Читать книгу The Man Without a Memory - Arthur W. Marchmont - Страница 12

It was some time before I allowed myself to recover from the little attack and felt equal to the task of resuming the conversation with Rosa. If the Miss Caldicott the child had mentioned was really Nessa—and it was difficult to think there would be two girls of that name shut up in Berlin at the same time—it was just the biggest stroke of luck I had ever had in my life.

Indeed, all the luck seemed to be coming my way; but I should have to be careful how I played the magnificent cards fate had placed in my hand. I must certainly have Rosa on my side; and that could probably be done by freeing her from the engagement. It couldn't be done at once, however; not until I had pretended to take time to consider.

I must also find out the relations between Rosa and Nessa; and must, if possible, manage not to have any one present when Nessa and I met for the first time. Not the easiest of jobs, probably; although my peculiar footing in the house might enable me to find a means. The risk was, of course, that in her amazement Nessa might give everything away.

"That was a sharp spasm and no mistake," I said when I lowered the handkerchief at last.

"Was it real, or just shamming to make us pity you?" asked Rosa suspiciously. "You were always good at shamming, you know."

"Was I? Oh well, I'm better, so it doesn't much matter."

"Did Lottchen hurt you, then? She's apt to be clumsy."

"She's rather a pretty child and doesn't look clumsy."

"She's the dearest little thing in the world, but it doesn't do to make too much of her. Every one spoils her because she's so pretty and looks so fragile. She isn't really delicate and can be no end of a romp, and is quite able to take her own part. She wants to go to school, and she'd have gone before if it hadn't been for the war and Nessa being here as her governess. You never saw anything like the way she loves Nessa."

I wasn't caught napping this time. "Nessa? And who's Nessa?" I asked with a frown of perplexity.

"Nessa Caldicott, an English girl who——"

"An English girl here, in this house, at such a time!" I exclaimed, lost in amazement.

"Yes, of course; in this house; and at such a time," she repeated, imitating my manner. "Have you any objection?"

"Of course not; but——" and I gestured to suggest anything.

"I wanted to talk to you about her. That's the one reason why I wasn't altogether sorry to hear you were in the Secret Service;" and then she told me that she and Nessa had been at school together, and how, when she found Nessa had had to leave her friends and could not get permission to go back to England, she had brought her home as Lottchen's governess. "She was in awful trouble, of course, and mother hated the idea of her coming to us; but I got my own way. That's about two months ago, and ever since we've been doing all we can to get her sent home."

This sent Rosa up many hundreds per cent. in my estimation. "I think it was awfully good of you; but why can't she go home?"

The question seemed to trouble her considerably. "If I tell you all about it, will you help us?"

"I don't suppose I can do anything, but I'll try."

"You may be able to find out the truth; and that will help, for we should know how to get to work. I think I know it, though, and I believe it's all the fault of a man who pesters her incessantly. He's a horrid beast, named Count von Erstein;" and she told me he was a wealthy Jew who had great influence with the Government; had tried and was still trying to get Nessa denounced as a spy and sent to one of the concentration camps; dogged her everywhere and set spies to watch her; had spread all manner of lying reports about her; and was intriguing in every possible way against her for his own infamous ends.

My blood boiled as I listened to all this, but I had to smother my rage sufficiently to assume just a conventional amount of indignation in keeping with Lassen's character. "An ugly story," I muttered.

"It doesn't seem to have roused you very much," she replied, her eyes flashing indignantly. "I should have thought it would have fired the blood of any ordinary man. It makes me feel that I could kill him; but then I'm only a woman."