Book 2 - Chapter 6. Falkenberg Fails

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_ BOOK TWO CHAPTER VI. FALKENBERG FAILS

Herr Freudenberg was dressed for the evening with his usual fastidious neatness. He had the air of a man who had been engaged for many nights in some arduous occupation. There were dark rims under his eyes, the lines upon his forehead were deeper. Nevertheless, he smiled with something of his old gayety as he accepted the chair which Julien placed for him.

"My dear Sir Julien," he said, "I have come a good many hundred miles at a most inconvenient moment for the sake of a brief conversation with you."

Julien raised his eyebrows.

"You surprise me!" he exclaimed. "I had no idea that the mission you spoke of was so urgent."

"Nor is it," Herr Freudenberg replied. "As a matter of fact, it scarcely exists at all, or if it did exist, it was created simply as a means of removing you from within the reach of practical politics for some months. I have foresight, you see, Sir Julien. I saw what was coming. Permit me to tell you that I do not like your letter in _Le Grand Journal_ yesterday, a letter which I understand appeared also in the London _Post_."

"I am sorry," Julien said calmly. "Still, to be perfectly frank, it wasn't written with a view of pleasing or displeasing you. It was written in a strenuous attempt to preserve the friendship between France and England."

"It is to be followed, I presume, by others?" Herr Freudenberg asked.

"It is the first of a series," Julien admitted.

"You know," Herr Freudenberg remarked, glancing at his finger-nails for a moment, "that it is most diabolically clever?"

"You flatter me," Julien murmured.

"Not at all. I have spoken the truth. I am here to know what price you will take to suppress the remainder of the series."

Julien considered.

"I will take," he replied, "the exact amount of the last war indemnity which was paid to you by France."

Herr Freudenberg smiled.

"A mere trifle to the war indemnity we shall be asking from England before very long."

"I am not avaricious," Julien declared. "Those are my terms."

Herr Freudenberg sighed.

"My friend," he said, "it would be better if you talked of this matter reasonably. There are other ways of securing the non-continuance of those letters than by purchase."

"Precisely," Julien answered, "but Paris, in its beaten thoroughfares, at any rate, is a law-abiding city. I don't fancy that I shall come to much grief here."

"A brave man," Herr Freudenberg remarked, "seldom believes that he will come to grief."

"If the blow falls, nevertheless, it is at least considerate of you that you bring me warning!"

"Rubbish!" Herr Freudenberg interposed. "Listen, Sir Julien, I ask you to consider this matter as a reasonable person. We don't want war. We don't mean to have war. But the desire of my Ministers--my own desire--really is to inflict a crushing diplomatic humiliation upon the present Government of Great Britain. It is composed of incompetent and objectionable persons. We desire to humiliate them. Yet who is it that we find taking up the cudgels on their behalf? You--the man whom they drove out, the man whom from sheer jealousy they ousted from their ranks. Why, you should be with us, not against us."

"I have no grudge whatever against my party," Julien said. "You seem to have been misinformed upon that subject. Besides, I am an Englishman and a patriot. The whole series of my articles will be written, and I shall do my best to point out exactly the means by which this present coolness between our two countries has been engineered."

"I will give you," Herr Freudenberg offered, "a million francs not to write those articles."

Julien pointed to the door.

"You are becoming offensive!"

Herr Freudenberg rose slowly to his feet. There was a little glitter in his eyes.

"I have gone out of my way," he declared, "to be friendly with you, most obstinate of Englishmen. That now is finished. You shall not write those articles."

"You threaten me?"

"I do!"

"There are times," Julien remarked quietly, "when I scarcely know whether to take you seriously. There is surely a little of the burlesque about such a statement?"

Herr Freudenberg shrugged his shoulders slightly.

"You think so? Nevertheless, no man whom I have ever threatened has done the thing against which I have warned him."

Julien turned towards the door to open it. Herr Freudenberg, with footsteps like a cat, came up behind him. Suddenly he threw his long, sinewy arm around the other's neck. Taken utterly unprepared, Julien was powerless. Herr Freudenberg swung him round upon his back and knelt upon his chest.

