as soon as we were in the street von gratzen linked his arm in mine. "it won't do you any harm to be seen in public with me," he said jestingly; and even in that half-bantering remark he managed to convey a subtle meaning.

"i can understand that, sir."

"and now i want to hear all about that affair yesterday."

"i expect you've already heard what there is to tell."

"of course i've had my wife's and nita's story, but i want yours. i may need your statement for official purposes, you see."

"i would rather not have to do anything official," i replied. an appearance as witness in any police proceedings was unthinkable.

"don't let that worry you; i'll make it all right. but the affair was by far the most serious of the sort we've had, and i want all the facts available. that's all."

he listened to my description of the scene; questioned me about the men in it particularly, asking if i could recognize them; and laughed outright at the story of the scramble for the money.

"it was a stroke of genius, boy; positive genius," he declared, and asked me how much i had thrown away. a very german touch. i expected him to offer to repay me; but he spared me that and let me continue the story. when i came to the closing part, i made the most of hans' share, declaring that if it had not been for him the result would have been very serious, and that he had acted like the brave man he was.

it made an impression; but he did not evince anything like as much interest as in the other parts.

"you've left out one thing, haven't you, my boy? something that pleased me exceedingly and set me thinking. i mean about your being able to drive the car. nita says you not only drove like an expert, but were able to put the engine right."

nita had much better have held her tongue, was my thought. "i was awfully perplexed about it myself afterwards," i replied, feeling deucedly uncomfortable.

"you haven't had anything to do with cars since you came, have you?"

"not a thing, of course. that's what worried me. i just went up to it as if it was the most natural thing in the world—i didn't have to touch the engine, though—and got in and drove it."

"you see what it means, of course. why, that it was an instinctive recurrence of memory. it was most fortunate."

that was a matter of opinion, however; but as we reached the house then no more was said about it.

at lunch all the talk was on the subject of the scrap. they were full of it, and went over the ground again and again until one might have thought i had won the iron cross by some conspicuous act of most gallant bravery and resource.

that was the sentimental side, and, at first, when the baron and i were alone afterwards smoking in his sanctum, he grew even more embarrassingly flattering. "it's no good your trying to belittle the affair, my dear boy. if it hadn't been for you, heaven alone knows what would have happened to my wife and nita. i haven't a doubt that it would have killed the wife. she is not strong; she has been very ill; and is only just pulling round. the marvel is that she hasn't collapsed, as it is."

i tried to protest, but he wouldn't listen to me.

"i tell you my blood runs cold when i think what those devils would have done if they had got hold of her. i know that sort of berliners; they'd have torn the clothes off her back and mauled and beaten her without mercy. and it was only the fortunate fact that you were present and acted so bravely that saved her. i shall never forget it; never; and if there's anything i can ever do to prove that i mean what i say, i shall grip the chance with both hands."

"you are very kind, sir."

"don't talk in that way about kindness. i should be an ungrateful brute if i did not mean it. you can judge how i feel when i tell you that if my son had lived i would have him just like you;" and there was moisture in his eyes as he stretched out his hand and wrung mine impulsively.

that he was in earnest it seemed impossible to doubt. he sat looking at me steadily for a while and then surprised me. he leant forward and fixed his eyes on mine. "i want to ask you a question. are you sure you have never seen me before?"

rosa's warning flashed across my thoughts. this might be a trap; so i returned his look with equal steadiness and shook my head. "i don't recollect it, sir."

"try to think. try hard. look back over the years to when you were a boy."

of course i "tried," and equally of course failed.

he dropped back in his chair with a sigh which seemed to breathe the essence of sincere regret, and after a moment said with almost equal earnestness:

"you know all i have said to you; you believe it, believe that i am really a friend to you?"

"of course, sir. no one could speak as you have otherwise," i replied, smiling. it was a queer question.

"then, believing it, is there anything you would care to tell me?"

what the dickens did this mean? i smothered my doubts under another smile and then nodded. "there is one thing, sir." his face lighted and he was all expectation and interest on the instant.

"it's about the man you mentioned yesterday—count von erstein."

his look changed directly. all the light and eagerness died away and he put his cigar back in his lips. "oh, about him, is it? well?" he asked, as if the subject didn't interest him in the slightest.

but he listened carefully to the account of the interview with von erstein, squinting at me curiously whenever nessa's name was mentioned, and seemed sufficiently interested to put some questions about her.

"an ugly story, my boy, very ugly; although i'm not much surprised, knowing the man. but why have you told me?"

"because i wish you to be prepared if he still tries to carry out his infernal scheme."

he smiled. "and because you're naturally indignant, eh?"

"i am. for my cousin's sake. the two are very old friends."

"i see. then it's not for the girl's own sake?"

what the deuce was he driving at? his manner kept me guessing all the time. "partly for her sake, of course. that sort of beastliness always makes me wild."

"i can understand that, my boy, and am glad to hear it. just what i should expect of you. is she pretty?"

"i suppose she is in an english way," i replied, shrugging.

