Read The Man with the Clubfoot Page 18


  CHAPTER XVIII

  I GO ON WITH THE STORY

  I was in the billiard-room of the Castle, a dusty place, obviouslylittle used, for it smelt of damp. A fire was burning in the grate,however, and on a table in the corner, which was littered with papers,stood a dispatch box.

  Clubfoot wore a dinner-coat and, as he laughed, his white expanse ofshirt-front heaved to the shaking of his deep chest. For a moment,however, I had little thought of him or the ugly-looking Browning heheld in his fist. My ears were strained for any sound that might betrayFrancis' presence in the garden. But all remained silent as the grave.

  Clubfoot, still chuckling audibly, walked over to me. I thought he wasgoing to shoot me, he came so straight and so fast, but it was only toget behind me and shut the door, driving me, as he did so, farther intothe room.

  The door by which he had entered stood open. Without taking his eyes offme or deflecting his weapon from its aim, he called out:

  "Schmalz!"

  A light step resounded, and the one-armed lieutenant tripped into theroom. When he saw me, he stopped dead. Then he softly began to circleround me with a mincing step, murmuring to himself: "So! So!"

  "Good evening, Dr. Semlin!" he said in English. "Say, I'm mighty glad tosee you! Well, Okewood, dear old boy, here we are again. What? HerrJulius Zimmermann ..." and he broke into German, "_es freut mich!_"

  I could have killed him where he stood, maimed though he was, for hisfluency in the American and English idiom alone.

  "Search him, Schmalz!" commanded Clubfoot curtly.

  Schmalz ran the fingers of his one arm over my pockets, flinging myportfolio on the billiard-table towards Clubfoot, and the other articlesas they came to light ... my pistol, watch, cigarette-case and soforth ... on to a leather lounge against the wall. In his search hebrushed me with his severed stump ... ugh, it was horrible!

  Clubfoot had snatched up the portfolio and hastily examined it. He shookthe contents out on the billiard-table and examined them carefully.

  "Not there!" he said. "Run him upstairs, and we'll strip him," heordered; "and let not our clever young friend forget that I'm behind himwith my little toy!"

  Schmalz gripped me by the collar, spitefully digging his knuckles intomy neck, and propelled me out of the room ... almost into the arms ofMonica.

  She screamed and, turning, fled away down the passage. Clubfoot laughednoisily, but I reflected mournfully that in my present sorry plight,unwashed and unshaven, in filthy clothes, haled along like a commonpickpocket, even my own mother would not have recognized me.

  There was a degrading scene in the bedroom to which they dragged me,where the two men stripped me to the skin and pawed over every singlearticle of clothing I possessed. Physically and mentally, I cowered inmy nudity before the unwholesome gaze of these two sinister cripples. Ofall my experiences in Germany, I still look back upon that as almost myworst ordeal.

  Of course, they found nothing, search as they might, and presently theyflung my clothes back at me and bade me get dressed again, "for you andI, young man," said Clubfoot, with his glinting smile, "have got to havea little talk together!"

  When I was once more clothed--

  "You can leave us, Schmalz!" commanded Clubfoot, "and send up thesergeant when I ring: he shall look after this tricky Englishman whilstwe are at dinner with our charming hostess."

  Schmalz went out and left us alone. Clubfoot lighted a cigar. He smokedin silence for a few minutes. I said nothing, for really there wasnothing for me to say. They hadn't got their precious document, and itwas not likely they would ever recover it now. I feared greatly thatFrancis in his loyalty might make an attempt to rescue me, but I hoped,whatever he did, he would think first of putting the document in a placeof safety. I was more or less resigned to my fate. I was in their handsproperly now, and whether they got the document or not, my doom wassealed.

  "I will pay you the compliment of saying, my dear Captain Okewood,"Clubfoot remarked in that urbane voice of his which always made myblood run cold, "that never before in my career have I devoted so muchthought to any single individual, in the different cases I have handled,as I have to you. As an individual, you are a paltry thing: it is ratheryour remarkable good fortune that interests me as a philosopher ofsorts.... I assure you it will cause me serious concern to be theinstrument of severing your really extraordinary strain of good luck. Idon't mind telling you, as man to man, that I have not yet entirelydecided in my mind what to do with you now that I've got you!"

  I shrugged my shoulders.

  "You've got me, certainly," I replied, "but you would vastly prefer tohave what I have not got."

  "Let us not forget to be always content with small mercies,"answered the other, smiling with a gleam of his golden teeth,... "thatis a favourite maxim of mine. As you truly remark, I would certainlyprefer the ... the jewel to the infinitely less preciousand ... interesting ... casket. But what I have, I hold. And Ihave you ... and your accomplice as well."

  "I have no accomplice," I denied stoutly.

  "Surely you forget our gracious hostess, our most charming Countess? Wasit not thanks to the interest she deigned to take in your safety that Icame here? Had it not been for that circumstance, I should scarcely haveventured to intrude upon her widowhood...."

