The Man with the Clubfoot

by Valentine Williams

  CHAPTER XI

  MISS MARY PRENDERGAST RISKS HER REPUTATION

  The rooms of our suite were intercommunicating so that you could passfrom one to the other without going into the corridor at all. Schmalzhad retired this way, going from my room through the bathroom to his ownroom. In the excitement of the moment I forgot all about this, else Ishould not have omitted such an elementary precaution as slipping thebolt of the door communicating between my room and the bathroom.

  As I stepped out into the corridor, with the crash of that heavy bodystill ringing in my ears, I thought I caught the sound of a light stepin the bathroom; the next moment I heard a door open and then a loudexclamation of horror in the room I had just left.

  The corridor was dim and deserted. The place seemed uninhabited. Noboots stood outside the rooms, and open doors, one after the other, weresufficient indication that the apartments they led to were untenanted.

  I didn't pause to reason or to plan. On hearing that long drawn out cryof horror, I dashed blindly down the corridor at top speed, followed itround to the right and then, catching sight of a small staircase, rushedup it three steps at a time. As I reached the top I heard a loud crysomewhere on the floor below. Then a door banged, there was the sound ofrunning feet and ... silence.

  I found myself on the next floor in a corridor similar to the one I hadjust left. Like it, it was desolate and dimly lit. Like it, it showedroom after room silent and empty. Agitated as I was, the contrast withthe bright and busy vestibule and the throng of uniformed servants belowwas so marked that it struck me with convincing force. Even the hotels,it seemed, were part and parcel of the great German publicity bluffwhich I had noted in my reading of the German papers at Rotterdam.

  I had no plan in my head, only a wild desire to put as much distance aspossible between me and that ape-man in the room below. So, afterpausing a moment to listen and draw breath, I started off again.Suddenly a door down the corridor, not ten paces away from me, openedand a woman came out. I stopped dead in my headlong course, but it wastoo late and I found myself confronting her.

  She was young and very beautiful with masses of thick brown hairclustering round a very white forehead. She was in evening dress, allin white, with an ermine wrap.

  Even as I looked at her I knew her and she knew me.

  "Monica," I whispered.

  "Why! Desmond!" she said.

  A regular hubbub echoed from below. Voices were crying out, doors werebanging, there was the sound of feet.

  The girl was speaking, saying in her low and pleasant voice phrases thatwere vague to me about her surprise, her delight at seeing me. But I didnot listen to her. I was straining my ears towards that volume ofchaotic noises which came swelling up from below.

  "Monica!" I interrupted swiftly, "have you any place to hide me? Thisplace is dangerous for me.... I must get away. If you can't save me,don't stay here but get away yourself as fast as you can. They're afterme and if they catch you with me it will be bad for you!"

  Without a word the girl turned round to the room she had just left. Shebeckoned to me, then knocked and went in. I followed her. It was a big,pleasant bedroom, elegantly furnished with a soft carpet and silkhangings, and I know not what, with shaded lights and flowers inprofusion. Sitting up in bed was a stout, placid-looking woman in a pinksilk kimono with her hair coquettishly braided in two short pigtailswhich hung down on either side of her face.

  Monica closed the door softly behind her.

  "Why, Monica!" she exclaimed in horror--and her speech was that of theUnited States--"what on earth ...?"

  "Not a word, Mary, but let me explain...."

  "But for land's sake, Monica...."

  "Mary, I want you to help...."

  "But say, child, a man ... in my bedroom ... at this time o' night...."

  "Oh, shucks, Mary! let me talk."

  The distress of the woman in bed was so comic that I could scarcely helplaughing. She had dragged the bed-clothes up till only her eyes could beseen. Her pigtails bobbed about in her emotion.

  "Now, Mary dear, listen here. You're a friend of mine. This is DesmondOkewood, another, a very old and dear friend of mine too. Well, youknow, Mary, this isn't a healthy country these times for an Englishofficer. That's what Desmond here is. I didn't know he was in Germany. Idon't know a thing about him except what he's told me and that's thathe's in danger and wants me to help him. I met him outside and broughthim right in here, as I know you would want me to, wouldn't you, dear?"

  The lady poked her nose over the top of the bed-clothes.

  "Present the gentleman properly, Monica!" she said severely.

  "Captain Okewood ... Miss Mary Prendergast," said Monica.

