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diff --git a/75967-0.txt b/75967-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..a820b1b --- /dev/null +++ b/75967-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,9328 @@ + +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75967 *** + + + + + +DR. MABUSE + + + + + DR. MABUSE + + MASTER OF MYSTERY + + _A NOVEL_ + + BY + NORBERT JACQUES + + AUTHORIZED TRANSLATION + BY + LILIAN A. CLARE + + [Illustration] + + LONDON: GEORGE ALLEN & UNWIN LTD. + RUSKIN HOUSE, 40 MUSEUM STREET, W.C. 1. + + + + + _First published in 1923_ + + (_All rights reserved_) + + _Printed in Great Britain by_ + UNWIN BROTHERS, LIMITED, THE GRESHAM PRESS, LONDON AND WOKING + + + + +TRANSLATOR’S NOTE + + +Since there is no actual equivalent of the position of “Staatsanwalt” +it is almost impossible to find an English rendering that conveys +its full meaning. In part the duties assimilate those of the Public +Prosecutor, but in England we can hardly conceive of an official of +high judicial status personally identifying himself with his cases to +the extent of disguising himself and playing the part of a detective. +Wenk’s position appears to combine some of the offices which would here +be delegated to various individuals acting more or less independently +as subordinates to a higher and single authority. He was a barrister +and an LL.D., and a person of some influence, however, as his threat +to the governor of the women’s prison, and his treatment of the night +editor prove. + +In accordance with modern German usage I have adhered to the original +in dropping the “von,” when intimates of the same social class are +speaking to or of each other, maintaining it in the more formal +intercourse and the reports tendered by social inferiors. + +Readers should note that in the currency now prevailing, the amounts +staked by Hull and his friends would be tens of thousands, and his +total losses would run into many millions. + + + + +DR. MABUSE + + + + +I + + +The distinguished-looking elderly gentleman introduced himself and, +as usual, nobody caught the name. He wore a suit of fashionable and +well-cut clothes, however, and his scarf-pin was a single white +pearl in a somewhat quaint setting, its dazzling purity recalling +the whiteness of a lovely blonde’s shoulders, as Karstens remarked. +Moreover, he at once placed a sum of twenty thousand marks upon the +table in front of him. + +He had been brought to the club by young Hull, the heir to an +industrial concern worth millions, into which his father allowed him to +dip freely. Play was started immediately, and the stranger courteously +agreed to the game proposed, which was vingt-et-un. The stakes were +unlimited, and the first one to hold the bank was Ritter. + +At first there was nothing unusual about the game. Gains and losses +alternated, but soon it was noticed that Hull was losing, and this +began just at the time when it was the elderly gentleman’s turn to play +banker. At the start it was hundred-mark notes that Hull lost, but he +played on calmly, resigned to his ill-luck. Notes of smaller value +were now mingled with the piles of thousands the visitor had put in +front of him. + +It was only outwardly, however, that Hull appeared undisturbed. He felt +a good deal of excitement within, and a veil seemed to be obscuring his +mental vision. His bank-notes fluttered across to the stranger without +his appearing aware of the fact. His senses seemed to be imprisoned in +a delicate, invisible web, pressing ever more and more closely upon him. + +He drank a brandy and soda, and then ordered a bottle of champagne. The +only effect of that was to make him open another compartment of his +pocket-book and bring out the thousand-mark notes which he had procured +from the bank that morning. His bad luck became really fantastic. Even +when he held good cards it seemed as if in some obscure region of his +mind a mysterious warning sealed his lips, and instead of staking a +substantial sum, he wagered a trifling amount merely. + +It was now the visitor’s turn to pass on the office of banker, but he +volunteered to continue to hold it on account of Hull. He said: “If you +gentlemen do not object, I will remain banker for a few more rounds. +You see how the money seems to cling to me. I am the guest of your +hospitable club, so please consider how difficult my position is with +regard to Herr von Hull, and grant my request.” His speech was polite, +and carefully enunciated, yet there was a masterful ring about the +words, as if the speaker would brook no refusal. + +The club attendant eyed the guest suspiciously, but he was using the +cards provided by the club and fresh packs were opened every time. The +play grew more animated. A good deal had been drunk, and several round +the table were slightly intoxicated. The guest did not refrain from +drinking, and his behaviour was in no way peculiar. He had a steady +and lingering glance for everyone who looked at him, and his large +grey eyes seemed to have something dominating about them, hardly in +accordance with a mere game. His hands were large and fleshy, and as +steady as if carved out of wood, while the fingers of the other men, +far younger than he, were already quivering with excitement. + +Hull continued playing, though his pocket-book grew lighter and +lighter. “What is the matter with me?” he continually asked himself. He +wanted to rise from the table and miss a round, so that he could get a +mouthful of fresh air at the window and gain a little calm from looking +into the silent night. But he sat as if glued to his chair, pressing +his elbows down on the crimson cloth, and his thoughts escaped his +control, falling into a void like that of deep slumber. + +And yet he was not really a reckless player. He was accustomed to +reflect and to follow the run of luck, making use of chances that were +favourable to him, and reducing his stakes when he saw that the odds +were against him. + +This evening, however, he seemed to know no bounds. No amount seemed +of any value in his eyes, and it appeared as if he were almost glad +to lose, and saw his notes change hands with a kind of satisfaction. +Something would be sure to happen ere long. The players seemed far too +slow in dealing, he thought; they took an endless time in declaring +their stakes, and the notes crawled round the table at a snail’s pace. + +He drank freely, moreover, and the fancies which he could no longer +control were like fiery steeds escaping the driver’s restraining hand +and running away into a trackless wilderness. The very air seemed to +have been exhausted, and nothing existed for him but the game. + +Folks began to discuss his bad luck. He certainly drew unlucky cards, +but he was playing his hand badly, and taking unreasonable risks. His +friends wanted to restrict the stakes and talk of the final round. +At first Hull did not take in what they were saying, and they had to +explain their words; then he drew himself up and became furiously +angry, shouting in his wrath and beating his fist on the table. + +Then the stranger’s big eyes seemed to withdraw a little from him +and the rest; their glance appeared to be directed inward and some +of their lustre vanished. He laid down his cards and put his money +into his pocket, doing it carelessly, however, as if it were merely +a handkerchief. There was one more round to finish. Hull called out, +“I’ll play the bank,” and the stranger dealt him the cards. He glanced +at them quickly. His total was twenty-one.... Then something happened, +something strange and inexplicable. He threw his cards face downwards +upon the heap, saying, “I have lost again.” + +The guest immediately showed _his_ cards. His eyes regained their +glitter, he counted his points, named the total, and threw his cards +down on the table. + +It seemed to Hull as if he were falling from an unsteady foothold +down into an abyss below. “What have I been doing?” he asked himself +in stupefaction and despair. Now at last he began to see everything +as clearly as if he had just come into the room: the three glowing +electric globes under their protecting dome, the red-covered, lighted +table, his friends, the elderly stranger, the scattered cards and the +piles of notes. + +“Where have I been? What have I been doing?” he stammered. + +His brain grew alert again, and the thoughts that had been so confused +and obscure now became suddenly clear: it was as if he had drawn +aside the curtains and let in the light of day. Then he felt a sudden +distrust of himself, which made him uneasy. He held his head in his +hands awhile, striving to free it from the weight that seemed to +encircle it, and then raising himself erect, he said, “What have I been +doing? I held twenty-one in my hand, and then someone called out, in my +voice, ‘I have lost again.’ Look there!” He snatched the cards he had +thrown away from the heap where they lay, and turned them over. They +were an ace, a ten, and a knave--twenty-one! + +The elderly stranger’s large grey eyes contracted until the pupils were +quite small and seemed to be gazing at a far-distant spot. A shudder +went through his body; it was perceptible, though hastily subdued. Then +his breast expanded and his breath came slowly and with difficulty, as +if he were having to pump the air direct into himself. + +“Too late!” said he, briefly and decisively. + +Hull made a slight gesture. + +“My remark had nothing to do with you,” he said quietly; “it concerned +myself only. How much do I owe you?” he asked in a friendly tone. + +“Thirty thousand marks!” + +Hull emptied his pocket-book. + +“You must content yourself till to-morrow afternoon with ten thousand +and, of course, an I O U for the rest. Will you be so good as to write +the amount and your address in this notebook?” + +When Hull got his little notebook back, he read in it: + + BALLING, + ROOM 15, EXCELSIOR HOTEL. + +He passed over his I O U, smiling pleasantly as he did so. + +“I am ready to give you your revenge, Herr von Hull,” said Balling, +as he rose. “Gentlemen, may I offer you my thanks for the evening’s +hospitality? Good-night!” + +He said this almost abruptly, but in so decisive a tone that it brought +the others to their feet. Karstens offered him his car. + +“No, thank you; my own is waiting for me.” + +He walked away somewhat stiffly, as though tired out, and vouchsafed no +further farewell of any sort. The club attendant conducted him to the +outer door. + +“Hull, you are off your head,” said Karstens, when the stranger had +left the room. + +“What did really happen?” asked Hull quietly. + +“Ask your purse!” + +“My pocket-book is empty. Who won all my money?” + +“Your friend there,” said Karstens, pointing to the door. + +“My friend! I never set eyes on him before! How did he get here?” + +“Hull, you certainly are needing the services of a good physician. +Emil, bring the telephone directory.” Karstens turned over the +leaves. “Here we are: Dr. Schramm, Psychopathological treatment, 35, +Ludwigstrasse....” + +“I don’t understand your joke, my dear Karstens.” + +“Well, who brought this fine vingt-et-un player here but you?” + +“That is not true, Karstens.” + +“Go to No. 35, Ludwigstrasse, my dear fellow, and quickly too.” + +“Of course it was you who brought him, Hull,” said another. + +“_I?_ _I_ brought him? At any rate, I don’t remember a thing about it, +but it may be so.” + +Hull then withdrew, exhausted and stupefied, brooding over the problem +which had so strangely and suddenly opened up before him that evening. + +When he awoke, towards morning, he had a dim and fleeting remembrance, +and he seemed to recall the stranger sitting at the same table with +him in the Café Bastin. He had an idea that they had been talking +together, and that it was about the theatre, but what they had said, +and which theatre it was about, he had not the slightest idea. In +the dim recesses of his mind he recalled merely the sensation of a +dazzling reflector that seemed to throw its beams upon him during the +conversation. Sleep was no longer possible, but, try as he would to +pierce these elusive fragments of memory and penetrate to the reality +behind them, he was quite unable to make anything out of them. + + * * * * * + +The next afternoon brought him no enlightenment either. By four o’clock +he had obtained the twenty thousand marks, and he made his way to the +Excelsior Hotel. At his request a telephone message was sent to Room +15. Herr Balling was there, he was told, and requested the gentleman to +send up his card. This Hull did, following close upon it. + +In the middle of Room 15 he found a man whom he had never seen in his +life before. He was a short, stout, clean-shaven man, apparently an +American. He made a very stiff bow. + +“I beg your pardon,” said Hull. “I must have been directed wrongly. I +wanted Room 15.” + +“This is it,” said the other. + +“Then Herr Balling must have given me the wrong number.” + +“My name is Balling.” + +“This time I am _not_ dreaming, I am in full possession of my senses,” +said Hull to himself, and then aloud, he continued: “But the mystery +can soon be explained. Did you write this?” and he extended the +notebook in which the stranger of the previous night had written his +name and address. + +“Certainly not,” replied the stout man. + +“Then I am not in your debt to the tune of twenty thousand marks?” + +“My time is very limited, and I am expecting a friend on business,” +said the other, looking at his watch. + +“I will make way for your friend, sir, at once, and will only put one +more question to you. It is not my fault that I am bothering you; I +have been misled in some way.” + +The other nodded. + +“Possibly you are acquainted,” Hull went on, “with a gentleman of about +sixty, with large grey eyes, a big nose and white whiskers. He wears +good and well-cut clothes and a tall grey hat, and his name is also +Balling.” + +“I can only repeat that I know nothing about him,” said the Balling of +No. 15. + +Hull thereupon took his leave. Downstairs he asked whether there were +a second Herr Balling in the hotel, but the answer was “No.” Had Room +15 been occupied by any Herr Balling who had just left? “No.” Was the +writing in the pocket-book known? Again there was a negative reply. +“For the first time in my life,” thought Hull, “I find myself unable to +pay a debt of honour.” + +Gradually he became uneasy. What a mysterious affair this was! Nothing +of the kind had ever occurred before. He had won money and lost it +again ... sometimes much, and at other times little. He had been in +financial straits. He had had some trouble about a girl he cared for. +Once, indeed, he had been seriously wounded in a duel. Yet all that was +comprehensible and straightforward, so to speak. But this tale of Herr +Balling and the twenty thousand marks had some mystery or other behind +it. He had forgotten that it was he who introduced the stranger to the +club. He had played as if he had lost his head. He had incurred a debt +of twenty thousand marks, and his creditor had furnished a name and +address which did actually exist but were not his, and, moreover, he +would not have the money.... + +If it had not happened that Hull had no mistress at the moment, he +could have talked this affair over. He pondered over it alone while he +walked along Lenbach Square and the Promenade, looking everybody in the +face in the hope that he might encounter the distinguished stranger +among them. He went to the Café Bastin and scanned all the faces there. +He sat down at a table and waited to see whether the _genius loci_ +would be favourable to him and recall the vanished recollections; +but nothing came of it, and he stood up again, a prey to increasing +uneasiness. It seemed as if in the invisible depths behind him another +power, extraneous to himself, was pursuing him, pressing down upon him, +trying to jump on his back as a monkey might do, and lead him into +unlucky adventures of some kind or another. + +Hull forced himself to return to his lonely bachelor chambers. There he +met Karstens, and greeted him with relief. But Karstens at once asked: + +“Well, has your memory returned?” + +“My dear fellow, there’s something wrong with me!” + +“With the twenty thousand marks?” + +“No, there they are!” and he tapped his breast-pocket. “Nobody +wants them, it appears. There is a Herr Balling in Room 15 at the +‘Excelsior,’ but he isn’t my man, and we’ve never met before. He has +never played vingt-et-un, and nobody owes _him_ twenty thousand marks. +I can’t get rid of the money, and it makes me feel creepy! Something +is going to happen to me. Who _is_ there near me whom I cannot see? +There’s certainly something wrong with me!” + +“Come to the club! Perhaps your Herr Balling will go there to fetch the +money himself.” + +“Yes, but what about the real Balling in No. 15?” + +“Well, that’s certainly odd, I grant you. Come along.” + +“All right. Perhaps he’ll be there.” + +In the club that night there was no play. The curious circumstance +had so worked upon the members’ imagination that no one felt the need +of trying his luck. Hull was overwhelmed with well-meaning or obtuse +advice. + +“Emil,” said one of them to the attendant, “what did his car look like?” + +“An excellent one, Herr Baron, a twenty-horsepower at the least--a +closed car with a body like a royal cradle, if one may use such a +comparison nowadays ... so smooth and well rounded and polished. It +started off with a great bound, and soon vanished. It was a first-class +car. I kept a close eye on the gentleman, and I saw that he had the +devil’s own luck when he played against Herr von Hull. He played quite +straight, however.” + +They learnt nothing more about the stranger. Nobody came either to the +club or to Hull’s rooms to ask for the twenty thousand marks or to +offer him his revenge. + +A few days afterwards Hull made acquaintance with a girl who was +performing jazz dances in the Bonbonnière. She was partly Mexican, she +told him. She soon effected a diversion in his thoughts, and in her +company he rapidly got rid of the twenty thousand marks which he could +not pay over to the stranger. + +“It seems as if you were meant to give the money to a woman instead of +to a man,” remarked Karstens, when he told him that he was now free of +his worries once more. + + + + +II + + +About a fortnight later the circles to whom the life of the day is +only a wearisome burden till the hour of play arrives, when the +nerve-tension is once more excited, were all agog with the stories of +a stranger who simply loaded himself with money wherever he chanced to +play. The tales varied constantly. At one time the stranger was a young +sportsman, at another a worthy provincial; now he was a fair-bearded +man looking like an artist, and again a robber and murderer who had +escaped from justice. Some said he was a dethroned prince, others that +he was a Frenchman. Another time they declared him to be a citizen of +Leipzig, who was smuggling pit-coal from the Saar into Bavaria by way +of Switzerland, or profiteering on the money exchange with New York and +Rio de Janeiro. There was endless variety in the descriptions, but the +imagination put the various forms together and made one personality out +of them. + +Circles that were exclusive had ceased to exist. Money was a key that +opened all doors, the wearing of a fur coat could conceal any calling, +and a diamond scarf-pin shed lustre on any character. A man could go +into whatsoever company he desired. + +There was no longer any sense of security, and the mysterious gambler +might turn up in any place, at any time. He might be anybody’s +neighbour. The authorities were constantly notified of swindling +players, and though in no case could their swindles be proved, their +luck was so continuous that it did not seem possible for it to be due +to ordinary play. + +Through the Bonbonnière lady Hull frequently spent his evenings in +places where gambling was indulged in. He heard much about this +swindler at play, and from many different quarters, for theatrical +folk are always particularly interested in anything out of the common, +especially where masquerading is concerned. But Hull’s brain was of a +matter-of-fact and ordinary kind. He did, indeed, still think about +the twenty thousand marks, but mostly with the comfortable reflection +that they had been used in a very different way from that for which +they were destined. Now that the story of his forgetfulness had ceased +to haunt him he had become quite convinced that his friends had played +an elaborate trick upon him, that his I O U and the twenty thousand +marks had been discharged, and the only disreputable part in the affair +had been played by Balling, who, on account of Emil’s watch upon him, +had not felt himself secure. His astonishment was all the greater, +therefore, when a certain Herr von Wenk was announced and the story of +that night’s escapade was brought up once more. + +Hull refused to discuss the matter, but the visitor told him he was +a State Attorney and showed his credentials. In the most polite way +possible he continued to question him, saying that his official status +obliged him to pursue the inquiry. Had Hull been able to communicate +with Cara Carozza, his _chère amie_ from the Bonbonnière, instead of +having to face this man by himself, he would have known what to say and +how much to conceal. He was greatly enamoured of Cara Carozza, and by +no means inclined to go into this matter and rake up bygones for the +sake of the country’s morals. + +“You will pardon my introducing a personal note, but I understand that +you are very intimate with Mdlle. Cara Carozza, of the Bonbonnière?” + +“Good Lord! He knows that, does he?” ejaculated Hull to himself. + +“Can you make me acquainted with this lady? It would further the task +which the State has laid upon me, but I would ask you to introduce +me to her as a private individual. It is unnecessary to assure you +that I take you for a man of irreproachable character and quite above +suspicion. Nothing is known to the detriment of the lady, either. +You will be able to render a service to the country and perhaps to +yourself as well. Henceforward you are under the direct protection +of the police. Do not be uneasy; it is possibly quite an unnecessary +precaution. You can rest assured that you will not suffer in any way +through the services you may be able to render to the general public +and the State.” + +“What am I to gather from all this, sir?” said Hull hesitatingly. + +“You must have come to some conclusion about your extraordinarily lucky +opponent?” + +“To be quite candid, I did feel uneasy for a time, Herr von Wenk. +There seemed to be something very mysterious about the affair. Finally, +I imagined that my forgetting that I had brought the stranger to the +club was a feeble joke on the part of my friends.” + +“But the Herr Balling in the hotel, who was quite different from the +Balling at the club?” + +“That certainly is a mystery to me still, but a false address is often +given for the purpose of evading payment. In this case, however, it +occurred in order to avoid receiving twenty thousand marks.” + +“May it not be explained,” continued the State Attorney, “by the fact +that this elderly gentleman had been cheating in some way? He was set +on his guard by some fact unknown to you, and contented himself with +the money he had already won. He gave a name which occurred to him, and +of which he had some knowledge. Unless, of course, the Balling in the +‘Excelsior’ was the Balling from your club, disguised. But you say that +the one was short and stout and the other of rather imposing presence. +Do you still play, Herr von Hull?” + +“A little, now and again.” + +“With Mdlle. Carozza, perhaps? I am on friendly terms with one of your +intimates, with Karstens. He will introduce me to you, and we shall be +able to renew our acquaintance socially. You must not be prejudiced by +the fact that it has had an official beginning. I hope to be able to +count you on my side.” + +The barrister took his leave, and returned to his official chambers. + +A month previous to this occurrence, in a lawsuit in which he was +professionally engaged, Wenk had first noted the extent to which +the gambling fever possessed the city. He himself liked the nervous +excitement and the appeal to the imagination afforded by the relations +between judge, counsel and accused in the course of his calling. +In earlier years he had been a regular card-player. He was not a +passionate lover of games of chance, but he enjoyed the opportunity of +testing the effect of play upon his own self-control, of observing his +fellows and noting the enticement afforded by the devious course of +luck. + +During the lawsuit above mentioned he realized what a danger to the +people lay in gambling. The change from war conditions to a state of +affairs which afforded the nation little relief from tension had not +sobered its imagination, but rather excited it yet more strongly. +Perhaps, in the first instance, the war news was largely responsible +for extravagant phantasies. For a week, sometimes a month, at a time +the reports were like a lottery for the whole nation. Then a fateful +movement was set on foot by which whole districts of people were seized +with a passion for gambling, a movement designed by the military +authorities to induce them to replete the army coffers. Increased wages +were offered to the war workers and money was flung into manufacturing +concerns. Commerce of all kinds was affected ere long, and everywhere +the flood-gates were opened. When goods grew more and more scarce, +money overflowed all its channels. Wenk saw clearly that the folks +in high places who had believed they could purchase the soul of a +nation for money were to blame for the tragic outcome of the war as +far as Germany was concerned, and so, too, were they responsible for +the political development. Instead of the ideal of an immortal soul +prepared for any and every renunciation as long as it fulfilled its +duty to the community, they had set up an idol--money--and the whole +nation was worshipping it. + +Then the war came to an end. Money decreased in value and the idea +of it played a yet more dominant part in the life of a nation now +deprived of its success and brilliance in the world outside. Hundreds +of thousands had become accustomed to a life of inaction, and for many +years now it had been nothing but pure chance whether they lived or +died. Their only preoccupation had been to exercise authority over +others and to live entirely on their nerves. They brought with them +to the more stable conditions of life the gambling spirit born of +their war experience. They had grown accustomed to taking risks, and +they continued to rely on luck. They resumed their former mode of +life, but brought to it the atmosphere of their recent experiences, +transferring the nerve-racking and hazardous existence of those days to +the conditions which now obtained. To some extent this was inevitable, +but those who looked beyond the present and wanted to see a new era +of prosperity dawn must strain every nerve and exercise the strictest +self-denial. Thus only could there be hope of recovery. + +The great lawsuit had afforded Wenk one example after another of the +development of this spirit of gambling, and in its course had taken +him frequently into the company of those who lived but for, and by, +games of chance. His convictions were well grounded and his recognition +of the national danger constantly confirmed to an alarming extent. In +the attics and basements folks were gambling for five-mark pieces, +and on the first floors for five-thousand. They laid their wagers +in the streets and the lanes, at home and abroad. They gambled with +cards, with goods, with ideas and with enjoyments, with power and with +weakness, with themselves and with their nearest and dearest. + +At this period, too, people who were not naturally given to hazardous +risks, who were habitually calm and self-reliant, were wont to be +guided by chance conditions and circumstances, instead of combating +them where necessary. + +Wenk was an official who had reached his thirty-eighth year in a +peaceful and well-ordered career. During the war he had volunteered +for the Flying Corps, because he had a love of sport and remembered +the fascination which the element of danger had held for him in early +youth. The experience had fired his imagination, and he returned to +his career with more impetuous feelings than had been his when he +quitted it. The lawsuit against the gamblers, and all he had learned +in the course of it, had excited him considerably. He had gone at once +to the head of the Police Department, had described what he had seen +and experienced, and represented to him that this new disease must be +combated if the whole body were not to be destroyed. As money lost +its value and the necessities of life increased, the nation could do +nothing but seek to augment its mass of paper currency by trying first +one speculation and then another. The connection between supply and +demand required both time and work before it could become normal again, +and so by degrees it had come about that the pulsations of commercial +life were regulated merely by chance. + +The Minister smiled; he was new to his office. He said, “The nation is +sound enough; you are a pessimist!” + +But Wenk replied, “It is diseased and rotten! How can it be healthy, +after such years and such a life?” + +Then the Minister, who felt his position somewhat insecure and was +willing to try anything that might lead to stability, yielded the +point, and created a new post, which Wenk at once took over. + +The erstwhile State Attorney and official was at once caught up in +the vortex of his new office. He devoted all his time and energies +to it. He did not establish himself in an arm-chair in a comfortable +well-furnished room, but began to build up his position from the very +bottom, became a police-spy and a detective, unwearied in his efforts +to collect all the evidence he could lay his hands on. He did it all +himself, and when he realized, as he soon did, the slight extent of +his own powers when pitted against the widespread national vice, he +conceived the idea of recruiting a guard and rallying force from the +ranks of the victims. + +Accordingly, he began with men whose wealth was not displayed in their +houses, but who, through their connection with the social order which +had come to grief, had been forced into the opposition, both as human +beings and as politicians. He knew that none were more responsible for +the existing state of affairs than these men, because, at a time when +resistance was a necessity, they had been cowardly and kept out of the +way. But he knew, too, that in them a new force of decision had come to +birth, that they longed to make good where they had failed. + +Above all, there were the rich young men without any profession. In the +disorganization brought about in the country by the depreciation and +disorder of the currency, they were unable to carry on life as before. +Their society was permeated by the “new rich,” who made use of them +because they allowed themselves to be made use of. + +The State Attorney von Wenk had turned to his whilom comrades, from +whom the divers duties of his office had long separated him, and +the man whom he had first encountered and won over to his side was +Karstens. It was from him that he had learned all the circumstances of +Hull’s strange and suspicious gambling adventure. He compared Hull’s +story with the other material which he had hastily collected. Fresh +complaints were constantly being made about swindlers who worked so +cleverly that no taint of suspicion could attach to them, yet who won +so consistently that it was not conceivable that this could be merely +luck. From some similarities in detail in the various stories Wenk was +inclined to refer all these cases to a band of swindlers operating in +concert, and he even had the idea that it might all be the work of one +man. But this was hardly more than an impression. Hull’s experience +was the strangest and most mysterious of all these cases, and it was +fraught with the greatest danger, but Wenk had a notion that therein +lay the solution to all the rest. + + * * * * * + +After Wenk’s departure, Hull held a long argument with himself. The +uncompromising yet thoroughly courteous way in which Wenk had effected +an entrance had made an impression upon him. He guessed what the +official desired, for he himself was often dissatisfied with his way of +living, although his love of ease usually made him drive such thoughts +away. + +Under ordinary circumstances he would have pursued his usual search for +enjoyment without restraint or reflection, either until considerations +of health had set a limit to his dissipations or until a marriage, +either arranged or entered into voluntarily, had caused him to “range +himself.” + +Hull by no means approved of the course of affairs in Germany which had +led to the Treaty of Versailles. He at once asked himself, “Where were +you in 1918, when the retreat began? and earlier still, when it first +began to be planned? Are not you, Hull, and all your kind, responsible +for it?”... That was what Herr von Wenk’s words had implied. + +But Hull found in himself no trace of such individuality as might have +saved the situation, and he dismissed these ideas from his mind. He +drove to see Cara Carozza and told her of Wenk’s visit. + +“For God’s sake, don’t get us mixed up with your State Attorney, dear +Eddie,” said she. + +“But ... but ... do we cheat? Are we dishonest? Are we profiteers, or +climbers? We merely keep ourselves going. What are you thinking about, +darling?” + +“Eddie, a game of cards in full swing--someone holding the bank--closed +doors, and a State official looking on! That might prove a hanging +matter!” + +“But I promised him I would bring you!” + +“More fool you!” she exclaimed. “You ought to have got out of it +somehow. Elsie is bringing her friend to-day, and we are going to +Schramm’s. Karstens has already telephoned that he will be there.” + +“Then Wenk would be coming anyhow, so _that’s_ all right, as it +happens!” + +The head-waiter of Schramm’s little restaurant, recently opened in one +of the residential streets and decorated throughout in most eccentric +style by a modern professional, led Karstens and Wenk from the +dinner-table to a box at the rear. Thence a winding stair led to a room +which had no other exit and seemed to have no windows of any kind. + +In the middle of the room stood a fairly large table of an oval shape, +but so arranged that every occupant of an arm-chair was sitting in +a hollowed-out niche of his own, with the leaves of the table under +his elbows on both sides. The table was formed of quaint, curiously +veined Kiefersfeld marble. In the middle only was there a perfectly +white oval left. Around the table, behind the players’ chairs, the +floor was raised and the walls furnished with full-length reclining +lounges, upon which rested crushed-strawberry-coloured cushions with +black designs. A large shade of polished glass attached to a brass +electrolier hung low over the table and reflected the electric light +bulbs which gleamed forth from silver brackets. The walls above the +strawberry-coloured cushions were inlaid with the same warm marble as +that on the table. + +Wenk was introduced to Cara Carozza. + +“I could not keep the secret, Herr von Wenk. I was obliged to tell my +lady friend here. Please don’t be vexed with me!” + +Wenk gave a slight bow, in which there was a trace of annoyance. + +Baccarat was being played. Karstens turned to Wenk: “The young man +with the fair beard is the only stranger. All the others play here +regularly.” + +Wenk glanced at the stranger and met his eyes. He noticed that they +were fastened on him, and he immediately looked beyond and above them, +but he felt that the stranger had noticed they were speaking of him. +Whenever he looked at him again he found that his eyes were fixed on +the table. + +The stranger played a quiet, restrained game. He frequently lost. Then +Wenk ceased to pay attention to him and turned to the others, whom +he watched in turns. They all had their eyes fastened on the white +oval, whereon the cards were being dealt. They seldom looked in any +other direction. There were gentlemen in evening dress, ladies in +_décolletée_, expensively and fashionably attired. The passion for +gambling had seized and carried them all away. + +“It is none of these,” said Wenk to himself, “so it can only be that +young man with the sandy beard.” + +He began to study him afresh, but only to find that the latter returned +his gaze. Wenk then turned his attention to Cara Carozza. He saw her +wholly given over to her game, sitting next to Hull, to whose money +she helped herself when she lost. If she won, however, she added the +winnings to her own heap. In the player on her other side Wenk thought +he recognized a well-known tenor from the State Theatre, whose picture +often appeared in shop-windows. + +“Is that Marker?” he asked Karstens, who nodded in reply. + +Wenk won a trifling sum. He played only till he had persuaded himself +that there was no work for him here. Then he gave up his place to an +elderly gentleman who had already been sitting behind him for some +time, boring him by remarks upon his method of play. He seated himself +on one of the lounges and watched the play for a short time longer. +Then he took his departure, Karstens accompanying him. Hull remained +with the Carozza girl. + +When Wenk had descended a few steps he looked back at the table. It +seemed as if the fair-bearded man with large mouse-grey eyes followed +his departure eagerly, and then directed an urgent and threatening look +towards Carozza, but it might have been only an illusion. + +When Wenk reached the foot of the stairs, he unexpectedly found +himself for a moment face to face with a lady who had already laid her +hand on the balustrade to ascend. He looked right into her eyes and +started back in amazement, while he inclined his head, as if doing +homage, before he passed on. He wanted to say to Karstens, “I have +never seen so beautiful a woman!” but that seemed to him like betraying +a secret, and, consumed with desire, he bore her image with him as he +made his way silently through the deserted streets. When at home, he +soon fell asleep, but the two mouse-grey eyes, which were far older +than the carefully arranged sandy beard, seemed to fasten on his breast +as he slept. They appeared to be trying to colour the ace of hearts +with his own life-blood. + +When he awoke next morning he was conscious of nothing but an intense +longing to meet once more the lady he had encountered on the stairs. + + + + +III + + +The next night Wenk was invited to a _soirée musicale_ in the +neighbourhood of Schramm’s restaurant. A young pianist was performing +modern phantasies. Wenk was bored, became fidgety and was the prey to +wandering thoughts. It seemed to him as if he were neglecting some +special opportunity elsewhere. He grew so uneasy that he finally +slipped away, merely leaving a card of apology for his hostess. + +He reached Schramm’s and was about to pass quickly by. Then it occurred +to him to look up at the first floor of the villa where the new +restaurant and gaming-house was established, and try to see the windows +of the little room in which he had played the previous night. The +ground-floor windows were large, and through their old-gold curtains a +faint light gleamed, but the four windows on the first floor showed no +signs of occupation. Yet he said to himself, “Behind those unlighted +windows there gleams light ... _her_ light,” and he went in, full of +hope that he might encounter the mysterious lady who had so bewitched +him. + +The head-waiter approached him at once, took hat and coat, whispering, +“The marble table?” and looking closely at the visitor as he did so. +Wenk gave a nod of assent, and the head-waiter rapidly preceded him to +the back, Wenk following more leisurely. Then he was led up the winding +stair. + +The first person he saw at the gaming-table was the sandy-bearded man. +He sat in his niche, his broad shoulders bent forward, with his eyes +fixed in a steady gaze upon a player opposite. His attitude was that of +a beast of prey who has already played his victim and is only waiting +to pounce upon him. He seemed to be all sinews--at least, that was the +impression he made upon Wenk, who started back at his aspect. + +There was one empty seat. Wenk took it and drew out his pocket-book. +An idea crossed his mind, that something special had occurred at the +table. He saw all the players cowering over the little heaps of money +in front of them, and yet there was in them all a distinct, even if +unintentional, glance given to one among their number. + +The sandy-bearded stranger was holding the bank, and now he looked up. +Wenk noticed how, at first, annoyed at the disturbance, he raised his +eyes towards him, and then it was clearly noticeable that his face +quivered. At the same moment, however, he closed his jaws so firmly +that his beard stood out round them. The rest was a mere impression, +but this Wenk saw clearly. A shudder went through him as if at some +sudden and dangerous encounter. At this moment the “banker” displayed +the cards he held. Someone said, “Basch has lost again!” All turned to +look openly at the pale thin man whom they had been furtively regarding +when Wenk entered. + +With a quiet and drowsy movement Basch pushed the notes lying on the +oval in front of him over to the stranger. He grabbed at them like a +bird of prey. The loser sank back in his seat, and in the same slow and +dreamy way he brought out a fresh thousand-mark note and laid it in +front of him. + +“How much are you losing now?” said a lady from the divan behind Basch. +“You will have a lucky life. When one loses to _that_ extent! I regard +you as a champion. You must establish a record.... In losing, you know! +Then you will be so lucky in life that I shall want to....” She broke +off in embarrassment. Then Wenk, with a delicious tremor in his veins, +recognized the speaker as the lady whom he had so abruptly encountered +on the stairs on the previous evening. + +“Get ready to stake,” said the sandy-bearded man in a harsh voice, +drowning the speaker’s concluding words. + +Basch had not answered her. As the banker called out, he merely made a +movement of his hand over his thousand-mark note, a movement as if he +were secretly conjuring it to do his bidding. + +He looked at his cards; it was his turn, and no one else was punting. + +“Do you take one?” said the banker sharply. + +Basch shook his head dreamily. Wenk noticed Cara Carozza’s +auburn-tressed head behind one the spectators, but his glance always +returned to the other woman. + +The banker bought a Court card and disclosed his own hand. He had only +a total of four. Basch, too, with a feverish movement, laid his on the +table. His points were but three. + +“He plays as if he were drugged!” whispered Wenk’s neighbour. “To hold +three, and yet not take a card! What folly!” + +As he raked in his gains the sandy-bearded stranger gave a hasty +glance at Wenk. The latter felt himself pitted against the winner. He +increased his stakes, won, then lost for several rounds, and won again. + +Basch continued to lose every time. By degrees Wenk ranged himself more +and more on his side. He staked his money as if it were a weapon for +Basch against the stranger, a weapon with which to strike him down. + +Wenk noticed that the latter looked at no one but himself and Basch. +He therefore accepted the challenge, and threw himself eagerly and +wholeheartedly into the struggle, impelled by some mysterious power +that incited him against the banker. He forgot himself altogether, +and no longer played for the purpose of observing and discovering. He +abandoned himself to the game and played like all those whom he had +come to rescue from the gaming-table. He even forgot the lovely lady. +When he first realized this, he was ashamed, and for the first time +during the evening he glanced round the room to see whether Hull were +there. + +But it was not Hull who now sat behind Cara Carozza. Wenk’s search was +vain; Hull was not present. Cara sat with a stranger behind a player +with whom she was sharing the stakes. Then Wenk came to himself. He +stopped playing and at once left the hall, sorely vexed with himself. +When he was on the winding stair he turned and saw that the stranger +with the fair sandy beard was also rising from the table. + +Wenk had ordered his car to call for him at the house where the musical +party was held, and did not remember this till he had walked some +distance. Then he retraced his steps and drove home. He went to bed at +once, but he could get no sleep, for the thought continually recurred +that he had made a mistake to come away, that he ought to have stayed +and talked to Basch. + +He got out of bed again and went through a bundle of depositions in +order to quiet his conscience. In going through these documents, +written by men who were strangers to him, he got the impression that +all of them, losing so much that they could not but