The Red Symbol Read online

  CHAPTER X

  DISQUIETING NEWS

  I stared at the man incredulously.

  "Herr Pendennis has departed, and the Fraulein has not been here atall!" I repeated. "You must be mistaken, man! The Fraulein was to arrivehere on Monday, at about this time."

  He protested that he had spoken the truth, and summoned the manager,who confirmed the information.

  Yes, Herr Pendennis had been unfortunately indisposed, but thesickness had not been so severe as to necessitate that the socharming and dutiful Fraulein should hasten to him. He had a telegramreceived,--doubtless from the Fraulein herself,--and thereupon with muchhaste departed. He drove to the Friedrichstrasse station, but that wasall that was known of his movements. Two letters had arrived for MissPendennis, which her father had taken, and there was also a telegram,delivered since he left.

  Both father and daughter, it seemed, were well known at the hotel, wherethey always stayed during their frequent visits to the German capital.

  I was keenly disappointed. Surely some malignant fate was interveningbetween Anne and myself, determined to keep us apart. Why had shediscontinued her journey; and had she returned to England,--to theCayleys? If not, where was she now? Unanswerable questions, of course.All I could do was to possess my soul in patience, and hope for tidingswhen I reached my destination. And meanwhile, by breaking my journeyhere, for the sole purpose of seeing her, I had incurred a delay oftwelve hours.

  One thing at least was certain,--her father could not have left Berlinfor the purpose of meeting her _en route_, or he would not havestarted from the Friedrichstrasse station.

  With a rush all the doubts and perplexities that I had kept at bay, evensince I received Anne's post-card, re-invaded my mind; but I beat themback resolutely. I would not allow myself to think, to conjecture.

  I moped around aimlessly for an hour or two, telling myself that Berlinwas the beastliest hole on the face of the earth. Never had time draggedas it did that morning! I seemed to have been at a loose end for acentury or more by noon, when I found myself opposite the entrance ofthe Astoria Restaurant.

  "When in difficulties--feed," Jim Cayley had counselled, and a longlunch would kill an hour or so, anyhow.

  I had scarcely settled myself at a table when a man came along andclapped me on the shoulder.

  "Wynn, by all that's wonderful. What are you doing here, old fellow?"

  It was Percy Medhurst, a somewhat irresponsible, but very decentyoungster, whom I had seen a good deal of in London, one way andanother. He was a clerk in the British Foreign Office, but I hadn't theleast idea that he had been sent to Berlin. He had dined at the Cayleysonly a week or two back.

  "I'm feeding--or going to feed. What are you doing here?" I responded,as we shook hands. I was glad to see him. Even his usually frivolousconversation was preferable to my own meditations at the moment.

  "Just transferred, regular stroke of luck. Only got here last night;haven't reported myself for duty yet. I say, old chap, you look ratherhipped. What's up?"

  "Hunger," I answered laconically. "And I guess that's easily remedied.Come and join me."

  We talked of indifferent matters for a time, or rather he did most ofthe talking.

  "Staying long?" he asked at last, as we reached the coffee and liqueurstage. We had done ourselves very well, and I, at least, felt in a muchmore philosophic frame of mind than I had done for some hours past.

  "No, only a few hours. I'm _en route_ for Petersburg."

  "What luck; wish I was. Berlin's all right, of course, but a bit stodgy;and they're having a jolly lot of rows at Petersburg,--with more tocome. I say, though, what an awful shame about that poor chap Carson.Have you heard of it?"

  "Yes; I'm going to take his place. What do you know about him, anyhow?"

  "You are? I didn't know him at all; but I know a fellow who was awfullythick with him. Met him just now. He's frightfully cut up about it all.Swears he'll hunt down the murderer sooner or later--"

  "Von Eckhardt? Is he here?" I ejaculated.

  "Yes. D'you know him? An awfully decent chap,--for a German; though he'salways spouting Shakespeare, and thinks me an ass, I know, because Itell him I've never read a line of him, not since I left Bradfield,anyhow. Queer how these German johnnies seem to imagine Shakespearebelongs to them! You should have heard him just now!

  'He was my friend, faithful and just to me,'

  --and raving about his heart being in the coffin with Caesar; suppose hemeant Carson. 'Pon my soul I could hardly keep a straight face; but Idaren't laugh. He was in such deadly earnest."

  I cut short these irrelevant comments on Von Eckhardt's verbalpeculiarities, with which I was perfectly familiar.

  "How long's he here for?"

  "Don't know. Rather think, from what he said, that he's chucked up hispost on the _Zeitung_--"

  "What on earth for?"

  "How should I know? I tell you he's as mad as a hatter."

  "Wonder where I'd be likely to find him; not at the _Zeitung_ office, ifhe's left. I must see him this afternoon. Do you know where he hangsout, Medhurst?"

  "With his people, I believe; somewhere in Charlotten Strasse orthereabouts. I met him mooning about in the Tiergarten this morning."

  I called a waiter and sent him for a directory. There were scores of VonEckhardts in it, and I decided to go to the _Zeitung_ office, andascertain his address there.

  Medhurst volunteered to walk with me.

  "How are the Cayleys?" he asked, as we went along. "Thought thathandsome Miss Pendennis was going to stay with them all the summer. ByJove, she is a ripper. You were rather gone in that quarter, weren'tyou, Wynn?"

  I ignored this last remark.

  "How did you know Miss Pendennis had left?" I asked, with assumedcarelessness.

  "Why? Because I met her at Ostend on Sunday night, to be sure. Iweek-ended there, you know. Thought I'd have a private bit of a spree,before I had to be officially on the _Spree_."

  He chuckled at the futile pun.

  "You saw Anne Pendennis at Ostend. Are you certain it was she?" Idemanded.

  "Of course I am. She looked awfully fetching, and gave me one of hermost gracious bows--"

  "You didn't speak to her?" I pursued, throwing away the cigarette I hadbeen smoking. My teeth had met in the end of it as I listened to thisnews.

  My ingenuous companion seemed embarrassed by the question.

  "Well, no; though I'd have liked to. But--fact is, I--well, of course, Iwasn't alone, don't you know; and though she was a jolly littlegirl--she--I couldn't very well have introduced her to Miss Pendennis.Anyhow, I shouldn't have had the cheek to speak to her; she was with anawfully swagger set. Count Loris Solovieff was one of 'em. He's reallythe Grand Duke Loris, you know, though he prefers to go about incog.more often than not. He was talking to Miss Pendennis. Here's theoffice. I won't come in. Perhaps I'll turn up and see you off to-night.If I don't, good-bye and good luck; and thanks awfully for the lunch."

  I was thankful to be rid of him. I dare not question him further. Icould not trust myself to do so; for his words had summoned that blackhorde of doubts to the attack once more, and this time they would notbe vanquished.

  Small wonder that I had not found Anne Pendennis at Berlin! What was shedoing at Ostend, in company with "a swagger set" that included a RussianGrand Duke? I had heard many rumors concerning this Loris, whom I hadnever seen; rumors that were the reverse of discreditable to him. He wassaid to be different from most of his illustrious kinsfolk, inasmuchthat he was an enthusiastic disciple of Tolstoy, and had been dismissedfrom the Court in disgrace, on account of his avowed sympathy with therevolutionists.

  But what connection could he have with Anne Pendennis?

  And she,--she! Were there any limits to her deceit, her dissimulation?She was a traitress certainly; perhaps a murderess.

  And yet I loved her, even now. I think even more bitter than mydisillusion was the conviction that I must still love her, though I hadlost her--foreve
r!