the story?"

He took the hint, and it turned out to be about the same pretty affair von Erstein had made so much of. It seemed, according to my visitor, that some one was in prison because of it; that his friends, whose names he gave, were furious; that they were looking high and low for me; and that if I remained in Berlin they would find me and wreak their vengeance in any way that came handy. He declared he knew where to find them and they were prepared to pay for the information of my whereabouts.

The thing was either a palpable plant or this fellow had come from von Erstein to try and frighten me out of the city.

"Of course you mean that if I don't pay you, you will go to them?"

"Not at all, sir," he cried, with a fine show of indignation. "I know these people to be scoundrels; they have treated me villainously; I have merely come to warn you. You can act upon it or not, of course. That is entirely a matter for you;" and to my surprise he got up without asking a mark for his news. "I have done all that I can do by coming."

"I don't know anything about the affair, as I told you, but I'm very much obliged to you;" and I took out my pocket-book as a hint.

"Pardon me, sir," he exclaimed, flourishing his hands as if the sight of banknotes was an abomination, and shaking his head vigorously. "I could not think of accepting any money after what you have said. Good afternoon;" and he was still gesturing at the shock of the idea when he left the flat.

This was so extremely unnatural for a German Jew that it prompted suspicion. He had probably meant this pecuniary shyness as a startling proof of his honesty of purpose and general integrity.

That wasn't the effect it produced, however. It rather served to confirm the previous thought that von Erstein had sent him to scare me. That the brute would do almost anything to see my back was a certainty, of course; and then an odd notion flitted across my thoughts.

Whether it would be worth while to appear to tumble into the trap; go to him in the very dickens of a funk; make him believe my one object was to fly the country, in disguise, to Holland preferably; and get him to procure the necessary permit, etc. The possibility of hoisting him with his own petard looked good; and the thought of his chagrin when he discovered that he had helped me to take Nessa out of his clutches made the scheme positively alluring.

That it could be done, there was little doubt, and equally none that he could get the necessary papers; but the price to pay for them was too stiff. To have anything to do with such a mongrel was unthinkable so long as any other course was open; so I abandoned it until every other means had been tried.

The pressing question now was the result of Nessa's interview with von Gratzen, and I set off for the Karlstrasse to hear about it. This time the door was opened by the girl Marie; so I concluded that Gretchen had either bolted or been sent about her business as the result of the previous day's affair. Marie told me no one was at home and that Rosa had gone with Nessa and Lottchen to the Thiergarten.

I soon found them; and Rosa played the part of the good fairy and kept the child with her while Nessa told me the news.

"First let me tell you the good news," she said.

"Do you mean that the other's bad then?"

"Do have a little patience. The main thing is that Rosa has induced Herr Feldmann to say where we can get the things you want. Isn't that splendid?"

"Yes, if you are able to get away with me; and that may depend on what passed to-day. Is it all right?"

"You might as well ask me a riddle in Russian. Frankly I don't know what to make of it. Of course it was to see Baron von Gratzen that I had to go to the Amtstrasse. He seemed all right, but——" and she shrugged her shoulders and frowned.

"That's just the impression he always leaves on me."

"He was awfully kind in his manner; but it was lucky you warned me to be careful, for he kept popping in some question about you just when I wasn't expecting it, and whether I gave you away I can't say. I don't think I did; but then I'm not at all sure he didn't see that I was fencing."

"What did he talk about?"

"Oh, he told me first that some one had declared I was really a spy; asked why I had stopped so long here? Didn't I want to go home? and so on. Of course that was all easy enough; but I think he was only trying to let me get over my nervousness; for, of course, I was awfully nervous; and at last he said he believed my story entirely, in fact that he knew it was the truth; that I wasn't to worry; that I need only report