The Red Symbol

by John Ironside

  CHAPTER IX

  NOT AT BERLIN

  "Hanged, or condemned to penal servitude for life."

  There fell a dead silence after Jim Cayley uttered those ominous words.He waited for me to speak, but for a minute or more I was dumb. He hadvoiced the fear that had been on me more or less vaguely ever since Ibroke open the door and saw Cassavetti's corpse; and that had takendefinite shape when I heard Freeman's assertion concerning "a red-hairedwoman."

  And yet my whole soul revolted from the horrible, the appallingsuspicion. I kept assuring myself passionately that she was, she mustbe, innocent; I would stake my life on it!

  Now, after that tense pause, I turned on Jim furiously.

  "What do you mean? Are you mad?" I demanded.

  "No, but I think you are," Jim answered soberly. "I'm not going toquarrel with you, Maurice, or allow you to quarrel with me. As I toldyou before, I am only warning you, for your own sake, and for Anne's.You know, or suspect at least--"

  "I don't!" I broke in hotly. "I neither know nor suspect that--thatshe--Jim Cayley, would you believe Mary to be a murderess, even if allthe world declared her to be one? Wouldn't you--"

  "Stop!" he said sternly. "You don't know what you're saying, you youngfool! My wife and Anne Pendennis are very different persons. Shut up,now! I say you've got to hear me! I have not accused Anne Pendennis ofbeing a murderess. I don't believe she is one. But I do believe that, ifonce suspicion is directed towards her, she would find it verydifficult, if not impossible, to prove her innocence. You ought to knowthat, too, and yet you are doing your best, by your ridiculous behavior,to bring suspicion to bear on her."

  "I!"

  "Yes, you! If you want to save her, pull yourself together, man; playyour part for all it's worth. It's an easy part enough, if you'd onlydismiss Anne Pendennis from your mind; forget that such a personexists. You've got to give evidence at this inquest. Well, give itstraightforwardly, without worrying yourself about any side issues; and,for Heaven's sake, get and keep your nerves under control, or--"

  He broke off, and we both turned, as the door opened and a smartparlor-maid tripped into the room.

  "Beg pardon, sir. I didn't know you were here," she said with the demuregrace characteristic of the well-trained English servant. "It's nearlysupper-time, and I came to see if there was anything else wanted. I laidthe table early."

  "All right, Marshall. I've been giving Mr. Wynn some supper, as he hasto be off. You needn't sound the gong for a few minutes."

  "Very well, sir. If you'd ring when you're ready, I'll put the thingsstraight."

  She retreated as quietly as she had come, and I think we both felt thather entrance and exit relieved the tension of our interview.

  I rose and held out my hand.

  "Thanks, Jim. I can't think how you know as much as you evidently do;but, anyhow, I'll take your advice. I'll be off, now, and I won't comeback to-night, as Mary asked me to. I'd rather be alone. See you bothto-morrow. Good night."

  I walked back to Westminster, lingering for a considerable time by theriver, where the air was cool and pleasant. The many pairs of loverspromenading the tree-shaded Embankment took no notice of me, or I ofthem.

  As I leaned against the parapet, watching the swift flowing murky tide,I argued the matter out.

  Jim was right. I had behaved like an idiot in the garden just now. Well,I would take his advice and buck up; be on guard. I would do more thanthat. I would not even vex myself with conjectures as to how much heknew, or how he had come by that knowledge. It was impossible to adoptone part of his counsel--impossible to "forget that such a person asAnne Pendennis ever existed;" but I would only think of her as the girlI loved, the girl whom I would see in Berlin within a few days.

  I wrote to her that night, saying nothing of the murder, but only that Iwas unexpectedly detained, and would send her a wire when I started, sothat she would know when to expect me. Once face to face with her, Iwould tell her everything; and she would give me the key to the mysterythat had tortured me so terribly. But I must never let her know that Ihad doubted her, even for an instant!

  The morning mail brought me an unexpected treasure. Only a post-card,pencilled by Anne herself in the train, and posted at Dover.