ascribe it to +foul play, must have sat at the gaming-table very much as Basch did. +Had he remained and behaved in a sensible fashion, he would have had +an opportunity of seeing for himself at first hand what had hitherto +reached him through the testimony of others. + +Then Wenk became thoroughly discouraged. “I must set to work in quite +another way,” he said to himself. “Goodwill and industry are not +sufficient. Self-denial and inexorable self-discipline and a little +more cunning are necessary! I must make use of every ruse that my +opponent displays.... I must make use of disguise and secret spying. +I must be prepared to stake myself on the game ... must be myself the +snare, if I do not want to be caught in it like a silly pigeon.... +A State official with a false beard ... a Browning concealed in his +fist ... a jockey-cap, a tall hat, a wig, and so on, like the cinema +stage....” + +In the looking-glass he contemplated his clean-shaven face, finding +that when he made grimaces, drew down the corners of his mouth, +stretched his jaws, and tried the effect of a beard made out of paper +shavings, his features lent themselves very well to disguise. + +The next day he procured a complete outfit from the Criminal +Investigation Department. With the help of a Secret Service expert, +he tried all the necessary arts, learned to plaster on a beard, to +alter his complexion, make himself look younger or older, change his +appearance by scars, and so on. He could now make up as a country +cousin, a dispatch-bearing cyclist, a taxicab driver, a porter, waiter, +steward, window-cleaner, an “unemployed,” and other characters. In +the morning he made an exhaustive examination of the criminal museum +which the police had collected, studied the photographs he found there, +returned to his various make-ups, and worked with the zeal of a fanatic. + +Thus the day passed, and by evening he felt he had become a stronger +man. He was at once more discreet and yet more daring. He would have +liked to make a tour at once of all the gaming-houses in the city. + +He went only to Schramm’s, however. He had long been considering +whether he should not appear there in some sort of disguise, more for +the purpose of making a trial of it and learning to feel at home in +it than for actually starting upon his work. He was still more anxious +to go in the hope of meeting the sandy-bearded man again and seeing +him play, for he was desirous of atoning for his shortcomings of the +previous evening, which had left a painful impression upon his mind. He +would have liked to meet Basch again and talk to him about the evils of +gambling, from which he had suffered so much. He went, therefore, just +as he was. + +It was already late when he got there. Hull was present, but he saw +neither the fair-bearded stranger nor Basch. He only heard that the +former had left immediately after him, a fact which all had noticed. +After he left, Basch had remained sitting as if utterly prostrate. He +had not played again, and suddenly he vanished. No one knew him well. +He had never been to Schramm’s before. + +The lady who sat behind him estimated that his losses must have been +thirty to thirty-five thousand marks. The blond stranger had won it +all, but he did not win until he began to hold the bank. Everything had +been absolutely in order. The attendant who furnished the cards was +thoroughly reliable. + +While talking about the previous night’s play they stopped their game. +Then Cara said: + +“There are people who are born players, and if they take only one card +in their hands it is sure to be an ace. They can do what they like; +the power is stronger than they are; it is their guiding spirit, their +God.” + +But Elsie did not agree with her. She thought that every player once +in his life came upon a series of lucky days. They lay stretched out +before him, handed to him by his good fairy, for every man had a good +fairy. One must not give up expecting to meet with those times of good +fortune, for one day one could gather in the winnings as quickly as +ripe apples in the autumn.... + +No one knew the man with the sandy beard. Basch had brought him to +Schramm’s, and the first evening they had gone away together. He might +be a dethroned prince, he was so imperious and abrupt in his speech. A +dethroned prince in want of money, no doubt. + +“I have a strange feeling,” said Hull, “as if I had already played +against him once....” + +“Nonsense!” said Cara. + +In his mind the fancy grew stronger. “It is not so much that I have +played with him, but as if he had done me some very serious internal +injury, affecting my very blood; but how, and when, and where, I have +no idea. It must have been in a dream.” + +“He has evil eyes,” said a woman’s voice, which Wenk seemed to +recognize. He looked in that direction, but with the bright light on +the table the corner seemed as dark as a cave and he could descry no +one. + +Cara answered the voice in the darkness in a tone that seemed to have +anger in it: “Evil eyes! What do you mean by that? Surely at the +gaming-table no one looks like a saint!” + +From the corner there came the words, “He seemed to look at Basch like +a beast of prey eyeing his victim!” + +“That was exactly the impression he gave me!” exclaimed Wenk. + +He at once rose hastily and went to the corner, entered the dark niche +and started back, for the speaker was the beautiful unknown! A glow +suffused Wenk’s features and his heart began to beat violently, as if +its strokes must be heard. Then he pulled himself together, saying, “I +really must be mad! I am searching for a criminal and am about to fall +in love with someone whom I may have to send to prison to-morrow. This +is really idiotic!” He recovered his presence of mind, bowed to the +stranger and said: + +“I should be greatly interested, madam, to hear how you reached a +conclusion which so exactly resembles my own?” + +“It cannot be anything else,” said the lady, smiling, “than an unusual +evidence of secret sympathy between me and a State official!” + +“She knows me, then!” said Wenk to himself in astonishment. “But how +could that come about, except through Cara Carozza? A State official, +guardian and representative of the law, and avenger of any breach of +it, himself violating its rules! It was absolutely fantastic. Yes, it +must have been the Carozza girl.” From the niche he looked into the +brilliantly lighted room, where the dyed tresses of the dancer gleamed +forth between the heads. “So it was you!” he said to himself; “you want +to bring my plans to nought, you good-for-nothing!...” + +Then he remembered the glance the blond had given her that first +evening, and he ended, “You are his decoy!” Now he realized the +connection between them. It was the dancer who brought the blond his +victims. He breathed a threat: “Just you wait; I am taking it all in!” + +“Our agreement seems to have struck you forcibly,” said the lady, +interrupting his thoughts. + +“As a matter of fact, my thoughts were wandering, and I beg your +pardon, madam,” said Wenk; “it is incomprehensible that any strange +influence should be able to intervene in _your_ neighbourhood, but it +can be explained, nevertheless....” + +He did not continue. Two ideas suddenly obtruded themselves. This lady +was undoubtedly an excellent observer. If only he could procure her +help! But the other thought stirred his pulses. Why not abandon all +this searching and spying and following after criminals, and strive to +win the love of a woman such as this, beautiful as a queen and stately +as a goddess! Then he felt her touching his arm hastily. + +“Don’t speak,” she whispered, “I beg of you!” + +At the same moment Wenk saw three gentlemen entering the circle of +light in the room. The first was a young man whom he knew by sight, for +a few days previously he had noticed him at an exhibition of Futurist +paintings, as the buyer of the most unusual and bizarre of these. He +had asked the name of the purchaser, and the attendant had replied, +“Graf Told bought them. There he is,” pointing to the young man, who +had just now entered the room. + +“Herr von Wenk,” said the lady in a whisper, “will you do me a great +favour?” + +“With pleasure, madam. I am at your command.” + +“I am anxious to leave this room within the next few minutes without +being seen. Can you help me to do this?” + +“Certainly,” said Wenk. + +“How can I accomplish my purpose?” + +“That is quite simple. You see the entrance to that staircase; it is +only a few steps to it. You must look at it well, to be able to find it +in the dark. I am certain that I know where the electric light switch +is. It is just over the first section of the stairs. I will go there +and turn it out, and you can make use of the darkness to gain the +staircase. When you have passed me I will stand directly in the way of +anyone who tries to follow you or to reach the switch.” + +“Splendid! Thank you very much.” + +Her escape was safely made. When Wenk saw the lady had reached the +bottom, he turned the light on again and entered the room with a light +laugh, saying, “Please forgive me; I did it for a joke, and I did not +realize you would be in total darkness.” + +They all laughed, but the dancer was standing, pale and disturbed, at +the head of the winding stair, which she had reached at one bound. She +recovered herself quickly and returned to Hull, begging him to drive +her home. Wenk accompanied them. + +As they were about to leave the gaming-hall, Wenk saw the head-waiter +hand Hull an envelope. He went to an empty table beneath a lamp, opened +it, and drew out a little note. It seemed as if an invisible thrust +had sent him staggering. Cara went up to him, but he crumpled up the +note, stuffing it into his pocket, and rose and followed the others out. + +When they had reached the street they parted, but Hull turned and came +back to Wenk, saying, in a voice trembling with excitement, “I _must_ +speak to you. This very night! Can you see me at your rooms in an +hour’s time? It is something horrible; I am being shadowed!” + + * * * * * + +“Look at this!” said Hull, as he entered Wenk’s rooms an hour later. +With a despairing gesture he flung an envelope on Wenk’s table. The +latter opened it and drew a small card from it. On it there stood: + + HERR BALLING, + I O U + 20,000 (twenty thousand) marks + payable November 21st, 4 p.m. + EDGAR HULL. + +“My I O U,” said Hull in a toneless voice, and after a pause, “Look at +the other side!” + +On the reverse side Wenk read: “You are warned. The reason I did not +take your twenty thousand marks is my affair alone. The transaction +lies between you and me. Play is play, and no State Attorney has +anything to do with it.” + +Wenk was staggered. “Yes, yes, yes,” he said, and found no other words +to express the storm which raged within him. Then after a while, as he +collected himself, he said: + +“We sat near him, you and I! We could have seized him by the arm, one +on each side, you ... and I! Do you understand?” + +“I am shadowed!” whispered Hull, who seemed to have no thought of +anything except his immediate danger. + +“Do you understand? Do you know who Balling is? Your Balling? your +distinguished old gentleman? It is the man with the fair beard who was +at Schramm’s. He is your Herr Balling! Good heavens!... We could have +put our hands on his shoulder!” + +Hull merely gasped. Now he knew why the sandy-bearded man had seemed +familiar to him; his were the large, fierce grey eyes! + +“Yes,” he said, “it _is_ the same man!” + +“He has disappeared,” exclaimed Wenk; “he no longer comes to Schramm’s. +And as for you, Herr Hull, we shall henceforth have you under our +special care, but you must endeavour to meet our wishes and be +constantly on your guard.” + + + + +IV + + +Hull departed, and Wenk, alone with the impressions which the evening’s +experiences had left on his mind, asked himself, “Why did the fair +unknown try to get away so secretly? Have I made another mistake? Has +my helping her in her flight placed a weapon in the hand which would +strike at me and my work?” + +His agitation increased, but he dismissed his doubts of the lady. +No, he felt he could rely upon her. And now the realization of the +connection between Hull and the gambler, and all the other stories +about the latter, set his mind working in a fresh direction, and other +ideas began to develop. He seemed to hear the beating of the wings of +some new and mighty force that was invading his life. Conflicts were +going on in his physical nature, his phantasy, his nervous energy and +endurance. His knowledge of men and his dominion over them were being +put to the test. Thinking fiercely, he smoked cigar after cigar, and +clouds of smoke surrounded him. It was spring-time, storm, sunshine, +and again storm, in his blood. His muscles were engaged in an imaginary +and heroic conflict with mysterious and mighty giants who were seeking +to strangle his fellow-men. He had seized one of them by the false +reddish beard which he had assumed, in semblance of humanity. + +From the town, lapped in slumber, it seemed as if the spirit of the age +rushed into his room--an age fraught with dangers, demands, and tension +of all kinds. It demanded men--demanded of all men all their ambition, +self-discipline, intelligence, selflessness ... selflessness. It should +take him! There he was, free alike from arrogance and from indolence! +Might there not be, he asked himself in his ecstatic monologue, a new +democracy which should redeem the past? Was that the goal towards which +the present gloom was leading mankind? Was he rising on the stormy +wave? He would no longer drift along, striving to help his country as a +mere idealist. No, he would stand firm on his feet; struggle, contest, +but not submit! Freed from thoughts of self, he would expend the last +drop of his blood to become what he had learned to be; he would yield +all he had to give, to the very last red drop. + +It was not his career that was at stake, but that which all men have in +common, both in conflict with each other and in helping one another. +It was the surge of humanity in which mortals, for good or ill, were +engulfed in a gloom which none could dominate and subdue. In that night +of reflection the lawyer saw the criminal no longer as a being of an +inferior order. He envisaged him as a man whose pulses raced madly +along, his senses stirred by the powers of hell; a man whose lusts and +appetites, demon-fed, should overreach themselves and be brought to +nought, and he, Wenk, should save and deliver him. The fighter should +gain the ascendancy over his adversary. + +In imagination Wenk was now struggling with the blond stranger, and in +him he had a powerful opponent. He suspected even more than he already +knew. If he could relieve mankind of him, he would have accomplished +something by which he could advance further. + +The song which Wenk’s heart had been singing for the last two hours +suddenly seemed to be familiar to him, and in astonishment he realized +that the state to which he had now come had been foreshadowed in +his boyhood’s days, even before his university career, his military +training, and his entry into law, when as yet no idea of the +justification of humanity had fired his blood. Thinking over his lonely +bachelor existence, without any womanly influence, he felt a strange, +sad yearning for the father who had died long before. + +The next day Wenk asked Hull to procure for him a list of all the +secret gambling-dens, the addresses of which might be obtained with +the help of Cara, who was _au courant_ of such matters. He made Hull +promise, however, that he would not speak to the girl of himself in +this connection. + +Wenk visited these places evening by evening. He went disguised as a +rich old gentleman from the provinces. He had chosen this disguise, +first of all, because he had an excellent example of it in an elderly +uncle whom he merely had to copy. The old gentleman gave the impression +that he was thoroughly enjoying all his experiences of the great city. + +Wenk had some accomplices among Karstens’ acquaintances. He begged +them to make it widely known that he, the “country cousin,” was a man +of fabulous wealth, which when once settled down, he intended to use +to the full. He thought that thus he might entice the gambler from +Schramm’s and others bent on plunder, that his wealth would be the +candle to these night moths. At times he played carelessly for half an +hour, adapting himself to the character of the game; then he would win +considerable sums, only to lose them again next time. With all this he +never lost sight of his own affairs or his neighbours’, and during the +game his brain was working busily with a keenness which brought its own +satisfaction. + +One evening during the second week in which he was pursuing this +course, he came to a gaming-house in the centre of the city which, from +the style of its habitués, who appeared more downright than in some of +the other places, seemed to promise him something out of the common. +There he saw an old gentleman sitting at the card-table, his attention +being drawn to him on account of his horn spectacles. These were of +unusual size. The old gentleman was addressed as Professor. When he +took his cards in his hand, he removed his horn spectacles, exchanging +them for eyeglasses of an uncommon shape. + +Then Wenk noticed that the spectacles now lying on the table were not +the usual type of modern horn spectacles, but were of tortoiseshell, +very artistically designed. The old gentleman slipped them into a +large shagreen case, dotted over with green points. All his movements +were very leisurely, so that Wenk had ample time for his observations. +“Those are Chinese spectacles,” he thought to himself, recalling +his own journey to China, which he had made before the war. The +recollection surged up so powerfully that he uttered aloud what he had +really only intended to say to himself. + +The Professor, who sat opposite him, nodded to him and said in a firm +voice, which he had not expected to hear from so aged a mouth, “They +are from Tsi-nan-fu!” + +He repeated the name, stressing it and separating the syllables, +“Tsi-nan-fu.” It was as if the name had a rhythm and recollection +behind it which affected him strongly, and which he enjoyed in the mere +repetition of the syllables. He looked across at Wenk, as if his eyes +in their large glasses were sending him a challenge. Wenk at once felt +some strange connection with the old Professor. + +“Tsi-nan-fu,” said the harsh voice again, as if with special meaning; +indeed, as if he wanted to hurl the three syllables at something, some +invisible goal behind Wenk--to reach, three times over, an invisible +point in the obscurity straight above his head beyond the circle of +electric light. + +Wenk involuntarily raised his hand to the back of his head and turned +round. Was he seeking the spot towards which the three syllables were +projected, and had they reached their goal? When he looked round he +observed that behind his neighbour at the gaming-table sat the lady +whose mysterious flight from Schramm’s he had assisted. It seemed as +if she were regarding him mockingly, and he did not know what course to +pursue with regard to her, but at that moment he felt that cards were +being dealt to him, and he turned again to the table to take them up. +As he did so he began to feel sleepy, and felt dimly that the staring +eyes of the Professor were somehow responsible for this. He forgot +the beautiful unknown, and strove to banish his lassitude, sitting +bolt upright and gazing at the green shagreen cover of the Chinese +spectacle-case. It seemed as if the eyes of the old Professor, larger +than ever behind his glasses, were fixed vaguely upon him, and some dim +recollection of past days of travel flitted into his mind. One morning +on his journey to China, through the porthole of his cabin he had seen +a narrow strip of coast-line between sky and sea, and knew it for the +delta of the Yang-tse-kiang. Yes, it was the Yang-tse-kiang. + +Pursuing this recollection, Wenk named his stake, won it, and left +his money lying. A comfortable sense of drowsiness pervaded him, and +he stretched himself out, enjoying it. Then he became wide awake once +more, played his game, and continued his watch. The players were +holding the bank in turns, and it seemed to Wenk as if he were only +awaiting the moment when the old gentleman should take it over. “Why am +I waiting for that?” he asked himself. “How strange it is that I should +be. There are feelings that one cannot trace to their source.” + +He finally decided that he was awaiting that moment because the +Professor with the Chinese spectacles was the most interesting person +present, and that this waiting sprang from a feeling of _rapport_ and +sympathy with him. + +As the evening proceeded, this secret bond between him and the unknown +Professor grew stronger still. “It is childish and sentimental,” he +told himself; “what is it going to lead to?” + +Then the old gentleman took the bank, and Wenk seemed to be +released--released from a ridiculous and unnatural tension. “Now +things will be all right,” he thought. He staked a small sum, trying +to indicate thereby that he was no opponent of the banker, and that +it was only for form’s sake he played against him.... He won, for he +held eight points, and then he ascertained that he had staked a much +bigger note than he had intended to. Therefore he put his stake and his +winnings together and ventured both. He drew a king and a five. When he +held a five he never bought another card, and this rule was so firmly +established in his mind that when asked to say Yes or No, he did not +even answer. + +“You are taking a card?” were the words he heard in his fit of +abstraction. They were uttered by a deep, compelling voice, and seemed +almost threatening in tone. Strangely, too, they seemed to him to +proceed from the spot behind and above him which had been the goal of +the sounds “Tsi-nan-fu.” + +Then he whispered hesitatingly, “Please!” and at the same instant he +seemed to dissociate himself inwardly from this decision, but it was +too late. He had drawn a five, and that, added to the cards he held, +totalled more than twenty-one and made his hand worthless. + +The banker’s hand showed a queen and a four, and as he had taken no +other card, he had won the round. + +“The country cousin is losing!” said a woman’s voice. + +The hasty ejaculation astonished Wenk. He turned round again, trying +to penetrate the obscurity; then he grew uneasy, and at the same time +he seemed to feel the beating of wings above his eyes. Yes, they were +wings, and he himself was in a bird-cage. And now a seven was dealt +him. “That’s no good,” something seemed to say to him, although it +was almost certain to win. But Wenk resisted the suggestion, and +said distinctly, “No other card for me!” It seemed as if it were +almost death to him to have to utter these words.... He felt as if +lightning-stabs were compelling him to close his eyes. Then in the +last struggle of his will against his unnatural weariness he saw the +Professor’s hand resting on the cards. It pressed the upper one with +a slight trembling movement, in evident desire of giving it him, and +it seemed as if a secret and burning stream passed from this hand to +him, seeking to _compel_ him to take the card, although he had already +declined it. + +Recognizing this, he was suddenly wide awake. It seemed as if the +chains destined to fetter his soul had fallen from before him, and he +now faced the Professor fearlessly, seized with an incomprehensible +and strangely earnest misgiving with regard to him. He was tempted to +spring up and beat the beckoning fingers away from the card. + +“You are taking a card?” said the deep, stern voice, as if issuing an +order. It was the voice he had already heard from behind him. Then +Wenk, in an unusually loud tone, said firmly and indignantly, “No, I +have already declined!” + +The large eyes behind the glasses remained fixed, gazing at him for the +space of a second, then shrank back like hounds before a more powerful +assailant. The old gentleman leaned slightly forward, asked for brandy +and water, and shortly afterwards requested to be allowed to give up +the bank and leave the game. He felt suddenly indisposed, he said.... + +They all busied themselves with him, crowding round his seat, but +Wenk remained in his chair. He was struck by the connection between +his little experience and the old gentleman’s attack of faintness. +Were they indeed connected? He felt as if he were responsible for the +Professor’s collapse. It seemed as if he had subconsciously come into +conflict with him, and that this fainting-fit was the result of their +struggle. He was considering how he could help him. Then he felt in his +waistcoat-pocket and brought out his little bottle of smelling-salts. +He took the stopper out and handed it across, saying, “Perhaps these +salts may be of use? I have just ...” but he was surprised to find that +the old gentleman had already departed. + +His earlier misgivings returned. He rose quickly and pushed his way +through the crowd. He wanted to follow the man and bring him back. +Someone suddenly stopped him, saying something incomprehensible, as if +he, Wenk, were responsible for the Professor’s condition; but Wenk’s +hand went to the revolver in his breast-pocket. Cara Carozza advanced +towards him; he pushed her hastily aside, dragging the other with him. +Then with his disengaged hand he violently wrenched himself free of his +assailant’s grip, and hurried to the corridor which formed the dimly +lighted side-entrance. He heard footsteps behind him as he entered it, +hastened forward, closed the door behind him after passing through, and +soon gained the side street where the motor-cars were waiting. + +By the light of a lantern he saw the old gentleman, bent and bowed no +longer, but with hasty and powerful stride about to enter a car. He saw +his own chauffeur drawing up to the kerb, and called to him in a low +voice, “Follow that car!” + +They flew after it. It was a large and powerful car, but as it was +still early in the evening, there was a good deal of traffic, and it +could not travel at its full speed, consequently they were close behind +it. They were soon caught up in a stream of cars and taxicabs coming +from one of the theatres, so that Wenk could follow quietly and without +exciting suspicion right to the Palace Hotel. The Professor’s car +stopped in front of it, and before Wenk’s car came to a standstill he +saw the other enter the vestibule hastily. He gave a fleeting glance +round. Wenk hastened after him, but happened to be caught in the stream +of those entering, who hid him from sight. He saw the Professor rapidly +open and read a telegram at the hotel bureau, and while he was reading +it Wenk had time to select a favourable spot for observing him. Thus +he saw that the old gentleman, raising his eyes from his telegram, gave +a furtive glance round, then went quickly to the lift, opened the door +and disappeared within it; but Wenk had noticed that there was a lift +attendant sitting inside. + +He waited till the light signalled where the lift had stopped, and saw +it was on the first floor; then he rang for it to descend. + +“First floor!” said he to the boy, and they went up alone. + +“Wasn’t it the gentleman in No. 15 who just went up?” he asked. + +“No, sir; it was the Dutch Professor in No. 10.” + +“Ah, then my eyes must have deceived me,” he said. “Thank you;” and +he proceeded slowly along the corridor. He came to No. 10, lingered a +moment there, then went on and looked backward, hearing a door open. It +might have been No. 10. He waited, stooping down and busying himself +with his shoelace, and when he heard the door shut again, he turned +round. Then he saw that on the mat in front of No. 10 there was a pair +of shoes. + +He went back, an unusual idea having occurred to him. He would knock at +the door and ask the old gentleman whether he had recovered from his +indisposition, and then take him unawares, for he felt he had enough to +go upon to arrest him. The idea seemed to him both a bold and promising +one, but when he stood in front of No. 10 again, he saw that the shoes +outside the door were women’s shoes, and he gave up the thought. Then +he went downstairs and asked to see the hotel manager. He showed him +the necessary credentials and asked about the gentleman in No. 10. The +hotel list was brought. + +“No. 10, you see, sir, is Professor Grote, from The Hague.” + +“According to your book he is staying here alone.” + +“That is so, your honour.” + +“Is he always alone here, or now and then with a female companion?” + +“I do not allow anything of that sort, your honour. We are very strict +about our guests’ respectability.” + +“Well, I can only say that this guest, in spite of his size, has +uncommonly small feet.” + +“What does your honour mean by that?” + +“He wears ladies’ shoes.” + +“Ah now, sir, you are joking.” + +“Well, come with me, my good fellow, and see for yourself.” + +They went upstairs together. In front of No. 10 they saw a pair of +elegant high-heeled shoes of the latest fashion. + +Then Wenk cocked his revolver and went in without the formality of +knocking. He entered the room quickly, the hotel manager following him. +The light was on, but the room was empty. Both the windows were closed +and the bathroom adjoining had none. Wenk searched the cupboards, bed, +and drawers, but nowhere was any clue to be found. He hurried down to +the street, but the stranger’s car had disappeared. + +He made the manager inquire who had left the hotel within the last ten +minutes. “Nobody but the secretary,” said the commissionaire. At that +moment the secretary came from behind a partition, ready to leave the +hotel. The man looked at him in amazement. + +“You here again! You only left a few minutes ago.” + +“_I_ did? I was in the bureau till this very minute,” answered the +employé. + +Then Wenk knew all he needed to know, and the circumstance was fully +explained. For the purposes of disguise the man who had disappeared +had prepared the outfit of someone well known in the hotel. He had +put a woman’s shoes at his door, for he conjectured, and rightly too, +that the pursuer, before he entered the room, would go back to the +bureau and inquire about the mystery of the feminine footwear, and he +had made good use of the time this took. It was evident to Wenk that +he was dealing with a mastermind. He was astonished at the dexterity +with which he worked. It immediately recalled the doings of the blond +stranger at Schramm’s, and Hull’s Herr Balling. + +On his homeward way, and after he reached his chambers, Wenk thought +over all he knew about the bearded blond, and tried to compare it with +the impressions made on him by the Professor. But, strangely enough, +although many details concerning the gambler at Schramm’s were firmly +and indelibly fixed in his mind, his impressions of the Professor were +wavering and indistinct, although he had encountered him but an hour +before. + +Moreover, he grew drowsy and it seemed to him as if he had to recover +from some more than ordinary fatigue which he had undergone in the +course of the day. He began to undress, and a lassitude, almost like +that caused by the loss of blood, overcame him. That feeling of an +inward lightness of body which had seemed so comfortable when he +recalled it at the close of their contest, the nervous tension after +the last occurrence, together with the sensation of faintness, now +took possession of him entirely. He yielded to it and fell asleep +before he had quite finished undressing. In his dream it seemed as if +a mysterious and magic castle had been built up all round him, and +he knew that if he could interpret the three syllables “Tsi-nan-fu,” +or locate that hole in the wall whither The Hague professor’s voice +projected them, he would find the key to unlock the door of the +enchanted castle. + + + + +V + + +For the next few evenings Wenk did not visit any gaming-house. As his +own chauffeur, dressed in leather cap and coat, he drove round the +city, bringing his car to a standstill before one or other of its +well-known resorts, and observing, from the security of the driver’s +seat, the people who entered or left it. + +On one occasion, when he was driving to the first of these houses and +proceeding slowly along the Dienerstrasse, he was held up by a block +in the traffic. While he was waiting, he saw in a tobacconist’s, just +in front of which his course was arrested, something which caused his +pulses to beat at double time. It was he, the sandy-bearded man! He had +his back turned and was buying cigars, but it was certainly he! He was +making his choice slowly and carefully as if he defied the danger of +being recognized. There was a car in front of the door. Wenk examined +it closely, but it was unfamiliar to him. He copied its number down. + +Once the chauffeur left it, in order to do something to the back of the +car. Wenk, who was behind him, called to him; the man looked up, but +put his hands to his mouth as if to signify that he was dumb. + +The man in the shop took up his parcel and turned to the door, but the +face he disclosed to Wenk was one he had never seen before. People +pushed between him and Wenk, so that he saw him for a moment only. Just +then the block was released, the string of cars drove on, and the one +in front of him set off at a bound, as if hastening to get away from +pursuit. + +Wenk, however, could not shake off his conviction. He followed. As soon +as the other car was free of the rest, it increased its speed, and +bore off to the Maximilianstrasse. Wenk was unable to keep up with it. +The street was empty throughout its length, and when he had reached +the square at the end he saw that the car in front was turning down +Wiedenmeierstrasse. He still followed, the distance between them always +increasing, but in the moonlight he never lost sight of his quarry +throughout the length of the street. When he reached the Max Joseph +Bridge, he saw that the car in front was making use of the wide square +on the other bank of the Isar to make a detour, and suddenly, with its +engines throbbing, it came back across the bridge and drove past him. +It then drove again down the Wiedenmeierstrasse, which it had just +ascended. + +This was certainly a suspicious circumstance, and Wenk did all he could +to gain upon the other car, and turned round while still on the bridge. +Again the other turned into the Maximilianstrasse, and as it was now +teeming with traffic, Wenk was able to bring his own vehicle close up. + +The strange car came to a halt outside a theatre of varieties. Wenk +sprang from his car, and when the stranger left his and, turning +his back on Wenk, entered the theatre, he felt the same overpowering +conviction that it really was the blond--it could be no other. + +In feverish excitement Wenk pushed past the people and got into the +theatre. He saw that he would overtake the stranger in the _foyer_, +so he waited among the rest, certain that the other would have to +pass by him.... But when he did, Wenk saw a broad, clean-shaven man, +with a heavy mouth and large staring eyes. The face was quite unknown +to him, and coolly and indifferently the large eyes glanced at him. +Disappointed and disgusted, Wenk passed by, intending to go out to his +waiting car. + +A few late arrivals detained him in the proximity of the cloakroom. It +was exactly eight o’clock, and the signal that the curtain was about +to go up was already being given. At this moment Wenk realized what a +difficulty there would be and what excitement would be created were he +to arrest his man then and there. Unwilling to let his quarry escape +him, he turned once more, and then saw the other disengaging himself +from a group of men who were pushing forward to the pit, making his +way quietly to the left-hand entrance to the boxes. This led to the +five ground-floor boxes, as Wenk knew. He quickly made up his mind and +bought a seat in one of them for himself. It was the last to be had, +and the plan showed him that each box held five persons. + +Going back to his car, he crept inside, and there changed into evening +dress. From the box-office he telephoned his chauffeur to come for the +car, and then returned to his box. + +It was dark when he entered it, and he tried, but without success, to +distinguish the stranger’s features in the dim light. When the light +went up again he was equally unsuccessful in tracing him anywhere +among the twenty ladies and gentlemen sitting in the lower boxes. It +was altogether incomprehensible. This corridor led to the five boxes +only, and they were five or six feet above the pit. How had his quarry +escaped him? + +Now thoroughly uneasy, Wenk hastened to the street to see whether the +stranger’s car was still there. To his relief he found it there. + +He breathed more freely, and turned to go to his own car and remain +there until he could pursue the other, but as he noticed the strange +car again, he saw that it had a taximeter. He had looked at the car +well before, and was certain that it had no register. Without further +reflection, Wenk approached the chauffeur, saying, “Are you disengaged?” + +“Yes, sir,” said the chauffeur. + +Wenk entered the car, giving his own address. During the drive he +intended to consider his next move; then it suddenly occurred to him +that the man, who had been dumb when in the Dienerstrasse, answered +instantly when spoken to here. + +The automobile drove on; a sweetish scent pervaded its interior, which +affected Wenk’s mucous membranes. + +Something _was_ wrong then! “A little while ago he was dumb, now he can +talk,” reflected Wenk. “Before it was a private car; now it is plying +for hire like a taxicab. What is it that smells so strongly?” His +nostrils and eyelids seemed to be on fire. + +In order to decide what the odour was, Wenk drew one or two deep +breaths. Then he tried to open the window, for he found the smell +unbearable. What _did_ it smell of? He raised his arm, but he saw +that it would not rise to its full extent; it did not obey his will. +At the same moment it seemed as if a heavy block were pressing on his +eyes. Then dread seized him in a fiery grasp. No longer capable of +resistance, he began to bellow furiously, flung himself down and kicked +with his foot at the handle of the door, but without being able to find +it. + +For some few seconds he lay on the floor of the car, with occasional +gleams of consciousness. Then these were finally extinguished, and +complete insensibility overtook him, while the car continued its mad +race through the streets. + +The chauffeur drove with the unconscious form of the drugged State +Attorney throughout the darkness to Schleissheim. There he propped him +up on a bench, and then drove back to Munich. In the Xenienstrasse he +halted before a residence standing alone. Upon a brass plate might be +read: + + DR. MABUSE, + _Neurologist._ + +A man of massive build, covered by a fur coat, came rapidly out of the +house and through the little front garden to the car. “He is lying in +the Schleissheim Park,” said the chauffeur. “Here is the notebook you +wanted.” + +“Did you remove the gas-flask from the car?” + +“Yes, Doctor.” + +“Drive on!” + +But at this moment a woman, closely muffled up, came out of the +darkness and stepped towards the car. She held on to the door, +murmuring beseechingly, “Dearest!” + +Mabuse turned in annoyance. “What do you want? Are you begging?” + +The woman answered him gently and sadly. “Yes, begging--for love!” + +“You know my answer.” + +“But remember the past. Why should this be?” implored the voice. + +Mabuse, in wrath, exclaimed, “The past is past. Your part is to obey. +My orders are clear, and there is nothing between Yes and No. You have +heard from George what my wishes are. Drive on, George!” + +He was already in the car. The woman fell back to the garden railings, +covered herself up again, and called after the retreating car, “But if +I cannot stop loving you?” + +Then a second car pulled up close beside her. A man sprang out and +advanced towards her, saying threateningly, “What do you want here? Oh, +oh! it’s you, Cara! Well, have you spoken to the Doctor?” + +She nodded despairingly. + +“There’s nothing to be done. His will is like a sledge-hammer, +therefore don’t oppose it. So long! I must go after him.” + +And Cara Carozza gathered her disguising garments about her and went +away in grief, downcast and heavy-hearted, to sacrifice herself for him. + + * * * * * + +“Where are we?” inquired Mabuse through the speaking-tube. + +“Past Landsberg!” answered George. + +The plans in Mabuse’s head succeeded one another as rapidly as the +trees in a forest in which he wandered continually further. Ever more +steps to climb, more gulfs to cross! Were they really plans after all? +Were they not dreams? he asked himself, suddenly checking the thoughts +that were racing through his mind. + +“Five million Swiss francs are now worth about twenty-five million +lire, i.e. five million Italian five-lire pieces. Each of these weighs +twenty grams. Five million, will that be enough? It’s a good idea, for +the gain on every five-lire piece which I buy at to-day’s rate with +Swiss francs is four francs; therefore the total gain will be four +million Swiss francs. Against that the costs are thirty per cent. Good! +Each one, I said, weighs twenty grams. Now, how many kilograms are +there in five million times twenty grams? A hundred million grams? Why +cannot I think out these simple calculations clearly? Am I afraid of +anything?” + +Yes, there again he found himself in another forest. “Am I afraid, +really afraid? If I am, I shall come to grief. After all, who is Hull? +Who is Wenk? What absurdity! _I_ ... afraid?” + +He collected his ideas, and sent these thoughts packing. + +“A hundred million grams make a hundred thousand kilograms. According +to the district he is in, a smuggler can carry from ten to fifteen +kilos every time. How many men am I employing in this work alone? +The whole amount must be brought from Italy to the Southern Tyrol +and thence to Switzerland within a month. The Austrian frontiers are +easier, even if I have to employ twice the number. Spoerri reckoned the +risk to be only three per cent., according to the police reports, as +against ten per cent. by Lake Constance or the Ticino frontier, where +the Customs officials, even in peace-time, used to regard everybody +with suspicion.” + +Mabuse’s imagination threatened to run away with him again. Should he +not try to sleep? + +“Where are we?” he called through the speaking-tube. + +“At Buchloe!” was the reply. + +The distance from Buchloe to Röthenbach was eighteen kilometres. + +“That will take two hours,” he reflected; “then we shall do it +comfortably. At 2 p.m. we must be at Schachen, and before that we meet +Spoerri at Opfenbach and Pesch on the Lindau Hill. After that we shall +be practically in Schachen, and there will be no chance of sleep.” + +But he could not regain control of himself. Wenk’s attempt at pursuit +oppressed him. In the Palace Hotel he had only had ten minutes’ start +of him. + +He did not want to acknowledge it, even to himself. He began to +reckon that to smuggle five million five-lire pieces from Italy and +the Southern Tyrol through Vorarlberg to Switzerland would require two +hundred and fifty people on each frontier. That was five hundred men +for the smuggling alone. If he reckoned the buyers and the Bolzano +collectors as well, it was really seven hundred. With their families +he might consider that he was keeping, roughly, about four thousand +people. That was a small township. A little town lay in his grasp, +pledged to evil purposes, working in dark nights, stealing along +mysterious byways, avoiding the revolvers of Customs officials, working +stealthily, steadily, at his will. They had no thought either, but of +him, the owner of the money, the employer and dictator, the possessor +of all power and force. They ventured their lives for him, but he had +never seen one of them. How would it be if he were to see and converse +with them, appearing abruptly before them when they were in the midst +of their enterprise? They would imagine themselves to be caught, until +they should have realized that it was he, their master and employer, +who stood amongst them. + +Four thousand people; it was a whole district. But in Citopomar it +would be something very different when he traversed the virgin forests +and had the Botocudos and all the other tribes directly under his +thumb, and had left this insignificant beggarly little continent behind +him! There his word alone would be law. There, in Citopomar, the dream +of his boyhood would be fulfilled--a dream which had already begun to +be realized on that large and desolate island which lay cradled in +the ocean yonder. There he had owned men; there wild Nature was his +alone; as a conqueror he had sailed the waters; his blood and sinews +governed men; his will was imposed on Nature; the palms of his planting +yielded him a luxuriant growth of wealth--sheer gold. He could despise +it because he did not need it, for there he was free, free