Mr. Frohling remained silent. But his wife said wistfully, "Ach, yes, Mrs. Hegner. It is a pity now; but still, the officers they have been kind to us, really very kind. One of them even said it would not have made much difference----"

Her husband interrupted her. "He nothing, Jane, said of the kind! That it _ought_ not any difference to have made was what say he did. I, who have in England lived since the year 1874; I, who England love; I, whose son will soon for England be fighting!"

"My husband said," began Mrs. Hegner---- And again Mr. Frohling interrupted rather rudely: "You need not tell me what your husband say,"

he remarked. "I know for myself exactly what Mr. Hegner say. If everything could be foreseen in this life we should all be very wise.

Mr. Hegner, he does foresee more than most people, and wise he is."

Mrs. Frohling drew her hostess a little aside. "Don't mind him," she whispered. "He is so unhappy. And yet we should be thankful, for the gentlemen officers are getting up a little testimonial fund for poor Frohling."

"I suppose you've saved a good bit, too?" said Mrs. Hegner with curiosity.

"Not much--not much! Only lately have we turned the corner----" Mrs.

Frohling sighed. Then her face brightened, and Mrs. Hegner looking round saw that Anna Bauer, Mrs. Otway's servant, was pushing her way through the crowd towards them.

Now pretty Polly disliked the old woman. Frau Bauer was not a person of any account, yet Manfred had ordered that she should be treated this evening with special consideration, and so Mrs. Hegner walked forward and stiffly shook hands with her latest guest.

CHAPTER VII

"Sit down, Frohling, sit down!"

The old barber, rather to his surprise, had been invited to follow his host into the Hegners' private parlour, a little square room situated behind the big front shop.

The floor of the parlour was covered with a large-patterned oilcloth.

There was a round mahogany pedestal table, too large for the room, and four substantial cane-backed armchairs. Till to-day there had always hung over the piano a large engraving of the German Emperor, and on the opposite wall a smaller oleograph picture of Queen Victoria with her little great-grandson, the Prince of Wales, at her knee. The German Emperor had now been taken down, and there was a patch of clean paper marking where the frame had hung.

As answer to Mr. Hegner's invitation, the older man sat down heavily in a chair near the table.

Both men remained silent for a moment, and a student of Germany, one who really knew and understood that amazing country, might well, had he seen the two sitting there, have regarded the one as epitomising the old Germany, and the other--naturalised Englishman though he now was--epitomising the new. Manfred Hegner was slim, active, and prosperous-looking; he appeared years younger than his age. Ludwig Frohling was stout and rather stumpy; he seemed older than he really was, and although he was a barber, his hair was long and untidy. He looked intelligent and thoughtful, but it was the intelligence and the thoughtfulness of the student and of the dreamer, not of the man of action.

"Well, Mr. Frohling, the International haven't done much the last few days, eh? I'm afraid you must have been disappointed." He of course spoke in German.

"Yes, I _have_ been disappointed," said the other stoutly, "very much disappointed indeed! But still, from this great crime good may come, even now. It has occurred to me that, owing to this war made by the great rulers, the people in Russia, as well as in my beloved Fatherland, may arise and cut their bonds."

A light came into the speaker's eyes, and Manfred Hegner looked at him in mingled pity and contempt. It was not his intention, however, to waste much time this evening listening to a foolish old man. In fact, he had hesitated as to whether he should include the Frohlings in his invitations--then he had thought that if he omitted to do so the fact might possibly come to the ears of the Dean. Frohling and the Dean had long been pleasantly acquainted. Then, again, it was just possible--not likely, but possible--that he might be able to get out of the ex-barber of the Witanbury garrison some interesting and just now valuable information.

"What are you going to do now?" he asked. "Have you made any plans yet?"

"We are thinking of going to London, and of making a fresh start there.

We have friends in Red Lion Square." Frohling spoke as if the words were being dragged out of him. He longed to tell the other man to mind his own business.

"You haven't a chance of being allowed to do that! Why, already, on the very first day, every German barber is suspected." The speaker gave a short, unpleasant laugh.

"I am not suspected. So!" exclaimed Frohling heatedly. "Not one single person has spoken as if he suspected me in this town! On the contrary, England is not harsh, Mr. Hegner. English people are too sensible and broad-minded to suspect harm where there is none. Indeed, they are not suspecting enough."

Strange to say, old Frohling's last sentence found an agreeable, even a comforting, echo in Mr. Hegner's heart. He looked up, and for the first time the expression on his face was really cordial. "Maybe you are right, Mr. Frohling. Most heartily do I desire it may be so! And yet--well, one cannot say people would be altogether wrong in suspecting barbers, for barbers hear a great deal of interesting conversation, is it not so?"