"it's not because she is english that you feel like this?"

"i hope i should feel much the same if she was a hottentot, sir."

"i wish all our young fellows were the same. well, for your sake, i'll see that she comes to no harm. i presume, however, that you are quite sure she is not really a spy? very serious, just now, you know."

"my cousin is, and she has known her many years."

"then why doesn't the girl go home?"

"it's her one absorbing wish, sir. she has been trying for months to get permission, but von erstein has managed to stop it."

he nodded once or twice and leant back in his chair thinking until he glanced at the clock and rose. "time's up. i must get back. i make a point of being back always to the tick. it's a hobby of mine. i'll think over all you've told me, for i'm interested in it; far more so than you may imagine. i'll make an inquiry or two about this miss caldicott, and if it's all right, she shall go home. you can tell your cousin so. but it's a long way and a bad time for her to travel alone."

"i don't think she would mind that a bit, sir."

"you make a very earnest champion, my boy; but let me give you a hint. don't let any one else get the same idea. i mustn't take you away with me now, unless you wish to make an enemy of my wife. you must stay and be heroized for a while. now mind, don't fail to come to me, if you're in any sort of difficulty," he said.

"i certainly will come, sir."

as we went out into the hall and were shaking hands, he said, "by the way, i've had the doctor's report about you; and gorlitz is very strong about our sending you to england to see if the environment would bring your memory back. what think you?"

it was all i could manage to prevent him seeing what i did think of it in reality, but i stammered, "i'm quite in your hands, sir."

he laughed softly and with such meaning. "perhaps we could kill two birds with one stone, then. how would it do for you to take this miss caldicott there with you?" and without waiting to hear my reply he went, leaving me in such amazement that i could have almost shouted for joy.

but did he mean it? or was it just a subtle test? a trap? i was worrying over this when his daughter came out to fetch me in for the "heroizing" business.

nita was quite a pretty girl, and now that she had recovered from the previous day's shock and had a rich colour in her cheeks and brightly shining eyes, i wasn't surprised at hans' infatuation.

"i do so want to speak to you alone," she said. "i want to thank——"

"my dear young lady, no one has been doing anything else since i entered the house. do give me a breathing space."

she laughed; and a particularly sweet merry laugh it was. "i understand; but this is something special; something else, i mean."

"oh! shall i guess?"

with a start and a vivid blush she dropped her eyes, fiddled nervously with her blouse for a moment, and then looked up and laughed again. "i don't mind your guessing," she challenged.

"something to do with——"

she interrupted with some vigorous nods. "you did tell some taradiddles though. hans didn't really do anything. i saw it all."

"if he had not rushed up to me just when i called him, my dear young lady, none of us would have got out of the scrape as easily as we did," i said seriously. it would never do for her to think small beer of her lover. "it was that and the way he went for the brutes that decided everything and sent them scuttling off."

"but he didn't do anything, herr lassen!"

"do you mean to tell me you didn't see him knock that dark brute, the biggest of them i mean, head foremost into the gutter?"

"did he really?" she cried, open-eyed.

"if you didn't see that, you can't have seen everything as you said."

"but he told me he hadn't a chance to do a thing."

"bravo, hans!" i exclaimed. "just like him. you wouldn't expect him to spread himself and swagger about his own pluck, would you?"

but all roads lead to rome and so did this one. "he declared it was all your own doing, and after the way you fought before, i——"

"come along, let's go to your mother," i broke in, and linking my arm in hers i moved toward the drawing-room door. "hans is one of the best; if he weren't, he wouldn't be so ready to give me the credit for what he himself did. but we can't have that, you know."

she held me back a moment. "what you said about him has done wonders with mother; changed her right round; and we're going together to the von reblings. oh, i do thank you so!" and being only a kid she squeezed my arm ecstatically.

i had to endure a bout of "heroizing," but something came out in the course of it that made me put my thinking cap on afterwards. nita playing chorus to her mother's praise as she repeated some of the pretty things von gratzen had said to her about me.

"i've never heard him speak in such a way of any one in my life before," she declared; "and he is so grieved about your extraordinary loss of memory. i think he is even rather provoked about it. he was in england as a young man, you know, and has made several visits there in later years."

"i did not know that," i said, pricking up my ears.

"he loves to talk of the country and the people, and, as you have just come from there, i am sure he is bitterly disappointed because you can't tell him about the things you saw and the people you met and all the rest of it."

"it would have been very interesting to me too," i said.

"you don't know how long you were there, i suppose?"

i shook my head. it seemed less mean somehow to do that than to lie outright in words; and it answered all the purpose quite as well.

"it must be a dreadful thing to lose one's memory," put in nita.

"it makes everything very difficult," i said with a shrug. it did.

"and yet you can remember everything that's happened since, can't you?" she persisted.

"perfectly. as perfectly as if i had never had that shock."

"it is odd."

her mother took up the running again then. "my husband thinks you must have been a very long time in england," she said.

"that's very interesting. why does he?"