as a king, a +deity!... + +But the war had driven him out of his Paradise and sent him back to +the despised continent of Europe. He could not endure life in these +European countries. He felt as if he were confined in a pasture, eating +grass like dumb, senseless cattle ate their predestined, accustomed +grass. No, he could not live thus! Therefore by undermining State +organization he was preparing a State for himself, with laws which he +alone made, with powers vested in himself over the souls and bodies of +men. By means of his accomplices he was collecting the money wherewith +to establish his empire in the primeval forests of Brazil, the Empire +of Citopomar. + +He was self-sufficing. What were men to him? He scattered them at will. +Yonder, however, in the future, in Citopomar, there would be none who +_could_ oppose him. + +By degrees, as these thoughts ran away with him, Mabuse fell asleep, +his limbs reclining on the cushions and his phantasies soaring above +all material things. For two long hours he slept, sunk in the darkness +of his dreams. + +Then it seemed as if a little hammer were striking his skull, always on +the same spot. It was annoying, and it was unheard of. He had only two +hours between Buchloe and Röthenbach in which to sleep. Who had dared +to strike his head with this hammer? + +All at once he was wide awake. The hammer was the whistle of the +speaking-tube. + +“Well?” called out Mabuse. + +“There is a car behind us.” + +“What are its marks?” + +“There is a grey patch on the right lamp.” + +“What is the time?” + +“Half-past one.” + +“And where are we?” + +“Two kilometres from Röthenbach.” + +“Pull up! It is Spoerri.” + +The car stopped, and immediately its lights went out, and so did those +of the car which followed. Then it drove close up and stopped. There +was a cough heard. + +“Come here!” said Mabuse. + +Someone came out of the darkness. Mabuse had drawn the revolver from +his coat-pocket. The car-driver turned on a small electric lamp, and +its gleam disclosed a man wrapped in a large cloak. + +“Spoerri?” + +“Yes, Doctor.” + +The pistol was returned to its place. + +“Spoerri, wait here a quarter of an hour, or else drive to Schachen by +another route. You must arrive shortly after me, between half-past one +and two o’clock. I have decided on some great changes that I want to +tell you of before we go to Switzerland. Anything else?” + +“Everything is in order. I have another hundred kilos of cerium in the +car.” + +“Good. Between half-past one and two o’clock!” + +They drove on. As their road approached the Austrian frontier, which +was patrolled by officials, their lights were extinguished for a while, +but in Schlachters they shone out again, and the village was soon left +behind them. + +Half-way to Lindau, where forest and hill meet, they stopped again. + +“Anybody there?” + +“No, Doctor.” + +“Not Pesch?” + +“I don’t see anybody.” + +Mabuse quitted the car impatiently. + +“I will punish him for this. I _will_ have my people punctual!” + +He waited on, and the minutes crept by. Mabuse slapped his thigh +angrily. To keep him waiting! That a smuggler should dare to do such a +thing! He was consumed with impatience, and felt as if his dignity were +impeached. That a smuggler should keep him, the master, waiting! + +Five minutes later a car, with faint lights, issued from the junction +road and stopped on the highway. + +“Pesch!” exclaimed Mabuse. + +A man turned from the open car. + +“Yes, Doctor, here I am. It is Pesch.” + +“It is 1.45 a.m., and you were due at 1.35.” + +“Oh, a matter of ten minutes doesn’t count. _I’ve_ had to wait often +enough!” answered the voice in the darkness in a defiant tone. + +“If I had a horsewhip here I’d cudgel you soundly. Ten minutes mean +fifteen kilometres advance upon a pursuer, you fool! You are earning +two thousand marks from me to-night.” + +The other answered boldly, “And with my help _you_ are earning twenty +thousand!” + +“Five hundred thousand more likely, you blockhead,” said Mabuse; “but +that’s nothing to do with you. The only question here is who is master +and who servant.” + +“You are not my master,” said the other. + +“I am not? ... you say so, do you?” he thundered. “Very well, you can +get along home. I don’t want you any more--never any more!” + +He turned to his car and got in; then said hastily in a threatening +tone, “If you feel inclined to send any anonymous information to the +authorities, you’ll remember that there is a fir-tree growing in the +wood, and there’s room for you to hang there like your colleague Haim. +Drive on, George!” + +The car started off again. + +In the neighbourhood of Schachen, where stately houses with upper +stories made cars appear less striking, they found a park gate open, +and without any difficulty George found his way along the dark drive +leading to the villa. The lights were extinguished. + +While Mabuse and George were still standing on the doorstep Spoerri +arrived. + +When Mabuse opened the door and turned on the light, he saw that +Spoerri was dressed as a monk. + +“It is a mere accident,” said Spoerri. “I had to go to Switzerland in a +hurry, and down there in the Rhine valley a cowl is more useful than +even a genuine frontier pass. The last pass I had is in St. Gallen, and +you know that I had to leave there hastily. But I had left the list +of securities with Schaffer, and he brought them to me at Altstetten +to-day. It is not safe to send such things by post nowadays.” + +When he said this they were sitting in a large, well-furnished +dining-room. George served the supper, brought ready prepared from +Munich, and warmed up on the electric stove. Still eating, Mabuse said: + +“We will liquidate on the lake itself, and thus we shall gain five +points more than on land, according to the lists. I have bought five +million Italian five-lire pieces. They are coming to the Southern +Tyrol, and must be taken to Switzerland by way of the Vorarlberg. You +must look after that, Spoerri. The Italian agent is Dalbelli, in Meran. +You must go there to-morrow. I give you a month to do it in, and then +we shall start a fresh district. Switzerland is now strongly against +the importation of silver, and so there is less competition. We shall +get enough of the five-lire pieces in Italy, and I have tried to do it +with French silver too, but since the Treaty of Versailles there are so +many fresh business combines in France, and they give nobody anything +because the majority of them have not been in trade before. Have you +not noticed that?” + +Spoerri nodded, making some inward calculation. + +“Stop your calculations till I have done talking,” said Mabuse sharply, +and Spoerri looked up in confusion. + +Mabuse continued: “My confidential agent in the Government has informed +me that meat-control will be abolished in Bavaria next month, but the +matter will be kept dark. The difference in the prices prevailing in +Bavaria and in Würtemberg is an enormous one, and for the first few +weeks of decontrol it will still be very considerable. It would be a +good thing to begin buying up now, however, and you can say that I am +prepared to lay out ten million marks. Buy as much as you can get hold +of; haste is wisdom in this respect. Inquire of Meggers in Stuttgart +about the sales, and see that we have enough people for the transport. +Everything must be completed within three days of giving the orders. +We shall want from a thousand to twelve hundred head of cattle, and +look out for beasts of good quality. No sheep or pigs--the risk is too +great. Reckon it up for yourself before you do anything further. We get +thirty per cent. on our purchase, and therefore we can allow ten per +cent. on expenses. You must reckon more correctly than you did about +the salvarsan.” + +“That time I hadn’t calculated....” + +“Exactly, you hadn’t calculated correctly. Pesch is withdrawing; let +him be closely watched by the Removal Committee, for he is impulsive, +and if he plays the slightest trick he can be strung up beside Haim. By +the way, they haven’t found _him_ yet.... How much did you pay for the +cerium?” + +“It was dearer than....” + +“Everything always is dearer than ... the Poles or the Bolsheviks can +get it. How much?” + +“Fifty marks.” + +“Fifty Swiss francs then. They must have it, so don’t yield a stiver!” + +He whistled into the speaking-tube under the table. + +“George there?” he called out. “Everything in order?... Good. The +_Rhine_ is waiting, Spoerri. George, you are to be pilot; don’t forget +the securities. That’s all for the present”; and turning again to +Spoerri, “You’ll be in no danger in going to Zürich, Spoerri, will you?” + +“I am all right as soon as I’ve passed the Customs, and then I go on as +a priest.” + +“If you travel by the _Rhine_, you’ll avoid the Customs; you can take +charge of the securities and put them in the bank, to the account +of Salbaz de Marte, mining engineer. Here is the list: a million in +German Luxemburg stock, two million German Colonial Loan, five hundred +thousand-mark notes. These are to be changed at once into milreis; that +gives a better exchange than either dollars or Swiss francs. Inform +Dr. Ebenhügel that fresh securities have been deposited, and that I +want him to make use of the first favourable opportunity and sell +for milreis.... There is one rather difficult matter to settle: the +disposal of the people who have been working for me in Constance. If +they are unemployed....” + +“Many don’t want to work any longer, in any case,” said Spoerri. + +“I know. Those are the folks who have all they want; there’s nothing +to fear from _them_. With my help they have got their own houses and +are free of debt. But sometimes I have been obliged to take any workers +I could get, and those who don’t own their houses should be carefully +watched. The powder magazine is at Constance, for the young fellows +live there, and if we suddenly withdraw these high wages from them, +there is nothing for them to do but steal, and in a week’s time they’ll +find themselves in prison and will be blabbing everything in their +rage. Talk to George about this, and see what is to be done. He’s going +there to-morrow. The safest thing would be to pack them off into the +Foreign Legion. Go and see Magnard as soon as you have finished up in +Zürich and Meran. Don’t forget to claim the commission for them. Give +it to George, who can divide it among those concerned.... Authorize +Böhm to sell the three motor-boats that we have on the lake besides the +_Rhine_. _That_ always bears the ensign of the Royal Würtemberg Yacht +Club and therefore is unnoticed. Keep the _Rhine_ in this neighbourhood +for any emergency. The boat can do sixty kilometres if it is well +handled. Let us go.” + +George was waiting outside. The three men felt their way through the +darkness to the landing-stage, where they could hear the boat’s engines +throbbing. + +“You have followed out my orders and there’s nothing on board?” said +Mabuse. + +“Nothing but the cerium.” + +“Take it out then. I am not a dealer in scrap-iron!” + +George hastened forward. Three men were busy in the gloom. Then Mabuse +and Spoerri went on board and the boat started, going cautiously +through the night. The engine scarcely throbbed. There was a slight +vibration in the cabin where Mabuse sat, wrapped in his fur coat; then +he went to the deck aft, and impatiently forward to the engine. After +they had travelled for a while, he listened intently. It seemed to him +as if through the sounds made by his own boat a noise reached his ears. + +“Stop!” he cried suddenly. + +George stopped the engine, and the sounds outside ceased. They started +again, and immediately the sounds on the water, now on the right and +again on the left, were heard once more. Mabuse went on the fore-deck, +where the noise of the engine was not so distinct. From there he could +hear them quite distinctly. + +“We are pursued, or at any rate under surveillance,” he thought. “Can +it be that lawyer-detective Wenk?” Calmly, yet defiantly, he got his +pistols ready. In the darkness he tried to discern what flag the +_Rhine_ was carrying, but it was impossible to find out. + +“Spoerri,” he called out softly, and Spoerri came out of the cabin. +“What are we travelling as? Don’t you hear that we are being followed?” + +“No, no,” said Spoerri, “we are a Swiss patrol-boat to-night. I heard +that the Germans were about, so I ordered the three other boats to act +as convoy. One is travelling behind us, the others on each side. Nobody +could reach us; we are already in Swiss waters.” + +“How much a year do you earn in my service, that makes you take such +care of me?” said Mabuse spitefully. + +“Quite enough,” answered Spoerri; “but that is not why I do it.” + +“Why then? Are you enamoured of my person, or is it merely the +Christian charity that it suits you Swiss folk to assume since the war?” + +“Yes,” said Spoerri simply. + +“I have three and a half millions here in my dispatch-case. If you +dared to, you would strangle me, but you don’t dare, and that is all +there is about it. That is your pure humanity and love. During the last +year you have had somewhere about eighty-five thousand, six hundred and +seventy-seven marks or more from me.... Is that enough to stifle the +desire to murder a man?” + +“Yes,” said Spoerri once more. + +“Then you are a slave--my slave. Do you hear me? You are my slave.” + +“I hear you.” + +“Shall I slap your face? No; I won’t touch your slave-skin with my own. +I just spit in the air.” + +“Into the sea. You won’t pick a quarrel with anybody. There is no point +of honour on the Lake of Constance.” + +“Point of honour is an expression that doesn’t exist. A point is +no larger than a squashed fly, and that’s the extent of a man’s +honour--yours too, eh? You have some honour, even if the Lake of +Constance has not?” + +“I have never measured it.” + +“Speak sense when you talk to me. I won’t stand your tomfoolery.” + +“We are getting close to the shore.” + +“Are you shirking, fellow?” + +“No.” + +“You dog!” said Mabuse in a stifled voice, in growing wrath. “I feel +hatred tingling in my finger-tips. I shall grasp you by the throat, you +cur, you cowardly cur, and I shall annihilate you just as the electric +current in the American death-chair does, you miserable wretch!” + +At this moment the engine stopped. For some time the sounds of the +boats behind them had ceased. + +“Why have we stopped?” asked Mabuse angrily. “I gave no orders.” + +“There is no signal from the shore.” + +Then Mabuse came to himself again. He stood up, gnashing his teeth, and +asked: + +“What is the matter?” + +“We must wait. We can always rely on Solly. There is something wrong.” + +“Let us wait! Have you weapons ready?” + +“Yes, but if we don’t get the signal, we’d better get into the skiff. +Then we can row back to the other boats.” + +Behind Romanshorn a searchlight began to play, throwing a beam of light +into the sky. It moved lower and peered about through the darkness, +probing closely and lingering in places, then was directed towards the +waters in the middle of the lake. It rose in the sky once more and then +fell pitilessly on the very spot where Mabuse’s boat was lying. His +knees trembled under the tension. + +Suddenly, however, the shaft of light was fixed on a house standing +out prominently in Romanshorn, just where the new church stood on a +hill, and those in the boat perceived that the other craft must be far +beyond on the other side of the point, and did not signify any danger. +Their boat remained in darkness. In the railway-station on the shore +lamps hung here and there at some distance from each other, and their +reflections gleamed fitfully on the black waters. Then Mabuse said +sternly: + +“No, we’ll stay here! Tell George to get the pneumatic gun fastened to +the engine.” + +Spoerri sprang to do his bidding. + +Under the cushions there was a poison-gas installation. Mabuse opened +the nozzle. The wind was from the south-west and therefore favourable +to his purpose. He prepared masks for himself and his companions and +tried their fastenings. + +Then he saw on shore a light which shone out brightly and was at once +extinguished, then came again and flickered and was still. The engine +started again, and the boat was soon in the channel, gliding under the +trees, where it finally came to a standstill. The engine was silent, +and a man ashore threw out a cable. Then Mabuse heard someone say, “Dr. +Ebenhügel.” + +“Yes,” he ordered, “let him come on board.” + +A dim form stepped across the gangway. + +“It is I, Ebenhügel, Doctor. I have just come from Zürich. It is on +account of my car that Solly did not give the signal punctually. +The Customs authorities are on the watch every night with their +cars now. Did you get my wire? There is something wrong, for the +clerk has sent a warning. He could not tell us what was up, but from +some reply to one of his superiors he gathered that it came to the +Consulate headquarters in Zürich from the Munich Criminal Investigation +Department.” + +“So,” said Mabuse, closing his jaws firmly, “my lord Wenk is on the +track, is he? Just you wait a while, my fine official!” Then, turning +to Ebenhügel, he continued, “I am constantly in danger, but I’ve never +come to grief yet.” + +“I meant to say that this danger can only be averted in Munich. If +anything goes wrong, they must not be able to put the responsibility on +us here in Zürich.” + +Mabuse answered roughly, “What do you mean by that?” + +“This affair is of great importance for several people.” + +“For whom then?” + +“For myself, for example!” + +Mabuse waved his hand with a threatening gesture of dismissal, while +the other stood breathless. + +“_I_ have not been drinking,” said Mabuse. “How came you to alter my +plans for such a trifle?” + +“I thought it was necessary to warn you. The post is being watched, and +people are not reliable.” + +“Who is to convince me that _you_ are reliable? You are one of the +people too.” + +“Our common interests should convince you, Doctor. I merely meant to +tell you that it is from Munich that the danger threatens. You would be +safe in Switzerland. You have accumulated wealth which allows you to +live wherever you like. Stay here; you will be safe among us.” + +“A lot _you_ know about that! Your business is to look after my +investments, nothing else. You are but my manager. Enough on that head. +Is there anything else to tell me?” + +The lawyer described his latest financial operations to Mabuse, who +took down the descriptions furnished him. Then he walked backwards and +forwards alone on the foreshore for five minutes, to ease himself after +his long sitting. + +“Is Spoerri still there?” he asked. “Spoerri, you need not go to +Zürich. Ebenhügel will take the portfolio with him. We will go back to +Schachen together.” + +Upon the return journey Mabuse could not remain still in one place. +He was constantly backwards and forwards on the small deck. The three +convoys were again throbbing in their neighbourhood, their sounds +drowned in the ghostly darkness. Suddenly Mabuse called through the +speaking-tube to George, demanding brandy. Spoerri heard the order and +shrank in terror. + +In the half-hour which the passage took, Mabuse drank the bottle empty. +He was drunk when they landed, and he staggered through the darkness +towards the house in front of them, having issued orders that they were +not to follow for five minutes. + +“We want more drink,” said he, when they were in the dining-room. +“George, bring drinks!” + +George shuddered, for he knew that the more the doctor drank, the more +violent and unreasonable he became. Spoerri himself was always obliged +to drink till he lost his senses. They drank champagne and brandy mixed +in equal parts. + +“This is liquid gold,” stuttered Mabuse thickly. “Here, George, bring +bigger glasses! Let’s have the goblets. Spoerri, take a draught. You +fool of a courier, drink; drink it down, you dog. Down with it into +your currish throat! Now then, another! Drink till you can’t hold any +more in that carcass of yours. I love to see you drink till you’re +sick!” + +Spoerri drank until everything swam round him and he lapsed into +unconsciousness. + +“And you, my lord Wenk! A State Attorney in Munich! Your notebook! +_Your_ orders to the Criminal Investigation Department, forsooth! Just +wait a moment, my fine gentleman! We’ll begin with Herr Hull, for he +was the first.... (Drink, Spoerri, can’t you, you miserable country +bumpkin, drink; drink as I do!) Let me see--Hull, yes, Edgar Hull, 34, +Hubertusstrasse. Away with him, his turn first. George will look after +it, and you can help him. The Carozza girl can contrive it. Find your +accomplices. Write it down, it is the order of the ... Prince. (Drink +it down, now!) Of the Prince, have you written that? Which prince, do +you say? The Prince, the Emperor of Citopomar, in Southern Brazil. A +word from his mouth and a thousand women lie bathed in their blood, +five hundred men are reduced to impotence. One single word and a whole +edifice totters! Don’t simper, you fool, or I’ll dash your brains out +with this goblet!” + +He flung the vessel down, shattering it in pieces, and with the +fragments he threatened Spoerri. + +“I ... I am writing it,” stammered Spoerri. + +“A thousand women and five hundred men,” shouted Mabuse. + +“Doctor,” said Spoerri hesitatingly, struggling with the intoxication +overcoming his senses, “I did not hear; I do not know this Hull. What +am _I_ to do with him? 34, Hubertusstrasse.... Do you really mean _me_, +Doctor?” + +Then Mabuse all at once stood upright, intoxicated as he was. “Yes, +you!” he thundered, and then gave Spoerri a heavy blow with his fist, +full on his forehead, knocking him senseless to the floor. “I am going +to bed, George,” he shouted, overcome with rage. He left Spoerri lying +where he was, and went out. + +When he came into the dining-room again next morning, Spoerri was +sitting there. Mabuse had breakfasted in bed. + +“Show me your notes!” he ordered in a harsh voice. He ran through +them quickly, found Hull’s address traced in drunken characters, and +returned the book to Spoerri. “That’s all right,” said he, and Spoerri +fawned upon him like a cur watching to avoid a kick. + +That attitude of his did Mabuse good; it soothed and reconciled him, +and he became talkative. Spoerri was quietly delighted to find the +master friendly towards him, to know that the dread will of this +imperious man inclined him to be amiable, as if recognizing his +devotion. + +“Spoerri,” said the Doctor, “I shall go to Constance with you. We +mustn’t let those young men do anything stupid!” + +Spoerri brightened up. “Oh, when they once see you, Doctor, there’ll be +no trouble at all.” + +The two men remained all day long at the villa. Mabuse drank, but +no longer compelled Spoerri to do so. By midday he was already +intoxicated. Spoerri, tired out by the carousal of the previous +night, watched over Mabuse devotedly. He tried many simple devices to +persuade him to stop drinking, but Mabuse soon saw through them, and +ordered full bottles to be brought and no tricks to be played. Alcohol +was a necessity to him; it inflamed his wild and evil spirit, and in +the phantasies of intoxication he found all his great ideas. There +was no thwarting of his will from without, and when drunk he felt +himself enclosed as in a castle of the _Arabian Nights_. Nobody could +understand that to him alcohol was the bringer of magic, the stream +which intensified life and gave him creative power. He bathed in it +as he might do in the love of some fair woman, yielding himself to it +wholly, bridging chasms, attempting new feats, working unrestrainedly +and overcoming all obstacles.... He became a law unto himself, a world +of which he was the sun. + +“Spoerri, how do you like Europe?” he stuttered. + +“Oh, very much, Doctor,” answered Spoerri unreflectingly. + +Then Mabuse broke out vehemently, “You shall _not_ go to Citopomar, to +my Empire! Europe is a filthy, lousy country, fit for none but grubs +and earthworms. It is the home of parasites, of all creepy, crawly +creatures, but when I am in Citopomar--CITOPOMAR ... Spoerri, I shan’t +take you with me. I am going to sleep now, and will see you later.” + +He staggered out, and lying in his bedroom on his bed, fully dressed, +he felt for a few moments as if he were himself the universe, beyond +and above all bounds and limits, the power of his will surging over him +as a stream of molten lava, bearing him with it towards the day when, +in his distant kingdom, his power would be supreme over man and beast, +and all Nature be subjugated to his impulses. + +In the evening, when the twilight was descending, they drove to +Constance. Mabuse was sober, silent and morose. His imagination was +already busy and his nerves reacting to his stern resolves, as he +thought of the crowds of young men in the town, which seemed but a +mere speck on his horizon--men who had been working for him since the +Armistice. From this very town he himself had made a new start when +the war had driven him from his own vast plantations in the Solomon +Isles back into the European vortex, and he could find nothing better +to do than work for medical examinations and exchange his career in the +Pacific for that of a doctor in a town of Southern Germany. + + + + +VI + + +Wenk was awakened by a feeling of chilliness, which set him shivering. +He pulled his cloak round him, under the impression that the coverlet +had slipped off his bed, but he soon became aware of his error. He +sat up, feeling giddy and at first unable to recall anything. He came +slowly to himself and then he perceived where he was and saw the castle +buildings gleaming through the darkness. + +He rose hastily and moved away, but he was still dazed, and had to jump +about to get any warmth into his body. What could the time be? He felt +for his watch, but it was not there, and then he went hastily through +his pockets. His purse was missing; so, too, were his pocket-book and +his official notebook. He had fallen into the hands of thieves. The +strange thing was how it could have happened that he had escaped with +his life? + +Then sudden dread seized upon him. He held his head in his hands, +setting his jaws firmly, striving to subdue his feeling of despair. +His notebook was missing, and in this were to be found addresses, +reports, information, data, plans of all kinds.... The very first thing +he recalled about it was the opening page, on which the Hull affair +was fully set forth.... Wenk now hurried straight forward. If only he +could recover his notebook! He rushed on till he was out of breath, +then stopped and asked himself, “What shall I do? Go to the nearest +railway-station? But what is the time? It may be one o’clock, it may +be five. How am I to tell? And when would the first train start? It +might mean waiting in front of a closed railway-station for four, even +five hours!” Then he reflected that if he were to wake anybody in the +castle he would have to submit to questioning. No; that would do no +good. Should he make a fuss about it? It was clear that the chauffeur +had acted in obedience to the blond stranger’s orders. Had the latter +really penetrated his disguise and laid his plans so cautiously and +cleverly beforehand, or was it the usual thing that anyone who appeared +in any way suspicious should at once be put to the test in this way? +Could it be merely theft, and the book have been taken from him by +accident? He realized that when he seated himself on the cushions he +must have set the gas-current free, for there was no gas in the car +when he got in. That had been arranged, then. No, it wasn’t that way +either. It was something both simpler and safer. The driver could open +the gas valve from his seat. Of course that was the way of it. + +Thinking thus, Wenk reached the highroad, only half-conscious of his +resolve to proceed to Munich on foot. He went as fast as he could, but +every now and then he had to stop and wait till a feeling of giddiness +had passed. That must be the effect of the gas. What sort of gas could +it be that operated so rapidly and yet did so little harm? His foes +might just as easily have used a deadly gas, then they would have got +rid of him altogether. Why did they use a stupefying gas merely? Was it +meant for a warning to him? + +Now, at any rate, his notebook was in their hands, and perhaps they +wanted nothing more of him than that. It was but an attack on his +little notebook. Whose names were to be found there? Karstens’, for one +... and an account of all the occurrences in the gaming-houses with +the sandy-bearded man and the old Professor, and in the Palace Hotel +likewise. All the places where gambling was carried on were noted there +too. It was clearly only his notebook that they wanted, and that they +had succeeded in getting, but the book he had lost had meant a good +deal to him. + +He went faster and faster by the sleeping houses, past the peaceful +suburbs and into the quiet approaches of the town. The byways, in +which traces of snow still lay, seemed like dragons creeping through +the night, bent on spying in the ghostly light on those who went by, +and Wenk shuddered at the thought. But when a tram-car drew near he +felt more at ease. He soon recognized where he was and hastened to his +own chambers. He was thoroughly exhausted when he reached home, threw +himself fully dressed upon his bed and became unconscious once more, +not awakening until the evening. + +The first idea which occurred to him then was that henceforth his life +was at stake. He accepted it calmly, for since he was combating evil, +it was natural that it should be so. The conflict would be played out +on the borderland between existence and annihilation, and for one +moment he wondered whether it were worth while to go on. But only for +a moment. He immediately told himself that there could be no question +of hesitation here. Such men are like beasts escaped from a menagerie, +and it was his task, his duty, the justification for his existence, to +help to make them powerless for evil. There must be no fear of men, no +fear of the body any more than he had had of the soul, since his mind +had once succeeded in grasping the crisis through which his country was +passing. Since he too had been a witness of its genesis, he must help +to overcome its effects. + +Yet one more thought. Was he a match for his opponent? Must he not +fortify himself if he were henceforward to pit his life and strength in +such a struggle? His adversary seemed to have the advantage of him, for +he worked in the dark. Were his own hands strong enough to seize and +hold the evil powers advancing upon him and to crush them? Had he the +strength to fight the age, for his opponent was more than a cheat, a +criminal--he was the whole spirit of the age, a spirit torn through the +catastrophe of the war from the hellish depths where it was created, to +fall upon the world and the homes of men. He realized that against such +an opponent he must spread his nets more widely if he hoped to ensnare +him. He must have an organization equal to the criminal’s own. He must +not, as hitherto, consider it sufficient to rely on his confederates, +those who were entirely of one mind with himself. He must seek his +helpers in the enemy’s camp. + +At once he thought of the lady whose strange and questionable escape he +had assisted. He drove quickly to Schramm’s. Yes, there she was, but, +as usual, a spectator merely. He sat down beside her. + +“You are not playing, sir?” said she. + +“No, your example has made watching more interesting than playing to +me.” + +“Watching,” laughed the lady lightly, “when carried on by a high legal +official is not good ... for the players!” + +Wenk had a slight suspicion that this was said with a double meaning, +but whether mockingly or warningly he could not decide; in any case, it +was said to serve the purpose of some other, who possibly was sitting +there at play. Perhaps they worked secretly in partnership. + +He observed her closely, but she sat quietly idle. Her bright eyes +roved in all directions. He said to her, feeling his way: + +“You have yourself seen a high legal official caught in the toils of +the gaming-devil. His jurisdiction is troublesome to the other player!” + +He said “the _other_,” and waited to see whether she would start, or +twitch nervously, or give the player some sign or other. But she did +none of these things, merely remained still and accepted his words with +a friendly smile. + +“She is a beautiful woman,” he thought, “and there is some secret +reserve strength in her. Men play for money, but it would be more +worthy of their manhood to play for such a woman as this.” + +After a few moments she leaned towards him, saying lightly and with a +playful impressiveness: + +“I was present when Basch lost so heavily!” + +“I know you were,” said Wenk, astonished and inquiringly. + +“And you were playing then, too.” + +“Yes, I was playing. I have just confessed it!” + +“Ah, but I mean you were really playing _then_! The first evening, when +you came with Hull, you took part in the game, but you were not really +playing. And the evening when the old Professor was there--well, I +don’t quite know, there was some sort of atmospheric disturbance ... +wasn’t there now?” she said, turning to him with a melting and wholly +feminine gesture of friendliness. + +Wenk was taken aback. He replied: + +“That evening when the old Professor was there? What old Professor?” + +“The evening you came as a country cousin,” she answered roguishly. + +At last Wenk comprehended that she had recognized him, and his face +showed his disappointment, but she begged him not to mind her having +found him out. + +“You were well disguised,” she said, “but I could not believe that +here in Munich there would be two such quaint little monkeys on a +cherry-tree, conjured so cleverly by a Chinese jewel-cutter out of an +amethyst. When I first saw the ring, flanked on each side by stupid +diamonds on stupid fingers, I noticed it with pleasure.” + +Wenk looked at her, awaiting something more. Who could she be? + +“At any rate, it struck me as curious that there could be two men, +even in such circles as ours”--here she glanced round the table--“who +had some amount of taste....” + +“Your sarcasm,” said Wenk, entering into her vein, “does not require +either Yes or No, for the fact that you noticed my ring and so +correctly guessed its origin proves that you belong to a very different +circle from the one you find yourself in here.” + +“Oh, I was a stewardess on a steamer bound for Asiatic ports, but the +war has taken both our ships and our calling from us!” + +“May I then hazard the suggestion that you have withdrawn from your +former calling at some advantage to yourself?” + +“Oh, I am not stupid!” she smiled back. + +“There is nothing which it is more unnecessary to assure me of, +Countess.” + +There was a momentary flutter in the beautiful woman’s eye, and an +imperceptible something within her seemed to come to a standstill. Had +he known who she was and wanted to play with her a little, and would he +now blazon abroad the fact that she frequented such places secretly? + +Wenk laughed aloud. + +“Or can it be that the coroneted handkerchief comes from the trunk of +some countess travelling to Asiatic ports, as Sherlock Holmes would +argue? No, dear lady, we are quits. We shall both comport ourselves +more circumspectly in future when we are among our fellow-mortals. I +shall put a stupid diamond on my finger, and you will use a monogram +without a coronet on your handkerchiefs, Countess....” + +“Hush!” she said, in agitation. + +“But even such precautions would serve no turn!” + +“I do not understand you.” + +“You force me to pay you compliments. I am seeking vainly for a +suitable way of expressing myself so that I may convey to you my +conviction that the ‘countess’ in you cannot anyhow be suppressed.” + +“He will be asking me to sup with him directly,” she said to herself. +“He evidently wants to start a romance,” and the idea amused her. From +sheer exuberance of energy she had come hither, seeking nothing in her +masquerade but relief from boredom, and lo! she had landed a prize like +this! + +“At any rate, I need not have taken a circuitous route to Schramm’s!” +she said laughingly. + +At the gaming-table nothing sensational was going on. She decided to +feint with him, and said sarcastically: + +“You try to disguise your compliments as well as you do yourself, Herr +von Wenk. I am obliged to accept them, since they take me unawares.” + +“I merely mean,” persisted Wenk, “that the removal of the coronet from +your monogram cannot remove the stamp of nobility from your brow.” + +“I hope you are still masquerading!” + +“As an enraptured reader of sentimental romances, you mean? In +any case, dear lady.... But is this quite the place to carry on a +conversation which aims at a more serious turn?” + +She answered, looking him up and down haughtily and deliberately: +“Does that mean that you are inviting me to sup with you?” + +“I would certainly not venture to do that,” said Wenk hastily, +recognizing her meaning. He saw that she suspected him of desiring to +establish an intrigue, and that he would begin it in the ordinary way +of a champagne supper. “Now,” said he to himself, “if I am to win her +over, I must act in such a way as not to deceive her and yet not fulfil +her expectations, and since she thinks she has guessed me aright, I +must not allow her a feeling of superiority over me. I do not want her +to think me a blockhead. The coronet on the handkerchief seems genuine +enough, and she does not come here for money, for she never plays. +Therefore someone present, or an adventure of some sort, must account +for her being here, and if I am to win her to my side I must prove +myself stronger than the unknown attraction here,” he argued. + +“What have you to offer me?” she asked in a frivolous tone; but Wenk +seemed to find something real behind the thoughtless manner, and he +answered intuitively, fearing defeat as soon as the words had left his +lips: + +“I can offer you a great adventure, a really great adventure!” + +“With you?” she rejoined, equally without pausing for reflection. “As a +lover or as an agent of the State?” + +“With me--as a detective!” + +“_Can_ you?” she asked disdainfully. + +“Shall I give you proofs? Last night I was decoyed into a car and +left in the freezing cold lying on a bench in the Schleissheim Park, +stupefied by gas. To-day, but twenty-four hours later, I am aware that +the man who did this, or ordered it to be done, is the same whom you +saw playing recently as the old Professor, and that this same learned +old fellow is also the sandy-bearded man to whom you saw Basch lose his +money here.” + +“Is that true?” she asked in a serious tone. + +“Absolutely.” + +“The man ... with the reddish beard ... who ... sat ... there?” + +“The man who sat opposite Basch like a beast of prey!” + +“And what am I ... what have I to do with it?” + +“To help me find this man, from whom others must be rescued.” + +“I can’t help admiring him!” + +“I do not minimize his powers, but there are powers which are evil in +their influence.” + +“And yet more really human and greater than those that are called +good!” she cried; and her bosom, slender and youthful as a girl’s, +swelled as she confronted Wenk. + +“Ah, now I understand you, dear lady. Listen. Not more really human +or greater, for power is power. One display of it cannot be measured +by another; it is only its essence we can judge. Everything is human, +the good as well as the bad. Evil forces only reap their advantage +through the destruction of good ones, and this advantage is for the +destroyer alone. The forces of good benefit all without yielding their +possessor that gross material gain which he who practises evil strives +to attain. Which is the nobler? That is what you must ask yourself, +and if there is an exuberance of energy in your temperament which you +cannot make use of in the class of society to which you belong, and yet +do not desire to keep inactive.... However, these people are beginning +to notice our talk. I expect the blond has his spies everywhere. Allow +me to take leave of you and request an opportunity of continuing this +conversation.” + +“Come and see me to-morrow; come at tea-time please. Ask for Countess +Told, at Tutzing.” + +She gave him her hand. Wenk, to whom her name supplied the clue to that +mysterious flight when Count Told had entered the room, kissed her +slender fingers, yielding himself momentarily to her charm and beauty, +and toying with the foolish notion of abandoning his chase of criminals +and yielding to the pursuit of this woman. With these thoughts in his +mind, he said farewell. + +Left to herself, the Countess reflected: “We women have no imagination. +I was looking for an adventure among these gamblers absorbed in their +play, and when it presented itself I imagined it was but an intrigue. +But _this_ is a man, indeed! He devotes his life to his task, and no +man can give more than his life, and there is nothing greater or more +beautiful than life. If only I had the chance of doing likewise!” She +resolved to follow Wenk’s leading and do all that she could to help him. + + * * * * * + +Among his letters next morning Wenk noticed a small registered parcel. +He opened it, to find his watch and his purse with the money intact. +The notebook alone was missing, and on a card these words were typed: +“I am no ghoul. The things my subordinate took from you in error are +returned herewith. I am keeping the notebook because its contents +concern me.