  The lady's head, pigtails and all, now appeared. She appeared to besomewhat mollified.

  "I can't say I approve of your way of doing things, Monica," sheobserved, but less severely than before, "and I can't think what anEnglish officer wants in my bedroom at ten minutes of two in themorning, but if those Deutschers want to find him, perhaps I canunderstand!"

  Here she smiled affectionately on the beautiful girl at my side.

  "Ah! Mary, you're a dear," replied Monica.

  "I knew you'd help us. Why, a British officer in Germany ... isn't ittoo thrilling?"

  She turned to me.

  "But, Des," she said, "what do you want me to do?"

  I knew I could trust Monica and I resolved I would trust her friendtoo... she looked a white woman all right. And if she was a friend ofMonica's, her heart would be in the right place. Francis and I had knownMonica all our lives almost. Her father had lived for years ... indeedto the day of his death ... in London as the principal Europeanrepresentative of a big American financial house. They had lived nextdoor to us in London and Francis and I had known Monica from the dayswhen she was a pretty kid in short skirts until she had made her debutand the American ambassadress had presented her at Buckingham Palace. Atvarious stages of our lives, both Francis and I had been in love withher, I believe, but my life in the army had kept me much abroad, soFrancis had seen most of her and had been the hardest hit.

  Then the father died and Monica went travelling abroad in great state,as befits a young heiress, with a prodigiously respectable Americanchaperon and a retinue of retainers. I never knew the rights of the casebetween her and Francis, but at one of the German embassies abroad--Ithink in Vienna--she met the young Count Rachwitz, head of one of thegreat Silesian noble houses, and married him.

  It was not on the usual rock--money--that this German-American marriagewas wrecked, for the Count was very wealthy himself. I had supposed thatthe German man's habitual attitude of mind towards women had not suitedthe girl's independent spirit on hearing that Monica, a few years afterher marriage, had left her husband and gone to live in America. I hadnot seen her since she left London, and, though we wrote to one anotherat intervals, I had not heard from her since the war started and had noidea that she had returned to Germany. Monica Rachwitz was, in fact, thelast person I should ever have expected to meet in Berlin in war-time.

  So, as briefly as I could and listening intently throughout for anysounds from the corridor, I gave the two women the story of thedisappearance of Francis and my journey into Germany to look for him. Atthe mention of my brother's name, I noticed that the girl stiffened andher face grew rigid, but when I told her of my fears for his safety herblue eyes seemed to me to grow dim. I described to them my adventure inthe hotel at Rotterdam, my reception in the house of General von Boden,and my interview at the Castle, ending with the experiences of thatnight, the trap laid for me at the hotel and my encounter with Clubfootin the room below. Two things only I kept back: the message from Francisand the document. I decided within myself that the fewer people in thosesecrets the safer they would be. I am afraid, therefore, that my accountof my interview with the Emperor was a trifle garbled, for I made outthat I did not know why I was bidden to the presence and that ourconversation was interrupted before I could discover the
reason.

  The two women listened with grave faces. Only once did Monica interruptme. It was when I mentioned General von Boden.

  "I know the beast," she said. "But, oh, Des!" she exclaimed, "you seemto have fallen right among the top set in this country. They're a badlot to cross. I fear you are in terrible danger."

  "I believe you, Monica," I answered, dolefully enough. "And that's justwhere I feel such a beast for throwing myself upon your mercy in thisway. But I was pretty desperate when I met you just now and I didn'tknow where to turn. Still, I want you to understand that if you can onlyget me out of this place I shall not trouble you further. I came to thiscountry on my own responsibility and I'm going through with it alone. Ihave no intention of implicating anybody else along with me. But Iconfess I don't believe it is possible to get away from this hotel.They're watching every door by now. Besides..."

  I stopped abruptly. A noise outside caught my listening ear. Footstepswere approaching along the corridor. I heard doors open and shut. Theywere hunting for me, floor by floor, room by room.

  "Open that wardrobe," said a voice from the bed: a firm, business-likevoice that was good to hear. "Open it and get right in, young man; butdon't go mussing up my good dresses whatever you do! And you, Monica,quick! Switch off those lights all but this one by the bed. Good! Now goto the door and ask them what they mean by making this noise at thistime of night with me ill and all!"

  I got into the wardrobe and Monica shut me in. I heard the bedroom dooropen, then voices. I waited patiently for five minutes, then thewardrobe door opened again.