"i don't know exactly. of course it can only be a guess. but he declares you are much more like an englishman than one of us. i fancy it's your reserved manner; the way he said you pronounced english to him; and then your knowing something of the english words of command. in fact he took you for an englishman at first; and he questioned me ever so closely, almost cross-examined me indeed, as i told him, about your fighting yesterday, the way you used your fists, and so on. i was quite amused."

my feeling was anything but amusement, however. "it's a thousand pities i can't tell him anything."

to my surprise this seemed to make her laugh, and i thought it prudent to join in the laugh. but it was something else which had tickled her. "there was one thing he insisted upon worrying us both about. you remember, nita?"

"do you mean the kicking, mother?" the latter nodded and nita continued. "i thought it awfully funny, herr lassen, to tell the truth; at least i should have done if it had been any one else; but father always has a strong motive in such things. if he asked me one question he must have asked fifty, i'm sure, taking me right over every incident of yesterday, to find out whether in beating off those awful men you had ever once used your feet. i told him i was sure you hadn't; and he seemed to think it was a most extraordinary thing for a german to have used only his fists. don't you think it silly?"

"i don't know quite what to think of it," i replied truthfully.

"for shame, nita, your father is never silly," said her mother severely; but nita had her own opinion about that, judging by the pout and shrug which the rebuke called forth.

there was a moment's pause, and this offered me a chance to change the subject by putting a question about the war work which both were doing; and soon afterwards i left the house.

it was clear as mud in a wineglass that von gratzen was still undecided about me. that close questioning about my method of fighting was disquieting; so was the reference to my reserved english manner; and the reference to my pronunciation, especially as i had rather plumed myself on my american accent. it all pointed to the conclusion that my nationality was suspect in his opinion.

he had been in england, too, and i myself knew how well he spoke the language. altogether he was probably as well able to spot an englishman as any one in the whole of berlin. and yet all the while i had been flattering myself that he had been completely hoodwinked.

at the same time no one could have shown me greater kindness. that he was really grateful for the previous day's affair was beyond doubt; it had appeared so to me anyhow; and his implied offer of help—that i should go to him in any trouble—made with such earnestness as to amount almost to insistence, all suggested an intention to be a friend.

there was the reference to nessa, again; his ready promise that she should be sent home "for my sake," and the startling proposal at the very last moment, that she should go in my charge, which had literally taken my breath away.

what was one to think? it was a very puzzle of puzzles, especially in view of the unreliable vagaries of german officials in general and of what rosa and the rest had said about von gratzen in particular.

what a lovely mix up it would be if his suggestion materialized and nessa and i were packed off together under official protection! it seemed a million times too good to be even thinkable. compared with such a gloriously gorgeous plan, our little conspiracy scheme seemed almost contemptibly mean and commonplace; scarcely worth bothering about for a moment. but it was best to have as many strings to the bow as possible, so i went to the von reblings' to hear if rosa had anything to tell me about it.

ought the others to be told of the fresh development? it seemed better not for the present. it was hard luck to have to keep such stunning news secret, but there was nothing to be gained by raising nessa's hopes until they were virtually certain to be fulfilled. what would she think of the notion? i hoped i could guess. being a bit of a sanguine ass, i started castle-building on the foundation, and by the time the karlstrasse was reached, i had planned, built, and furnished a very noble edifice indeed.

old gretchen opened the door as usual, and her look and start of surprise and general manner, suggesting something uncommonly like consternation, brought me down to earth and shattered my castle effectively.

"they are not at home, sir," she declared hurriedly; and instead of opening the door wide, she held it so as really to block my entrance. her obvious nervousness probably accounted for a step which at once roused suspicions.

"no one at all?"

"no, sir. they will not be home until late."

"that's a nuisance; but i'd better speak to miss caldicott."

"she's not in either, sir." the reply was given hesitatingly, and she made as if to shut the door.

a smile and a casual, "oh well, it doesn't matter," put her off her guard and her relief was shown in her change of look. "can i give them any message, sir?" she asked. but her relief vanished and gave place to greater concern than ever when i pushed the door open and stepped inside.

"that's a good idea, gretchen; i'll write them a little note," i said, as i passed her in the direction of the drawing-room.

she slipped before me and stood by the library. "you'll find paper and everything here, sir," she smirked.

it looked as if she wanted to keep me from the drawing-room; and it was not difficult to guess that she had been disturbed at her spy work there. it was a bad shot, however; for during the pause there came the murmur of voices in the drawing-room itself.

"you must be wrong, gretchen. they must have come in without your knowing. i can hear them."

"oh, no, sir. the door's locked. i have orders always to keep it locked when the countess is not at home;" and she held up the key in proof and slipped between me and the door.

i started with a great appearance of alarm and pushed past her. "then there's a thief in the house," i exclaimed.

at that instant there was the sound of some sort of commotion in the drawing-room; a cry of "how dare you?" in nessa's voice, followed by a sneering laugh, uncommonly like von erstein's.