--BALLING.” + +Wenk was scarcely surprised. This man had thousands at stake; what were +a few beggarly hundreds and a gold watch to him? He did not need this +to convince him that it was really himself, and more particularly his +notebook, that was concerned. He put away both watch and purse and let +his thoughts linger on the alluring Countess. + +In the afternoon he was received at her house, a mansion sumptuously +arranged, but in a style that offended Wenk, for since yesterday his +ideas of the Countess had made considerable advance, and it would have +been pleasant to find himself more in sympathy with her tastes than +this home of hers evidenced. + +In the very entrance-hall the walls had been painted all over in Cubist +forms and conventional designs tortured into weird shapes in endless +succession, with splashes of colour here and there, as if to create an +impression of the ardent temperament of the designer. “You are cold and +passionless,” said he to himself; “of so calculating and cold a nature +that if one among you disappears, the others have not enough red blood +in their veins to notice his absence?” + +The butler, the dark severity of whose livery was lightened by small +silver buttons and blue lappets, took his hat and coat from him and +announced him to the Countess, who was sitting at the tea-table. + +“We shall not be alone long,” she said; “my husband will be home at +five o’clock.” + +But the decorations of the house had made Wenk feel unsympathetic, and +before he answered he cast a hasty glance at the walls of the room. The +Countess noticed it. + +“That is all my husband’s doing,” she said. “To me it appears simply +hideous. What are you to make out of it, if one paints a peasant, +indicates some freshly painted barns, and then tells the beholder that +it is a symphony of Beethoven’s? However, every one to his taste--or +are you perhaps a ‘Futurist’ also?” + +“I cannot say that,” said Wenk, “but you seem to imply that they are +the only moderns. Yet all men in secret speak the same language. Our +freedom to express ourselves comes only from individuality!” + +“You want to be free?” said the lady. “Are you not your own salvation? +Does not your calling, your expenditure of energy, give you your inner +freedom? There is no salvation from without!” + +“That is quite true,” said Wenk simply; and the womanly image which had +haunted him since yesterday, and which seemed to be lost on entering +this house, once more returned to his mind. “It is really what we were +talking of yesterday, this balance of the forces of good and evil, and +I wanted to talk to you about that again to-day.” + +“I understood you aright,” answered the Countess. “I will confess to +you that at first I thought you were on the search for an intrigue, and +the idea amused me considerably, for God knows I seek something very +different in the gaming-houses.” + +“You will find what you are seeking in my work, Countess,” rejoined +Wenk quickly. + +Suddenly the butler, in his black livery, with its blue lappets +and silver buttons, appeared noiselessly, and bent down whispering +something to his mistress. + +“My husband!” said the Countess to Wenk, fixing a steady and lingering +glance on him, and as the Count came forward she introduced the two men. + +Count Told was an extremely thin man, and gave an impression of +excessive sprightliness. He was surprisingly young and very fashionably +dressed. He gesticulated a good deal, and the movement of his hands +gave prominence to a ring he wore, set with an unusual gem, such as +Wenk had never before seen. + +It might have been a flame topaz, with streaks of blood-red across +it, trailing off into milky whiteness at the edges and emphasizing +the clear honey colour of the transparent stone. In the middle of it, +just where its lightning rays were most dazzling, was a tiny pearl, +an islet, hardly larger than a freckle, but of a blue that put the +sapphire into the shade, and.... + +Thus Wenk was thinking to himself, unable to keep his eyes from the +jewel. + +“It is a trifle too big for my hand,” said the Count, answering his +visitor’s unspoken thoughts, “but the stone is so ... how shall I +describe its originality? Well, I can only say that it is like a +recital by Endivian, whom you doubtless know, and it was he who gave +it to me. He brought it back from Penderappimur.” + +“Is he the fashionable jeweller nowadays?” asked Wenk, who seemed +somewhat at sea. + +“Herr von Wenk,” said the Countess gravely, “Endivian is the +fashionable young Goethe of this season.” Then she laughed. “No! +Endivian the poet received the jewel at the Court of Artimerxes II, +instead of the goblet, from the poem of his spiritual father ... +you know it, ‘Give me no golden chain’ ... and when he returned, he +announced in Germany, much as the Pope announces the Golden Rose, that +his greatest admirer should have it. The choice fell upon my husband. +It would have been better if he had given it me.” + +“Why don’t you enthuse about him as I do?” asked the Count, with a +pleasant smile, looking at her very tenderly as he spoke. + +“Peter Resch dedicated his rubbish to him, and that was enough for me,” +was the Countess’s laughing retort. + +“Pooh, Peter Resch, indeed!” said the Count. “He is one of the +Impressionists who has arrived. By the way, dearest, I have got +something new.” + +“From the Jennifer gallery?” + +“Can one get a real picture anywhere else? There is nothing left.... +And one has a clear and incontestable and direct impression. If the +artistic temperament would only renounce colour ... it would be the +beginning of really abstract thought, of the detachment from everything +which needs the help of another consciousness to interpret its vision.” + +The Countess replied, with apparent earnestness: “Thank Heaven, we do +get a little further. If in the realm of music, too, genius had any +prospect of renouncing the crash of sound when it desires to express +itself, the world would soon be attaining its aim.” + +The Count went on enthusiastically: “A sublime atmosphere of space ... +in two blues ... which project into the cosmogony and play upon each +other between storm and lightning.... + +“Whereupon the Almighty leaves His seat, dear Herr von Wenk, saying, +‘My creation has surpassed Me; I take My leave!’” + +The conversation continued in this tone for awhile, and an hour later +Wenk took his leave. He felt depressed as he drove home, but he had +hardly sat down to dinner when a note was brought him, and he read: + + DEAR HERR VON WENK, + + I am sorry that our meeting to-day fell out differently from the one + we had planned. That is not why I am writing to you, however, for + we can continue our conversation in another place and at another + time. But you may have left our house under the impression that my + husband was “nothing but a fool,” and in his wife’s eyes too, and + that would have been my fault, so I want to entreat you not to allow + yourself to take up a depreciatory attitude. It is true that the + Count buys Futurist pictures, but that must be understood more or + less symbolically. I have always found that the more “foolish” a man + appeared at one’s first encounter with him, the more approachable he + became when one met him in his more serious moments. + + Au revoir ... but when, and where? + + Yours sincerely, + LUCY TOLD. + +“So Lucy is her name? And indeed she is rightly called Light. If she +were _my_ light of life!... Oh, what a fool I am,” said he, as he felt +an unaccustomed warmth steal over him--a warmth for which he always +yearned.... Then he stood up, shaking off these delicious tremors, and +saying sternly to himself, “This is a pretty way to reach a criminal +... through falling in love with a beautiful woman.” + +The telephone rang: “Hull speaking!” + +Hull told him that a new gaming-house had been opened, and he really +must visit it. The saloon was not only arranged to accommodate a large +number of people, at least a hundred, but it had certain mechanical +contrivances which could turn it into a music-hall if the police were +to appear. He did not know how it was done, but Cara had written to him +about it and she was always _au courant_ of any new sensation of this +kind. They were going there, and taking Karstens with them, but Hull +did not know the address of this place, and they would trust to Cara’s +guidance. Of course, she knew nothing about his writing to Wenk. + +A rendezvous was arranged, and at ten o’clock Wenk drove to the Café +Bastin, whence they were to set out. + + + + +VII + + +The house they entered lay on the border of the inner city, in one of +the mean, sordid streets leading to Schwabing. Its outward appearance, +like its neighbours’, showed an unimposing façade. It was one of those +shops having lodgings above, and the sliding shutters over the shop +were drawn to the ground. It was too dark to read the name, but Wenk +noticed the number, that of his birth-year--’76. + +They entered a dirty stairway in which hung a dusty globe, which gave +an indifferent light to the changing population who inhabited such +houses as these, and then ascended two flights of stairs. A heavy door +opened before them, and in a corridor at the side a light shone out +over the miserable staircase. The corridor ran alongside the staircase; +it was completely empty: a cheap and shabby black and white drugget +ran throughout its length, and its walls were covered with faded +paper-hangings. + +“This is lively,” said Cara, “but just wait a moment!” + +Then a small door opened from the corridor and a light streamed forth +into the gloomy darkness. They looked upon a swelter of luxury. +There was a little _foyer_ with cushions and curtains, cloakroom +accommodation, little restaurant tables, etc. There was the odour of +prepared foods and the popping of champagne corks. People they did not +know were sitting there. The visitors laid aside hats and coats and +went through into the restaurant. + +Yes, there things looked different. On entry, the place recalled the +promenade of a well-known Théâtre de Variétés in Paris. Through little +peep-holes or from the boxes one could see a smooth surface gleaming +with light. This was the gaming-table, and it was of immense size. In +the middle there was a circular opening in which was placed a large +revolving chair. It was the seat for the croupier. Around the table the +places for the players were arranged like boxes. Every box--there were +some single ones, some for two and some for four persons--lay shut off +from the rest and in darkness, and all were furnished with comfortable +seats. People could be entirely separated from each other by a curtain, +and a grating, like those of the Parisian theatres, could be drawn at +will. The players might gamble there as securely as if masked, and, +without being recognized or even seen, could indulge their passion for +the tables. + +Two miniature rails led from each seat to the croupier, and upon these +stood a little truck. This was to carry the stakes down and later bring +the winnings back. The sum was made known by sliding numbers displayed +on a board. The pressure of a button sent each vehicle to its destined +spot. + +On the dome above the table, in the circle formed by the boxes, were +the _petits chevaux_ in varied colours. The little brass horses had +been carved by a Cubist, and painted in their various colours with +highly glazed enamel. They were set in motion by a crank turned by +the croupier. In the middle, beneath the horses, there hung a little +searchlight which, lighted from below, reflected light upon the dome, +and in this light they ran with the dome as a background. This was +painted in the colours of the spectrum arranged alternately, so that +there was always a dark horse against a light colour and a light one +against a dark colour, followed by their shadows. This gave the effect +of promiscuity which was intensified the faster they ran. The goal was +formed by a thin strip of tiny electric lights let into the dome, and +every box had an arrangement of mirrors by which its occupants could +clearly recognize the winner. + +Wenk and his companions took their places in a box for four, which +seemed to have been reserved for them. Cara and Karstens sat in front, +the two other men behind. + +When the boxes were all filled, the croupier gathered his elegant +evening dress about him, and slowly began to revolve in his seat, as if +on a mechanical rotating disk, while he delivered the following oration: + +“Ladies and gentlemen, this is the ‘Go-ahead’ Institute. The ‘Go-ahead’ +has in itself the roots of vigour and success. We live in times of +change, and our undertaking is designed to suit all comers. Here you +can play alone, or as a pair, or in company. You can play alone, +because you can have a box for one person only, like the charming +lady of whom I can see no more than the red heron’s feathers in her +coiffure. If you think that for good luck two heads are better than +one, you can seclude yourself from your fellows like yonder elegant +cavalier and his lady; and if you choose to play in company you are +equally invisible from my point of view. In the dome, ladies and +gentlemen, you will find our game, the game of the house, I may venture +to call it, although every other game is equally at your service. There +you see the _petits chevaux_ of the ‘Go-ahead’ Institute. One of the +first artists of our day, whose work you are constantly encountering in +exhibitions and periodicals, has designed them for the ‘Go-ahead,’ and +placed them here, and we have united art with technique, the strongest +product of the age. The reflecting apparatus allows everyone from any +place whatsoever to see at once and quite distinctly whether his horse +is in at the finish. Allow me to demonstrate to you, by a mere turn of +the handle, the very artistic and effective play and counterplay which +is developing in the dome. There was once a man who had no shadow, but +that cannot be said of our _petits chevaux_. Notice, I beseech you, the +extremely artistic effect produced when substance and shadow thus unite +in a piece of work which in its resourcefulness and originality does +the greatest credit to the artist of our house....” + +He turned the crank, and horses and shadows chased each other with +kaleidoscopic effect. It formed a pretty and a fanciful picture. Slowly +the horses came to a standstill. + +“I had staked on that one,” exclaimed a woman’s voice as the +cream-coloured bay stopped beneath the goal, and in its head the eyes +gleamed forth like stars. They were formed of small electric lamps. + +The croupier said: “I will not detain you much longer from trying your +luck, dear madam. I have only now to introduce to you the epoch-making +novelty of the ‘Go-ahead’ Institute. What would you do, ladies and +gentlemen” (here he raised his voice), “if the police were suddenly to +intrude upon you and rob you of your money and your freedom on account +of your forbidden game? You need have no anxiety on that score. We have +hit upon an arrangement which might be called a _garde-police_. The +‘Go-ahead’ Institute may await the police quite calmly. They may be +surrounded and inundated by the police. With a pressure of my little +finger I can turn the whole police force of the city away from you and +let them go ahead elsewhere. Look here!” + +He raised his hand, then lowered it with affected impressiveness, +pressing his forefinger down upon the black knob near him. A moment +later the surface of the table was set in motion, and it began to sink. +It moved rapidly and noiselessly, and the speaker sank down with it. +The boxes remained stationary, but from the dome the little horses and +the coloured circles descended--came past the boxes; the dome followed, +and a few minutes later a quartette of nude twelve-year-old children +were to be seen dancing, upon a new stage, to the strains of fiddles +and harps, which began to resound from some invisible quarter. A body +of men, dressed in the uniform of the city police, trooped into the +boxes, exclaiming, “We were told they were gambling here! Where are the +gamblers?” + +Everybody in the boxes roared with laughter. The girls continued +dancing, and the uniformed police threw off their disguise and appeared +in evening dress, laughing. The floor began to move again, the girls +still dancing, one of them making a gesture to a gentleman sitting +alone, who sprang towards her, but failed to reach his vanishing +charmer. The floor once more became the ceiling, the _petits chevaux_ +reappeared, and in the centre of the gaming-table sat the croupier once +again. + +“You see, ladies and gentlemen, we do give the police something for +their pains--the nude girls! And if the case were really serious, they +would soon have a scrap of clothing on. I have to announce that there +is a change of programme every week....” He continued for some time +further in this way. + +“This is only an ordinary cinema,” said Wenk, turning to Karstens, and +whispering, “the most ordinary kind of cinema. If the police were to +come, they would discover the whole trick in ten minutes.” + +Karstens merely shrugged his shoulders. + +Wenk wondered what the aim of such an establishment could be, for it +was bound to be discovered and closed within a week’s time, and the +outlay must have been considerable. + +Hull was much struck, having nothing with which to compare what he saw +and heard there. + +“Ravishing! enchanting!” said Cara from time to time. “We live in +ingenious times, don’t we? We must come here often, mustn’t we, Eddie? +Which are you going to stake on? I am choosing the black Arab. Black +for me, please Eddie, because you are so fair!” + +Karstens cast an amused glance at Wenk. A supper of the most varied and +recherché dainties was provided. Things which seemed to have vanished +in the depreciation of the German currency were seen--_pâté de foie +gras_, fresh truffles, caviare, fieldfares.... In front of a pile of +truffles and _foie gras_, inhaling its pleasant odour, Karstens said +suddenly: + +“Our mark to-day stands at seven in Switzerland, but it is seven +centimes, and here things which we have forgotten we ever ordered are +provided for us.” + +“Here a mark is worth less than seven centimes,” said Wenk, downcast +and depressed. Whither was it all tending? His heart yearned for help +in his enterprise, and he had no appetite for dainties. + +Cara trilled a popular ditty, and Hull, in spite of the influence which +she exercised over him, and his enjoyment of unwonted dainties, began +secretly to be somewhat ashamed. He resolved to send her a parting +present on the morrow, and it should be the parure of Australian opals +she so ardently desired, which a Russian princess, anxious to get on +the stage by Cara’s help, was willing to sell. “This should end it +all,” said Hull to himself. He was disenchanted, and yet at the same +time melancholy. What would become of her? For himself, he almost +thought he would prefer the cloister to.... + +Just then he savoured a delicious mouthful of truffle, and as he +smacked his lips over it, Hull thought, “Well, there’s something to be +said for this sort of thing, after all. I should not get any more aspic +... and I’ve not broken with her yet, anyhow!...” + +Suddenly Wenk got up to go. + +“Where are you off to?” cried Cara, excited in a moment. + +Karstens turned to her at this instant, separating her from Wenk, +who left the hall undisturbed. He took his overcoat quickly from the +vestibule and was conducted downstairs. The concierge opened the door +for him, looking first through the peep-hole into the street. Then he +exclaimed in great excitement: “Sir, there is a policeman standing +there!” He opened the door, however, and Wenk went out. The policeman +saluted. Wenk saw the uniformed official smiling, and looking back, +found the concierge smiling too. The “policeman” belonged to the +“Go-ahead” Institute. If a real policeman were to enter the street, as +the concierge hastily informed the departing guest, he would see that +there was already someone on guard and move off. + +Wenk soon reached the spot where he had ordered his chauffeur to +wait. He was resolved to have this place closed, but he did not want +the affair to get into the papers, and on his drive homeward he +was considering how best to formulate the charge. If possible the +place should not be described, but the cause should be given as that +of disturbance of the peace, misleading of the public, swindling +performances, or something of that kind. He worked the matter out +fully, engaged in his conflict with the “Go-ahead” Institute, and while +still in his car, in his character of prosecuting counsel, he conducted +an indictment which through his skill and stratagem should eliminate +this plague-spot from public life without folks perceiving what it +actually was. + +Before he slept, his thoughts, without any apparent connection to +guide them, reverted to Hull, who stood suddenly revealed to him as +typical of the young men of the age. Bound by a liaison with a vulgar, +good-for-nothing girl, whose only talent was to exhibit herself on +the stage; elegantly dressed, without being elegant; spending his +restless evenings between gaming-houses, night-clubs, and the arms of +a courtesan--this was Hull’s life. Yet if he had taken the right turn +he might have put his intelligence and all his available energies into +administering an estate or pursuing a well-ordered peaceful life as an +official of some kind; he might have been the head of a happy household +and the father of legitimate children. + +Many such men there were, strong in body and mind, living merely on +their nerves, dedicating to a life of the senses powers which would +have made them successful in the walk of life for which they were +destined. Hull and his kind, feeble and enervated, represented the +spirit of the age. What would the dawn of such a midnight yield? + +Wenk went to the telephone and gave the address of the new +gaming-house. The official whose duty it was to watch over Herr Hull +was to get in touch with him at once, but do no more than keep him in +sight when he left the house. + + * * * * * + +In the middle of a deep sleep the telephone at Wenk’s bedside began +ringing. It was just two hours since he had returned home, and he was +wide awake at once. “Wenk speaking!” said he, and he felt certain in +some subconscious region of his mind, which was in tune with his last +waking thoughts, that the news awaiting him on the telephone was in +some dread, mysterious fashion concerned with Hull. + +“Wenk speaking!” he called again, and his whole body was trembling with +excitement. + +“Here, sir; the police sergeant on duty.” + +“Be quick!” said Wenk, his imagination running riot. What was there to +report? + +The voice at the other end spoke hastily: “The gentleman named Edgar +Hull, who was under police protection ... has been murdered this night. +In the open street, too, about 2 a.m. Another gentleman, name of +Karstens, has been seriously wounded. The constable who was detailed +to watch over him is also wounded, and both have been taken to the +hospital. A lady who was with these gentlemen was arrested at the order +of the wounded man. I have ordered the body to be left lying exactly as +it was found until you have seen it yourself. The Service car is on its +way to your honour. Please ring off!” + +“Ring off!” echoed Wenk’s voice agitatedly. + +He hastened to dress, for the car was already to be heard throbbing +outside. He went down the dark staircase, forgetting to turn a light +on. Then, when he perceived the car in the street, his profile revealed +the jaws drawn firmly together, in the necessity of meeting calmly the +tragic circumstances in which he was involved, and entering into every +detail of this deed of blood perpetrated in the darkness of the night, +so that he might be enabled to act to the best advantage. + +During the drive, something within him compelled him to take himself +to task. “I had no business to tremble,” he thought, “when this news +reached me. I must be prepared to face even my own death unflinchingly. +I must school myself further. I must develop all my tastes and +interests and use them in the service of my life’s goal; then only +shall I be equal to my task....” + +Hull’s body lay in the darkness. Four men in sombre clothing were +silhouetted around him, and they stepped back as their chief descended +from the car. Wenk ordered them--they were constables--to watch the +entrances to the street and allow no one to approach the scene of the +murder, which was in a gloomy street-turning behind the Wittelsbach +Palace. Not a soul was to be seen in any of the houses. + +One of the constables said that none of the public had been near the +place since the occurrence. + +It was now three o’clock in the morning. By the light of an electric +torch Wenk gazed upon the corpse. There was a gaping wound from the +neck down the back, and the body lay with its face to the earth. Thus +the police had found Hull when their colleague, blinded with pepper +and bleeding from a wound, whistled for help. The body lay motionless, +curled up like the gnarled root of a tree. The blood which had flowed +from its wounds shone like black marble under the searching light. Wenk +was convulsed with horror at the mental images he sought to overcome. +He tried to photograph the details of the scene upon his memory, +getting the exact position of the corpse. He wrote down the number of +the house, tried to ascertain whether all the doors and windows in the +neighbourhood were closed, whether any footprints could be seen, or any +objects connected with the crime found in the immediate vicinity, but +nothing was to be discovered. Its perpetrators had escaped into the +palace grounds, one of the policemen had told him, and at one bound +they had disappeared. Wenk examined the walls; there, too, there was +nothing to be learnt. + +He sent a constable to fetch a car to remove the body, and ordered that +nobody was to come into the street on any account. Those who tried to +force their way in should be arrested, but people were to be treated +with politeness, he said. He then drove to the hospital where the +wounded men were lying. + +He found Karstens unconscious, and the doctor informed him that he had +had a severe wound in the back from a narrow and apparently four-edged +dagger, and a blow from some blunt object had probably been aimed at +his head. The constable had not been so severely handled, and his were +mainly flesh-wounds. His shoulder and upper arm were bandaged, but he +could scarcely open his eyes even yet. + +He related his story thus: + +“Just before 2 a.m. the deceased, with a lady and another gentleman, +came out of the house which had been pointed out to me. In front of it +a constable was standing, and that seemed odd, for I thought to myself, +‘Why is he standing there instead of being on his beat?’ He stood there +for at least an hour; then I thought I would speak to him, but he said +roughly, ‘What do _you_ want? Go away,’ and came threateningly towards +me. I was just going to show him my number-plate when the door opened, +and although it was dark I could recognize Herr von Hull. The constable +pushed me away, and as I did not want to be noticed I moved aside, but +I saw that Herr von Hull had a lady and gentleman with him. They went +off quickly in the direction of the Ludwigstrasse, and the policeman +and I were about three houses away in the other direction. Then he +turned to the house again, saying to me, ‘Now you had better be off!’ I +didn’t bother any more about him, but followed, at some distance, the +lady and the two gentlemen. They turned out of the Türkenstrasse into +the Gabelsbergerstrasse and disappeared from my sight. I hurried after +them, but could not see them anywhere. They could not have got any +further than the Jägerstrasse. Suddenly I heard cries; they were shrill +and then stifled. The war had taught me that that was how men in fear +of death cry out. Before I could even see anybody I whistled for help, +and ran to the street as hard as I could, drawing my revolver. + +“I hadn’t gone far when I was suddenly seized from behind. My eyes +smarted terribly, and I felt a thrust in my shoulder. I wanted to pull +the trigger, but my revolver was no longer in my hand and my arm hung +quite limp. Then I thought, ‘I had better do as our major used to +advise us--fall down and lie as if I were dead.’ So I fell down and +someone sat on me, and shoved something at me, holding my mouth. There +may have been two of them; I can’t tell, for I closed my eyes. They +must have rushed at me from a doorway, and I was half insensible by +that time. What happened after that I do not distinctly remember, but I +heard footsteps running, and I was lifted up. It was another constable, +and I quickly told him what had happened and he ran on into the street. +Then a second one came running up. ‘Police!’ I shouted to him. ‘Yes,’ +he called back; ‘what is the matter?’ ‘Run round the corner, quick!’ I +told him. + +“I forced myself to rise, and then found I was not so badly wounded +after all, though I couldn’t open my eyes. They had thrown pepper at +them. I groped my way round the corner, but I could not see anything. +It was the noise that guided me to the spot. I heard someone speaking, +and a woman’s voice answering. ‘What is the matter?’ I said, and a +voice answered, ‘He said we were to take the female into custody.’ +‘Who are you?’ I asked the woman, and she answered, ‘I am an actress, +the friend of Herr Hull. What do you want with me?’ I said, ‘If the +gentleman said so, arrest her!’ She protested, and said she wanted to +speak to Dr. Wenk, the State agent, at once, but the constable said she +could do that later. Then she tried to run away, and there was a good +deal of confusion and bother, and finally the constable had to handcuff +her, she was so defiant, and I heard her call out ‘George.’ So I told +them to arrest her, and I don’t know what happened after that, for I +fainted, and when I came to again I was in the ambulance. I am badly +wounded. Will your honour please tell me the truth: am I going to die?” + +Then the doctor laughed in his face. + +“No, please, I want his honour to tell me. It’s the doctor’s job to +tell people they are not going to die.” + +“But, my good Voss, how can you imagine you are going to die? You have +some flesh-wounds and some nasty bumps, but a man like you doesn’t die +of those things!” + +“Indeed, your honour, I have done my duty!” said the injured man. His +voice began to falter; then the tension relaxed and he began to weep +quietly and unrestrainedly. “I know ... no more.... I have ... done ... +my duty!” he stammered. + +“You don’t need to tell me that,” said Wenk reassuringly. “He who +stakes his life upon it certainly does his duty, for no one can offer +anything he values more! But now, Voss, I want you to promise me +something, and shake hands upon it. You won’t tell anyone else what you +have seen or gone through this night ... and I beg the same thing of +you, doctor. A great deal depends upon it, for the public at large. I +beg you to lay this very much to heart. It is not the pursuit of one +crime, but of a generation of crime.” + +From the constable who had been first on the spot Wenk learnt that +he had seen several figures near the wall of the park, but darkness +prevented his counting their number, nor could he describe them. He +was stopped by one of the gentlemen, who tried to stand up and then +clutched hold of him, saying two or three times over, “Arrest the +woman--arrest the woman.” + +“Then at last he fell back and let me go,” went on the man. “Then I +could run a few steps and I saw those figures close to the wall going +round the park, but when I reached it, there was no one there. They +must have had accomplices on the other side of the wall. I wanted to go +after them, but I couldn’t manage it; it was far too high to climb, so +I came back to the spot.” + +“And the woman?” asked Wenk. “What about her?” + +“I had the impression....” + +“Now, Stamm, I don’t want to hear your _impressions_--I only want to +know what you saw with your eyes and heard with your ears. You will be +scrupulously exact, won’t you?” + +“Yes, indeed, your honour. When I came back, one of our men was holding +the woman fast. I said to him, ‘Arrest her; the gentleman there said +so. Arrest her at all costs! Hold her fast, don’t let her escape!’ +We were all a bit excited, and she shouted out that she wanted to +see Herr von Wenk, and no one was going to arrest _her_. She made a +good deal of resistance, sir, and finally we had to tie her hands. +There were only two of us, and we had to help the wounded and our own +colleague. We did not know in the least what had happened, for we had +only just....” + +“_We?_ Tell me only what you yourself have seen.” + +“Then I began to try and find out what had happened. There was a man +lying on the ground bathed in blood. He seemed to be dead, for he was +quite still. The other was groaning. Then a third constable came up, +and we sent him to telephone for the ambulance and make a report to the +Criminal Division and let your honour know. That was what Voss had told +us to do first of all.” + +“What was the woman doing all this time?” + +“The second of our men took her to the guard-room.” + +“Don’t go on with your story, Stamm, till I have spoken to him. What is +his name? Keep yourself in readiness to report again; do you hear? And +remember, not a word of this outside the official circle--not even to +your wife. Give me your word of honour!” + +“Yes, indeed, sir. The other man’s name is Wasserschmidt.” + +Wasserschmidt duly appeared. + +“You arrested a woman to-night who was present when the two gentlemen +were attacked,” said Wenk. “Why did you do that?” + +“I did it because constable Stamm said that one of the gentlemen, +before he became insensible, called out to him to do so, and my +colleague Voss gave me the order too.” + +At this moment the telephone rang in the bureau of the Criminal +Investigation Department, where Wenk was conducting these inquiries. + +“Who is speaking?” he asked. + +“This is the night editor’s office of the Central News Agency. We have +just been informed of a murder....” + +“One moment, please,” said Wenk angrily. “Who gave you that +information?” + +“I can tell you that without betraying any editorial secrets, for it +was given anonymously, so to speak. Our night-bell rang, and as I went +to the window I saw a man going away. When I opened it and asked what +was the matter, he called out, ‘Look in the letter-box!’ Then I went +down and found a letter in the box.” + +“Can you read me what was in the letter? The State agent for +prosecutions is speaking!” + +“Yes, certainly, sir, one moment. The letter runs: ‘Edgar Hull, +Esquire, was attacked and murdered in the Jägerstrasse in the early +hours of this morning. The criminals have escaped. It appears to have +been an act of revenge, for the murdered man frequented gambling +circles.’ That’s all there is.” + +“Does anybody in the newspaper staff know about this letter?” + +“No.” + +“Can you bring this letter to me yourself immediately? I will send a +Service car for you.” + +“But, sir, that would be a very difficult matter. I am alone here, and +I must complete the Press matter.” + +“What is your name?” + +“Grube.” + +“Well, Herr Grube, there’s no difficulty in the matter, when I tell you +very decidedly that your coming here is of the utmost importance, far +and away more important than that to-morrow morning every Tom, Dick and +Harry should be able to discuss such a piece of news while he eats his +breakfast.” + +“But my duty is ...” he began, but Wenk interrupted him. + +“Don’t take it ill that my time won’t permit of my saying any more now, +save that the police car is on its way to bring you here. The constable +is furnished with the necessary authority. Arrange your Press matter +so that the sheet can be printed without the information you have just +given me about a murder. Au revoir, Herr Grube. Ring off, please.” + +Wenk sent off the car immediately. + +“Well, now, Wasserschmidt, to continue. The lady offered resistance. +How did she do that?” + +“She ran a few paces from me towards the wall of the Wittelsbach +Palace, to which the criminals had hurried, and then called out, +‘George.’” + +“You heard that yourself?” + +“Yes, quite distinctly, and she pronounced the name ‘Georsh.’ And as +she began to run towards the wall too, I did not wait any longer, but I +tied her hands together.” + +“And what did she do then?” + +“Then she became quieter, and let us take her away. As we were going, +she said again, ‘I shall certainly be able to speak to Herr von Wenk, +shall I not?’ ‘Well, you will have to wait till after he has had his +breakfast,’ I said. ‘Perhaps I could telephone to him?’ but I said that +wasn’t very likely.” + +“And then later? Where is the lady now?” + +“Still at the guard-room. She spoke quite calmly and said, ‘You have +made a very serious mistake, my good man; but I hope to be able to +set you right with Herr Wenk, for, after all, you are only doing what +you conceive to be your duty. I was with the gentleman who has been +attacked, and the State Attorney was there too, but he went home a +little earlier, or else he would have been in it as well.’ ‘Let us wait +and see!’ was all I said to that.” + +“Did you happen to tell her _why_ you had arrested her?” + +“No, not a word.” + +“That’s right. Wait in the next room.” + +Wenk interviewed others, and finally the assistant-editor arrived. He +protested loudly against this high-handed action of the authorities, +and said that his newspaper.... + +“If it is the duty of your newspaper to serve its readers up the latest +scandal, whether it be a murder or the unlucky ending of a love-affair, +merely because it is a scandal, in as hasty and disconnected a fashion +as it was reported to you ... you would be right to protest. But you +have no right to hinder the authorities whose duty it is to deal with +infinitely more important matters so that you may satisfy fools with a +thirst for gossip.” + +“But,” stammered the editor, in an excited tone, “but you are trying to +stifle the Press. We are not living under the old system, you know. The +Republic will....” + +“I have no time to bother about what the Republic will do. Be so good +as to give me the letter you telephoned me about!” + +“I am sorry,” said the editor, with a confident and self-satisfied air. +“These are Press secrets.” + +“Pardon my saying so, editor, but you really are very foolish. I +respect any Press secrets which protect the interests of the community, +but your refusal to give me this letter only injures them. Before I +take it from you by force (an action which would lay you open to a +penalty for resisting the law), I will tell you that this letter is +the only piece of evidence we have at present of an unusually serious +crime. Perhaps then you will become more reasonable, and not entrench +yourself behind the plea of your professional duty, which, as I have +already stated, I do recognize, though I place it far below the +interests which I represent.” + +Grube felt uncertain how to act. Finally he brought out the document, +saying, “I deliver it under protest, and....” + +“Did you see anything of the man who brought it? Could you recognize +him?” + +“There was very little light on the street from my window. I could only +see that he was well dressed, and he certainly wore an opera hat. A +little while after he had disappeared from sight, I heard a car drive +off in the direction he took on leaving our office, and I imagine it +was his.” + +“Herr Grube, you will be so kind as to leave this letter in my hands. +You will be an important witness in one of the most notable criminal +prosecutions of recent years. I beg you, upon your honour, to preserve +absolute silence about this letter and everything connected with it.” + +Grube, under the spell of the horror which had seized upon him, now +became more pliable, and grew as eager about the affair as he had +previously been obdurate. He handed over the document, exclaiming, +“There it is then! I am quite at your service. That is a very different +matter!” + +“My car will take you back to your office again. Please leave word that +I am anxious to see the editor-in-chief as soon as he is able to attend +upon me.” + +The assistant-editor withdrew. + + + + +VIII + + +Wenk remained alone, inwardly cool. He had been able to suppress the +horror and dread which the crime had excited in his sensitive and +sympathetic soul. He knew the reason underlying this murder. It was +not revenge, but something far more dangerous and deadly. It was +terrorization! That was revealed to him by the letter to the news +agency, designed to give information about the murder other than the +police reports. It was the terrorizing of all who felt themselves +victims of that fair-bearded stranger who had appeared among them. How +much this gambler must have at stake, he thought, that he could thus +personally announce his crime, to give the affair the turn he wanted it +to have! How many people were in his pay that he was able to carry out +his criminal deeds in this fashion? What sort of people were they, and +what was the example such conduct would afford to those who were still +hovering undecidedly between good and evil? How many adherents might +not the announcement of this deed yet secure for him? + +Hull had met his fate because he had revealed to the authorities, in +the person of Wenk, the history of the I O U, and because the pseudo +Herr Balling desired thus to give an example of what would occur to +those who stood in his way. Possibly, even probably, the attack had +also been directed at himself, and he had only escaped because his +indignation had driven him from the place. + +Now perhaps it would be impossible, for strategical reasons, to close +down the “Go-ahead” Institute.... Like so many similar places, it might +serve as a trap. + +“And what about Cara Carozza?” he said to himself. “Shall I be able to +get her to confess for whom she was acting as a decoy? What can she +confess, and whose name would she reveal? Even if a name and possibly +an address be furnished me, do I know the man’s secrets, and what +precautions he has taken against me? No, I will not go to see this +girl. I will leave her in custody and let her wait.... Then she will +realize that there’s trouble ahead of her. She is weak and vicious; +perhaps she will give in of her own accord.” + +Finally, however, Wenk decided otherwise. He would take the exactly +opposite course. He would lull her suspicions by a friendly and +sympathetic bearing. She was crafty, but she belonged to the theatrical +world, and by his assumed friendliness and sympathy with her in the +circumstances leading to her arrest he might make her more ready to +confide in him. He therefore went at once to the guard-room, where he +found her seated in a small compartment. Wenk hastened towards her. + +“But, my dear young lady,” he exclaimed, “how came you here? What have +they been doing to you? They have just rung up to tell me what has +happened. What a good thing you thought of me!” + +“Oh, Herr Wenk, you come as an angel of light to me in my dungeon. +Let us get away from this place at once! Don’t lose an instant! I am +stifling here. I can’t breathe in these horrible surroundings.” She +hastened towards the door. + +“Ah, but now I must prepare you for a disappointment, which is +unavoidable. You see, my dear young lady, we live under the State, and +every State has supreme power. It appoints officials, each of whom +carries on his own peculiar office, and they cannot encroach upon the +domains of others. The State has appointed me one of its Attorneys, +but I am only there to prosecute offenders, not to set innocent people +free.” + +“Then what’s to happen to me?” said Cara, suddenly hardening her +attitude. + +Her tone warned Wenk, and he came at once to the point: + +“Your case does not come under my jurisdiction first of all, but +that of the court of inquiry, and you are bound to undergo an +examination there. It is troublesome, no doubt, but you must blame the +circumstances for that.” + +“And what about your part in it?” asked the girl. + +“Mine? I can do nothing but tell the examining counsel that we are old +acquaintances, and that I do not think you capable of taking any part +in such a crime.” + +“Then why did you come here? You are not the examining counsel.” + +Wenk realized then that she had seen through his ruse, and he knew, +too, that she had escaped the snare, but at the same time he was +convinced that she was guilty. + +“I came here on account of a minor circumstance in which I can help +you,” he said quickly. “I understand that you resisted the constables?” + +“What woman would allow herself to be attacked by coarse brutes of +constables without resisting?” + +“Yes, of course; it was the circumstances which were to blame for your +behaving unreflectingly and forcing them to do their duty.” + +“I am well known as an artiste. My name ought to have been enough for +them!” + +“Did you give the constables your name?” + +“Certainly I did, straight away!” + +“It is strange that they should not have told me that. They mentioned +another name that you had called out!” + +Then Wenk observed that Cara threw a hasty and searching glance, full +of hate, upon him. She looked away again at once, and drummed with her +fingers on her knee. + +“They said another name, did they? That’s curious, for my own name is +well enough known, and thought enough of. What might this other strange +name have been?” + +“The constable said it was George.” + +Her face showed no change when Wenk said that. + +“He couldn’t have heard properly, for my name, as you know, isn’t +George,” she said, with an air of indifference. + +“But a second constable says he heard you give the same name. It really +_was_ George!” + +“How strange!” said Cara, after a pause for reflection. “My husband’s +name was George. Could I, in my excitement, have called....” + +“Ah, now everything is perfectly clear. That is quite comprehensible, +but, of course, nobody knew you had been married?” + +“I _am_ married!” + +“You still are; oh, that’s something different. Shall I send word to +your husband? But perhaps you no longer hold any intercourse with him?” + +“Indeed I do! His address is 234, Eschenheimerstrasse, +Frankfurt-am-Main.... His name is George Strümpfli.” + +“This will be painful news for him. Are you not afraid that there +may be some difficulty when he hears your name connected with the +circumstance of Hull’s murder?” + +Then Cara spoke at last, falling back on her chair. “Hull murdered!...” +she exclaimed, and she sank fainting from the chair to the ground. + +For the moment Wenk was taken aback; then he decided that this +fainting-fit was assumed. He raised her on to the couch, then went away +without attending to her further. Going out, he ordered the constables +to keep a sharp eye on the lady, and not let anyone at all go into the +ante-room. They were to keep their weapons fixed. + +He drove back to the central police-station and informed the divisional +surgeon, requesting him to drive to the guard-room, and to search the +girl’s clothing without exciting suspicion. He then wrote out the +order for her arrest, and handed it over. He gave orders at the Police +Information Bureau that any journalist who came seeking for news was to +be sent to him direct. + +By this time it was daylight. Wenk had a bath and then drove to the +office of the Central News Agency, the editor-in-chief of which had +rung him up on the telephone. + +When Wenk had told him all that had occurred, he said: “The reason that +emboldened me to lay claim to some of your time, was this. If it were +an isolated murder I would, although unwillingly, let the reporting +of it proceed in the usual manner. But behind this assault we are +confronted by a gang having at their head a man of apparently enormous +and comprehensive powers. He must have secured to himself an organized +set of followers whose only aim is to guard him while he carries out +his crimes. The letter, which he himself may have handed into your +office, discloses the fact that he desires the affair to be made known +in the way that suits his ends. He means it as a warning. The victim +himself told me not long ago that he had come across him in very +peculiar circumstances, and this he knew. It is his aim to surround +his dark deeds by a wall of dread; folks are to realize that no one +who makes any attempt against _him_ can escape with his life. You can +readily see how great a danger such a man is; at a time when the war +has left folks weak and emotional on the one hand and more readily +incited to evil on the other. We cannot altogether suppress such an +occurrence as this, but I desire that it should be