"That depends on their customers," said the other coldly. "I cannot say that I ever found the conversation of the young English officers here in Witanbury very illuminating."

"Not exactly illuminating," said the other cautiously. "But take the last few days? You must have heard a good deal of information as to coming plans."

"Not one word did I hear," said the other man quickly--"not one word, Mr. Hegner! Far more from my own intelligent, level-headed German a.s.sistant. He knew and guessed what none of these young gentlemen did--to what all the wicked intrigues of Berlin, Petersburg and Vienna, of the last ten days were tending."

"I have heard to-night--in fact it was the daughter of the Dean who mentioned it--that the British Army is going to Belgium," said Mr.

Hegner casually. "Is your son going to Belgium, Mr. Frohling?"

"Not that I know of," said the other. But a troubled look came over his face. He opened his mouth as if to add something, and then tightly shut it again.

Mr. Hegner had the immediate impression that old Frohling could have told him something worth hearing had he been willing to do so.

"Well, that is all," said the host with a dismissory air, as he got up from his seat. "I have many to see, many to advise to-night. One thing I _do_ tell you, Mr. Frohling. You may take it from me that if you wish to leave this place you should clear out quickly. They will be making very tiresome regulations soon--but not now, not for a few days. Fortunately for you, and for all those who have not taken out their certificates, there is no organisation in this country. As for thoroughness, they do not know the meaning of the word."

"I have sometimes wondered," observed Mr. Frohling mildly, "why you, who dislike England so much, should have taken out your certificate, Mr.

Hegner. In your place I should have gone back to America."

"You have no right, no business, to say that I dislike England!" cried his host vehemently. "It is a wicked thing to say to me on such a day as this! It is a thing that might do me great harm in this city of which I am a Councillor."

"It is not a thing that I should say to any one but you," returned the old man. "But nevertheless it is true. We have not very often met--but every time we have met you have spoken in a disagreeable, a derogatory, a jeering way of what is now your country."

"And you," said Mr. Hegner, his eyes flashing, "have often spoken to me in a derogatory, a jeering, a disagreeable way of Germany--of the country where we were each born, of our _real_ Fatherland."

"It is not of Germany that I speak ill," said the older man wearily; "it is of what a few people have made of my beloved country. To-day we see the outcome of their evil doings. But all that is transitory. I am an old man, and yet I hope to see a free Germany rise up."

He walked through into the shop, and beckoned to his wife. Then they both turned towards the door through which they had gained admittance earlier in the evening.

Mr. Hegner smoothed out his brow, and a mechanical smile came to his lips. He was glad the old Socialist had cleared out early. It is not too much to say that Manfred Hegner hated Frohling. He wondered who would get the German barber's job. He knew a man, a sharp, clever fellow, who like himself had lived for a long time in America--who was, in fact, an American citizen, though he had been born in Hamburg--who would be the very man for it. Perhaps now was scarcely the moment to try and get yet another foreigner, even if only this time an American, into the neighbourhood of the barracks.

The owner of the Witanbury Stores went over to the place where Anna Bauer was sitting talking to the mother of one of Mr. Hegner's German employes. To call that young man German is, however, wrong, for some six weeks ago he had become naturalised. Well for him that he had done so, otherwise he would have had now to go back to the Fatherland and fight.

His mother was the one really happy person in the gathering to-night, for the poor woman kept thanking G.o.d and Mr. Hegner in her heart for having saved her son from an awful fate. Treating the mother of his shopman as if she had not been there, Mr. Hegner bent towards the other woman.

"Frau Bauer," he said graciously, "come into our parlour for a few moments. I should like a little chat with you."

Anna got up and followed him through the crowd. What was it Mr. Hegner wanted to say to her? She felt slightly apprehensive. Surely he was going to tell her that now, owing to the war, he would have to stop the half-commission he was still giving her on Mrs. Otway's modest orders?

Her heart rose in revolt. An Englishman belonging to the type and cla.s.s of Anna Bauer would have determined "to have it out" with him, but she knew well that she would not have the courage to say anything at all if he did this mean thing.

To her great surprise, after she had followed him into the parlour, Mr.

Hegner turned the key in the lock.

"I have but a very little to say," he exclaimed jovially, "but, while I say it, I do not care to be interrupted! It is more cosy so. Sit down, Frau Bauer, sit down!"

Still surprised, and still believing that her host was going to "best"

her in some way, Anna did sit down. She fixed her light-blue, short-sighted eyes watchfully on his face. What a pity it was that he so greatly resembled her adored Kaiser!