  "Her widowhood?" I exclaimed.

  Clubfoot smiled again.

  "You cannot have followed the newspapers in your ... retreat, my dearCaptain Okewood," he replied, "or surely you would have read theafflicting intelligence that Count Rachwitz, A.D.C. to Field-Marshal vonMackensen, was killed by a shell that fell into the Brigade Head-quarterswhere he was lunching at Predeal. Ah, yes," he sighed, "our beautifulCountess is now a widow, alone ..." he paused, then added, "... andunprotected!"

  I understood his allusion and went cold with fear. Why, Monica wasinvolved in this affair as much as I. Surely they wouldn't dare to touchher....

  Clubfoot leaned forward and tapped me on the knee.

  "You will be sensible, Okewood," he said confidentially. "You've lost.You can't save yourself. Your life was forfeit from the moment youcrossed the threshold of his Majesty's private apartments ... but youcan save _her_."

  I shook his huge hand off my leg.

  "You won't bluff me," I answered roughly. "You daren't touch theCountess Rachwitz, an American lady, niece of an American ambassador,married into one of your leading families ... no, Herr Doktor, you musttry something else."

  "Do you know why Schmalz is here?" he asked patiently, "and thosesoldiers?... You must have passed through the cordon to come here. Yourlittle friend is in preventive arrest. She would be in gaol (she doesn'tknow it), but that His Majesty was unwilling to put this affront on theRachwitz family in their great affliction."

  "The Countess Rachwitz has nothing whatever to do with me," ... rather afoolish lie, I thought to myself too late, as I was in her house.

  But Clubfoot remained quite unperturbed.

  "I shall take you into my confidence, my dear sir," he said, "to showthat I know you to be stating an untruth. The Countess, on the contrary,is, to use a vulgar phrase, in it up to the neck. Thanks to the amazingimbecility of the Berlin police, I was not informed of your brief stayat the Bendler-Strasse, even after they were called in by the invalidAmerican gentleman in the matter of your hasty flight when asked to haveyour passport put in order. But we are systematic, we Germans; we arepainstaking; and I set about going through every possible place thatmight afford you shelter.

  "In the course of my investigations I came across our mutual friend,Herr Kore. A perusal of his very business-like ledgers showed me that onthe day following your disappearance from the Esplanade he had received3,600 marks from a certain E. 2 ... all names in his books were incipher. Under the influence of my winning personality, Herr Kore told meall he knew; I pursued my investigations and then discovered what theasinine police had omitted to tell me, namely, that on the date inquestion an alleged American had made a hurried flight from the CountessRachwitz's
apartment in the Bendler-Strasse. An admirable fellow ... Maxor Otto, or some name like that ... anyhow, he was valet to Madame'sinvalid brother, was able to fill in all the lacunae, and I was thusenabled to draw up a very strong case against your well-meaning butsingularly ill-advised hostess. By this time the lady had left Berlinfor this charming old-world seat, and I promptly took measures to haveher placed in preventive arrest whilst I tracked _you_ down.

  "You got away again. Even Jupiter nods, you know, my dear CaptainOkewood, and I frankly admit I overlooked the silver badge which you hadin your possession. I must compliment you also on your adroitness inleaving us that false trail to Munich. It took me in to the extent thatI dispatched an emissary to hunt you down in that delightful capital,but, for myself, I have a certain _flair_ in these matters, and Ithought you would sooner or later come to Bellevue. You will admit thatI showed some perspicacity?"

  "You're wasting time with all this talk," I said sullenly.

  Clubfoot raised a hand deprecatingly.

  "I take a pride in my work," he observed half-apologetically. Then headded:

  "You must not forget that your pretty Countess is not an American. Sheis a German. She is also a widow. You may not know the relations thatexisted between her and her late husband, but they were not, I assureyou, of such warmth that the Rachwitz family would unduly mourn herloss. Do you suppose we care a fig for all the American ambassadors thatever left the States? My dear sir, I observe that you are stilllamentably ignorant of the revolution that war brings into internationalrelations. In war, where the national interest is concerned, theindividual is nothing. If he or she must be removed, puff! you snuff theoffender out. Afterwards you can always pay or apologize, or do what isrequired."

  I listened in silence; I had no defence to offer in face of this deadlylogic, the logic of the stronger man.

  Clubfoot produced a paper from his pocket.

  "Read that!" he said, tossing it over to me. "It is the summons for theCountess Rachwitz to appear before a court-martial. Date blank, you see.You needn't tear it up ... I've got several spare blank forms ... onefor you, too!"

  I felt my courage ebbing and my heart turning to water. I handed himback his paper in silence. The booming of a dinner gong suddenly swelledinto the stillness of the room. Clubfoot rose and rang the bell.

  "Here's my offer, Okewood!" he said. "You shall restore that letter tome in its integrity, and the Countess Rachwitz shall go free providedshe leaves this country and does not return. That's my last word! Takethe night to sleep on it! I shall come for my answer in the morning."