"This," he said calmly, "distresses me extremely. Yet what am I to do?"

He whistled softly. The door was opened. Estermen came in with suspicious alacrity. There was scarcely any need of words. In a moment Julien's legs and arms were bound and a gag thrust between his teeth. Herr Freudenberg moved before the door and listened.

"Estermen has reported to me," he remarked, "that you keep no manservant. Any intrusion here, therefore, is scarcely to be feared. You will permit me?"

He took one of the tumblers from the tray, rinsed it out with soda-water, and poured the contents of a small phial into it. Then he came and stood over Julien.

"My obstinate Englishman," he proceeded, "this tumbler contains the waters of forgetfulness. Let me assure you upon my honor that the liquid is harmless. Its one effect is to reduce those who take it to such a state that for the space of a week or two their mental faculties are impaired. You will drink this in a few minutes. You will awake feeling weak, languid, indisposed for exercise, incapable of mental effort. The doctor will prescribe a tonic, you will go away, but it will be months before you are able to set yourself to any task requiring the full use of your faculties. At the end of that time, I trust that you will have found wisdom. Will you swallow the draught?"

Julien shook his head violently. Herr Freudenberg sighed.

"I was hoping," he continued, "that you would not force me to mention the alternative. I should dislike exceedingly having to inflict any more lasting injury upon you, but you stand in my path and I permit no one to do that. Drink, and in a month or two all will be as it is now. Refuse, and I shall leave Estermen to deal with you, and let me warn you that his methods are not so gentle as mine. More men than one who have been foolish have disappeared in Paris."

"If you move a step this way," a calm voice said from the other end of the room, "I shall shoot."

Herr Freudenberg turned his head. Estermen, whose nerves were less under control, gave a little cry. Lady Anne was standing upon the threshold of the doorway between the two rooms, and in her very steady hand was grasped a small revolver. The two men were speechless.

"It has taken me some time to find this," Lady Anne went on, "and longer still to find the cartridges. I do not understand in the least what has happened, but I am perfectly serious when I tell you that I shall shoot either of you two if you move a step towards me."

Herr Freudenberg looked into the revolver, looked at Lady Anne and made her a little bow.

"Mademoiselle," he said, "who you may be I do not, alas! know. Sir Julien, however, is indeed to be congratulated that he possesses already so charming and courageous a friend with the entree to his bedroom."

Lady Anne lifted the revolver a few inches and fired. The bullet struck the wall barely a foot over Herr Freudenberg's head. A faint puff of blue smoke floated up towards the ceiling.

"I do not like impertinence," she remarked. "If you have any more such speeches to make--"

"Mademoiselle, I have none," Herr Freudenberg interrupted, bowing. "Allow me, on the contrary, to offer you my apologies and to express my admiration for your bearing. I must, alas! acknowledge myself, for the moment, vanquished. I shall leave you to release our dear friend, Sir Julien. But, if you are wise, mademoiselle, if you are really his friend, you will advise him to obey the injunction which I have sought to lay upon him to-day. A little affair like this which goes wrong, is nothing. I have a dozen means of enforcing my words, not one of which has ever failed."

"I do not know who you are," Lady Anne said calmly, "or what it is against which you are warning Sir Julien, but I am perfectly certain of one thing. He will do what is right and what he conceives to be his duty, without fear of threats from you or any one."

Herr Freudenberg bowed low. Estermen, who had been glancing more than once uneasily towards the revolver, was already at the door.

"Mademoiselle," Herr Freudenberg declared, "bravery is a splendid gift, discretion a finer. Sir Julien knows who I am and he knows that I have yet to admit myself vanquished in any scheme in which I engage. He will use his judgment. Meanwhile, mademoiselle!"

He bowed low, turned and left the room. Lady Anne listened to his retreating footsteps. Then she crossed the room quickly and bent over Julien.

"Are you hurt?" she asked breathlessly.

He shook his head. She fumbled for a few minutes with the gag and removed it.

"Not a bit," he assured her. "Don't put the revolver down yet, but fetch me a knife. You'll find one on the mantelpiece in the bedroom."