announced apart +from the connecting circumstances known to me, so that the imagination +may not make popular heroes out of murderers. In this I am counting +on the assistance of yourself and your colleagues. May I beg you most +earnestly not to make known _anything_ concerning the Hull affair which +has not first been seen by me? We are living in an age of mental and +spiritual epidemics, and those who would help to bring healing must be +prepared to sacrifice themselves.” + +“I will certainly act as you desire,” said the editor-in-chief. + +“At the same time,” Wenk went on, “I wouldn’t on any account allow the +impression to get about that such a course is due to more complete +knowledge of the circumstances, or the exercise of authority on the +part of the law, you understand.” + +“I quite follow you there,” said the sympathetic editor. + +“Then I am grateful to you, and can only hope for good results from our +combined efforts. Our nation is in evil case.” + +When he got home Wenk was anxious to go to bed and enjoy a few hours +of much-needed rest. It was already ten o’clock, but just then +his chauffeur, who acted as his personal attendant, brought him a +visiting-card bearing the name of Countess Told. + +“I am quite disengaged,” said Wenk immediately, and the Countess was +ushered in. + +“Is there any possibility of our being interrupted here by an anxious +wife who is not _au courant_ of the matter which is engaging our +attention?” she asked, as she gave Wenk her slender hand cordially. + +“The happiness of possessing a partner for life has never been mine!” +answered Wenk, feeling a delicious sweetness in the proximity of this +woman. And yet she stood before him as something dreamlike, connected +with a life which he seemed to have led not long before. Between this +hour and that lay the mysterious occurrences of the night, and he was +unable to conceive that these feelings of love and longing could be +actually real. + +She stood before him, and he found no word to say to her, while she +herself, insensibly influenced by the man’s force of character and +lofty aims, felt embarrassed by this silence, because it seemed to be +a confirmation of her own sensations. “Yes,” she confessed to herself, +“the feeling I have for him is ...,” but she would not utter the word +“love.” She blushed at the thought, a blush which Wenk saw. A tremor +passed through him, and he struggled with himself as he bent low over +her hand. + +Then suddenly the vision of the murdered man rose before him, and he no +longer felt bold enough to betray by word or gesture the infatuation +which possessed him. He offered the Countess a chair, and while he +fetched another for himself his imagination was fired by an idea which +afforded a solution of the conflict waging within him. This woman, whom +he loved and to whom he was evidently not wholly indifferent, should +be associated with him in his undertaking, and their common endeavour +might bring about their own harvest. Then he said to her seriously: + +“During this last night an acquaintance known to both of us, Edgar von +Hull, has been murdered. His friend Karstens is severely wounded, and +I only escaped because I had happened to leave, two hours earlier, +the locality into which we had been enticed. I believe I know the +instigator of this crime. It is once more the sandy-bearded man and +the old Professor. Its actual perpetrators have escaped, but we have +made one arrest, of a person who is also known to you. I mean Cara +Carozza, the dancer, whose liaison with Hull you are aware of. At +present I have hardly more than a profound conviction that she has had +some share in the crime, but I have thought of a way by which we might +loosen her tongue. If you, Countess, would undertake the unpleasant +enterprise of allowing yourself to be arrested, I would take care to +arrange for your being put into the same cell as Carozza. She does not +know you as Countess Told, but as a lady who frequents her own circles. +Represent your offence as a very trifling one, and say that you will +soon be set free, even if you are found guilty of taking part in an +illicit game.... Promise to help her, perhaps by flight ... and you +must previously have informed her that her situation is a very serious +one, and one never can tell what may happen to persons arrested in such +circumstances as hers.... She will then probably tell you who would be +able to arrange for her escape, and you understand the rest, Countess. +Are you willing to play the part?” + +“I will carry out your wishes,” said the Countess, without stopping an +instant for reflection, and her voice sounded eager. + +Wenk was sensibly touched by the haste, the ready zeal with which this +gracious and beautiful woman accepted his suggestion. + +“Up to now,” she said lightly, “there has never been a chance for me to +do anything really useful, to engage in a bold enterprise with life at +stake, to study life at first hand.” + +“And that is what you have been seeking in the gambling-dens?” he asked. + +“I do not rightly know. I felt at home in those places, because there +seemed to be no barriers. In my own circle I could perceive the horizon +everywhere, and I could not endure that. I feel I owe you much....” + +There was a smarting in Wenk’s eyes. He was overcome with a sensation +of longing; it took possession of him and tormented him, and he asked, +almost roughly, “And your husband?” + +She answered calmly, “In every marriage, although you cannot know it +by experience, there is something of what the heart has sought left +unfulfilled. I rob my husband of nothing, if I try to find what I am +seeking without him.” + +“I honour and esteem you,” cried Wenk, his voice trembling slightly. + +“It is nothing but the natural law,” she countered; “and now tell me +what I am to do.” + +“On a certain day, which you shall appoint, I will take you in my car +to the governor of the prison and we will arrange everything with him. +When would it suit you?” + +“Next Saturday at this time.” She rose. + +“The grey prison walls will begin to shine!” said Wenk. + +“Because of such odd proceedings,” laughed she. + +“No, Countess, your beauty will light them up,” and Wenk suddenly felt +as if he loved her with a passion which must be shining in his eyes. He +bent so low over her hand in adieu that he concealed his face from her, +and she yielded it to him in a gracious gesture that was almost like +the confession of a mutual understanding between them, then hastened +away. + +Out in the street the blood mounted to her cheeks, and half +unconsciously she murmured the word she had suppressed, “love ... +love,” while in Wenk’s room there remained a scent of her which he +eagerly inhaled. Then pressing both hands to his face, and indulging +his secret and mysterious presentiments, he whispered ardently into the +darkness that concealed his vision, “Death and love ... death and love!” + + * * * * * + +In the course of the day the report of the murder ran through the city. +It arose from the dark quarter where Hull had yielded up his useless +and trivial existence. A dark patch remained there, and the pavement +was coloured with the blood that had been shed. The thaw had made the +gutters moist and muddy, and they had sucked in the dark evidences of +the crime, till from a mere patch it became a monster, reaching from +its own narrow corner to spread throughout the town. Folks came to seek +its source, drinking in on the spot the full horrors of the deed. They +saw the monster rear its head, rush towards them and through them, +leaving disorder, abuse and dread in its wake. Like a dragon it wound +itself through the alleys to the broad Ludwigstrasse, crept through +the squares to the very heart of the city, and began to overflow all +quarters, to escape from the streets to the houses. Like an underground +drain it ran all day long, its gloomy current and dismal stench +striking terror into men’s hearts or drawing thence a force which could +but find its outlet in evil. + +Three days later a woman of the streets was murdered in the night, and +the assassin was caught the very next day. He was an “out-of-work,” one +of those relics of war-time, who had fallen into a state approaching +savagery. He confessed that he did not know what he was doing when +he pressed his fingers deep into the girl’s throat. Something seemed +to seize upon him in the dark when he came round that corner by the +Jägerstrasse, and drove him to do it. + +The town was enveloped as in a misty fog, impressionable and passionate +as the human heart, and the spring beyond it was obscured. The lights +thrown on life became glaring, its shadows of a wild and overwhelming +blackness. Men’s hearts were torn in two, and everywhere there was +internal conflict. + + + + +IX + + +At four o’clock there was a telephone call from Frankfurt. “George +Strümpfli, artist, was born in Basle in 1885, and lived at the address +indicated from January 1st to December 10th last year. He has now gone +abroad, his whereabouts being unknown. In the records he is entered as +of Swiss nationality, and he is a married man.” + +From the register of the town inhabitants Wenk learnt that Cara Carozza +was described as follows: “Maria Strümpfli, formerly Essert, known as +Cara Carozza, dancer, born in Brunn, May 1, 1892, arrived in Munich +from Copenhagen.” + +Wenk wondered how the pronunciation of “Georsh” instead of George could +have arisen, for both these people were South Germans by speech, and +“Georsh” was only heard in North Germany. + +He went again to see the dancer, who was now in a prison cell. + +“I don’t want anything to do with you,” she said in a harsh voice to +Wenk. “You say you are going to help me, and yet you put me in prison.” + +“It was not I: that is a mistake on your part. It is the examining +counsel, as I told you at once. I am only here to clear up one +difficulty in the case, and that is the name you called out. That is +the point at issue.” + +“Indeed! you seem rather concerned about the verdict.” + +“Yes, of course we are. If you were prepared to help us we might get +over the difficulty. Let me see, you said your husband’s name was Carl +... Carl Strümpfli, wasn’t it?” + +“In case you forget it again, his name is George.” + +“He is a Swiss?” + +“You have evidently been inquiring about him.” + +“Certainly,” said Wenk. “And so he is called George. Now tell me, +although you may think it a foolish question, had you any special name +for him?” + +“No.” + +“You never called him anything but....” + +“George. No, only George. When can I get away from here?” + +“Ah, that depends upon the examining counsel.” + +“Well then, he ought to be here. It is shameful that a well-known +artiste like me should....” + +“You see, unfortunately everything must take its prescribed course. +‘Without respect of individuals,’ as the legal phrase runs. I cannot +promise you any more than my own help.” + +“You are going away again? And without me?” + +“For the moment I cannot do anything else.” + +The dancer turned away. + +Wenk went to the scene of the crime. He had previously studied the +list of those living in its vicinity, and especially those in the +Finkenstrasse. He took two plain-clothes policemen with him, one of +them being the constable who had pursued the criminals as far as the +park wall. They examined the wall by daylight; it showed scratches +from the tips of shoes, and on the top was a trace of blood. Possibly +someone had been lifted up who grasped the top with his hands. In the +clear February day the light fell pitilessly on that trace of the +murdered Hull. + +Wenk entered the houses, many of which, he perceived, led at the back +to the park. He spoke to all their occupants separately. Some had heard +a noise in the night, but they did not consider that anything unusual, +and in the houses themselves, as they told Wenk, they had heard nothing. + +He examined the park on the other side of the wall. There was nothing +to be seen there beyond a trace of many footprints in one spot, +where they had apparently jumped down, for some of the impressions +were fairly deep. But this spot had been raked, and carbolic acid +thrown upon it. There was an empty tin near, which from its smell had +evidently contained carbolic. This precaution was doubtless taken in +case the police hounds should be requisitioned, and it might have been +put there beforehand, but he did not quite understand the reason, and +decided to test it by means of a hound. It took up the scent in the +Jägerstrasse, ran to the wall and jumped up on it, but when they lifted +it on the other side it went no further. It turned away in disgust +at the smell of the carbolic, ran up and down the wall and then back +again, always in the same direction, and yet always as if irresolute. +It tried to spring into the air. + +Wenk had it lifted over the wall again, but when the hound was on the +top, and the man on the other side ready to receive it, it escaped from +him and ran, barking furiously, along the top. It did not run far, but +remained in one spot, barking, with its head downwards, towards the +yard of one of the houses, trying to jump down there. Then with one +spring the hound was over, running towards the house, where it stood +still at the outer wall. This Wenk examined closely, perceiving marks +of scratches occurring at regular intervals upwards. Here undoubtedly +people had climbed up by means of a ladder, and the tracks led to a +window on the first floor. The room it belonged to was empty, and he +asked the people of the house how long it had been so. Then all the +other lodgers were astonished, for they said it was occupied. One of +them exclaimed, “But Georsh is living there!” + +Wenk’s heart gave a sudden leap. + +“Who?” he said quickly. “What was his name?” + +Again the answer was “Georsh.” + +“Did you know him?” he asked of one woman. + +“Certainly I knew Georsh!” she replied. + +“Was that his surname?” + +“I don’t know.” + +“Who used to call him that?” + +“The fellows who were always coming to see him.” + +“So his name was George?” went on Wenk, desirous of being quite +certain. + +“No, he was called Georsh,” answered one of them. + +“Has he lived here long?” + +Nobody knew exactly; some thought it was about a year, but he was +hardly ever at home. He tried to get a description of the man, but then +a curious fact came to light. Even about the colour of his hair they +could not agree. One said he was blue-eyed, another declared his eyes +were dark. He was rather tall and thin, and dressed like a sailor. +Again, he looked rather like an athlete. + +“What was he then? What was his calling?” + +“They said he was a commercial traveller.” + +It was curious that there was no mention of this Georsh as an occupant +of the house; he was not on the list given to Wenk. + +Wenk went to the Town Register Office, and with the help of the +officials he ascertained that one occupant of the house had been a +George Hinrichsen from the Elbe district. He had left the place about a +month before, and said he was going to Ravensburg, and after that the +room had been taken by a commercial traveller named Poldringer. + +It was quite clear to Wenk that Hinrichsen and Poldringer the traveller +were one and the same person. It was just a month ago that Hull +had had that memorable conversation with Wenk. And Hinrichsen and +Poldringer were the same individual as the murderer of Hull, or at +least the person who directed the murder, and it was his name that the +dancer had called out. Possibly the direction Hinrichsen had taken in +departure also agreed with this, for Constance lay near Ravensburg, +and Switzerland could be reached from there. + +Wenk telegraphed to the Constance head-office, with special reference +to the passport stations. A few hours later the police officials there +telegraphed back that a man named Poldringer had notified his arrival +there. He gave Bavaria as his native State, and this had struck the +registering official as curious, because the man used a dialect that +was unmistakably North German. On that account the police kept him +under surveillance. They ascertained that he frequented the society of +people who were suspected of smuggling goods across the Swiss frontier. +He often travelled by the steamer to Lindau. “Expect me to-day in +Constance,” telephoned Wenk finally. + +Wenk immediately prepared for a journey. He could reach Constance +before night if the little monoplane belonging to a friend of his, +which was always at his service, were ready for a flight. He telephoned +to him and ascertained that it was. + +At four o’clock he departed, and in the deepening twilight he descended +at the Petershaus aerodrome near Constance. The police described the +locality in which these profiteers and smugglers were to be found. +He disguised himself as a chauffeur and went to one of their inns to +get some supper. He addressed one man whom he thought to be of their +party, saying that he could get hold of two cars, and also some sort of +export licence, as long as it wasn’t looked at too closely, but if he +had the help of one or, better still, of two bold fellows it could be +done quite easily. There would be a profit of about ten thousand in +it, for the cars were bought in the autumn of 1918 and had been kept +hidden ever since. They were first-class cars that had belonged to two +generals. + +The other did not take long to consider. He would broach the matter +to a friend of his, and the three of them would soon pull it off. +They went together later to another tavern, which the friend often +frequented, but he did not appear. + +“What is his name?” asked Wenk. “Perhaps I know him.” + +“He is called Ball, but you may have known him under some other name. +Most of us find it convenient to have one or two different names here; +you know all about that, don’t you?” + +“Of course I do,” said Wenk. + +Then he grew suddenly pale, for just then a man entered, in whom he +thought he recognized the chauffeur who had driven him to Schleissheim +in the car filled with poison gas. Everything was at stake. Wenk’s +disguise was rather a sketchy one. Supposing this man were the Ball +they were expecting! If he came to their table and sat down, he +would probably recognize Wenk, and the whole story would come out. +He employed all his powers to regain his self-control, and tried to +disguise his features by contracting his facial muscles. He had already +taken the precaution of seating himself in a dark corner. + +But the new-comer sat down at some distance from him at a large table +where several young fellows were already sitting. He had his back +to Wenk, but the lawyer felt he must not venture any further, and +promising a rendezvous for the next evening, he hastily took his leave. + +He went to the police-station, stated where he had been, and described +the suspected man. The sergeant of police sent for a constable, who +said that according to the description the man must be Poldringer. + +“Could we be certain of that? I should like the fact established during +the night. But I beg of you to proceed cautiously in the matter, for +this man is armed at all points!” urged Wenk. + +Then he thought it would be better not to go there, said the constable. +It was but a small town, and all the police officials, even the +plain-clothes men, knew these profiteers. His sudden appearance might +give the alarm. + +“Well then, I must manage without that. Do you know where he lives?” + +“Certainly.” + +“Then take me there at once.” + +The sergeant took Wenk to a byway where stood a shabby old inn, which +was divided into many courtyards at the back. Wenk at once recognized +that it would be extremely difficult to carry through any arrest here +without a large body of police, and so many constables could not be +quickly and easily procured in a small town like this. + +Opposite the house was an iron-foundry. Here Wenk spent the next +forenoon in company with a constable who knew Poldringer, the two +concealing themselves behind a dust-begrimed window. + +When, about eleven o’clock, the man whom Wenk knew as the sandy-bearded +man’s chauffeur came out of the house, the constable nudged him, +saying, “That is Poldringer!” + +“That’s my man!” said Wenk. + +In the afternoon he had a consultation with the head of the Criminal +Investigation Department. Wenk said it was not a case of arresting one +man, but of getting rid of the whole gang, for here in Constance, as +one might say, there was but one division of the army whose general +headquarters was in Munich, and until one could lay hold of the leader +it was not worth while to secure a dozen or so of his accomplices. +Wenk advised their not making use of the announcement of a reward of +five-thousand marks for information (which had been drawn up contrary +to his wish), but rather that they should keep a close watch upon what +they now knew to be one of the haunts of the gang. That would be the +safest way of entrapping their leader, for if they seized the chauffeur +now, his master would receive emphatic warning. And this man, Wenk told +them, was undoubtedly one of the most daring criminals to be met with +in the last ten years. It was not only a money reward, but fame, that +might be looked for, and the constables all promised to do what they +could. + +In the evening Wenk met the young man who was going to help him get rid +of the cars at a big profit. His friend had left the town, he said, for +things had gone badly of late. Switzerland was overdone with German +goods, and the German authorities seemed to be regaining their control +of the Lake. They might soon be starving, he said. But _he_ knew what +to do. He wasn’t going to starve, and sooner than be driven out of the +place by hunger, he would join the Foreign Legion. Then at least he +would be safe from the German authorities. He could fill his belly in +peace, and if he were shot down it would be as a free man, whereas if +he stayed here he was bound to end in quod. + +Wenk asked what he had to do to get into the Foreign Legion. + +“Oh, that’s easier than ever it was,” answered the man. “Before the war +you had to go to Belfort, but now that’s not necessary--you can join up +here.” + +“Well, that’s a good thing to know. What’s the address of their +headquarters?” + +“Oh, you only need go to the ‘Black Bull’ and ask for Poldringer, or +else come in the evening to the tavern we went to yesterday, for he +was sitting there. He had got a lot of them at his table, and I told +him I’d think it over. If our honk-honk business comes off, I shan’t +need to, though, but we can’t get hold of that d----d Ball; he’d want +to stand in with us, but I expect he’s got something good on somewhere +else. By the way, Poldringer was asking after you last night. You must +belong to his part of the country, eh? He said he thought he knew you, +but I told him you were from Basle and wanted to get two cars across, +and he said, ‘Oh, then it can’t be the man from Munich,’ but I thought +to myself a man might have been in Munich and yet be in Basle now, eh, +mate?” + +“I’ve never been in Munich,” said Wenk; “he must have mistaken me for +someone else.” + +“Well, it’s all the same thing, anyhow! We’ll get those cars through, +eh? By the way, can you stand me a trifle of ready on the job?” + +“A fifty?” asked Wenk. + +“Oh well, if it’s not inconvenient, I’d like two fifties.” + +“One’s all I can spare at the moment,” said Wenk, pulling a fifty-mark +note out of his waistcoat-pocket. + +“You needn’t be afraid of showing your purse, even if it has a hole in +it,” remarked the man. + +“You wouldn’t buy any more with fifty out of my purse than you can with +that one!” + +“Well, all right; no offence! Where are you staying?” + +“In Barbarossa,” said Wenk, at a venture. + +“Oh, if the folks there get hold of you, you won’t get out of their +clutches, I can tell you! You go to the ‘Black Bull.’ They’ll look +after you properly there, and everything is arranged so that you can +fly off as easily as these greenbacks will. Not a trace left behind!” + +Next morning Wenk flew back to Munich. His trip had been successful, +and the journey in the pure clean air, cold though it was in the upper +regions, invigorated him. He felt as if he were gathering the threads +together in his hand and they were about to form a vast and invisible +net, and he, the fisherman, felt himself ready and able to drag it in. + + * * * * * + +An hour before Wenk took up his stand at the grimy window of the +iron-foundry opposite the “Black Bull,” the following conversation was +carried on between Constance and Munich: + +“Hulloa, Dr. Dringer speaking. Who is there?” + +“Hulloa, this is Dr. Mabuse. What is it, please?” + +“The invalid seems to be staying here. I am not quite certain yet +that it is he, but I thought I recognized him. I am anxious for +instructions.” + +“That’s very strange. He was in Munich to my certain knowledge just +about four o’clock yesterday. What time did you think you saw him, +Doctor?” + +“At half-past seven!” + +“But the express does not leave until 7 p.m. and only reaches Lindau at +11 p.m. Even if he had used a car he could not possibly have reached +Constance by half-past seven!” + +“It is possible that I may have been mistaken, but hardly likely. I +can’t at once abandon the idea that it was the lunatic we are searching +for.” + +“Well, in any case, my dear colleague, prosecute your inquiries, and if +you are convinced, use the safest means at your command.” + +“You mean the strait-waistcoat, Doctor?” + +“Certainly, for you know he is dangerous to the community. Have you any +other news? What about those neurotic patients?” + +“They are quite ready to go to the sanatorium, and they start +to-morrow.” + +“Good. That’s all, thank you. My best wishes to you, Doctor.” + +Mabuse went up and down his room in considerable excitement. How could +it be possible that the State Attorney, who was still in Munich at 4 +p.m. should have been seen in Constance at 7.30 p.m.? Might not George +be mistaken? + +He dressed himself as a messenger and repaired to the Amandastrasse, +where Wenk had his chambers. He rang his door-bell, and a servant +opened to him. + +“Can I see the State Attorney?” he asked. + +“He is not at home. Give me the letter.” + +“I was to give it to him personally.... When will he be back?” + +“I do not know.” + +“Has he gone away for long, or shall I be able to hand him the letter +this afternoon?” + +“His honour did not leave word.” + +“Ah, then I must rely on you,” said the messenger. “You will be sure to +deliver the letter, won’t you?” + +“Certainly, give it here,” and the man glanced at the address, but it +was directed to the State Attorney, Dr. Müller, and he said, “You are +making a mistake. Herr von Wenk is the barrister who lives here.” + +“Good heavens, so they’ve given me the wrong number! I always say, +‘Write it down, gentlemen.’ And so I’ve made a mistake here. Where does +the gentleman I want live?” + +“I don’t know him at all.” + +“Well, there’s nothing for it but to go back! Good morning!” + +The pseudo-messenger went off, knowing only half he wanted to know. On +the way, enlightenment came to him. “Of course,” he said to himself, +“he must have gone by aeroplane, and I can guess why....” + +For an instant a mist swam before his eyes, so acutely did he feel +this discovery of his. For the first time he measured his adversary’s +powers. No one had ever used such means against him before. George had +not yet sent off the discharged smugglers. Were they the reason of this +hasty visit to Constance? Had his--Mabuse’s--band of watchers failed +him? The matter became more difficult and dangerous every day, and +recently several agents of the Foreign Legion had been discovered and +arrested. + +“If Wenk has the whole gang imprisoned,” thought Mabuse, “one of them +might blab enough to bring the inquiry home to me, and then for the +first time I shall no longer be safe. I must have him got out of the +way.... Why did George let him go, if he had even a suspicion that it +might be the lawyer? A plague upon the soft-heartedness that allowed +him to escape us at Schleissheim! My life is not safe until he is wiped +out of existence! I shall have to prepare for flight, and I will be +off to the Swiss frontier unless I know for certain by eight o’clock +to-night whether George is arrested or not. Where did George see him? +If I only knew that, for it all depends upon that! I am consumed with +impatience, and my hatred of this destroyer of my peace is burning me +like a fever. Supposing I never reach my kingdom of Citopomar!” + +Then Mabuse went home again, carrying a parcel for himself under his +arm. He must be prepared for all eventualities. Should his dwelling +be already secretly watched by the police, he was a messenger who +had something to deliver, and there were cigars in the parcel. But +his chambers were empty, and there was nothing suspicious in the +neighbourhood. + +That evening he did not leave his house again. It was safer for him to +see from the window who was coming to him than to find, on returning +after absence, that someone had effected an entry and was watching at +the window for him. He must be ready for anything that might happen! + +He spent the evening in examining his finances. There was yet six +months’ work to be accomplished in Germany before he had the amount +he had decided would be necessary. There he knew the ground well, and +anywhere else it would take at least a year to accomplish the same +result. The languages he was conversant with necessitated his being +in countries where German and English were known. Six months! The +words throbbed in his brain, and the blood mounted to his heart. “I +shall stay!” he said aloud in his lonely room, and it seemed as if the +defiance these words awoke rang through him like the blow of the hammer +on the anvil. + +Next morning at half-past seven there was an urgent telephone call from +Constance. “Doctor Dringer speaking! I am sorry, but I fear I have +misled my esteemed colleague. There is no further trace to be seen. +Everything is in readiness for departure, and the other patients are +prepared for their journey.” + +“It was a pity, Doctor. Ring up again this evening!” + +“You swine!” Mabuse growled between his teeth at his window, looking in +the direction of Wenk’s chambers. “If it were only for this half-hour +of uncertainty, you should pay for it with your life! The first attempt +failed through a mere accident. There shall be no accident the next +time!” + +Mabuse left his house on foot, went to one of the fashionable hotels, +and asked for the general manager, Herr Hungerbühler. Yes, he was +there, and would be found in Room 115, he was told. + +When Mabuse entered the room unannounced, it was empty. “Spoerri!” he +called softly. Then a cupboard door opened and Spoerri came out. + +“Wenk seems to be in Constance. George has just telephoned to me. Look +after the matter. How is Cara getting on in prison?” + +“It would be safer if she were out of the way altogether. Dead men tell +no tales!” + +“No, I have already told you once, she is safer alive than dead,” +answered Mabuse quickly. + +“In any case, I have got one of the warders under my control.” + +“Why?” + +“To contrive her escape, if she’s to be allowed to live!” + +“Fool!” cried Mabuse angrily. “I tell you she is safer where she is. +If they were to break open her mouth with a crowbar she would never +say anything. Stop talking such d----d nonsense. She is to come out +when I leave Europe, not before! I came to tell you that I give you a +month to get rid of Wenk. I make it so long, so that it may be safely +undertaken. Make a note of the date, for he’s not to live a day longer +than that!” and Mabuse went off, without a word of farewell. + + + + +X + + +Next evening Dr. Mabuse was invited to spend the evening at the house +of Privy Councillor Wendel, who was interested in hypnotism. After +an early supper an interesting medium would appear. In her trances +memories were awakened within her which referred to her very earliest +days ... to a time when the mind was not developed enough to be able to +record or describe the physical existence of the moment. + +Mabuse had made the Privy Councillor’s acquaintance through a patient +of his, an aristocratic and wealthy dame, who had suffered from severe +neurosis and whom Mabuse had very successfully treated by hypnotic +suggestion. In the company were to be found not only professors, but +also authors, artists and the reputed friends of art, such as frequent +the society of the wealthy and fashionable nowadays. + +Mabuse’s neighbour at the supper-table was a lady whom he recognized +with astonishment and perplexity. In the gambling-dens she was known to +his accomplices by the nickname of “the dummy.” The lady was Countess +Told. + +Throughout the meal he devoted himself to her, paying her every +possible attention, and relating to her eager ears tales of strange +and wonderful experiences in hazardous places, of the chase of wild +animals or of human beings in parts of the world that are little +frequented. He spoke with a grim earnestness, a savage unrestraint, +enjoying once more in recollection the powers he had exercised in such +circumstances. He realized what it was that drove this woman to the +gambling-dens, and it seemed as if this sudden disclosure gave him a +pang, as if there opened up within him a chasm and a gulf so deep that +only a palpitating human heart could fill it. With his imagination and +with his bold recital he was pursuing such a heart, as in the jungle he +had pursued the tiger. The hope of conquest inflamed his blood; he felt +he must make it his own. + +It was this woman’s heart he wished to subjugate. He was consumed with +passionate desire as he read in her eyes how his recital fired her +blood. That was the kind of life she craved, and her nature understood +and responded to it. He painted wild scenes for her; he showed himself +struggling for conquest with body, soul and spirit pitted against +unrestrained nature, and he desired her to believe that this wild and +unrestrained nature was within her. + +She trembled at his words, and, swayed by his ardour, a longing for +support and tenderness overcame her. The recitals by which he sought to +enchain her interest aroused so forceful an impression of human power +that it seemed, in tearing herself away from them, she was actually +tearing a fragment of living, bleeding flesh when she sought out +her husband with an almost supplicating gesture, as if desirous of +protection from a force too powerful to endure. + +Mabuse saw her gesture, and the blood mounted to his forehead. He was +flushed with passionate desire, and could no longer bear to see the +glances of others rest upon her ... other strangers address her ... the +lips of other men pressed to her hand ... or the thought that any other +will should impose itself on her. His was the call of blood that should +reach her, and inflamed with passion and desire, he left the house and +drove home. + +All his thoughts were centred on her, however, and as he rapidly +increased the distance between them, and as it were tore the bleeding +flesh from his body, he called out to the image which filled the +yearning gulf within him, “Death and desire! death and desire!” + +At home he drank until all around him had dissolved in the mists of +intoxication, and he no longer saw anything but her heart, her bleeding +heart, snatched by his hand from her lovely body, held in his grasp, +enticing and inflaming his passion. + + * * * * * + +At length came the day when Countess Told should enter upon her prison +experiences. She repaired to Wenk’s chambers, and he took her to the +building, making the governor _au courant_ of the whole story. Before +being led to the cell, she asked, “How long am I to stay there?” + +“As long as you like, Countess,” replied Wenk. “It all depends upon +your skill, but of course you have but to say the word and you are +free in an instant, even if you have not achieved your object.” + +“I have plenty of time,” she answered, “but I should like to ask for +leave next Monday, so that I can keep an appointment.” + +“Most certainly, we can easily arrange that. With your permission, I +will come and fetch you. Besides, you are sure to have something to +report by then!” + +“Finally, Dr. Wenk,” said the Countess, “I want you to know that my +husband is in the secret, and you will go and see him, won’t you? +Promise me!” + +Wenk assented. A warder took possession of the Countess, and as she +went with him she smiled back at Wenk. “Good luck!” cried he, ere she +vanished along the corridor. + + * * * * * + +The Countess had left the Privy Councillor’s house in a strange +tumult of feeling. The stranger who had so impressed her had suddenly +disappeared, but his forceful personality had left its mark, and she +could not free herself of it. This mysterious and compelling power +of his effaced the image of Wenk, and the latter receded into the +background. + +When the door of the cell opened before her, it seemed as if the time +she had to spend in this narrow space, this strange, cold chamber, so +far removed from the world, would be a period of probation, a time of +testing for herself. + +She was to see the stranger again on Monday. “I am asking your +neighbour at the supper-table next Monday for another sitting with +our medium,” the old Councillor had said to her with a mischievous +smile. “He must make up for lost time, because he was called away +unexpectedly. But if he did not see the medium asleep, at any rate he +found Countess Told awake!” + +“All right! I shall be pleased to meet him again,” she had answered in +a friendly and noncommittal tone. + +The door of the cell closed behind her, and she saw a figure seated on +a stool, but it did not turn round. “Well?” it said growlingly. + +“Good morning,” said the Countess. + +The dancer turned round slowly. When she at length faced the Countess, +the latter uttered a little cry, and with well-feigned astonishment +hastened to Cara, exclaiming, “What, _you_ here, my dear! But we know +each other! What a strange coincidence!” + +She began chattering at once, as if quite oblivious of Cara’s sullen +mood. “Just imagine, they actually caught us all--at Schramm’s--the +most noted resort of them all! I can tell you there was a fine to-do, +my dear. One man sobbed, another tried to jump out of the window, and +you know they are all shut up tight! Somebody sat down and wailed, +‘Oh my wife, my four children, I am disgraced for ever!’ There was a +tremendous fluttering in the dovecot. I could not slip away in time, +and so they got me too! Tell me what is the best thing for me to do? +There’s nothing wrong in entering a gaming-house, and I have never once +played!” + +But Cara only eyed her gloomily. + +“Do say something. Is there anything the matter?” pleaded the Countess. + +“The matter is that I want you to leave me alone,” answered the other. +“Was the young gentleman with the fair sandy beard there?” + +“The one who played against Basch, you mean? No, he wasn’t there. I +have never seen him since that night.” + +“Was the old Professor there?” + +“No, I didn’t see him either.” + +“Then you needn’t tell me any more about it; it doesn’t interest me. +The whole world isn’t worth a pin. I am miserable, for I am forsaken +and betrayed. There’s no interest left in life for me. I am lost and +undone, and no one troubles any more about me than if I were a frozen +field-mouse. What dirty dogs they are!” + +Suddenly she sprang from her stool and seized the Countess by the +shoulders. “You were with the rest of us. I want to drum it into your +head,” she continued with increasing vehemence, “that there never was +anybody so treacherously betrayed as I have been. And there was no +reason for doing it, for I was an artiste, a well-known and admired +artiste, and here I am now, forsaken and betrayed! Cast aside like a +squeezed-out orange!” + +“Why did he forsake you?” asked the Countess shyly. In her own mind +she seemed but a simple child in the presence of this wild and +passionate personality. Yes, he had forsaken her, left her for ever, +she reflected, and she shuddered at the thought. And now he was dead. +At the moment she felt doubtful of the enterprise she had undertaken. +“He is dead,” she said in a low voice which vibrated. + +“Who?” cried Cara. + +“Your friend ... Hull!” answered the Countess, preparing to enter +sympathetically into the girl’s feelings, the image of Wenk growing yet +fainter in her subconscious mind. + +But the other exclaimed passionately, “What are you saying? The man I +mean is not dead; he is alive, and yet I sit here in prison. Yonder in +the town outside he stands, strong as a tower, firm as a rock, I tell +you! How can a puny thing like you know what he was? All others were +as dirt beneath his feet, and their faithlessness too small a trifle +to consider! Hull is dead, but what does _that_ matter? Who cares an +atom about _him_? But that other, the master, the lord, he lives there +in the free air, where there is light and love and life ... where he +might bear to have me lying at his feet, like a rug that only serves to +warm his toes. He is the great man, the lord, the master! He is a bear, +a lion, a royal Bengal tiger, do you hear? He does not belong to this +cold and frosty land; he comes from Bengal, from paradise, from a place +I shall never see again! And I--I--am left to linger in this dungeon!” + +Suddenly she said, quite calmly and seriously, “Tell me, do you think +there are men whose will is so strong that they can break down even +these walls when they know how passionately I desire it?” + +“There are no such men outside, but within us there are!” answered +the Countess, carried away by the vehemence of that passionate storm +of feeling which had so lately broken over her. How contemptible it +was of her, she thought, to have desired to outwit a human being. She +felt mean in her own estimation, and casting all projects and promises +to the winds, she began to glow in the presence of this strange +personality like the spark of an electric current. “Yes, they are to be +found in us!” she repeated. + +“He! he! the conqueror!” sang Cara, with a sound of passion in her +tone, and in the Countess’s heart, too, there sprang up, like a marble +image, the form of the man she had met a few evenings before. On her +heart this image was sculptured, and she allowed its impress to recur +again and again and remain there. + +“Do you love him?” she asked the dancer. + +But the other answered, as if brushing away an unconsidered trifle, “I +... love? I _adore_ him!” + +“I do not love him!” hastily asseverated the Countess, pursuing the +mental image she had conjured up. “But yet he is great, superhuman. He +is a world in himself. In the midst of this tame and quiet existence +he is as a jungle and primeval forest. It seems to me as if he must +have both the tiger and the serpent within him, as well as all that +is boldest in Nature, its gigantic trees, its wild and impenetrable +forests. Do you know, one can creep within them, never coming to an +end, and yet be in him!” + +She broke off suddenly. She dared not put into words the fancies evoked +within her. For the husband whose eccentricities she tolerated was no +more to her than a brother--nay, a father. They were bound together by +one voluptuous hour of which no human being knew or even suspected. It +was such an hour as that in which two human personalities melted into +one to create a new being that later on might emerge and begin a life +bound by invisible ties to that mysterious hour. The threads might be +torn from their place, snapped, distorted, yet they remained entwined. +No other desire now possessed her than to yield her senses once more +unrestrainedly to that consciousness of the depths of her being which +enfolded her as in a dream, and which she nevertheless continually +thrust aside. + +The two women sat close together, the Countess on the ground. +Both seemed alike to be struck down by an invisible and imperious +fist, striking at these centres of abandonment and yearning and +self-betrayal. After the hasty and intimate avowals forced from them, +the shadow of silence fell upon them. + +“Say something!” pleaded the Countess timidly. + +“Be silent, or I shall strangle you ... with my own hands!” cried the +dancer. + +The Countess shrank back, feeling herself, beside the other, to +resemble a hare in the claws of a mighty and powerful bird of prey. + +Food was pushed into the cell, but neither of the women perceived it. +It grew dark, and the dancer lay down, fully dressed, upon one of the +plank beds. The Countess imitated her and stretched herself on the +other straw pallet. The night passed by, and in the long sleepless +hours their fancies flowed into a dark and turgid stream. + +Suddenly in the gloom Cara’s voice was heard: “Are you asleep?” + +“No.” + +“Why are you here?” + +The Countess had not the courage to repeat her tissue of lies, and she +remained silent. Cara, too, kept silent for a while, then she said +suddenly: + +“You were sent here to pump me! Have I told you anything?” + +“Yes.” + +“About _him_?” + +“Yes.” + +“Did I tell you his name?” + +“No.” + +“That’s all right then, otherwise you would never leave this place +alive. But if you are lying, and I had told it you, I tell you now, +he _has_ no name. He is a thousand men, a whole nation, a part of the +universe!” + +“Just like the man I have been thinking of,” reflected the Countess, +but an instant later she did not know whether she had not spoken her +thought aloud. + +“When are you going away again?” + +“When you want me to.” + +“Then go at once, and tell everything I have told you!” + +“No,” answered the Countess resolutely. + +“Why don’t you, when that is what you came here for?” + +“Things are different now.” + +“Nothing is different,” asserted the dancer vehemently. “Everything is +as it was and will ever be. He is out there, free as the air; I am here +like a carcass rotting on the ground. Tell everything you know.” + +“I shall say nothing!” + +“Why not, you--you cursed hussy!” she shrieked. + +“Because you love him so!” + +Then the dancer grew calm again, but a few moments later she burst into +tears and sobbed wildly and unrestrainedly. + +The Countess lay still on her pallet. She felt as if a naked soul with +claws, whence the skin and tissues had been withdrawn, were clutching +at her heart and holding it within its grasp. She felt her own blood +shudder and leap up beneath the claws and mingle with that of the +other. This naked soul that clutched at her was her sister. She was +akin in blood to the criminal yonder, but neither of the women knew +that he who had thus caused their hearts to beat in unison during this +night in prison was one and the same mysterious being. + + + + +XI + + +The news Wenk received of Karstens’ state was very unsatisfactory. +Since he had, apparently, offered strong resistance to his attackers, +a second man seemed to have struck him violently on the head with a +crowbar, and the blow had resulted in concussion of the brain. At +intervals he became conscious, but for short periods only, and at +present it was impossible to say what the outcome would be. His state +was so critical, the doctor declared, that any sustained conversation +with him could not be thought of for at least two or three weeks. + +As for the dancer, about whose participation in the affair he would +have something to say, as his shout to the constables to take her into +custody proved, Wenk had for the present to content himself with any +evidence the Countess might obtain. To-day was Monday, and at four +o’clock in any case he would hear whether any explanation might be +looked for from Cara Carozza. + +He did not leave the house that day. The two main centres of his +activity could not be reached by him in person; one was the women’s +prison, the other, and far more important, was the town of Constance. +He was frequently called up by telephone from the latter place, for +this Poldringer had to be kept constantly under surveillance. + +While spending the waiting hours at home impatiently, he frequently +walked backwards and forwards to the window. On one of these occasions +he noticed a man whom he had first seen as early as eight o’clock, and +again half an hour later, and then not again for some time. The man +always happened to be passing the house rapidly, or else standing at a +turning some distance off. Could it be that he was there to spy upon +his movements? Wenk resolved to put the matter to the test. + +He ordered one of the members of the Secret Police to disguise himself +so that anyone at a hasty glance might mistake him for the State +Attorney. Then Wenk’s chauffeur brought round the car to the door where +the masquerader was waiting, and at a moment when the stranger was +again visible at a corner this man got in quickly, settled himself down +inside, and was rapidly driven away. “I shall be able to see how this +simple trick succeeds,” said Wenk to himself. + +At this moment there was an urgent call from Constance. “The man under +observation brought the young fellows in his company to the station +at 3.16 p.m. The Offenburg express is due to leave at 3.36. It is +uncertain which of the party will travel by it; some have hand luggage, +and the others none, and it is not yet ascertainable whether the +suspected man will accompany them. One of them bought seven tickets for +Offenburg, but the party consists of eight, and one among them looks +different and has never been seen here before. It is possible that he +may be the leader of the expedition, and in the service of the French. +How are we to proceed?” + +“Have three plain-clothes police ready. If the eight go by train, let +these three go too. If one or more stay behind, let one of the men be +left too, so that those remaining are not allowed out of sight. They +may be travelling by separate routes.” + +The telephone official repeated the order given. “Good. Arrange to +speak to me immediately after the departure of the express. Ring off.” + +Wenk asked to be connected with Offenburg, and in five minutes he was +able to get on to the police there. + +“Seven, or possibly eight, men are arriving by the express from +Constance. Plain-clothes men are in the same train. See that sixteen +armed police are in readiness at the station. It is probable that +the travellers will have passes to Alsace. They are forged.... When +you arrest the men, be careful to avoid observation, and the only +information to be given to the Press is that it was a case of Germans +having been enticed into the Foreign Legion; and mind you state +expressly that they will be at once set free and returned to their +homes. You will know nothing about the forged passports. In case there +is a man of the name of Poldringer or Hinrichsen among them, let him be +separated from the rest and kept in close custody.” + +Shortly after Constance telephoned again: “Seven men have left. It is +Poldringer who stayed behind; he went to the ‘Black Bull,’ and is under +observation there.” + +“Good. Thank you. Please ring up here again at seven o’clock, and +should anything important occur in the meantime, notify the Criminal +Investigation Department.” + +Then Wenk had to hurry, so that he might call for the Countess at the +prison at four o’clock. It was then half-past three, and he was alone +in the house. He telephoned for his car, and just as he was going +downstairs he heard a knock at the front door. He opened it. + +An elderly man was standing there. His figure was bent, and he had a +bushy snow-white beard, red cheeks and blue eyes. + +“Herr von Wenk?” he inquired courteously. + +“Please come in,” answered the lawyer, “but I am sorry to say that I am +just going out on urgent official business.” + +“I will not detain you a moment,” said the other. “My name is Hull, and +I am the father of the murdered man!” + +Wenk bowed, and led the way to his office. + +“Herr von Wenk, I have been told that you are conducting this inquiry. +Edgar was my only son, and I brought him up badly, for my whole time +was given to my business, and I had vast interests. My wife died when +he was but a child. I think many sons in our days have had a similar +experience.” He spoke evenly, almost harshly. “But that does not free +me from blame. Our sons were our pleasure, our business our duty. It +would have been better had it been the other way about. I cannot desire +such a life as his to be restored, for what I have heard from various +sides about the circumstances of the case is sufficient, and I do not +wish to know more, but I have allowed myself the liberty of calling +upon you for other reasons. My son used to receive an income of ten +thousand marks from me each month, and the only wish left me in this +unhappy affair is to be able to spend these ten thousand marks as if +he were still living, and add another ten thousand to them. I want the +money to be used to help men to make good, and how am I to set about +this? Can you advise me, sir?” + +Wenk answered in a hesitating tone, “I must first of all confess, Herr +von Hull, that your words have taken me aback!” + +This man’s bearing moved him deeply. Restrained force of character, +suppressed paternal grief, unutterable sympathy ... everything that +had thus unexpectedly been laid bare to him, threw him for the moment +somewhat off his balance. “Yes. I don’t know ... Herr von Hull, why did +you come to _me_ above all men?” + +“I can tell you that at once, sir. It is your task to bring the +murderers to justice, and I should like to replace with something that +is beneficial the harm that has been done by one of my house. I should +like the recollection of my son to bear good fruit. I have had nothing +of his life, but perchance his death may yield something that may +plead for me in eternity.” His voice remained firm until the last word +had been uttered. “But I must not forget that you are in a hurry,” he +continued. “Perhaps it is this same unhappy affair which prevents your +giving me any more time now?” + +“You are right,” said the lawyer. + +“Can I see you to-morrow or some other day, when we can talk quietly, +when you are free?” + +“I shall be free to-morrow, my dear sir. Come when most convenient to +you, preferably in the morning. You are not obliged to fix an exact +time, for I shall be at home all day. I thank you for your suggestion; +we shall be enabled to do a splendid piece of work together, I believe.” + +“Nay, it is I who must thank you for being willing to help me raise +a memorial to my unhappy boy that shall redeem his name among his +fellow-men.” + +They left the house together, and Wenk drove rapidly to the prison. +“The lady left here long before four o’clock,” said the Governor. + +“Indeed!” said Wenk, disappointed. “What did she leave for me?” + +“Nothing!” + +“And you yourself know nothing either? About the matter she had in +hand, did she get any results?” + +“I did not inquire.” + +“Why not?” said Wenk, annoyed by his manner. + +“I was not instructed to do so,” answered the Governor morosely. + +“It is not a question of your exact instructions, but of attempting to +track to earth one of the most dangerous bands of criminals Germany +has ever known. You don’t seem to realize that. What you and your +instructions may be counts for nothing.” + +“So much the better. Perhaps another time I may be spared such +innovations....” + +“You do not seem to feel yourself thoroughly comfortable in your +post, Governor. I will say a word for you to the Home Secretary! Good +morning.” + +“What has happened?” said Wenk to himself. “What is up?” He felt +disappointed and angry as he took his seat in the car again. + + * * * * * + +At seven o’clock that evening the Countess drove to the Privy +Councillor’s mansion. She found the same company assembled there as +on the last occasion, and this time, too, she saw as little of them. +Around her and Dr. Mabuse, her partner at the supper-table, the +conversation rose and fell, isolating them from the rest. Her neighbour +was more silent than on the previous occasion, but everything he said +was spoken with an impressive intent, directed towards a goal which was +unrecognizable. + +The Countess was divided in her own mind as to whether she should +relate her experience in the prison to him, should tell him that she +had come in contact with the soul of a woman, strong and fearless as +the figures in his own recitals; yea, even stronger, since it was a +woman, experienced in renunciation, and carrying on her conflict in +resistance and defence. + +In imagination she had entered so thoroughly into the struggle, and +her encounter with this criminal seemed to open up such unusual +circumstances, that the power of the man at her side insensibly seemed +to lessen, and this second meeting with him appeared to yield nothing +that her passionate anticipation had longed for. The man seemed to +decline before her. + +She noticed that while he uttered his imperious sentences, both at +their first meeting and on this occasion, he kept his eyes fixed on +her with a compelling look. They were grey eyes, and their glance was +a steely one. She grew somewhat frightened, and in her anxiety yearned +for some human being who could warm her breast with his sympathy and +afford her troubled spirit peace. + +She looked across at her husband. He was sitting near the medium, +engaging her in talk, and it seemed as if his words were the mere play +of his graceful fingers, on one of which the ring was flashing, as +if dominating the whole. Then the woman’s heart was overcome with a +strange sad feeling, stilling the fever in her breast--a feeling of +lofty womanly sympathy. He seemed such a child, she said to herself. +“Without me he would be defenceless. He is like a hoop rolling down the +street, its course determined by the obstacles and unevennesses in its +path.” + +With this feeling upon her, she experienced a renewed glow as she +thought of her encounter with the dancer; she was lifted out of her +everyday existence, borne onward as in a mighty rush of passion, then +again becoming cool and collected as at the contact with something +cold and forbidding. It seemed to her then that she was struggling to +reach her husband and ever as she approached him she was driven back, +encountering the inflexible and steely glance of the man beside her. + +Mabuse grew more and more silent. He ate nothing, and he took no pains +to conceal his taciturnity. On the contrary, he seemed, as it were, to +strive to impress it upon the whole company, just as a mighty African +potentate might exercise his tyranny on his patient and long-suffering +followers, and the very actions of the others served to accentuate this +attitude of adoration of a superior force. + +Count Told alone seemed to trifle with graceful gestures about the +medium, who, black-haired and deadly pale, kept her unwieldy form +pressed close to his side, seeming to have eyes for no other. Then the +Countess felt that she hated the man who sat beside her in his sullen +mood while her husband’s attitude was thus bordering on the ridiculous. +And yet it was not hate she felt, but the inward conflict between the +desire to yield herself to the domination of a self-sufficing and +stronger heart and brain and resistance to the impulse of subjugation. + +The supper-table was cleared and the company stood around talking for +a while. Mabuse had left his table-companion and sought the society of +Count Told. He engaged him in a discourse on the psychological aspect +of gambling. + +“I am a born gambler,” said the Count. “When I am losing, I remain as +cold as ice, but when I am winning my brain lights up and my phantasies +are redoubled.” + +Then Mabuse said: “Games of chance are the oldest form, the strongest +and most widespread form, in which a man who is not gifted with +artistic expression may yet feel himself an artist.” + +“That is an interesting idea,” said the Count; “pray follow it up a +little further.” + +“It is because in a game of chance every man feels that he can +force himself to a creative act. Creation, through the principle +which underlies all life, draws its force from the parallel powers +of volition and accident. By accident we must understand all that +is untried, immeasurable, strange, and impossible of expression in +itself. This is, too, the mental process of creative work, to which +nature has lent a portion of primal force, the work of the artist! +Between the poles of volition and accident this power is wielded as in +a state of trance. Goethe confessed that to be the case with himself +when he was composing his poems. In games of chance there is a like +synthesis. Accident gives the player his material--it may be trifling +and insignificant, or it may be of dominating power. The player sets +his will to work to accomplish a creation of his own from his material.” + +“You are a poet yourself, Doctor?” + +“Oh, no, I am a physician practising psychotherapy.” + +“Such people are our most modern poets. For they give our knowledge of +the unconscious, or rather the subconscious, its perceptible form, and +the subconscious world, which is now firmly established, produces our +psychic existence. We will have a game of baccarat afterwards, shall we +not?” + +“Agreed!” + +The hypnotic subject was about to begin her test. A doctor led her +forward and threw her into a hypnosis in which she would recall her +wonderful recollections. On the first evening, as Count Told informed +Mabuse in an awestruck whisper, she had related her mental experiences +during her first attempts to walk. + +While the Count was speaking he felt an unnatural warmth stealing over +the back of his head. He turned round, but there was nothing behind him +save the tapestried wall, upon which pictures of the old school, to +which he was quite indifferent, were hanging. + +The patient did not respond to the hypnotist’s suggestions. She did +indeed fall into a state of trance, but all the spectators could see +that gradually the expression of her eyes indicated that she was +returning from a far-off view, until suddenly they looked straight +ahead and were wide awake again, awake and indignant. + +“Someone is tormenting me,” she said. + +“No one is tormenting you,” said the hypnotist in a monotonous +and measured tone. “We are guiding you to the early home of your +youth--one, two, three ... you are sleeping--one, two ... you are +sleeping!” + +He passed his hand slowly and lightly over her forehead, continuing to +count, “Three ... one ... two ... where are you now?--how old are you?” + +“I am ten months and three days old.” + +“What did your mother do this morning when she took you out of the +cradle?” + +“She unwrapped me and hurt me and ... and ...” She breathed a deep +sigh, then awoke suddenly and said, “There is someone here who ought to +go away. Who is tormenting me?” + +“We can obtain no results to-day. There are some disturbing influences +which I do not recognize and therefore cannot remove,” said the +hypnotist. + +The Privy Councillor approached Mabuse. “How would it be, Doctor, if +_you_ were to make an attempt? After the tests of your power which +I have already seen, I think we can promise to get rid of these +disturbing influences,” he said. + +Mabuse declared himself willing to try, at any rate, though he could +not vouch for the result, as he was suffering from a slight chill which +affected his head. He at once took a short step towards the medium, +however, and they saw that she moved slightly in his direction as if +attracted by a magnet. Mabuse did not utter a word, but he let his +glance wander over part of her body. The girl became even paler than +before, if possible, and although she made no movement, it was easy to +see that she struggled against something invisible, that her resistance +grew quickly weaker and that her eyes fell before him. + +Then Mabuse said in a rapid and violent tone: “You are lying in +swaddling clothes. Your arms are bound fast to your side. You are six +months’ old. It is evening, and you are crying. Why are you crying?” + +And from the heavy body of this girl, sleeping with wide-open eyes, +there came a piping, fretful voice: “I have a pain in my stomach.” + +“That is only wind. You’ve had too much to drink. Who gave it you?” + +“I got it from the breast of a woman,” answered the baby voice. + +“Do you love that breast?” + +Then the girl grew deathly white, and into the childish voice there +crept a piercing and angry note, “No.” + +“What did you want to do?” + +“I wanted to bite it with my gums!” + +“Why?” + +Then the girl was seized with trembling, which passed over her whole +body, and Mabuse said, “Every minute that prolongs this endangers her +life. I must bring the experiment to an end!” + +He laid the girl down on a sofa, and with reassuring movements he +released her from sleep and bathed her face, and when she came to +herself again recommended her being put to bed. + +The conversation now turned upon Mabuse’s experiment, and everyone was +asking questions, speculating on what she would have said. + +“That was a fairy-tale,” said Told; “a fable of the preconscious +existence! Doctor, you are a genius. But what did she want to say that +made her tremble so?” + +A lady came forward with the same question on her lips, but Mabuse’s +eyes sought the Countess, and she, too, came forward to ask. Then +Mabuse answered, “She wanted to say, ‘Because I hated her so!’” + +The Countess shrank back and the others were silent, painfully +affected. Then the Countess leaned forward, saying coldly, “A baby +cannot hate!” + +“How do you know that?” asked Mabuse roughly. + +“I know it ... of myself,” she replied. + +“Then you can rejoice over yourself, for you are not only a genius +at recollection, but also an angel in disposition!” retorted Mabuse +sarcastically. + +Conversation broke the company up into little groups. Count Told alone +remained silent. There was still that unnatural warmth at the back of +his head. He looked behind him, and he felt his head; there was nothing +there. He went to a mirror, but nothing was to be seen. He sat down +again and it seemed as if he were falling asleep, yet he saw them all +and heard everything. He wanted to say something, but it seemed as if +the words were plucked from his mouth like ripened fruit ready to fall. + +After a short time had passed thus, he rose and went to the group +wherein Dr. Mabuse was standing, saying, “We were going to play +baccarat!” + +“So we were!” answered Mabuse. “Shall we be likely to find enough +players?” + +Then Told grew wide awake and eager. “It will be fine, playing baccarat +with you. Herr Wendel, will you join us, eh?” + +“I must attend to my social duties among the ladies,” answered the +Privy Councillor, “but you will soon be able to find partners!” + +Six gentlemen quickly gathered round the card-table which stood in +a part of the room leading to the conservatory. The lamp with its +enormous shade hung low over the table, leaving the rest of the room +in the half-light. In the conservatory, to which a glass door led, the +ghostly branches of foreign palms could be seen outlined against the +glass, and in the moonlight they looked like stiff forms stretching +their dark limbs heavenwards. + +They cut the cards to see who should be the first to hold the stakes. +The visitors crowded round the card-table and Countess Told stood in +the dim light, looking down upon it. Mabuse saw her smooth white skin +gleaming from the rich dark red dress she wore. His bearing was cold +and gloomy, and scarcely a word escaped his lips. The feelings that +arose within him were sternly suppressed, and his thoughts were busy +with Count Told alone. When anyone addressed him, he answered abruptly. +He seemed to pay great attention to the game, but he played by leaps +and bounds. + +Soon the gentlemen who had begun their game with modest stakes began +to imitate his example, and there was no unanimity in the value of the +stakes. Beside a stake of a mark or two there stood a fifty-mark note, +and then one for two hundred. The small stake seemed to feel ashamed; +it rapidly became twenty, and still faster it grew to a hundred, to +two hundred.... Very soon there was no player who ventured less than a +hundred marks. When they began they found time for conversation between +the end of the hand and the fresh deal, but after a time the talk grew +less, and then ceased. The onlookers, too, became silent. The contest +between the players grew more pronounced, the game feverish, and this +excitement spread to the spectators. + +The Countess noted the high stakes her husband wagered. “He has never +played before,” she thought. “What is the matter with him?” + +The Count was winning. He let his winnings accumulate. It seemed as if +he were a horse, urged and threatened onward by an eager rider. He +threw his money down. It was now his turn to hold the stakes. It seemed +to him as if the moment in which he should deal the cards and undertake +the manifold risks of gain or loss would be a supreme experience for +him, yielding rich secrets of wonderful joy. He grew excited, and his +phantasies played about the room. + +The Countess turned aside in the half-light, constrained at her +husband’s incomprehensible actions. Suddenly the full light of the +lamp fell upon her, revealing where her slender breast rose white and +stately from the enclosing circle of her gown. + +“North and south!” said Mabuse, as he contemplated her lovely figure, +“north and south, your turn is coming,” and his tone was sinister and +threatening. Then he turned his glance away, and it fell upon Count +Told’s hands as he took over the bank at this moment. He dealt the +cards out, and hesitated a moment as if perplexed at some strange +occurrence. He was relieved when he had distributed the pack. He +won considerable sums, and it was singular that the same feeling of +perplexity recurred. He won a second time, and now this seemed to +happen continually. Players and spectators alike were astonished at the +run of luck the Count’s game exhibited. + +“Look at your husband,” said someone, turning to the Countess; “he is +winning every hand.” + +They all cast a glance at the Countess and then quickly returned to +their cards. The Count dealt the cards once more. He disclosed his +cards; he had two picture cards and was about to buy another. + +“Halt!” cried a voice suddenly, like the voice of a drill sergeant, +and a hand was laid roughly on the table, reaching the white and +delicate hand of the Count, on which the jewelled ring was sparkling, +and turning it over. Then all the company saw that the Count had been +about to take a card from underneath the pack instead of the one that +lay on the top. The card was a nine. + +“Aha, a nine! _Now_ I understand your luck, you gudgeon! You are a +common cheat!” + +They all sprang up in confusion. Count Told sat still in his chair, in +a state of utter collapse. He seemed absolutely crushed, finding no +word to say. + +“Give the money here!” cried the harsh voice again. “All of it!” The +tone was threatening. + +The spectators and the players were crowding together, and a cry rang +through the obscurity. Through the hasty movements of the powerful man +who had seized the Count, one man had fallen to the ground, dragging +another down with him. The latter clutched at the tablecloth, and it +was pulled off, money and cards being strewn over the floor, people +flinging themselves upon it. Suddenly the electric lights went out, but +Dr. Mabuse, who had waited for the cry from the dark corner, rushed +to the fainting Countess, lifted her in his arms and with one spring +bore her under the palms and out into the garden under the moonlight, +through the shrubbery and to the wall leading to the street. He lifted +her over, and from the other side someone helped him with his burden. +An instant later a car was stealing swiftly down the street. + +“The northern and southern hemispheres,” he shouted aloud furiously +during the drive. “Now I hold you both!” + +The Xenienstrasse was empty. The car came to a sudden standstill. He +carried the Countess, still unconscious, into his house. + + + + +XII + + +Scarcely heeding the abuse and scorn heaped upon him by the crowd, out +of the chaos and confusion of the contemptuous glances of others and +his own feeling of perplexity, Count Told stole, as if in a dream, +towards the vestibule. He thought of his wife, but he had not the +courage to look round for or inquire about her. His car stood before +the door, and the chauffeur was about to start the engine when the +Count made a gesture of denial, saying, “Wait for the Countess!” + +He went into the town and hired the first taxi he saw to drive him +home. “What has happened to me?” was the question that he perpetually +put to himself. “What was it that overcame me? Who moved my hand?... +What is it that has happened? I know nothing about it. Can it be merely +a bad dream?” + +But it was no dream. He reached his house and had to descend. He went +down the length of the garden and into the house. The footman took his +coat, and the Count went to the room where he and his wife, whenever +they had been out together, were wont to spend a short time before +going to bed, in exchanging the experiences the evening had afforded. +He always looked forward eagerly to these moments. + +To-night he was alone there. “Where can my wife be?” he asked himself, +astonished and yet unconscious. So many tender memories clung to this +room, and he felt disappointed that in this dreadful hour she was not +by his side. It was the first painful experience of his existence. + +But all at once it became clear to him that she must have sundered +herself from him, and he realized that by that inexpressibly strange +occurrence at the gaming-table in the Wendel mansion he had covered +himself with mire. It clung fast to him, and he thought, “Lucy must +leave me. She must remain away until I have purified myself.” But how +was he to accomplish the task? + +And suddenly there came over him, like an icy blast in all its pitiless +severity, the full meaning of what he had done. He had done it, he +really had put cards at the bottom of the pack and then drawn them when +he wanted them, and with these he had won money. Yet he had not desired +to win money! What could have happened? Was there no help anywhere? +He had done something against his will. His act had thrust him out +of decent society, and to the end of his days he would be known as a +cheat. Was there no help to be found? + +“I know now,” he said to himself, “what it is I have done, but I do +not know how I came to do it, neither the why nor the wherefore. I am +growing crazy, losing my self-confidence, and I shall henceforth be +unable to feel safe, whatever I do. Horrible, monstrous thought! I am +absolutely afraid of myself. How can I ever have reached such a point? +Yonder is a sculpture by Archipenko and the picture hanging there is +one of Kokoschka’s; I am quite certain of that; but what proceeds from +my own brain, and is my own creation, of that I can never more feel +certain again. I retain my sight, hearing and feelings, but my brain is +rotting!... I shall end in a lunatic asylum! My body moves in the light +of day while my mental powers are wrapped in a dim twilight. Is there +no one that can help me?” + +He struggled with his tears, but he could not even allow himself to +weep, for he thought, “Perhaps I shall lose all consciousness of what I +am doing. If I weep, may I not possibly destroy a picture that I have +hitherto loved and worshipped, or abuse my man, or act improperly to +Lucy’s maid?” + +And suddenly, at the utterance of his wife’s name, he collapsed +entirely. “Ah, Lucy, light of my life, can _you_ not help me?” he +cried. “Will you not come? Have you no longer faith in me? Why am I +left alone?” + +He rang, and then, hastening to meet the footman, inquired for the +Countess. + +“The Countess has not yet returned,” he was told. + +“Nor telephoned? Has she not...” + +“No, my lord, but an hour ago Herr Dr. von Wenk rang up, asking if he +might have the honour of waiting on her ladyship to-morrow morning. His +telephone number has been written down.” + +“Go!” said the Count. “I will go to Dr. Wenk ... yes, to Dr. Wenk,” he +thought, and then, a prey to a thousand nameless fears, he cried aloud, +“Or else I shall hang myself! I must be able to tell some human being +what I feel....” + +He hurried to the telephone, giving the number written down. “Yes, +this is the State Attorney, Dr. Wenk!” answered a strange voice in the +distance, and Told began to tremble. But he rallied all his energy and +self-control, saying, “Can I speak to you at once?” + +He was terribly afraid that the fever of his desire might melt the +connecting wire and that he might get no answer. He breathed freely +again when he heard the words, “With pleasure! I shall expect you!” + +“Fritz!” he shouted; “get the two-seater ready,” and he drove back to +Munich. + +Wenk believed he had come on the Countess’s errand, and that something +had happened in the prison to put an end to the enterprise they had in +hand. + +“I think, Count Told, that after all it was too risky an experiment. +The Countess....” + +“No, no,” cried Told, interrupting him. “I ... I ... it is on my own +account that I’ve come here,” and then he began his story. He told, +too, what an extraordinary sensation of heat he had felt at the back +of his head, and this must have been the forerunner of misfortune. “Do +not be vexed, Dr. Wenk, that I, a stranger, should come to you thus, +but I should have had to put an end to myself if I had not been able to +confide in someone to-night. May I go on? Well, these powerful rays, +that were like red-hot iron at the back of my head, changed gradually +to a feeling of well-being throughout my whole body. They seemed to +bathe me in pleasant warmth, and I had a feeling that I was somehow +saved from something that lay before me, and in this very moment of +relief ... it happened! In the first half-hour afterwards I denied +that it could have done, but when I reached home I realized that the +dreadful story was true, and this thing had really happened. There is +no getting away from it, either for others or for myself.” + +Wenk at once recalled his experience with the old Professor. He was +startled. Could it be possible that here too ... and he thought of the +Countess and of Cara Carozza. He asked Told, “Have you any suspicion at +all?” + +The Count did not understand the question. + +“Any suspicion? What do you mean? That I have been like this before? +Ill in this way? No, never!” + +“No, a suspicion of any special person who was there?” + +“The idea never occurred to me. I can’t understand how anybody else +could.... No ... I don’t suspect anyone!” + +“Was there nobody in the company who did not seem to belong there, who +was not quite like the other guests?” + +“It was a company of the Privy Councillor’s intimate friends. No, there +was nobody!” + +Wenk rejected the idea. Besides, how could there be any connection +between the criminal he was seeking and the Count’s act of cheating? +It was apparently a momentary mental aberration, a loss of will-power. +A subconscious process in a strange and elusive personality which +bordered upon morbidity, which thus strove to register a mental +impression upon its fellow-players. The Count ought to consult a +psychiatrist. It was extraordinary that he should appeal to him, a +criminal prosecutor, but he did not put any question to him on this +head. + +Told became silent, and the lawyer respected his mood. Then suddenly +he seemed to pull himself together and said, “I realize that I am +keeping you from your night’s rest; I beg you not to be vexed with +me. In misfortune it seems as if the mind sinks into a gulf, and the +consciousness grasps at the nearest support. You had rung up, and there +was some connection between you and ... my house, and so....” He broke +off. “But tell me, am I really saying what I want to, or am I talking +nonsense? You see, that is the horror of such an experience as mine. +It seems as if I shall always require a neurologist to guide my future +life.” + +“Reassure yourself, Count; you are speaking quite clearly and saying +exactly what you want to express. I beg you to make use of me if +you can. My calling in some respects borders upon the sphere of the +specialist in nerve-disorders; perhaps it goes even further, and at any +rate it is bound up with the most mysterious and most speculative part +of man’s being. I am very sorry that the occasion that brings you to me +is such an unfortunate one, else I should be only too pleased by your +visit.” + +While Wenk was speaking, desiring to convey that anything out of the +common which was mentally or spiritually of an unusual and critical +nature was really his concern, the idea occurred to him to enlist the +Count’s sympathy in his own aims. Count Told was a man of the world. +He belonged to a sphere through which Wenk hoped to be able to endow +the life of the nation with nobler qualities and loftier ideals. In +the practical necessities which the last few months had forced upon +him he had almost neglected the ideal side of the task before him. The +events of this night had brought him into unexpected relations with a +human being, and he could best serve him by not leaving him alone. He +explained his views to the Count. + +“They talk of ours as the ‘upper’ class. This description, which +certainly has a substratum of truth, must be made a living reality once +more. Our class, free of the struggle to obtain a better social status, +is more than ever called upon to foster intellectual development and +mental gifts. It must cherish these noble qualities in itself and +turn them to account for others. Our sphere of politics must be the +spiritual one!” + +Count Told’s life hitherto had been irreproachable. Both in sentiment +and in the externals of life he had shown himself superior, but for +lack of serious pursuits to which he could devote himself he had thrown +his energies into following up his hobbies, such as the collection +of Futurist works of art, for which there was as yet no standard to +judge by. He patronized young poets who were at present but a minority +and a novelty. They were brought into the light, and the discovery of +their powers engaged the serious attention of himself and his like. +The struggle to get possession of something new and striking was +carried on in this respect just as it was by the profiteers of ordinary +wares.... It was not the uneducated rich who devoted themselves to it, +but those who sought for their wealth a channel which should return +their gold stamped with the impress of beauty and of intellectual +superiority. But these fell victims to the age, and their ideas +dissolved in hysteria akin to that of a weeping woman whose whole +consciousness can hold but one idea. The value of money declined, and +in so doing its power over men became all the greater; it seized upon +them with ever-growing force, till at last it was like a disease. + +Such was the connection between the hobbies of the Count and his like +and the age they lived in. The age made use of what was valuable in +them. The propagandists of the “new art” were merely stockjobbers, +uniting their intellectual ambitions with their speculations. The +celebrated “Blue Horses” were to be had for a couple of hundred marks +at first. X. bought them for eight hundred, and now it was impossible +to obtain them for two hundred thousand. It was such anecdotes as these +that spurred them on. + +For a long time Wenk and Count Told discussed these things. The Count +opposed Wenk’s view, having learnt some of the terminology of the +artists whose pictures he bought. + +“Folks even begin to say,” said Wenk to him on one occasion, “that +he speaks as well as a Futurist! And this school begins to affiliate +itself with another intellectual movement of our day, which stands +on much the same foundations--with the so-called theosophy. You +will notice that the Futurist _eo ipso_ is also a theosophist or an +anthropologist. But it is not because these ideas are really inwardly +connected, but because the pursuance of them is united. You will always +find nowadays that those who most freely deplore the materialism of our +age are those who in private life are most devoted to it. Moreover, in +the one case as in the other, it is not always a question of money. +Mental and spiritual greed is also an aspect of this age, which +exchanges the dominion of one for that of another. Everywhere folks +are seeking, seeking eagerly to escape from the misery of the present, +and for us mortals there remains but warfare--war against those near +us, against those among us, and against ourselves, and it is our class +especially which must wage war against ourselves!” + +Wenk then asked the Count whether he would not spend the night with +him, as it was now so late. + +The Count answered involuntarily, “Yes, but my wife....” Then he +stopped, looking at Wenk, and his face showed the return of his +tormenting thoughts. After a time he began again: “You had caused me to +forget my trouble, Dr. Wenk! For this night I have robbed you of, which +you have devoted to me so sympathetically, I shall eternally be in your +debt. I cannot think how I should have lived through it--alone! Now it +seems to be behind me, and I gratefully accept your offer of a bed.” + +“How would you like,” said Wenk to Count Told next morning, “for me to +see the Privy Councillor and relate your story to him?” + +“I should be extremely glad if you would.” + +He hesitated as if he wanted to say something more. Wenk noticed it and +waited. Then he said, anticipating the other, “I am absolutely at your +service. If you have any other wish....” + +The Count answered quickly, reddening as he spoke, “Yes, I want to +speak to my wife. When I think of her I feel ... so ashamed!” + +“You need not be ashamed!” + +“My wife has such a strong and forceful idea of life. It always seemed +as if she found our life together a somewhat feeble thing.... I wonder +whether it will be possible for her to go on living with a husband who +henceforth is but an invalid.” + +“I will see her, too,” said Wenk. + + * * * * * + +The Privy Councillor received Wenk at once. As amiably as he could, +and in the pleasantly sarcastic tone which distinguished him on all +occasions, he told Wenk that his opinion was that the Count had been +anxious to adventure something that might raise him in his wife’s +esteem. The force of her personality stood far above his own, and he +hoped to attain to it by undertaking so hazardous a scheme as to “pack” +the cards and win the game. It was not on account of the money, he was +convinced of that. He merely wanted to exercise his imagination in +adventure as his wife did, but her strength of character always ensured +a safe way of escape. For the more feeble personality the first attempt +had ended in misfortune. His phantasies had been excited by the current +stories of the thieving band of gambling cheats, and the whole affair +was mainly due to his neighbour at the table, whose own desire for +gain influenced a weaker character and thus paved the way to a society +scandal. + +“May I inquire, sir, who this neighbour was?” + +“Ah, now that I have been so unamiable as to speak of him thus, I +cannot possibly betray him. Moreover, he is the blameless head of a +household, a professor of physiology.” + +“The matter is a great deal more serious than you can have any idea +of, sir. The Count spent last night with me, driven to get away from +himself. He told me the story, down to the most trifling detail, and +I have no reason whatever to suspect that he was misrepresenting the +facts. He was absolutely confounded and crushed by the affair. It +seemed as if it had been a failure of intellectual force, a sudden +inhibition of brain-control. May there not have been someone among your +guests who exercised some special influence on the Count?” + +“No, there was no Futurist poet or painter among them,” laughed the +Privy Councillor. + +“I beg you not to consider my questions importunate, Councillor. You +really are convinced that no such person was present?” + +“I do not believe there could have been any. All my guests have been +personally known to me for some time. You know what the occasion of +our meeting was, don’t you? We were studying the effect of hypnosis +on a medium. There were experts, professors, artists of repute, and +some personal friends in the company. Then there was a Dr. Mabuse, +whom I have not known very long, but whose extraordinary success as +a practitioner I respect very highly. He practises psychotherapy. And +that reminds me. If Count Told’s state is such as you describe it to +be, we might see what he can do for the Count, who is the son of one +of my very oldest friends, for I feel a great deal of sympathy for him +in his present position. Tell him from me that I strongly advise his +seeing Dr. Mabuse, to whom I will give him a letter, for I know his +telephone number only.” + +Wenk said farewell, and drove from the house to Count Told’s villa at +Tutzing, hoping that he might find the Countess there, but he was told +by the footman that neither his master nor his mistress had spent the +night at home. Then he returned to his own chambers, where the Count, +pale and haggard, waited eagerly for him. + +“I felt sure of it,” he said disconsolately, when Wenk told him that +the Countess had not returned home, “but one always hopes for the +impossible. And what about the Privy Councillor?” + +“I told him exactly what you told me; he had regarded the matter in +another light, but not a very serious one. He advises you to consult a +neurologist whom he knows, and has given me this letter to him for you.” + +“Dr. Mabuse,” read the Count. “Why, he was at the party last night.” + +“Shall I go to him?” suggested Wenk. + +“No, Doctor, I really must not rely on your kindness any longer. I must +pull myself together and deal with this crisis in my life. I will call +up Dr. Mabuse on the telephone, as we have his number there. I will do +it from here, if I may.” + +“Dr. Mabuse,” said the Count at the telephone, “you were present at +Privy Councillor Wendel’s party last night when I had the misfortune +to....” + +“That is so.” + +“I want your professional help. The Councillor gave me a letter of +introduction to you. Can I bring it at once?” + +The other voice answered harshly, “No. I do not see patients except +in their own homes. What is your address? Expect me there to-morrow +morning at 11 a.m. Repeat the appointment; what time is fixed?” + +“Eleven a.m.,” said the Count, thoroughly terrified, and then he left +Wenk’s house. + + + + +XIII + + +The Countess opened her eyes on something black, intersected with red +circles and rays. All around her was dark and strange. Somewhere on +high a faint light was glimmering in the room in which she lay. She was +on a sofa, fully dressed. She had never seen the room before, and all +its contents were unfamiliar. She lay there, trying to recall what had +happened, but she found it impossible. One moment alone stood out in +her memory: the recollection of the grey eyes of that Dr. Mabuse who +had told her of tigers--eyes which had held her as with the clutch of +a beast whose claws ran blood. She recalled something like a spring in +the air, a hold that left her breathless, feeling as if the very heart +were being torn from her body and she was sinking, sinking down into a +gulf. + +Suddenly a door opened; where, exactly, she did not know, for she +felt rather than perceived it. She was expecting something, but her +imagination flowed back upon herself and she waited. + +After a time a voice spoke out of the semi-darkness: “You are awake. +Would you like the light?” + +It was a voice which seemed to the Countess at the first moment like +the trump of doom, but in an instant this sensation left her and she +felt incredulous. How came that voice into this mysterious obscurity? +It was the very last she could have expected to hear. She shrank +terrified within herself, and it seemed as if her whole body gradually +stiffened. There was a sound in her throat, but she was not conscious +of it. She stretched her hands in front of her as if warding off a +danger. Then suddenly the room was flooded with light. + +Dr. Mabuse closed the door and approached the sofa. He said: “The +situation is exactly what I desired. I have brought you home!” + +At these words the Countess regained control of herself. She rose from +the sofa, though she felt faintness stealing over her. What did this +man want with her?