  "Come out, Des," said Monica, "and thank Mary Prendergast for hercleverness."

  "What did they say?" I asked.

  "That reception clerk was along. He was most apologetic--they know mehere, you see. He told me how a fellow had made a desperate attack upona gentleman on the floor below and had got away. They thought he must behiding somewhere in the hotel. I told him I'd been sitting here for anhour chatting with Miss Prendergast and that we hadn't heard a sound.They went away then!"

  "You won't catch any Deutschers fooling Mary Prendergast," said thejovial lady in the bed; "but, children, what next?"

  Monica spoke--quite calmly. She was always perfectly self-possessed.

  "My brother is stopping with me in our apartment in theBendler-Strasse," she said. "You remember Gerry, Des--he got all smashedup flying, you know, and is practically a cripple. He's been so muchbetter here that I've been trying to get an attendant to look after him,to dress him and so on, but we couldn't find anybody; men are so scarcenowadays! You could come home with me, Des, and take this man's placefor a day or two ... I'm afraid it couldn't be longer, for one wouldhave to register you with the police--every one has to be registered,you know--and I suppose you have no papers that are any good--now."

  "You are too kind, Monica," I answered, "but you risk too much and Ican't accept."

  "It's no risk for a day or two," she said. "I am a person of consequencein official Germany, you know, with my husband A.D.C. to Marshal vonMackensen: and I can always say I forgot to send in your papers. If theycome down upon me afterwards I should say I meant to register you buthad to discharge you suddenly ... for drink!"

  "But how can I get away from here?" I objected.

  "I guess we can fix that too," she replied. "My car is coming for me attwo--it must be that now--I have been at a dance downstairs--one of theRadolin girls is getting married to-morrow--it was so deadly dull I ranup here and woke up Mary Prendergast to talk. You shall be my chauffeur!I know you drive a car! You ought to be able to manage mine ... it's aMercedes."

  "I can drive any old car," I said, "but I'm blessed ..."

  "Wait there!" cried this remarkable girl, and ran out of the room.

  For twenty minutes I stood and made small talk with Miss Prendergast.They were the longest twenty minutes I have ever spent. I was dead tiredin any case, but my desperate position kept my thoughts so busy that,for all my endeavours to be polite, I fear my conversation was extremelydistraught.

  "You poor boy!" suddenly said Miss Mary Prendergast, totally ignoring aprofound remark I was making regarding Mr. Wilson's policy, "don't yougo on talking to me! Sit down on that chair and go to sleep! You lookjust beat!"

  I sat down and nodded in the arm-chair.

  Suddenly I was awake. Monica stood before me. She drew from under hercape a livery cap and uniform.

  "Put these things on," she said, "and listen carefully. When you leavehere, turn to the right and take the little staircase you will find onthe right. Go down to the bottom, go through the glass doors, and acrossthe room you will find there, to a door in a corner which leads to theballroom entrance of the hotel. I will give you my ermine wrap to carry.I shall be waiting there. You will help me on with my cloak and escortme to the car. Is that clear?"

  "Perfectly."

  "Now, pay attention once more, for I shall not be able to speak to youagain. I shall have to give you your directions for finding the way tothe Bendler-Strasse."

  She did so and added:

  "Drive carefully, whatever you do. If we had a smash and the policeintervened, it might be most awkward for you."

  "But your chauffeur," I said, "what will he do?"

  "Oh, Carter," she answered carelessly, "he's tickled to death ... he'sAmerican, you see ... he drove me out into the Tiergarten just now andtook off his livery, then drove me back here, hopped off and went home."

  "But can you trust him?" I asked anxiously.

  "Like myself," she said. "Besides, Carter's been to Belgium ... he droveCount Rachwitz, my husband, while he was on duty there. And Carterhasn't forgotten what he saw in Belgium!"

  She gave me the key of the garage and further instructions how to putthe car up. Carter would give me a bed at the garage and would bring meround to the house early in the morning as if I were applying for thejob of male attendant for Gerry.

  "I will go down first," Monica said, "so as not to keep you waiting. My,but they're rattled downstairs--all the crowd at Olga von Radolin'sdance have got hold of the story and the place is full of policemen. Butthere'll be no danger if you walk straight up to me in the hall andkeep your face turned away from the crowd as much as possible."