She did as he told her. In a few minutes he was free. He stood up, gasping.

"The fellow came up behind me," he explained, "while I was walking to the door. Anne, what a brick you are!"

He held out his hand. She took it, laughing frankly.

"My dear Julien," she exclaimed, "what else could any one do? I heard the row and,--shall I admit it?--peeped through the keyhole. I couldn't see anything, so I opened the door softly and heard something of what was going on. This old revolver was lying on your dressing-table, but I had an awful hunt for the cartridges. Whoever were those men?"

Julien smiled.

"When I tell you," he said, "you will think that I am mad. Yet this is the truth. The man with whom you talked was Prince von Falkenberg."

"What, the German Minister?"

Julien nodded.

"It seems incredible, doesn't it? Falkenberg is a man possessed of one idea--to upset the relations between France and England. For that purpose he has been paying secret visits to Paris for the last year. He has corrupted the Press here. He has wormed his way into the confidence of one or two of the Ministers. The thing is a perfect mania with him. He has taken it into his head that the articles which Kendricks has made me promise to write, and the first one of which appeared in _Le Grand Journal_ yesterday--the one you read at dinner-time--are going to be exploited as an exposure of his methods. For that reason he came ostensibly to confirm an offer which he made me some time ago. When I refused, he offered me a large sum of money--anything to get rid of me and to stop my writing these articles. Of course I declined, and there you are."

Lady Anne began to laugh once more.

"Well," she said, "I suppose I'm not dreaming. It sounds like a page out of an opera-bouffe. That man who was here, whom I threatened to shoot, was really Prince Falkenberg?"

"There's no doubt whatever about it," Julien assured her. "The very first night I was in Paris he sent for me. Anne," he went on, turning once more towards her, "I haven't thanked you half enough. What a nerve you have! You were splendid!"

"Don't talk rubbish, Julien," she protested. "The stroke of luck was that I happened to be there. It must have been quite a surprise for him to see an apparently respectable young woman step out of your bedroom. I am inclined to fear, Julien, that I am compromised. Anyhow, mother would say so!"

"Between ourselves," Julien remarked, "I don't think that Falkenberg will mention the occurrence. Just wait while I put on another collar and we'll go to that music-hall."

She glanced at the clock.

"I think you shall take me home instead."

He looked at her quickly.

"This affair has upset you!"

"My dear Julien," she said dryly, "what an absurd idea! Of course I am quite used to these little affairs, to seeing you lie bound and gagged, and pointing a revolver at that unpleasant-looking Prince, with a horrible fear inside me all the time that if I did aim at anything I shouldn't hit it! Nevertheless, I think I'll go home, if you don't mind."

They descended the stairs and he called a little _voiture_.

"I suppose it would sound silly," he ventured, after a time, "if I said anything more about thanking you?"

"Ridiculous!" she replied. "But what are you going to do? Are you going to the police?"

He shook his head.

"I think that Herr Freudenberg, as he calls himself, would be too clever for me if I tried anything of that sort. You see, I have put this revolver into my pocket. I am going to avoid the lonely places, and have Kendricks with me as much as possible."

She nodded.

"Take care of yourself," she advised, in a matter-of-fact tone, as they turned into the street where Mademoiselle Rignaut lived. "I don't want to hear of any tragedies."

"When shall I see you again?" Julien asked.

"It depends upon what reply I get from Madame Christophor," she answered. "She may want me at once, and I don't know yet whether I'll get an evening out or not! I shall have to leave you to discover that. Good night!"

She vanished within the dark doorway. Julien stepped back into the carriage more than a little puzzled. To him Anne had always seemed the prototype of all that was serene and matter-of-fact. To-night he had found her unrecognizable. There was something, too, in her face as she had turned away, a slight tremble in her voice, that bewildered him. As he drove back to his rooms through the lighted streets, it was strange that, notwithstanding the exciting adventure through which he had passed, his thoughts were chiefly concerned with the problem of this unfamiliar Lady Anne! _

Read next: Book 2: Chapter 7. Lady Anne Declines

Read previous: Book 2: Chapter 5. The First Article

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