--but indeed she knew what he wanted. He was a tiger, +intent on his prey. Nevertheless, she asked him, “What do you want?” + +“I have just told you,” he answered curtly. + +“And now?” + +“You will remain with me.” + +“I will not!” cried the Countess. “I will go and help my husband!” And +at that moment she recollected clearly what had happened. Her husband +had cheated at cards. Oh, merciful Heaven, she thought, how could such +a thing have happened? She knew so well how utterly foreign to his +nature such a thing would be. What misery, what despair, what depths +of misfortune! And she herself had been with the woman who was an +accomplice in Hull’s murder, and had succumbed to her power. Everything +seemed to swim before her eyes, and she saw her husband’s unconscious +act through a mist of blood. + +She heard the voice of the man beside her, stern and threatening: “You +will not? Have I asked you whether you will?” + +He had not asked the tiger or the buffalo. Was he to ask a weak woman? +Was he to ask _her_? She, too, was his prey. This idea filled her with +a sort of voluptuous dread. She was the prey of the strongest man +whom she had ever known. How could she defend herself? He had simply +taken her. Were there men whose will was strong enough to give them +possession of a woman if they never even touched her? + +“How did I come here?” she asked. + +“We have something more important than that to talk about,” he answered +in a cold, harsh voice that made her tremble. “How are you going to +adapt yourself to the situation?” + +“I will never adapt myself to it!” she cried; and it seemed as if +instruments of torture were engraven on her brain. + +“That is not the question!” answered the voice, falling like a stone, +falling, lying, lying for thousands of years. “The question is, are you +going to remain with me of your own free will or as my prisoner?” + +The Countess, now fully alive to the force and compulsion which +threatened her, strove to collect her wits. She looked, listened, +considered, and slowly began to ask herself, “Shall it be cunning or +resistance?” After a time she answered, “You cannot keep me as your +prisoner in Munich.” + +Mabuse replied roughly, “How do you know that you are in Munich?” + +“Have you run away with me?” she cried. + +“I am not a gorilla.” + +“Who _are_ you? What is your name?” + +“Whatever you like to call me!” + +“Then I shall call you a gorilla,” she was about to retort angrily, +but it seemed as if her tongue refused to utter the hateful name. It +would not be expressed, and something within her appeared to change +and soften the situation, to promise allurement in the distance and +play around her fancy like busy little elves of night. Yet something in +her conscience seemed to tell her that there could be no ease for her +while her husband was cast down by misfortune and her own future was so +uncertain, and she spoke defiantly, “What do you want with me?” + +But the man looked at her long and steadily, and she felt as if her +question floated away, minute and unconsidered as a trifle on the +mighty ocean. The ocean was the breast of the man before her. There was +no breast more mighty or powerful; it represented what her inmost being +and her secret desires had yearned after. To rest upon it, to rest ... +as in the jungle.... + +Then, after he had looked at her in a silence fraught with meaning, +the man spoke. “The human race is too contemptible and inferior to +give its men and women such force as nature has provided for its other +creations; that the one sex should see, know and belong to the other as +naturally and inevitably as light belongs to day!” + +“You mean to say,” said the Countess hesitatingly, “that you love me, +and that--is why you have brought me here!” + +“I desire you, and that--for me--is stronger than love! You are here +because there is no resisting my desires. You may reign as a queen, in +this breast, and in my kingdom of Citopomar in Southern Brazil. A queen +ruling the virgin forest, its savage beasts, savage and civilized human +beings, valleys, rocks and heights. Who in this miserable continent can +offer you more?” + +“No one!” said the Countess, under the secret dominion of the dream +which had so rapidly begun its twofold play in her spirit. + +“You have decided, then, to remain of your own free will?” asked Mabuse. + +The Countess once more realized her position. She shrank from him, +and tried to shelter herself behind the ottoman. She closed her lips +firmly, but at the same time she was torn by a conflict within; she +desired to go, and at the same time she felt a yearning in some part of +her being to remain and to submit. + +He continued: “If it were like this: a man and a woman see each other +for the first time, and in the first glance that they exchange they say +to themselves, ‘There is nothing left to me of what I was. Everything +has vanished like a dissolving view, and thou, the only one, thou alone +remainest. It is inconceivable that there should be a single heart-beat +that does not belong to thee.’ It is as if all the races in all the +ages had united their powers in these two beings, instead of giving +each individual a beggarly portion of it. What a puny creature is man, +but if it were the other way with the race he would be the image of God +and of creation!” + +The Countess felt as if a sudden force was stretching her between +two poles. She knew that she herself resembled both of them, and yet +they were unlike each other. “Must I proceed from the one extreme to +the other?” she asked herself, feeling very weary, “or can I remain +hovering between them, calm and comfortable, in the warm rays of a +sunshine that steals over me so pleasantly?” + +There was always the inclination to follow the extraordinary and +unusual, that she might feel wherein she was most akin to humanity, and +yet most herself when surrounded by what did not belong to or affect +her. And over her spirit there stole again a feeling as of Paradise, +the scent of the Elysian Fields, the songs of enchanting sirens, and +it seemed as if the limits of her physical nature were dissolved and, +leaving her narrow horizon behind her, she floated as if in ether. +“What is happening to me?” she thought, as, struggling with herself, +she advanced yet nearer to the vision of Paradise which swam before her +eyes. + +The eyes of this strange, compelling being flooded her like a spring +season of sunshine. He stood high as the clouds above her. The sunshine +overpowered the earth, but the earth yielded itself gladly to its +rays. Was that the secret of her nature too? she herself asked. The +season, now wild and stormy, advanced like a monster endued with power, +from beyond the horizon, over the forests, rivers, cities, mountains, +looking neither to right nor left and penetrating to the very heart +of things. “If this man overcomes me in such a way, fills my whole +being, is that indeed Paradise? Is it for me completion, redemption, +deliverance? Is this my second nature which I have never yet dared to +follow?” + +She desired to resist, but a subtle and enchanting feebleness stole +over her, and she felt herself like a March field, dark and yielding. +A jackdaw was screeching in it, but somewhere or other a thrush was +singing behind her. And the screeching jackdaw and the singing thrush +were snatching at a maggot, a living maggot in the bark of the tree, +and even the bark of the tree seemed to be awaiting and expectant, and +there was a murmuring sound in its cells. And the thrush mounted high +into the air, singing triolets born of the spirit of the soil.... + +Woman was the thrush, and at the same time she was the maggot. She +yielded herself to the destroying force, and knew it not for the tumult +in her blood. She was stirred in her inmost being, plunged into the +depths and soared again, intangible as an air-bubble.... Above her rose +the call of the man like the rustling sound of the summer, calling the +sap to rise, to push forward the growth which should end in a glorious +harvest. + + + + +XIV + + +Mabuse’s visit to Count Told duly took place. “Your neurosis is not +by any means an unusual one,” said the doctor. “It will be cured when +you regain control of yourself, but it will become worse and finally +be incurable if you don’t succeed in doing that. It is a precursor of +_dementia præcox_. For professional reasons I shall treat you in your +own home, as I do all my patients. I make one condition, however. As +long as you are undergoing treatment you must not leave the house or +see anyone who recalls your former life.” + +Told was stupefied by the power and authority which this doctor assumed +towards him. Timid and shrinking by nature, downcast by what had +occurred, he did not venture to make any objection, and from the very +first moment he stood in absolute awe of him. + +When Mabuse left the villa, in which he had seen many things which +revealed the life the Count and his wife had led, he said to himself, +“He must be got rid of if she even mentions him again.” + +The doctor was in a highly excitable and savage state. The meeting +with this man, who had so long called her his own, had fired his blood +and inflamed him as if he had been a bull in the arena transfixed by a +javelin. He unconsciously lowered his head as if for attack, and his +imagination ran riot, thirsting to satisfy his hate and revenge. It +seemed to him as if a tumour had suddenly burst within him, scattering +its evil and offensive discharge everywhere, and he allowed himself to +bathe in its stream. + +When he re-entered his house he went straight to the room in which the +Countess was confined. It was in a secluded corner of the villa. The +only light there was came from a round window in its arched and richly +decorated dome. + +The Countess arose as he came in. She was white as the sheets upon her +bed. She went towards him, saying, “Something happened to me in the +night--something of which I was wholly unconscious. What have you been +doing to me?” + +“Nothing but what you allowed me to do!” + +Then the woman trembled so that she sank down to the ground, raising +her glance to his like an animal that has been shot down, and crying in +horror, “You devil! oh, you devil!” + +“That name pleases me,” said Mabuse. “I consider it flattering. It +is, without your realizing it, a caress. Next time you will call me +Lucifer, for I shall bring you light!” + +The Countess, lying in a heap on the floor, broke into passionate sobs, +crying in the midst of her anguish, “Where is my husband?” + +Then she saw that at the question Mabuse made a gesture, so indifferent +and trivial that she felt her painful anguished appeal was no more than +a drop of dew vanishing in the sand, and as hopeless to look for. And +her downcast broken heart asked itself whether this man could indeed be +so powerful that everything went down before his will--that what she +and others before her had been must be brought to nought? + +Once again she must yield herself to the twofold stream within. It bore +the most secret and hitherto unsuspected currents along with it, and +her tortured imagination gave them full play. Must not that which her +blood sought to reveal to her be true? She could not separate herself +from this new world of feeling. Resist and inveigh against it as she +might, she could yet not tear it from her. + +The man stood silent before her, and his silence seemed to threaten +her. She thought that by a word of her own she could destroy this +threatening attitude of his, but she found no power to say anything +more than to repeat helplessly, “Where is my husband?” Then Mabuse, +silently and roughly, turned away. + +When he had left her, leaving behind nothing but the impression of +his dominating will, she felt as if she missed something in the room. +She would have preferred him to stand there still, and her sense of +isolation passed all bounds, overwhelming her. A bottomless abyss +opened before her, and phantom figures made appealing gestures. But she +could not cast herself down; she hung on to one slender rootlet; she +knew it to be the tiny remnant that remained to her of her former life. +She wished too, that even this rootlet might be torn adrift, for she +would rather have faced death in its entirety than hover over the void. + + * * * * * + +Mabuse went backwards and forwards in his room. He was like a caged +beast, caught between his rage for vengeance and lust of domination on +the one hand and the resistance raised to the attainment of his goal +on the other. That which baffled him was such a trifle, merely the +memories binding a wife to the hours she has passed with her husband, +either alone or in company, and because it was so slight an obstacle, +the desire to remove and destroy it utterly possessed him with fury +such as he had not known till now. + +Spoerri entered. He was dressed as a soldier. “What is that for?” asked +Mabuse morosely, but he did not wait for an answer, and asked about +George’s movements. + +“He is at the villa in Schachen. He is very cautious, and does not go +out.” + +“What is he doing there?” + +“At night he helps to bring the store of cocaine under the summer-house +into Switzerland. I have found something fresh which they are ready to +take there. Ether.” + +“What is the ether for?” + +“Folks are beginning to take it.” + +“Who? What folks? Where?” + +“Our folks, in Switzerland!” + +“_Your_ folks; how many have you?” + +“We can get it to the others!” + +“That reminds me of the girls you were sending to Switzerland, to speed +up the smuggling of salvarsan. I don’t want to hear anything about +business matters. You understand, nothing.” + +“I won’t say any more about it.” + +“Perhaps, Spoerri, there’ll be no need for that sort of thing any +more!” + +Then a hoarse cry was uttered by Spoerri. “Oh, Doctor, Citopomar! Is it +to be soon now?” + +“We’ll drink to it, Spoerri, we’ll drink to it. I don’t know. Let’s +drink to the shepherd boy with eighty-six thousand marks yearly income!” + +“Oh, what have I out of it? Do I not always invest it again in one or +other of your enterprises, Doctor?” + +“Because it brings you in ten per cent. more there than it would in an +insurance society. Shall I have to use force, shepherd? Drink, I say!” + +Spoerri was the first to fall from his chair. He lay on the floor, +disorder all around him, gazing sadly at his master. He lay there +like a dog about to die, knowing that he could no longer protect his +master’s life. + +Mabuse, tottering so that he was obliged to hold on to the edge of the +table to save himself from falling, stuttered: “Spoerri, do you think +there is anyone whose will is strong enough for him to kill someone +else without even touching him?” + +But Spoerri did not understand him. He looked up at his master with +glassy eyes, stupid yet faithful, troubled and sick. + +“_I_ can! and I shall do it, too!... Sleep,” he said suddenly, and +rising, he spurned the other with his foot. He took a few steps +forward, having to seek support. Then he pulled himself together, +and his will-power was held as it were within an iron vice. Rigidly +upright, without a sign of swaying, inflamed with drink and in a state +of exaltation, he went into the room the Countess occupied and remained +with her without saying a word. And from that hour of humiliation this +woman, too, acknowledged his supremacy. She forgot her past, forgot +her very self, and submitted willingly to her master. + + * * * * * + +During the night Mabuse started for Lake Constance. Just as he was +approaching the villa at Schachen, having extinguished his lights, he +narrowly missed a collision with the engine of the steam-roller which +was standing in the road a few yards from the garden entrance. It was +directly in front of him when he applied his brakes, and he therefore +did not drive up to the house, but continued along the road for another +kilometre, then left the car standing and went back to the house by the +shore-path. + +“Why did you not tell me the steam-roller was here?” he asked George +imperiously. “Even a match-box lying out in the street might betray us. +Go and fetch the car, quickly! It is on the highroad near Wasserburg. +Put it away and come straight back here.” + + * * * * * + +Next morning the telephone bell woke Wenk from his sleep. “News from +the steam-roller,” he heard, and was at once wide awake. + +“Yes, yes; please go on.” + +“Last night about two o’clock a car arrived, and pulled up directly in +front of our engine, then drove on again. As it was driving without +lights, I ordered Schmied to follow on a bicycle. He found it about +a kilometre further on, left alone by the roadside, and came back at +once to report. I stole into the garden of the villa, but the dog began +barking and I went outside round the shore. I saw a man come from the +direction of the lake and go into the house. When Schmied and I went +back to find the car it had vanished. There is nothing to be noticed +this morning!” + +“Thanks. You can expect me there to-day.” + + * * * * * + +An hour before this conversation took place on the telephone, while +still dark, Mabuse left the villa. He was wearing women’s clothes and +was rowed across to Nonnenhorn. A motor-boat approached, and in it was +a fisherman returning from a smuggling expedition. Mabuse accosted him, +but the man said he was in a hurry, for he must take his fish home. +Then Mabuse at one bound sprang into his boat, overpowered him, threw +him down and gagged him, and then transferred him to the rowing-boat. +He took off his female garments, beneath which he was dressed as a +fisherman, and making a wide detour, he returned to shore and went to +the farm where in a barn the car was concealed. George was lying in it +asleep. + +After a long conversation with George, Mabuse turned and drove back +into Würtemberg, while George returned to Schachen. + +Mabuse wanted to get to Stuttgart. His agents there had telephoned the +previous day that a patient wanted to consult him. That meant that they +had got hold of a rich man worth plucking. + +While Mabuse was sitting at the gaming-table that evening, he had a +sudden vision of the steam-roller as it appeared directly in front of +him when he applied his brakes. The huge machine was outlined in the +darkness, and it seemed as if it were about to fall upon him, and to +his fancy it took on a strange shape, finally revealing the features +of the State Attorney. As he recalled it, it seemed to stand forth +like some antediluvian monster, bearing Wenk’s face, about to fall +upon and crush him. Mabuse felt vaguely uneasy, and he suddenly left +the gaming-table, where he was losing, and drove back in the night to +Munich. On the way this action of his seemed ridiculous, and he felt +as if his impulse had been unwarranted. “My desire for that woman will +conquer any fear of that accursed lawyer,” he thought, but yet Wenk +seemed to stand in his way, more powerful than ever. Why was he still +there? Had Mabuse’s order not been distinct enough? If not, he would +repeat it! + +When once again in his house at Munich he went straight to bed. He +controlled his desire to go to the Countess, and fell fast asleep at +once. + + * * * * * + +When the road-menders in Schachen returned to work after their midday +rest, a man who had come out of the inn attached himself to their +party, saying that he wanted to speak to the overseer. Was it likely he +could find a job? he asked them. + +“You can have mine this minute, if you’ll pay for it well,” said one +jokingly, but the man said that he only wanted the work so that he +could get some pay himself. “That’s another matter,” laughed the navvy. +“There’s the overseer standing there.” + +The man went towards him, speaking in a low tone, and unobtrusively +drew him somewhat away from the rest. Yes, he could possibly get a +job, said the overseer, who was really a police inspector; let him +show his papers. + +These the man brought out, saying, “Do not show yourself surprised, +inspector. Look as if you were reading the papers through, and take me +on to help the stoker on the engine. He is Sergeant Schmied, isn’t he?” + +“Yes, sir.... Well, all right, I’ll take you on,” said the inspector +aloud. “We can give you some work. Come this way. Schmied,” he called +out. He explained to Schmied in an undertone that the State Attorney +was going to spend the day on the engine as stoker’s assistant. + +“What have you noticed now?” asked Wenk of Schmied, as the road-engine +moved backwards and forwards. + +“While you were on the way, the inspector telephoned to you, but you +had already started. Things seem very strange here. We saw the man go +to the villa that night, and we thought he must be the one who had left +the car standing in the road, but yet it doesn’t seem to tally with the +rest, for when we came back to the car it had disappeared. Early this +morning there was a woman in a rowing-boat on the lake near the villa, +but we could not be sure whether she actually came from there. An hour +later, Poldringer, the man we are watching, came from the highroad and +went into the house; but we had never seen him leave it, and that is +very curious.” + +“You have no idea whether the villa has some unknown exit?” + +“No, for hitherto our observations of Poldringer all tally. He used to +return the same way he went out. He scarcely ever leaves the place, +not once in three days.” + +“Is there no way of getting into the villa?” + +“Not without exciting attention. I see that by the way tramps are +turned away. They have a well-trained bloodhound there.... It would not +be possible to effect a secret entrance.” + +“Is Poldringer still there?” + +“Yes; I saw him at a window just now.” + +“Had the car a number-plate?” + +“Yes, the Constance district; here is the number.” + +“That, of course, is a false one. It came from the Lindau direction, I +think you said?” + +“Yes, sir. I telephoned the number to Friedrichshafen, Ravensburg, +Lindau, Wangen and Constance. From Constance they told me that the +number I gave belonged to a car in use by the Sanitary Commissioners +which never left Constance.” + +“Isn’t it possible that the car had been expected at the villa, but +did not stop at it, either because they wanted to use it again shortly +or because something had made them a bit suspicious--the steam-roller, +for example?... and therefore Poldringer was told to wait for the +car in the street and take it to some place of concealment? During +that time the man who had brought it here arrived at the villa. He is +either still there with Poldringer or else he was the woman in the +rowing-boat, and he has driven to the place where the car is. We must +find out where they keep it hidden.” + +“We often hear the sound of a motor-boat at night not far from the +shore, but we are not able to keep an eye on it.” + +“I shall sleep in the trolly with you to-night, and we will stop the +roller half a kilometre further away from the house. Is there any +suitable place to hide in near the house?” + +“Yes.” + +“Then we’ll go together. Is that settled? All right, then; now I’m +going to learn how to lay out the stones. Hitherto, I’ve only laid out +criminals!” laughed Wenk. + +“Yes, your honour,” said Schmied cheerily, as he released the throttle +and started the engine. “Will your honour please to stoke up!” And Wenk +heaped more coal into its glowing maw. + +“Up to now your honour has never fired an engine, only criminals!” he +continued, carrying on Wenk’s joke. + +“Yes, but not enough of those, as you see at the villa, my good +Schmied,” answered the lawyer. “However, I hope with your help....” + +“We shall catch them all right,” said Schmied eagerly. + +“If we don’t overreach ourselves, for I think we are dealing at the +moment with the most dangerous and daring gang in Europe. You know that +we have ascertained so far that it is a case of card-sharping, murder, +terrorization, and all of it done by the help of a gang.” + +“Yes, indeed,” said Schmied. + +As they were leaving the trolly that evening Schmied whispered: “I +should like to draw your attention to something, sir. Every evening I +go by as if I were taking a little rest after the day’s work, and I +light up my pipe. Just at the side there, you see, we are getting to +a little door. Whenever anyone goes by, the dog begins barking, and I +couldn’t help thinking there was some reason for it, but one can’t find +it out from the street. You see now, I am just close to it, and while I +am going by I fasten ... (just listen to the dog now!) a thread across +the door. Anybody who opens it would break the thread, but he would not +notice it when going through. In this way I can keep watch over the +door, even when it is not actually in view. Then I can tell whether +anyone has gone through the gate in the dark. In the morning I go and +look at it first thing, and take the thread away.” + +“Is it there already?” + +“I have just fastened it there.” + +“Then you did it very smartly, for I did not notice anything,” said +Wenk, praising him. + +“Let us go back. It really is a side-entrance to the other villa.” + +“Do you know who is living there?” + +“For the last thirty years an old maid has been living there. There +certainly is no connection between the two villas.” + +They strolled back along the road. + +“If you would like to go to sleep, Schmied, I have no objection. I know +what I’ve to look out for now.” + +“Well, I really should be glad to, sir, for last night I got no sleep, +and I must be out there again before four o’clock.” + +“I understand. Well then, good-night....” + +Wenk continued his patrol throughout the whole of the spring night, +but nothing happened, and he noticed nothing out of the common. Next +morning he repaired to the hotel at Lindau, the address of which he +had notified before leaving Munich. The director told him he had been +rung up from Munich, and his man wanted him to know that Count Told +most earnestly desired to speak to him as soon as possible. The call +had come from his home at Munich. He seemed to be greatly agitated, and +begged the man to telephone the message on. + +Wenk returned to Munich and rang up the Count, but an unfamiliar voice +informed him that the Count had started on a journey. + +“Did he leave no message for me?” said Wenk. + +“No.” + +“Where has he gone?” + +“He left no address. Please ring off.” + +Wenk was thoroughly perplexed. + + + + +XV + + +That same morning Mabuse had visited Told. “You are not so well, I can +see,” said he to him. “Your pupils are very much dilated.” + +“Is that a sign...?” said Told hesitatingly. + +“Yes. Don’t talk about your state; put it entirely out of your head. +Where is your wife?” + +The startled Count could not venture on an answer. + +“Your wife did not want to live with you any more--never any more!” +went on the Doctor harshly. “That is so, isn’t it? You must destroy the +past, break off all relation to it. Call your man here!” + +Told rang, and the man came. The Count, with a gesture, referred him to +the doctor. + +“Has anybody telephoned?” + +“No, Doctor.” + +“Has anyone rung up from here?” + +“I did,” answered Told. + +“Whom?” + +“Dr. von Wenk.” + +“Why?” + +“I wanted to speak to him.” + +“What did you want to say?” + +The embarrassed Count answered, “Only ... to speak ... to speak to +some human being or other!” + +“Is your servant a bullock, then, or am I one?” asked Mabuse harshly. +“You can talk to me if you want to. What crazy idea has got into your +head?” + +The Count turned his head away; he no longer had the courage to face +his doctor.... “Is he going to cure me?” he asked himself. Then he +looked up at him timidly and irresolutely. “You are no human being: +you are a devil!” was the secret cry of his heart, but these fierce +thoughts soon left him, and he felt suddenly sleepy. “I am always so +tired!” he exclaimed. + +“Tell your man now, in my presence, to refuse all visitors or anyone +who telephones. He must say, ‘The Count has gone on a journey. He left +no address. Please ring off.’” + +Slowly and mechanically Told repeated the order, and the man bowed and +withdrew. + +“I am really not sure whether I shall go on with your case,” said +Mabuse. But Told hardly heeded him; he seemed to feel a slow poison +stealing into his veins. + +“You are thirsty!” said Mabuse, suddenly. + +“Yes, I am,” whispered the Count. + +“You are to drink a mixture of brandy and Tokay, as much as you like. +Take good long draughts--the brandy will do you good. You must forget +everything in your past, your wife as well. When you are convinced that +you have succeeded in doing that, you are on the road to recovery. +You must destroy the past, you understand. The alcohol will help you +there.” + +“Destroy the past,” stammered the Count, as if sinking into a bog that +threatened to engulf him, “destroy ... the ... past....” + +“In two years’ time you can think about resuming your ordinary life +again. In what time?” he broke off suddenly. “What time did I say?” he +thundered. + +The Count aroused himself from his lethargy. Horrified at the length of +time involved, he answered in a low tone, “Two years.” + +“Do you know that your wife wants to put you into a lunatic asylum? She +is getting the State Attorney, Wenk, to help her. Was not that the man +who rang you up?... I am coming again to-morrow.” + +The Count remained alone, dejected and humiliated. It seemed as if +elephants were trampling out his brains, that his spirit was a prey +to crocodiles and he was covered with mud and slime. “The whole world +has forsaken me,” he murmured. The pictures he had collected around +him seemed to be celebrating orgies on the walls. He could no longer +understand how it was they could ever have pleased him, nor why he had +endured them so long. He took a hunting-knife and slit every one of +them from top to bottom, hacking at their frames. When he had done it, +he sprang back in horror. He held his head in his hands, groaning, “Oh +God, am I really mad?” + +He began drinking brandy, and he drank it out of a claret tumbler. +When he had had three glasses he was intoxicated. Then it seemed as if +the doctor had left something behind him and that this lay in front of +him. He did not know what it was, but he tried to grasp it, and then +suddenly it had jumped to his head. It seemed like a wedge fastened +there, fitting tightly between the two halves of the brain. Fear seized +upon him and tore his courage to shreds. “Doctor, Doctor,” he shouted, +and he heard his voice re-echo in the empty rooms. The world was so +wide, yet he was alone. And then he became unconscious. + + * * * * * + +Karstens succumbed to his wounds, and again the public imagination +busied itself with the death of a second victim. Wenk found himself in +a difficulty and decided one day to make a final appeal to the dancer. +He went to her cell. + +“I am not going to speak to you,” said Cara when she perceived him. + +Wenk took no notice, and said in a troubled tone, his hopes +disappearing: “Do you know that the beautiful lady who was always +looking on at the play at Schramm’s has disappeared?” + +“Not the one you sent to me in prison?” answered the dancer instantly. + +“Yes,” said Wenk, and it was not till he had uttered the word that +he perceived the significance of this admission. It was all very +mysterious. Had the Countess revealed her errand to Cara, and was she +in league with the gamblers? It seemed incredible, but yet how strange +it was that Cara, who would not at first speak to him, at once gave him +her attention when he mentioned the Countess. Wenk did not want Cara to +think that he was astonished at this, and went on talking, while he was +trying to consider how he could best arrive at the secret; but he did +not stop to reflect upon the ideas that came uppermost. In the course +of the conversation he hazarded a conjecture that had often occurred to +him when he thought of Cara’s connection with the criminal, but which +he had never mentioned till now. He said, “You are sacrificing yourself +for this criminal because you could not make up your mind to part from +him.” + +Then Cara sprang up, staring at Wenk as if convulsed. He looked her +right in the eyes, and noticed that an expression of overwhelming +horror stood in them, and was clearly written upon her distorted +features. + +“Well?” he asked, encouraged and hopeful. + +But Cara remained as if frozen in her stony attitude. + +Then he ventured further. “If we came to some agreement, I could make +proposals that would be to your advantage.” + +Slowly the dancer recovered from the horror that had seized upon her. +For the last three years, ever since Mabuse had repulsed her, her life +had been a story of self-sacrificing martyrdom and devoted adherence +to the man who had wrought her ruin and driven her to crime. Not for +a single instant had she thought of betraying him, of refusing her +allegiance. Indelibly stamped upon her whole nature like the brand of +a slave was the feeling that mastery and might such as his could never +be contested. And now, through Wenk’s words, she beheld this man whom +she adored threatened with danger. What did the State Attorney know, +and how had he obtained his knowledge? Had the Countess betrayed her +after all? Slowly she evolved a plan by which to discover how much the +lawyer knew. She might possibly convey a warning to Dr. Mabuse, and at +the thought her blood was fired and the delicious sensation of feeling +herself his deliverer, and perhaps, too, regaining the ascendancy she +had lost, stole over her. No, it could not be, she dared not even +conceive of it; to save him from danger would be enough for her, to +know him secure would be bliss. Finally she said, “Since you seem to be +better informed than I imagined, I will speak, but you must give me two +days to think it over.” + +The dancer had learnt from the warder that someone had been inquiring +about her, and from the description given she believed it to be +Spoerri. She would therefore have an opportunity of telling him about +her interview with Wenk and warning him of what might occur. + +“Very well,” said Wenk, relieved. Then he thought he would clinch the +matter, and as his previous supposition seemed to have hit the mark, he +imagined it a favourable opportunity to inflame her imagination still +further, so he said, “I am trying to get on the track of the Countess; +she seems to be in hiding with your friend.” + +He was so ashamed of these words, however, that he blushed as he +uttered them, recalling with painful intensity his few meetings with +the missing lady--meetings which had bound him so closely to her. But +the effect of his words on the dancer was wholly unexpected. She fell +back on her pallet, sobbed aloud, tried to speak, but could utter no +word, and then she clenched her fists and raised them despairingly to +her brow. + +Wenk went off quickly, thinking it best not to disturb this attitude +of mind but to let her yield wholly to its influence. As he opened the +door a man stumbled against it, but it was only the warder, who had +come, as he said, to look at the prisoner as his duty was just at this +time. “All right,” said Wenk, and he made his way out. + + * * * * * + +Shortly afterwards the following things occurred. Near Hengnau, on the +borders of Würtemberg, a man was detained and arrested as he was about +to drive cattle to Würtemberg. At first he pretended to be dumb, but +afterwards he raged furiously at his capture. The examining counsel, in +order to intimidate him, said one day, “You had better confess before +the new law is passed. If you are tried before then you may get off +lightly, but later on it may cost you your head.” + +“What new law is that?” asked the man. + +“The crime of endangering the food distribution is punishable with +death.” + +“What sort of death?” + +“Probably hanging!” + +“And if I am convicted before that is passed?” + +“You won’t get more than a year’s imprisonment at the most.” + +Then he suddenly confessed, and his confession opened many doors. He +confessed all that he had been doing for years and gave the names of +all the profiteers known to him. Many arrests were the result. Every +day afforded fresh opportunities, and finally one day the name of the +man whom Mabuse had dismissed on the highroad to Lindau--Pesch--was +mentioned. + +Pesch was arrested, and his first night in prison was spent at Wangen, +which was his native place. When the warder entered his cell next +morning, the prisoner had disappeared. A few hours later a telephone +message came to the Wangen police. In a wood on the highroad to Lindau +a man was lying dead. It was undoubtedly a case of murder. + +An inquiry took place on the spot. The dead man was Pesch. He had been +stabbed, and as they raised his body they saw on the large white stone +on which it had rested certain signs which had been written in blood. +The very same day experts deciphered these signs. They stood for “Villa +Elise.” + +The mayors in the neighbouring districts were asked whether they knew +a villa bearing this name, and thus it was soon ascertained that +at Schachen there was a villa so called, and it was under police +surveillance. + +Wenk was at once informed, and he drove to Lindau. The two detectives +who were in charge of the steam-roller had ascertained that Poldringer +had left Schachen on a bicycle the very day that Pesch was imprisoned, +and had not returned until three o’clock the next morning. + +Then Wenk arranged that two motor-boats should be stationed on the +lake. They were made to appear as if they were Customs’ official boats, +and were provided with searchlights. + +Another human life had been sacrificed, but this fresh murder had +revealed something more far-reaching and dangerous than had yet been +suspected. It was certain that the gang was taking part in this +profiteering movement also, and it became clear that its leader had +created an entire yet invisible State to carry on his purposes and +give effect to the deeds his will imposed on his fellows. + +Pesch left a wife and five children, and since the family breadwinner +was gone, they were in absolute danger of starving. Then Wenk sought +out Edgar Hull’s father, to obtain help for them, and the idea suddenly +occurred to him, “Why not establish an educational institution, a real +home-school for the children of criminals, taking them in under an +assumed name? Perhaps that would be a good way to lay out your money. +The children, who so often inherit the parents’ characteristics, could +be watched over and perhaps influenced for good in their early years. +If it were not possible to eradicate their vices, at least they could +be kept apart from their fellows and removed before they have a chance +of harming them. In this way a large proportion of the criminal class +might be rendered harmless and many people would be saved....” + +“I will do it,” said Hull, “and I am grateful to you for the +suggestion.” + + * * * * * + +The next evening Wenk was walking from the Marstall to the +Maximilianstrasse, and as he passed the Four Seasons Hall he thought he +saw someone he knew in the crowd in front of him struggling to gain an +entrance; but he could not recall who it was, and went straight ahead. +As he walked on he strove to remember whose back and shoulders it was +that had seemed so familiar, but he could not place the individual. +Soon afterwards he came to an advertisement window in which the scheme +of a popular lottery was displayed. The large letters could be seen +through the dusty pane, and the words “Lucky Chance” stood out. These +words at once gave Wenk the clue he had been seeking. The back he had +noticed belonged to the sandy-bearded gambler. + +He was astounded at the discovery. He had been seeking this man for +many days and nights all over Germany, and here he was, and he had +passed so close by him that he could have touched him on the shoulder. +He turned round at once, went back to the hall and at the entrance +he read a notice stating that Dr. Mabuse was giving a lecture, with +experiments, there that evening. + +He immediately ordered one of the constables standing outside to fetch +six plain-clothes men and tell them to close all the exits without +exciting any attention, and when the detectives were placed, he entered +the hall. It was an easy one to search, and he went from row to row, +while the lecturer was engaged in preparing his experiments. Wenk +took up a position here and there, and looked at the folks one after +another. But nowhere did he find the owner of the back which was so +impressed on his mind. + +He noticed some of his acquaintance. There was Privy Councillor Wendel +sitting in the front row, and a legal colleague of his was there with +his wife and grown-up daughter, but he behaved as if he saw nobody +and continued his eager search. It was all in vain, however. Then he +took a sudden resolve, went outside again, and gave the detectives +the following orders. All the exits were to be locked except one. Two +detectives were to enter the hall, and one of them was to go on to the +platform at once and request the audience to leave the hall quietly, +one by one. Both were to see that there was no one left behind. The +four others were to stand at the folding doors and let the people pass +through singly, only one half of the door being opened. + +Wenk himself would stand by the door, and if he gave any order for +arrest, two of the detectives would at once take the man aside and +handcuff him. The two others would then only have to take care that no +one got near the man arrested. All were to have their service revolvers +ready for use. There was great excitement in the hall when the +announcement was made, and several cries of disapproval of the order +were heard. The detective strove to pacify the disappointed audience. + +Mabuse’s first thought, when he heard the Secret Service agent’s +announcement, was a doubt whether he should have ventured on this +public appearance, but he soon dismissed the troublesome idea. Yes, +he had been right, for it provided him, in concentrated form, with +the nourishment upon which his mind battened. With such hypnotic +powers as he possessed he must always be in relation with a larger +and unknown public. To feel his power over the narrow circle to which +his professional duties bound him, the members of which were known to +him, was not enough for his insatiable ambition. His sphere must know +no limits, and with these weird and mysterious gifts of his he could +exploit the triviality and credulity of his fellows and at the same +time give full play to his hatred and his lust for domination. + +Upon such a stage as this he felt as if born anew. It was here that +he had inaugurated his reign of power, when the war sent him from +his South Sea plantations back to his home, a ruined man, and this +domination of his he could not renounce. While these thoughts were +passing through his mind he went to the detective and asked what had +happened. “You must inquire of the State Attorney, sir,” said the man. +“Dr. von Wenk is just outside.” + +Mabuse turned pale and walked away, going rapidly towards the Privy +Councillor, whom he saw still sitting in the front row. As he went, +he felt in his pocket to make sure that his