  She kissed Miss Prendergast and slipped away. What a splendid pair ofwomen they were: so admirably cool and resourceful: they seemed to havethought of everything.

  "Good night, Miss Prendergast," I said. "You have done me a good turn. Ishall never forget it!" And as the only means at my disposal for showingmy gratitude, I kissed her hand.

  She coloured up like a girl.

  "It's a long time since any one did that to a silly old woman like me,"she said musingly. "Was it you or your brother," she asked abruptly,"who nearly broke my poor girl's heart?"

  "I shouldn't like to say," I answered; "but I don't think, speakingpersonally, that Monica ever cared enough about me for me to pleadguilty."

  She sniffed contemptuously.

  "If that is so," she said, "all I can say is that you seem to have allthe brains of your family!"

  With that I took my leave.

  * * * * *

  I reached the ballroom vestibule without meeting a soul. The place wascrowded with people, officers in uniform, glittering with decorations,women in evening dress, coachmen, footmen, chauffeurs, waiters.Everybody was talking sixteen to the dozen, and there were such denseknots of people that at first I couldn't see Monica. Two policemen werestanding at the swing-doors leading into the street, and with them acivilian who looked like a detective. I caught sight of Monica, almostat the detective's elbow, talking to two very elegant-looking officers.I pushed my way across the vestibule, turned my back on the detectiveand stood impassively beside her.

  "Ah! there you are, Carter!" she said. "Gute Nacht, Herr Baron! Aufwiedersehen, Durchlaucht!"

  The two officers kissed her hand whilst I helped her into her wrap. ThenI marched straight out of the swing-doors in front of her,
lookingneither to right nor to left, past the detective and the two policemen.The detective may have looked at me: if so, I didn't perceive it. I hadmade up my mind not to see him.

  Outside Monica took the lead and brought me over to a chocolate-colouredlimousine drawn up at the pavement. I noted with dismay that the enginewas stopped. That might mean further delay whilst I cranked up. But afriendly chauffeur standing by seized the handle and started the enginewhilst I assisted Monica into the car, and the next moment we weregliding smoothly over the asphalt under the twinkling arc-lamps.

  The Bendler-Strasse is off the Tiergarten, not far from the Esplanade,and I found my way there without much difficulty. I flatter myself thatboth Monica and I played our parts well, and I am sure nothing couldhave been more professional than the way I helped her to alight. It wasan apartment house and she had the key of the front door, so, afterseeing her safely within doors, I returned to the car and drove it roundto the garage by a carriage-way leading to the rear of the premises.

  As I unlocked the double doors of the garage, a man came down a ladderoutside the place leading to the upper room.

  "Did it work all right, sir?" he asked.

  "Is that Carter?" I said.

  "Sure that's me," came the cheery response. "Stand by now and we'll runher in. Then I'll show you where you are to sleep!"

  We stowed the car away and he took me upstairs to his quarters, a brightlittle room with electric light, a table with a red cloth, a cheerfulopen fire and two beds. The walls were ornamented with pictures cut fromthe American Sunday supplements, mostly feminine and horsy studies.

  "It's a bit rough, mister," said Carter, "but it's the best I can do.Gee! but you look that dawg-gorn tired I guess you could sleepanywheres!"

  He was a friendly fellow, pleasant-looking in an ugly way, with a buttonnose and honest eyes.

  "Say, but I like to think of the way we fooled them Deutschers," hechuckled. He kept on chuckling to himself whilst I took off my boots andbegan to undress.

  "That there is your bed," he said, pointing; "the footman used to sleepthere but they grabbed him for the army. There's a pair of Mr. Gerry'spyjamas for you and you'll find a cup of cocoa down warming by the fire.It's all a bit rough, but it's the best we can do. I guess you want togo to sleep mortal bad, so I'll be going down. The bed's clean... thereare clean sheets on it...."

  "But I won't turn you out of your room," I said. "There are two beds.You must take yours."

  "Don't you fret yourself about me," he answered. "I'll make myselfcomfortable down in the garage. I don't often see a gentleman in thisdawg-gorn country, and when I do I know how to treat him."

  He wouldn't listen to me, but stumped off down the stairs. As he went Iheard him murmuring to himself:

  "Gee! but we surely fooled those Deutschers some!"

  I drank this admirable fellow's cocoa; I warmed myself at his fire.Then with a thankful heart I crawled into bed and sank into a deep anddreamless sleep.