  A sergeant in field-grey with a rifle and fixed bayonet stood in thedoorway.

  "I make you responsible for this man, Sergeant," said Clubfoot, "until Ireturn in an hour or so. Food will be sent up for him and you willpersonally assure yourself that no message is conveyed to him by that orany other means."

  * * * * *

  I had washed, I had brushed my clothes, I had dined, and I sat insilence by the table, in the most utter dejection of spirit, I think,into which it is possible for a man to fall. I was so totally crushed bythe disappointment of the evening that I don't think I pondered muchabout my own fate at all. But my thoughts were busy with Monica. My lifewas my own, and I knew I had a lien on my brother's if thereby ourmission might be carried through to the end. But had I the right tosacrifice Monica?

  And then the unexpected happened. The door opened, and she came in,Schmalz behind her. He dismissed the sergeant with a word of caution tosee that the sentries round the house were vigilant, and followed theman out, leaving Monica and me alone.

  The girl stopped the torrent of self-reproach that rose to my lips witha pretty gesture. She was pale, but she held her head as high as ever.

  "Schmalz has given me five minutes alone with you, Des," she said, "toplead with you for my life, that you may betray your trust. No, don'tspeak ... there is no time to waste in words. I have a message for youfrom Francis.... Yes, I have seen him here, this very night.... He saysyou must contrive at all costs to keep Grundt from going to the shoot atten o'clock to-morrow, and to detain him with you from ten to twelve.That is all I know about it.... But Francis has planned something, andyou and I have got to trust him. Now, listen ... I shall tell Clubfoot Ihave pleaded with you and that you show signs of weakening. Say nothingto-night, temporize with him when he comes for his answer in themorning, and then send for him at a quarter to ten, when he will beleaving the house with the others. The rest I leave to you. Good night,Des, and cheer up!"...

  "But, Monica," I cried, "what about you?"

  She reddened deliciously under her pallor.

  "Des," she replied happily, "we are allies now, we three. If all goeswell, I'm coming with you and Francis!"

  With that she was gone. A few minutes after, a couple of soldiersarrived with Schmalz and took me downstairs to a dark cellar in thebasement, where I was locked in for the night.

  * * * * *

  I was dreaming of the front ... again I sniffed the old familiar smells,the scent of fresh earth, the fetid odour of death; again I heardoutside the trench the faint rattle of tools, the low whispers of ourwiring party; again I saw the very lights soaring skyward and revealingthe desolation of the battlefield in their glare. Someone was shaking meby the shoulder. It was my servant come to wake me.... I must havefallen asleep. Was it stand-to so soon? I sat up and rubbed my eyes andawoke to the anguish of another day.

  The sergeant stood at the cellar door, framed in the bright morninglight.

  "You are to come upstairs!" he said.

  He took me to the billiard-room, where Clubfoot, sleek and washed andshaved, sat at the writing-table in the sunshine, opening letters andsipping coffee. A clock on a bracket above his head pointed to eight.

  "You wish to speak to me, I believe," he said carelessly, running hiseye over a letter in his hand.

  "You must give me a little more time, Herr Doktor," I said. "I was wornout last night and I could not look at things in their proper light. Ifyou could spare me a few hours more...."

  I put a touch of pleading into my voice, which struck him at once.

  "I am not unreasonable, my dear Captain Okewood," he replied, "but youwill understand that I am not to be trifled with, so I give you fairwarning. I will give you until...."

  "It is eight o'clock now," I interrupted. "I tell you what, give meuntil ten. Will that do?"

  Clubfoot nodded assent.

  "Take this man upstairs to my bedroom," he ordered the sergeant. "Staywith him while he has his breakfast, and bring him back here at teno'clock. And tell Schmidt to leave my car at the door: he needn't wait,as he is to beat: I will drive myself to the shoot."

  I don't really remember what happened after that. I swallowed somebreakfast, but I had no idea what I was eating, and the sergeant, whowas a model of Prussian discipline, declined with a surly frown to enterinto conversation with me. My morale was very low: when I look back uponthat morning I think I must have been pretty near the breaking-point.

  As I sat and waited I heard the house in a turmoil of preparation forthe shoot. There was the sound of voices, of heavy boots in the hall, ofwheels and horses in the yard without. Then the noises died away and allwas still. Shortly afterwards, the clock pointing to ten, the sergeantescorted me downstairs again to the billiard-room.

  Grundt was still sitting there. A hot wave of anger drove the blood intomy cheeks as I looked at him, fat and soft and so triumphant at hisvictory. The sight of him, however, gave me the tonic I needed. My nervewas shaken badly, but I was determined it must answer to this laststrain, to play this uncouth fish for two hours. After that ... ifnothing happened ...

  Clubfoot sent the sergeant away.

  "I can look after him myself now," he said, in a blithe tone thatbetrayed his conviction of success. So the sergeant saluted and left theroom, his footsteps echoing down the passages like the leaden feet ofDestiny, relentless, inexorable.
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