The Man Without a Memory Part 34

She had fixed the following day for me to see her; but that wasn't a good enough reason for my not seeing her at once. My natural eagerness to have the thing settled without delay would readily account for my disregarding her wish, and whether it did or not didn't matter two straws. So I set off on the errand at once.

Persuasion was the first card to play, and if that failed, a threat of the police; but by one means or another I must have the confession to take to von Gratzen that afternoon. Everything now turned on getting it into his hands early enough for Nessa and me to catch the Dutch mail which left about eight that night.

She had her hat on when I arrived, and resented the visit. "I said you were not to come until to-morrow," she said. "I can't see you now, as I'm just going out."

"I could not wait till to-morrow. I can't bear suspense."

"I've nothing to say to you, so it's no use your coming in."

"But I'm in already, Anna, and I must speak to you." She tried to avoid me and leave the place, but I shut the door and stood with my back to it.

"Very well. Go into the sitting-room and I'll listen."

"I'll follow you," I replied drily; and with a laugh and a shrug she led the way to her room.

"You seem almost as eager to marry me now as you were before to get out of it," she scoffed.

It was an unpromising start, for she was in a very different mood from that of the previous day. "If you think a moment of all that this must mean to me, of my desperate anxiety to know the truth about the past and to see what lies ahead, you'll understand it all, Anna;" and I went on for a few moments in that style endeavouring to re-establish the former relations and work on her emotions.

"I haven't had enough time to think about it," she replied. "Of course it takes a lot of thinking about."

"Does that mean you are not sure I am the man who wronged you?"

"Why should it, pray?"

"Well, you said that you had been mistaken about the child."

"I may have said that for a purpose. You got the soft side of me yesterday, and---- But I tell you I haven't made up my mind."

"You haven't altered your opinion about my being an honourable man and wis.h.i.+ng to do the right thing, I hope?" and I did my best to draw a vivid picture of my state of mind and appeal to her good nature.

This appeared to have a softening effect; but not enough for the purpose. "Why does one day make such a difference?"

"Every minute makes a difference, Anna. I am on the rack and it's positive torture to prolong this suspense."

"I'm sorry. I am really; but I can't make up my mind. If you could do without me all these years, another day can't matter so much. Not that I can see."

"If you had lost your memory, you'd understand."

"But that was only a week or two ago. What of all the other time, the years and years you've left me to fend for myself?"

"I can't account for that," I said, as if distracted.

"You hadn't lost your memory all that time, however."

"The shock of the explosion has utterly changed me in every way."

"It was about time, I should think, judging by all I've heard and the way you treated me. I don't deny you're a white man enough now; but what if you got your memory back? It might change you into something very different. I have to think of that, you know. You might be mad enough to--to do anything; perhaps even murder me. You're not surprised it makes me think, are you? I don't wish to be made into an honest woman only to be murdered."

This was altogether so different from her previous att.i.tude, that it was clear some one had been coaching her; and of course it could only be von Erstein. "You need not fear that, Anna."

"Why not? How do you know what you'd be mad enough to do if you got your memory back and found you'd tied yourself to me?"

"There's a very simple way out of that. Even if you wish me to marry you, we need not live together. I should give you an allowance and you could go your way and I mine, if you preferred it."

For some reason which beat me this seemed to appeal strongly to her.

She sat thinking, and there was something of her previous day's emotion in her look as she asked: "Do you mean that?"

"You little know me if you doubt it, Anna."

She got up impulsively to stare out of the window as she had done before, and after a long pause she turned. "Look here, come to-morrow."

I looked intently at her and read something in her face that gave me fresh hope. "Why not to-day? You have made up your mind, I can see that; so why not tell me now?"

She shook her head. "Not to-day. To-morrow."

"Why?"

"I can't tell you why. Don't ask me."

"But I do ask you. I beg you as earnestly as I can."

Another shake of the head; and she would not budge, so that it became necessary to try a turn of the screw.

"Your reason has to do with some one else?"

"What do you mean?" she flashed in surprise and some alarm.

"I had a visit yesterday from a man who called himself Rudolff."

"Well? What's that got to do with it?"

"With two companions he tried to murder me."

She caught her breath. "Is that true?"

"As you see, the attempt failed and the man himself got the blow intended for me. I took him to my rooms afterwards and--well, here's his confession."

Her interest was keen enough to quicken her breathing as I took out the paper; and her fright deepened as I read it, and she began to tremble violently. "As you hear, he was the man who pointed me out to you yesterday in the Thiergarten."

For a few moments she was too overcome to speak. "What--do you--think it all means?" she stammered brokenly.

"Do you know Count von Erstein?"

Her hand went to her throat as she tried to reply, making a swallowing, half-choking motion. "You don't believe--that I had anything--to do with all that?"

"Oh no, Anna. I am sure you had not. I have told the authorities----"