"Can I see her?" I asked, and received a ready a.s.sent.

I went to her with the mere intention of offering a.s.sistance, the last thing in my thoughts being that a momentous discovery was to be the result of the interview.

CHAPTER XIV

THE MURDERER

It will be readily understood that at the moment of my leaving the police official to go to Hagar Ziegler I was in a very unusual mood.

Within the past twenty-four hours I had been within an ace of losing my life; I had seriously wounded if not actually killed a fellow-creature in order to escape; I had endured the bitter mortification of police detention; and had returned to Berlin to take up the thread of an exciting struggle. And now on the top of all had come the murder of the Jew, with its consequences of personal hazard to myself and its disastrous menace to my plans. The examination by the police had, moreover, been a great strain, and when I rose from it I felt both nervous and unstrung.

I say this in order to account in some measure for an act which was altogether foreign to my customary habit, and a paltering and cowardly hesitation which I have never been quite able to understand.

I had been treading on very ticklish ground in that part of the questioning which had related to my connexion with Ziegler's political a.s.sociates, and I had been most unpleasantly conscious that a very little thing would have induced the official to order my detention. At a time when in Althea's interests my freedom was so essential, such a result would have been fatal, and the relief with which I had heard that I could leave the house was indescribable.

This was the predominant feeling as I went to the room to see Hagar. It was my part to a.s.sume indifference, however, and I plunged my hands into my pockets with every appearance of casual a.s.surance.

As I did so my heart seemed to stop suddenly; a shiver of dread chilled me to the marrow; every muscle grew instantly tense and set; and then with a bound the blood began to rush through my veins at a rate which set every pulse throbbing violently.

My fingers had touched the ring which I had taken from the dead man's grasp, the existence of which until that moment I had forgotten.

In an instant the conviction rushed on me, that if I returned to the official and gave it him he would refuse to accept my explanation, would connect me in some way with the crime, and have me detained if not actually arrested.

The ring was certainly the most important clue; for it was virtually certain that the owner of it was the man who had done the deed, and it was my clear duty to hand it over to the police. To evade that duty would be a piece of paltry cowardice. I realized all that clearly, but at that moment I was a coward. I was afraid of being prevented from making any further efforts on Althea's behalf. And that fear prevailed.

Instead of returning with it to the official, I slipped it on to my finger and continued my way to see Hagar. It may appear like the language of exaggeration to say that the ring seemed to burn the flesh like a band of fire; but my nerves were so high-strung at the moment, that that was precisely the sensation, and my hand was trembling like that of a detected thief.

I was a little surprised to find that Hagar had almost entirely shaken off her former agitation. This had apparently been caused as much by her fears for her own life as by the horror at her father's fate; and now that she was safe, she had set herself to the task of helping the police to the utmost in the work of tracing the murderer.

The police were going to remain in the house, and she had readily expressed her willingness to stay there also. For this purpose she had sent for a relative to come and be with her. I concluded that the police were resolved to keep her under close observation; but she did not appreciate this fact.

My offers of help were therefore superfluous.

"You have been kindness itself, Herr Bastable. I shall never forget that I owe you my life. Those men would have killed me, as they had killed my poor father, had you not been here with me."

"Is there nothing more I can do for you?"

"No; unless you can help me to find those villains. I should know them again and so would you, I am sure."

"Yes. But I do not think they were guilty of this."

"I know they were. Why else were they here?" she cried. She was manifestly still holding to what I believed to be a quite mistaken belief; but I had already given my opinion to the police, and to argue with her was needless.

"I am going now, Fraulein. There is no message I can take for you anywhere? Nothing I can do?"

She hesitated, and after a pause said with some sign of anxiety: "I sent to Herr von Felsen, but he has not come?" and she looked at me half doubtfully, half questioningly.

"Would you like me to see him?"

"You are not friendly."

"I am your friend, remember that. I will certainly go to him if you wish."

"Oh, if you would!" she cried, her face lighting with a smile of grat.i.tude.

"Of course I will," I agreed, and held out my hand.

She was an emotional girl, and instead of merely shaking my hand she seized it, and was in the act of pressing her lips to it, when she paused and glanced up in my face with a smile.

"It is a coincidence," she said, still holding my hand.

"What is?"

"Your ring. It is a facsimile of one I gave Hugo."

For an instant the room seemed to reel about me. I knew that she put her lips to my hand and that it fell listlessly to my side as she released it. I knew that next she was looking fixedly and with alarm at some change in my face, and I heard her voice, faint and as if at a distance.

"You are ill, Herr Bastable. You are white as death. What is the matter?"

I must have staggered, too, for she put out her hands and held me.

But at that I made a strenuous effort. "I am all right. This--this has all tried my nerves. I shall be all right in the air"; and with that I walked none too steadily out of the house, dazed and thunderstruck by the sinister truth which her words had revealed with this stunning suddenness.

As soon as I reached the street I stood for a few moments breathing deep draughts of the cool air while I sought to steady my bewildered wits, and then plunged along at a rapid pace.

So it was von Felsen himself who was the murderer. It was all clear enough to me soon. I could see his wily hand throughout. It was he who had started the suspicion against Ziegler with hints and insinuations of treachery dropped stealthily in likely quarters. He had planned it all as a safe background for the deed he contemplated, and had probably written the threatening letter with his own hand.

Driven to bay by the old Jew's determination to force the marriage with Hagar and thus wreck his prospects in every other direction, he had seen that his only escape lay in Ziegler's death; and he had been callous enough to select the very eve of the marriage for the deed.

I recalled what Hagar had said about her father having told her that he had a very private and important interview that night, and must not be disturbed. Von Felsen had arranged that easily enough no doubt from his knowledge of his victim's affairs. He would have little difficulty, moreover, in getting into the Jew's house and to the Jew's room secretly; and the rest was easy to guess.

There had probably been a struggle of some sort in which the ring had been pulled off von Felsen's finger; but he had found his chance to deliver the death-thrust in the back, and in his unnerved confusion afterwards he had not missed the ring.

I believed him to be as great a coward as he was a scoundrel, and at such a moment of crisis his thoughts would be too intent upon escaping from the scene of his crime to think of anything else.

And now what ought I to do?

As I began to consider this, the thought flashed upon me that indirectly I had been the cause of the Jew's death. It was my action in forcing on the marriage which had led von Felsen to this desperate means of preventing it. I had thrust him into a comer from which he could see no other means of escape.

How often I had regretted that act of mine! Even Althea herself had deemed it a mistake.

Regrets were useless now, however. I had to decide what line to take in view of the fateful proof which had come into my possession. I had his life in my hands. Was I to use the power to further my own purposes or to help justice?

I had to a certain extent compromised myself by not disclosing the possession of the ring to the police before I left the Jew's house, and the fears which had operated to prevent my doing so had no doubt been well grounded. But this did not prevent me from seeing plainly that my duty was to return and state all I knew and give up the evidence I had.