  It was written in French, and was brief enough; but, for the time being,it changed and brightened the whole situation.

  "I scarcely hoped to see you at the station, _mon ami_; there was so little time. What haste you must have made to get there at all! Shall I really see you in Berlin? I do want you to know my father. And you will be able to tell me your plans. I don't even know your destination! The Reichshof, where we stay, is in Friedrich Strasse, close to Unter den Linden. _Au revoir!_

  A. P."

  A simple message, but it meant much to me. I regarded it as a proof thather hurried journey was not a flight, but a mere coincidence.

  Mary had a post-card, too, from Calais; just a few words with thepromise of a letter at the end of the journey. She showed it to me whenI called round at Chelsea on Monday evening to say good-bye once more.The inquest opened that morning, and was adjourned for a week. Onlyformal and preliminary evidence was taken--my own principally; and I wasable to arrange to leave next day. Inspector Freeman made the orthodoxstatement that "the police were in possession of a clue which they werefollowing up;" and I had a chat with him afterwards, and tried to ferretout about the clue, but he was close as wax.

  We parted on the best of terms, and I was certain he did not guess thatmy interest in the affair was more than the natural interest of onewho was as personally concerned in it as I was, with the insatiablecuriosity of the journalist superadded. Whatever I had been yesterday,I was fully master of myself to-day.

  Jim was out when I reached Chelsea, somewhat to my relief; and Mary wasalone for once.

  She welcomed me cordially, as usual, and commended my improvedappearance.

  "I felt upset about you last night, Maurice; you weren't a bit likeyourself. And what on earth did you mean in the drawing-room--aboutAnne?" she asked.

  "Sheer madness," I said, with a laugh. "Jim made that peg too strong,and I'm afraid I was--well, a bit screwed. So fire away, if you want tolecture me; though, on my honor, it was the first drink I'd had allday!"

  I knew by the way she had spoken that Jim had not confided hissuspicions to her. I didn't expect he would.

  She accepted my explanation like the good little soul she is.

  "I never thought of that. It's not like you, Maurice. But I won'tlecture you this time, though you did scare me! I guess you felt prettybad after finding that poor fellow. I felt shuddery enough even at thethought of it, considering that we knew him, and had all been togethersuch a little while before. Has the murderer been found yet?"

  "Not that I know of. The inquest's adjourned, and I'm off to-morrow.I'll have to come back if necessary; but I hope it won't be. Any messagefor Anne? I shall see her on Wednesday."

  "No, only what I've already written: that I hope her father's better,and that she'd persuade him to come back with her. She was to havestayed with us all summer, as you know; and I'm not going to send hertrunks on till she writes definitely that she can't return. My privateopinion of Mr. Pendennis is that he's a cranky and exacting old pig! Heresented Anne's leaving him, and I surmise this illness of his is onlya ruse to get her back again. Anne ought to be firmer with him!"

  I laughed. Mary, as I knew, had always been "firm" with her "poppa," inher girlish days; had, in fact, ruled him with a rod of iron--cased invelvet, indeed, but inflexible, nevertheless!

  I started on my delayed journey next morning, and during the long dayand night of travel my spirits were steadily on the up-grade.

  Cassavetti, the murder, all the puzzling events of the last few days,receded to my mental horizon--vanished beyond it--as boat and train boreme swiftly onwards, away from England, towards Anne Pendennis.

  Berlin at last. I drove from the
Potsdam station to the nearestbarber's,--I needed a shave badly, though I had made myself otherwisefairly spick and span in the toilet car,--and thence to the hotel Annehad mentioned.

  She would be expecting me, for I had despatched the promised wire when Istarted.

  "Send my card up to Fraulein Pendennis at once," I said to the waiterwho came forward to receive me.

  He looked at me--at the card--but did not take it.

  "Fraulein Pendennis is not here," he asserted. "Herr Pendennis hasalready departed, and the Fraulein has not been here at all!"