revolver was safe, and +sensations of hatred and defiance went through his whole body, +fastening as it were like a brand upon his mental image of Wenk. + +“First of all you, and then ...” he said to himself, but he was already +smiling in the Councillor’s face. + +“Your hypnotic powers,” said the latter, “seem to be giving the State +Attorney some trouble!” + +“Is that Dr. Wenk?” said Mabuse, drawing back as if astonished. + +“I saw him just now going from seat to seat and fixing an eagle eye on +everybody here, as if to pierce through coat, waistcoat and shirt to +reach a guilt-burdened conscience. He does not seem to have found his +man, however.” + +Mabuse’s breast heaved, inflated at the thought of his success. He +felt like a horse in sight of its manger after a long and weary road. +Although he clearly understood what the words implied, he nevertheless +asked the Councillor, “How do you know that?” + +“It is quite simple, for if he had found his man, he would have let one +of the detectives take him out without disturbing your lecture.” + +“That is true,” said Mabuse. “Let us go.” + +He pressed towards the door, taking the Councillor with him. He was +thoroughly on the alert, looking behind him to see that he did not +lose touch with Wendel, and also ahead, where lay the danger he wished +to avoid. Whenever any movement threatened to separate him from the +elderly savant, he used all the cunning at his command to get near +him again. It was above all essential not to leave the hall exposed +to Wenk’s gaze as a solitary individual. The Councillor, who was old +and well known, must help him to throw the hound off the scent. He was +aged, however, and could not hurry; but Mabuse dared not be the last +one to leave, closely eyed as he would be by a disappointed man who had +not found the quarry he sought. There were still some others behind +him, to whose party he might attach himself, so that he need not be the +last. + +One thing was certain. It was he, and none other, whom the State +Attorney was seeking, but Wenk did not know that Mabuse was his quarry, +or he would have had him arrested on the platform. How had he got upon +the track? Was it a mere guess that had started him off? Was there +treachery in it? No; _he_ would never be betrayed. Could Wenk have +recognized him, one of those evenings at the gaming-table? No; it was +impossible, his disguises were too perfect for that, so.... + +Then a hand touched his, and Mabuse looked into Spoerri’s inquiring +eyes, and saw beside him another man of his bodyguard, and he +immediately looked away again unconcernedly. Spoerri and his accomplice +were pressing towards the exit in front of him. Mabuse went on +thinking, and came to the conclusion that mere chance had put Wenk on +this track, some faint resemblance or recollection, some movement or +action.... In any case, Wenk must see as little of him as possible, and +since his back would be exposed to him longer than any other part, he +put his arms through the sleeves of his overcoat and thus altered his +appearance. + +And now he had reached the exit with the Privy Councillor. He quickly +pushed him in front, following closely on his heels. At the moment when +Wendel stepped to the door, Wenk was ordering a detective to tell two +men who were lingering on the stairs to move on. Mabuse heard the man +say, “Shall I arrest them?” Then he looked ahead and saw that the order +referred to Spoerri and his subordinate. Mabuse sought to catch his +eye; he took his pocket-handkerchief out with a flourish and blew his +nose loudly. Spoerri saw it and understood, and at once withdrew with +his companion. + +Mabuse saw Wenk shaking hands with the Councillor. Then it was his turn +to come forward, and Wendel introduced “Dr. Mabuse.” Without taking +his eyes off the door, through which the light from the hall was now +streaming, Wenk shook hands with Mabuse, saying courteously, “You won’t +be annoyed with me for carrying out my duty, I hope, Doctor?” + +Mabuse answered with affected friendliness, his hand on the revolver +in his pocket, “Certainly not; I must naturally take the second place +when it is a question of the good of the community, whom you are +endeavouring to rid of a criminal.” + +He had already passed on. Wenk nodded to him, but did not look round +again, as his gaze was still fastened on the door. + +The Privy Councillor took Mabuse’s arm going downstairs. Mabuse +accompanied him to the gentlemen’s cloakroom and then took his leave. +One of his cars was waiting in the Maximilianstrasse, and right and +left of him at the entrance to the _foyer_ his people were standing +in readiness for anything that might happen. Spoerri had taken up his +position at the main door of the hall, to keep watch upon the stairs; +then he went out behind Mabuse, and the others, who were in small +detached groups, always ready to close up at a word, followed them. It +was not until Mabuse had taken his seat in the car and driven off that +they dispersed, each going a separate way. + +Driving homeward, Mabuse reflected that he had committed one act of +folly. He ought at any rate to have asked when he would be allowed to +give his experiments. This fact depressed him, and he felt that he +had failed in some way. He would never have done anything so foolish +formerly, and the idea occurred to him that perhaps his power was on +the decline, and that it was now time for Citopomar. + +Then suddenly he shouted aloud, “No! this is due to that woman! Wenk +wants to hang me, the woman makes me feel old, and she is delivering +me over to the gallows.” Why should this woman, young and beautiful as +she was, who had abandoned herself to her lot with despairing fatalism, +make him feel old? Her abandonment of herself was like wine to him, and +this idea started another train of thought. He was in conflict with +himself. There was no enjoyment in the thought that he had escaped +a great danger, and in the midst of his uneasy reflections he had a +sudden breathless conviction that she made him feel old because he +loved her. Then he felt a hatred of himself, gathering into one mighty +heap all the fierce and bitter hatred he had cherished for others and +pouring it out on himself. So strongly did he suffer from the burden +of these chaotic feelings that his brain grew giddy. But now he had +reached his house. + +All the wrinkles in his face were deepened and intensified, but it was +his eyes that looked most dreadful, and the Countess trembled as he +entered her room. No longer were they of the steely grey of an agate, +but rather seemed shot with rays of copper colour. + +“What has happened?” she asked. + +Then he told her something quite different from that which he had meant +to tell her. + +“Do you know who I am?” he asked, and his tone was one of frenzied +delirium. “I am a werwolf; I suck man’s blood. Every day my hatred +burns up all the blood in my veins, and every night I fill them again +by sucking the blood of some human being. If men caught me, they would +tear me into little bits. I will bite through your white throat, you +tormenting witch!” + +The Countess started as if stung, and, mad with pain and torture, cried +aloud, “Kill me then! What could be better than death?” + +“But I love you!” cried the voice of the man beside her, who seemed to +be possessed by devils. + +The woman hid her face in her hands. It was the first time she had +heard such a confession from that imperious mouth, and it stirred her +to the depths of her nature. Her free spirit had been snatched from +the world and confined in a fortress whence there was no escape. Her +life was a dead thing, but the blood within her raged in dread and +mysterious tumult, inflamed and excited by the power of this man. Her +dead soul was afire, and there was nothing left to consume: whence then +came this flame? + +Mabuse left the Countess without saying another word. “I have told her +enough,” he said to himself. He threw himself down on his bed, but +could not sleep. He felt as if something new had come into his life, +till then so steady and changeless, as if the danger which he had +always been able to grasp and bring to nought had eluded him and were +sinking into the icy black gulf in whose depths his life and actions +were grounded. For hours he tried to grapple with this new force and +subordinate it to his will, but evermore it seemed to evade him. + +Then he returned to the Countess, lying fully dressed and sleepless +on her bed, and he said, “We must talk matters out. Our fates are +entwined, and we must go through life together. From some source or +other of my existence my blood has received something which revolts +against a peaceful and well-ordered life, and will not permit to others +a power above its own. Thus it is that I have become, as it were, the +chief of a robber horde. I have known but two states: the desire to +dominate and the necessity to hate! But now you have come upon the +scene. At first I thought that your spirit would be consumed in the +twin flames that inspire mine, but it is not so. Hundreds have been +consumed by them, but you seem to feed upon them, and they nourish you. +When I am intoxicated, not forgetting my hatred, but putting it on one +side for the time being, because there are more beautiful things, I +often name to you one name--Citopomar. Citopomar is not the outcome of +a disordered fancy, the result of a fit of intoxication. It is a virgin +forest in Brazil, far in the interior. It is being cultivated for +me. All the money I can wring from this petty community of miserable +wretches on this side of the world is being employed there. There is my +country, the land in which I shall end my days. First of all, I thought +of myself there with my harem. Now I know it is there I shall be with +_you_. It is a forty days’ journey to the nearest human dwelling, and +the human beings there could not endure life here, but they cannot +be reached, for the Botocudos would not let anyone pass. It is even +possible that my agents, who have been carrying out my plans, may have +deceived me, and that when we arrive there we may find there is no +kingdom of Citopomar. But no one can deceive me about _you_! + +“My professional life here has extended to ever-widening circles, and I +could live a good deal longer under the protection of the State and in +well-ordered society. To-day, however, I had proof that folks are on my +track, and henceforth I must act cautiously. A ship is being built for +me in Genoa. I do not travel by strange ships, but sail under my own +flag. The ship is to be ready on the 1st of June, and on that night we +will embark. Between this and then, however, there is nearly two months +to pass. I cannot rest, and until the very night of our departure I +shall still be a robber chief. + +“We will be wary. You must go to another house. It is quite as well +guarded as this one, but if they should discover this one, they will +catch you. I am probably about to leave the place, and at midnight +to-morrow you will depart. Spoerri will take you to the new home.” + +As incapable of resistance as of mental participation in his schemes, +consumed in the devouring flames of this man’s all-powerful domination, +the Countess endured his conversation and took his orders. Her fate lay +in his hands. + + + + +XVI + + +At nine o’clock next morning Mabuse was at Count Told’s villa. As he +was now endeavouring to hold himself ready for flight at any moment, he +wanted to bring this matter of the Count to an end. + +He had desired him to drink, and for some days now Told had been +drinking, in passionate abandonment. Mabuse looked at him in silence. +When Told was intoxicated he said to him, “You are a person without the +slightest power of resistance. Where is your razor?” + +In a thick voice Told answered that it was on the washstand. + +“Is it sharp?” said Mabuse with a peculiar intonation. “Sharp enough?” +he repeated with an emphasis so marked that it seemed as if he wanted +to hammer an idea into the Count’s head. + +Mabuse took it up, seized a sheet of paper and made a sharp clean cut +in it. Then he said threateningly, “Yes, it is sharp enough.” Thereupon +he laid the razor aside, but did not return it to its case. He called +the servant in, saying to him, “The Count’s condition is not so good as +it was. He is drinking brandy with his Tokay. I have no objection to a +little light Burgundy, but these strong spirits are not to be allowed. +You must take away what is left in the bottle. Your master will ... now +... go ... to sleep!” He uttered the last words in a long-drawn-out, +menacing tone. Then he went out of the room in front of the footman, +and left the house. + +Half an hour later, Count Told, not knowing what he was doing, cut his +throat from ear to ear. He had a feeling as if something in his throat +were preventing him from enjoying some great happiness, and he wanted +to remove the hindrance. + +At two o’clock a message came from Mabuse to ask how the Count was +getting on. The footman said he was asleep, but he would go and look +at him to make sure. Then he found him bathed in blood, where he had +fallen from his arm-chair to the ground, his body now cold in death. +The doctor’s messenger came into the room, looked at the corpse, and +went back to report to his master. + +The man-servant did not know what to do. Since none of the Count’s +relatives were in the neighbourhood and he did not know the Countess’s +address, he felt he must inform the police first of all. But then, +again, he was not sure which was the right office to go to to give +such information, and it occurred to him that the State Attorney, Herr +von Wenk, was an acquaintance of his master’s and had asked after him +recently, so he drove to Munich, sought out the lawyer, and told his +story. + +“Was the Count at home then all the time?” asked Wenk. + +“Yes, sir, all the time.” + +“Then why did you tell me on the telephone that the Count had gone on a +journey?” + +“The doctor told me that on account of my master’s state no one was to +be allowed to see him, and I must tell anybody who inquired that he had +gone away. My master saw nobody but his doctor.” + +“What was the doctor’s name?” + +“I never heard his name, sir. I don’t know it.” + +Then Wenk remembered that Privy Councillor Wendel had given him a +letter to Dr. Mabuse, and that the Count had used Wenk’s own telephone +to make an appointment with this doctor. + +Wenk trembled as, struck by the horror of a strange suspicion, he +described to the footman the figure of Dr. Mabuse as he had seen it +recently at the Four Seasons Hall. He spoke of him as a tall man, +stooping slightly, without beard or moustache, with a broad face and +big nose and large grey eyes. When the man said, “Yes, he looked +exactly like that,” Wenk grew pale as death. In a moment all the +disconnected impressions, hazy ideas, vague recollections, half-defined +thoughts and images which had been partially obliterated, but not +altogether lost, gathered together in his mind. When Wenk had the hall +emptied, why had Dr. Mabuse not asked the reason for this measure? +Why had he not inquired whether he could continue his experiments +at another time? Why had Wenk, who had seen a man whose back he had +recognized go into the hall, not found him again inside? Why had the +two men who would not obey the detective’s order to move on, suddenly +done as they were told immediately Mabuse appeared? Why had Mabuse’s +eyes, in the brief moment he had looked into them, affected him so +powerfully, as if they sought to read something that lay hidden in his +very soul and was now almost forgotten? + +He dismissed Count Told’s servant, and then tried to find Dr. Mabuse’s +number in the telephone book, but it was not given there. Yet Mabuse +had a telephone, for the Count had rung him up from this very house. +The Privy Councillor knew the number. + +When Wenk, having obtained the telephone number from Herr Wendel, gave +it, there was no reply. Ringing up the exchange, he was told that the +telephone had been disconnected. He asked who had had it three weeks +before, but this could not be ascertained at once. + +Again Wenk rang up the Councillor. Dr. Mabuse had changed his number; +did he happen to know his address? Wendel could give no information. +He only knew the telephone number, and spoke to him on the phone. Wenk +then asked at the Police Registry Office for Dr. Mabuse’s address, but +the name was not to be found anywhere among the arrivals in Munich, +and when, at the Municipal Registry, all the old telephone books were +searched to find Mabuse, he was again unsuccessful. + +Thereupon Wenk repaired to the manager of the telephone exchange in +order to make a more thorough search. The manager took him to the +inquiry-room, where two young women were employed, and he asked them +to look again for the number he had telephoned about. + +“What were you wanting?” asked the elder of the two, and Wenk explained +that he was seeking the address of a Dr. Mabuse, who three weeks before +had a telephone number that did not appear in the directory. + +The girl said she could not find it anywhere, whereupon Wenk returned +to the manager with this information. He declared this was something +quite unheard of, and himself accompanied Wenk to the inquiry office. +He, too, made a search with the clerks, but could find nothing. While +the manager was looking through the lists without success, an idea +occurred to Wenk, and when he was informed that no one of the name +of Mabuse had been entered on the list at all for the last year, he +asked the manager for the telephone number and address of a man named +Poldringer. As he uttered this name he saw the elder girl start and +then immediately recover herself, but an instant later she told him +rudely that there were ever so many Poldringers in Munich, and without +the Christian name and the exact address she could not furnish any +information. + +Then Wenk turned to the manager, saying politely, “I am sorry to have +to put you to some inconvenience, but I must take both these ladies +into custody!” + +He at once took up a position between the girls and the telephone. “Be +so good as to sit down on these chairs till the detectives arrive; +you here, and your companion there!” The elder of the girls turned +as white as a sheet. The other blushed, and then began to cry. Wenk +said, turning to her, “It is only a formality. If you behave properly, +this matter can be carried through without exciting notice, and it is +probable that it will not be long before the mystery is cleared up.” +Then he rang up the Criminal Investigation Department and asked for +three detectives. + +The manager looked through the list of Poldringers, for there were many +entries under the name, most of them being tradespeople. One, of whom +no further information was given, was living in the Xenienstrasse, and +another, without any professional status, in the Ludwigstrasse. + +The girls were given in charge, and Wenk went to the Ludwigstrasse. He +came to a lodging-house, looked at the surroundings and inspected the +inside, and then went to the Xenienstrasse. Then suddenly his heart +stood still, for in the Xenienstrasse, at the address given under the +name of Poldringer in the telephone list, he saw on a professional +plate the words + + DR. MABUSE, + _Neurologist_. + +He hastened away, merely noting the numbers of the houses standing +near. The street consisted of detached villas. A mist swam before his +eyes, and the blood pounded in his pulses; there was a sound as of +pistols in his ears. He had his man. No, he had not got him, but at +last he knew who he was! + +Before doing anything else he drove to the prison, for the time Cara +Carozza had demanded had now expired, and what she might tell him would +probably set the seal upon the success of his enterprise. + + * * * * * + +Early that morning, when it was time for the warder of the women’s +prison to make his first round, the door of Cara’s cell was opened. The +dancer was still asleep. She was shaken by the shoulder and, awaking +quickly, found the warder bending over her, yet it was not the warder, +it was Spoerri. Surely she was dreaming? But no, she was still in +prison. How came Spoerri to her bedside? She put her hand to her eyes +to shut out the vision, and yet she knew in her heart it was reality. +Spoerri was standing there. He said to her: + +“Surely you know that I am in league with the warder?” She nodded. +“Then you know, too, that he told me what happened yesterday when the +State Attorney came to see you?” + +“What did he tell you?” the girl asked breathlessly. + +“That you are going to betray the master!” + +The dancer sprang out of bed. “Who says so?” she shouted. + +“Please don’t talk so loudly. The warder says so.” + +“It is a lie.” + +“The warder would have no interest in lying.” + +“Did he tell the doctor so?” she asked anxiously, and Spoerri lied in +answer: + +“Yes, of course he did, and the doctor sent me to you.” + +“It is a lie,” cried Cara again, on the verge of tears; “I was going to +save him!” + +“How can you prove that?” + +“I was going to save him, I tell you. Spoerri, danger is threatening +him.” + +“Danger is always threatening him. That’s mere nonsense. Can you prove +what you say?” + +Cara hastily related what had passed between her and Wenk. Spoerri +answered indifferently: + +“I mean, can you prove it beyond all shadow of doubt? But be quick, +please, for I must get away from here in five minutes.” + +“What can I do to make the doctor believe me?” asked the girl in +despair. + +“I must tell you that the doctor is very disturbed, for he could not +have believed it of you.” + +“No, no, I could never have done it,” she stammered, thoroughly +downcast; “but how am I to prove that I didn’t ... how can I prove it? +Surely _you_ know, Spoerri, that....” + +Then Spoerri with a smile drew out of his pocket a small flask. “The +proof lies there,” he said. + +“Where?” asked the distracted girl. + +“In here, my pretty one; don’t you see?” + +“I don’t understand you,” said the dancer. + +“Oh, you don’t need to understand, my child, only to drink. Just one +little mouthful to swallow and then the doctor will know your word was +to be relied on.” + +Cara looked horrorstruck at the little flask. “What is it?” she asked. + +“A heavenly drink, my pretty one, nothing that hurts one in the least. +The doctor himself made it up. But mind you throw the bottle out of +the window quickly! See, I am opening it for you. Be sure you don’t +forget that! And be quick about it, do you hear? Throw it away _at +once_, for if there’s no bottle to be seen, nobody will know what has +happened. That’s what the doctor expects of you; that is a proof that +no one can doubt. Besides, you know us. Even your husband....” + +With that he drew a knife out of his pocket, playing with it lightly. +He threw it at the door, and it stuck there with the point transfixed. +He pulled it out and put it away again. + +“Do you see that?” he said. “Now I must be going. Well, au revoir!” + +He was about to leave, but Cara sprang towards him and clung to his +knees, sobbing. + +“But I am still so young, and I love life. I have been very useful to +him. I was hoping to be set free ... by him. Set free at any rate, even +if he can never love me again.” + +“Well, I can only tell you,” answered Spoerri, “that he is very much +disturbed about all this. You can take it or leave it.” + +Then the girl said, “Then I will free myself of this existence. I will +show him, a thousand times over, that he can trust me. I will give my +life for him....” + +“Oh, spare me your heroics!” said Spoerri roughly. + +But the girl went on unheeding, “What am I after all?--a mere shadow +following him about and hiding out of his sight, but yet unable to part +from him. Yes, I will prove it, a thousand times over.... I will free +myself....” + +“Well, if we are taken by surprise now, it will be a hanging matter +for us both; he told me so. And who knows whether they won’t even get +_him_?” + +Then Cara became suddenly calm, and said quietly, “It is all right; you +can go. And tell him.... No, you needn’t say anything. I don’t want +anything more from him....” + +Spoerri left hastily, leaving the little flask in Cara’s hand. It was +now warm from her fevered touch. + +“He does not believe me,” she said to herself tremblingly. “The Doctor +will never believe me again. Strange--and yet, can there be any greater +proof to offer that I was always faithful to him? Oh life! base, +incomprehensible, disturbing life! This terrible life of mine! Come!” +she said, apostrophizing the flask; “we will show him there is nothing +to fear from me. We will prove it to you, you ... king of men ... you +enchanting murderer! you sublime destroyer! my horror and my bliss!...” + +She shouted aloud, then she grew fearful lest her cries might endanger +the beloved life, and she snatched the stopper out of the bottle. +Standing upright in the middle of the cell, she drank, a moment later +throwing the bottle out of the window, where the sun streaming in +proclaimed the morning of a new day. + + * * * * * + +Wenk faced the curator of the women’s prison. + +“Yes, sir, we were sorry to be unable to inform you, but it was not +possible to communicate with you. The doctor says it must have been a +heart-stroke, for she was found lying dead in her cell this morning.” + +Amazed and horrified, Wenk entered the cell. It was empty, the straw +pallet bare. Cara’s clothing lay on a stool. Wenk looked round, and +was about to leave when he saw something shining on the window-ledge. +He went back and examined it, and found it was a small piece of glass, +rounded in shape, with a very strong odour clinging to it. Wenk jumped +on a chair and found another piece of glass outside. Then he went down +into the courtyard, and very soon had collected all the other pieces of +the bottle. It had broken against one of the window-bars. He had the +glass tested, and there were evidences of poison upon it. + +He walked back to his chambers--pondering over this new occurrence. +“Another victim!” he said to himself repeatedly. One more sacrifice, a +real sacrifice, for this one had sacrificed herself. This light-of-love +had offered her life as a sacrifice to her love. She had not meant to +tell him anything--he realized that now. She merely wanted to put him +on the wrong track that she might have a chance to warn the criminal. +“I have no success with my women helpers,” he thought sadly, asking how +it was that these steadfast souls should be found on the side of evil +rather than good--always on the side of evil, it seemed to him. When +the dancer was buried next day, he was the only outsider present, and +he returned to his chambers slowly and sadly. + +There, however, plenty of work was awaiting him. His idea was to seize +Dr. Mabuse in his own home, and first of all he must ascertain when he +was sure to be found at home, and the two confederates must be secured +at the same time, the one at the Xenienstrasse and the other in the +Schachen villa; there must be no time for one of them to inform the +other. + +His preparations must be complete, down to the very last detail, and +then a surprise attack, which must not last more than three minutes, +could be made. It was clear that a man who could boldly carry through +such crimes as these, in the very heart of the city and in the teeth +of the highest civil powers, would have secured himself against all +possible emergencies in his own quarters. That was undoubtedly the +case, and all these careful preparations of Wenk’s required time. + +First of all, he must be able to secure one of the neighbouring villas +as his post of observation. It was here that he laid claim to Herr von +Hull’s help. He drove straight to him, asking, “Can you do me a very +great service? Will you employ a confidential agent to lease a floor of +one of the houses No. 26 or 28 in the Xenienstrasse, or, better still, +the whole villa? I want it just as it is, and to be able to go in the +day after to-morrow. The question of expense need not be considered. I +shall want the house for two or three weeks. Spring is approaching, and +there may be someone who wants money for a little trip out of town.” +The old gentleman promised to do what he could in the matter. Then Wenk +asked the police inspector who had engaged him for the road-engine, to +come to town. He arrived by the 11 a.m. express. + +“Matters are approaching a climax, inspector,” said Wenk. “You must be +ready to take action at any moment. I will leave the plan of it to you. +You have had plenty of time to get to know the geography of the place +and the opportunities it affords, but the very moment you receive my +order to surround Villa Elise, you must go at it, hell for leather. You +must get your man, alive or dead. We shall put another motor-boat on +the lake, and you can double your force on shore. The road-engine can +be moved away now. The spring season is just beginning in Schachen, so +you and six or eight of your men can be visitors to the lake-side!” + +At seven o’clock next morning the inspector returned to his post, and +at eleven o’clock old Hull came with the lease of villa 26 in the +Xenienstrasse. + +“There is a young couple living there,” he said, “whom my suggestion +exactly suited. They wanted to go to Switzerland to visit their +parents, but were frightened at the cost of the railway fare. I offered +them five-thousand marks for a month’s rent of the villa, and they +will change them in France. I am afraid I am causing a loss to our +exchange....” + +“But you are benefiting your country in another way, Herr Hull, and +that you will very soon find out!” said Wenk. + +“You can take possession of the villa at six o’clock to-night!” + +At six o’clock, Wenk, disguised as a cyclist messenger, went into the +empty villa, leaving his bicycle outside. He was quite alone in the +house, and at once sought for a window which would afford him vantage +ground. He concealed himself behind a lace curtain and began to watch +the street. The first thing he noticed was that after he had been there +about a quarter of an hour someone stole his bicycle and made off with +it. He had never seen a thief actually at work before; this side of his +calling was presented to him for the first time to-day. He regarded it +as a favourable omen, being much amused by the comic haste with which +the thief had looked round him on all sides, although he was even then +straddling the machine. + +For two hours he kept watch on the front door, side door, window and +roof of Mabuse’s villa. No one went out or in, and though Wenk remained +on the watch till midnight, nothing was to be seen. He fell asleep at +the window, woke and watched again, and then slept once more, finally +awaking in broad daylight. His servant brought him a meal prepared in a +restaurant near. It was a long vigil, and Wenk, bringing the telephone +to the window, held conversations with acquaintances and with some +members of the police force. + +At last, towards six o’clock in the evening, a car drew up and +immediately drove away again. A gentleman went up to the front door. +Was it Mabuse? No, this was an old gentleman, with the feeble and +uncertain step of a paralytic. Possibly he was a patient. + +Soon after that Wenk saw a chimney-sweep leave the house. He went along +quickly and cheerfully, puffing away at a cigarette. Wenk had not seen +the sweep go in; that must have been mere chance, though. The old +invalid seemed to be there a long time; could he be waiting for the +Doctor? Perhaps, though, he was one of his assistants. It seemed hardly +likely. However, he must do nothing rash. + +Twilight was already advanced when a man with a parcel rang at the +front door, which was opened with surprising promptness. Half an hour +later this man came out again, and so it went on. Even through the +night people kept coming and going, and next day it was the same story. + +On the third day Wenk was called up early by his man. The Criminal +Investigation Department had some important information for him. +Something had happened during the night at a gaming-den. Would he like +an official to bring him a report? Yes, he replied, but the detective +should come in some sort of uniform. + +Half an hour later the detective, got up as a telephone repairer, +appeared and told his story. Last night a young man had come to the +guard-room and said that he and others had been playing baccarat in +a secret gaming-house. An old gentleman, who seemed to be partially +paralysed, was playing too, and he always lost his money. When it +was just upon three o’clock in the morning, the old gentleman had +a sudden fit of rage, shouted out something, and immediately three +men, who had also been playing, leaped on the table. They drew out +revolvers, shouting “Hands up!” Then a fourth man went from one visitor +to another, searching their pockets and taking all their money away, +as well as that lying on the table. They had taken twelve thousand +marks from the man who was telling the story. When they came to the +old gentleman they left him alone, and he suddenly stood up and walked +out as if there was nothing the matter with him. Two of the thieves +accompanied him, and the others protected him from behind, and outside +there were two cars waiting. + +This story excited Wenk greatly. It did not interfere with his scheme, +but, on the contrary, it showed that Mabuse felt himself secure. Yet +while Wenk was here in a strange house behind a curtain like a sleepy +bat, the criminal was going his accustomed way, calmly, boldly, as if +he had nothing and nobody to fear. After all, it was quite natural. +Why should he not go free when the man who had sworn to bring him to +justice was in hiding here behind a window curtain! + +Taking a sudden resolve, Wenk left his post, and did not return till +evening. He had given an order to extinguish the street-lamp in front +of Mabuse’s house by breaking the glass and damaging the electric light +bulb. It was a dark night, and as soon as Mabuse’s windows showed no +light Wenk entered the garden. He was carrying a canister filled with +fine meal, and he clambered over the fence into Mabuse’s grounds and +went cautiously along the garden path, scattering the meal in a thin +layer over part of the short walk between the garden gate and the +house. Then he hurried back over the fence to his own garden and into +No. 26 again. + +Half an hour later someone left Mabuse’s house, but Wenk could not see +who. After an hour and a half, he heard steps in the street passing +beneath his window. He saw a man wearing military dress, who went +quickly to Mabuse’s door and disappeared within the house. + +Wenk went downstairs again and hid behind a shrub in the garden. After +a long time he heard Mabuse’s front door open, and in the starlight he +could see that a stout, elderly lady was leaving the house. She went +into the street, where a car seemed to spring up from nowhere. She got +into it and drove rapidly away. + +Wenk clambered over the hedge between his and Mabuse’s garden, crept on +all fours over the grass to the garden path, and examined the ground +by the help of his electric torch. Then he saw that the footsteps of +all three persons were exactly the same. Therefore, whoever it was who +came out first, and the soldier, and the elderly lady, were one and the +same person. And then it occurred to him that yesterday and the day +before yesterday the chimney-sweep, the paralytic, the messenger with +his parcel, were the same person, and this person was--Mabuse. Wenk +carefully removed the traces of the meal. + +To-night must lead to some conclusion or other. In both the nearest +guardrooms special police were ready, fully armed, prepared to break +in at any moment. When Wenk knew Mabuse to be safe at home, he would +hasten to No. 26, send a telephone call, and three minutes later +Mabuse’s house would be surrounded by police. To burst the door would +be the work of thirty seconds. Six men would remain outside and +surround the house. The other six would join him in a rush on the +place. When Mabuse was secured, the order to Schachen would go through. + +Wenk stole rapidly back to his own garden, stretched himself flat on +the ground and waited. The earth radiated the warmth of this day of +late spring, and he felt the power that lay in the soil. And in an +attitude of tense expectancy, two hours, one hour, perhaps even minutes +only before his work would be crowned with success, it seemed to Wenk +as if music, a music betraying the secrets of all hearts, stole over +his senses. Tears filled his eyes, and his bare fingers caressed the +fragrant ground. He felt as if it were the very essence of manhood laid +bare, the manhood for which he was risking his life. + +He had decided to lie here waiting until Mabuse, in some disguise or +other, should return to the house. Nothing could go wrong now. When the +other was once more inside, like a mouse caught in a trap, Wenk would +hasten back and breathe his order into the telephone. + +But before this could happen he was to undergo a strange experience, +something which made his heart stand still and a cry by which he had +almost betrayed himself pass his lips. A car came up the street, and +stopped with a noisy shriek in front of the house. But no one got out. +No, it was Mabuse’s door which opened, and in the person descending the +steps, and pausing in the glow of the headlights, Wenk recognized the +Countess. + +If he had not pressed his lips to the ground that very instant, his +cry must have betrayed him. The car hastened back whence it had come. +“Wife-robber! Husband-murderer!” raged Wenk. So this was the secret of +Count Told’s death. “The man is a devil and a werwolf!” he cried. + +Suddenly he felt the cold night penetrating his clothing, and he found +himself trembling. Was he going to have an attack of ague now, at the +very last minute? He struggled to subdue the feelings that threatened +to overcome him. In the still night he heard the hammering of the +pulses in his brain, and he bent all his energies to the task of +listening for what was to happen. + +Twelve o’clock struck, and it seemed as if the town were shaken by the +powerful strokes, as if these beats must penetrate into the very heart +of this house which sheltered the monster, and every vibration become a +dagger hacking him to pieces. + +The clock had ceased striking, and a footstep sounded, but whether near +or far-off Wenk could not at first determine, for the throbbing in his +ears. Suddenly the garden gate creaked, and in the starlight he saw a +broad expanse of white shirt-front. A man advanced rapidly to Mabuse’s +door, and in the instant that he stood on the doorstep, waiting for it +to open, the starlight revealed to Wenk that the figure was that of the +man he was seeking. And now the net was closing around the victim. + +Wenk waited three minutes, four minutes. Would not the world come to +an end during these moments? Might not the skies fall, and the last +judgment begin? + +Then he pulled himself together and climbed stiffly over the fence +to return to No. 26. He rushed upstairs in the darkness, seized the +telephone, called for the number and gave the guard-room the orders he +had arranged. He had but to name the street and give the number of the +house, which till now he had kept a secret. + +A motor-cyclist was to go to the second guard-room directly the +telephone message was received. The car containing the first relay of +police was to follow him immediately, and at the second guard-room +those aroused by the cyclist’s warning were to be ready to get in the +car and proceed with the others at full speed to the villa. Thus it had +been arranged. + +After Wenk had telephoned he hastened downstairs again. He stood in +the dark entrance, waiting for the first sound of the approaching car. +Was he not consumed with fever? No, he bit his lips firmly, made his +muscles taut and commanded himself to keep cool. He must be cold and +hard as steel. Steel it should be! + +He had not long to wait. + + + + +XVII + + +The house was surrounded by the police who had been detailed for that +duty, while Wenk with the others hastened to the front door and rang +the bell loudly, but the explosive was already prepared. Mabuse had +not yet gone to bed. The unusual noise in the street had sent him to +the spy-hole in the shutters, whence he could see what was happening, +and the first glance revealed the police. While he was still looking +through his peep-hole, and letting nothing of the happenings outside +escape his eye, since the searchlights illuminated everything in the +street, he was taking down from the cupboard close by, where it hung in +readiness, a police uniform. + +He heard the ringing at the door. He had a telephone concealed in the +wall, and this George had connected with a villa at the back of his +garden. He pressed the connection and called, “Spoerri!” + +“Yes, Doctor.” + +“The police are about to break in. Make your escape as arranged. Fetch +the Countess. Get the new car ready for me. Burn all papers. Send +pigeon-post to Schachen. That’s all.” While still speaking, he began +hastily to put on the police uniform over his own clothes. + +Then there was the sound of explosion, and the door was broken open, a +chair flying into the air. With one bound Mabuse was in the corridor. +When the explosion occurred he was on the first floor, which was shut +off from the stairway. + +Close behind the first of the police who entered through the shattered +door came Wenk, a heavy revolver in his hand. He was at once struck +by the style of the interior, its beautiful carvings and its costly +Persian carpets. He took this in at the very first glance as he hurried +by. He pointed in silence to the stairs, and while those behind went +up them, he and some others inspected the three doors leading to the +basement. All were locked, and in a few minutes they had been burst +open. The police rushed through all the rooms; one, trying to turn on +the electric light, found that it was cut off. + +Six policemen had stormed the stairs. The door in the panelled wall +of the first floor leading from the stairs was open. The men advanced +beyond it into a dark corridor, holding their revolvers cocked, and +touching all the objects they encountered in the darkness. Nowhere was +there any electric light to be had, and it was some time before they +had enough electric torches to suffice them. Then in a moment they +had taken possession of all the rooms, and the doors leading to the +corridor were shut behind them by the detectives, who removed the keys. +Wherever they found the rooms empty, they hacked upon the chests and +cupboards. Mabuse heard the sounds, which made his usually silent house +as noisy as a factory. + +When furnishing the house he had had a little secret chamber made +near the doorway leading to the first floor. A carpenter belonging +to his band of accomplices had done the work. This chamber was so +cunningly concealed in the cleverly contrived decoration of the walls +as to be invisible from the corridor outside, and on the inner side +the existence of a door would never have been suspected. It was here +that Mabuse had concealed himself when he heard the explosion that +wrecked his front door. In this hiding-place he had a second telephone +connecting him with the other villa. While the noise of the men +storming the stairs covered his movements, he tried to make use of +this connection, but there was no answer from the other end; therefore +Spoerri must already have got away. + +Now came the moment when everything must be risked, and the chances of +escape or of death were equal. The little chamber had a second door, +and this, concealed like the other by the decoration of the panelling, +opened directly on to the stairs. It was here that Mabuse stood to +listen. + +He subdued all his senses with the supernatural powers at his command, +subordinating them to his hearing; rustlings, voices, hackings, cries, +abuse, orders, the clicking of electric torches, even the spitting +sound of the acetylene searchlights, were inscribed on his ear-drum +as on a microphone. His powers of hearing must be concentrated on one +single moment, and that was the first second, or fraction of a second, +in which there should be neither step, nor sound, nor even breathing +upon the stairs. If this instant occurred before the systematic search +of the house, room by room, had begun, it would give him a favourable +opportunity, his only opportunity, for flight. It seemed as if the very +blood in his veins stood still, the better to help him discover the +fateful moment. All the other senses were in abeyance, and his will +concentrated on his hearing alone. He felt as if his ear were as large +as the Lake of Constance and his hearing as fine as the vibration of a +filament in an electric light. Everything else within him was cold as +ice, and anæsthetized, but his ear bore a volcanic life within it, and +at last he reached that single heart-beat of time which should prove +his salvation. + +He pushed open the narrow door on to the stairs. Until he had +reconnoitred he ran a risk that his ear might have deceived him, but he +saw at once that all was well. + +In the corridor below a constable was standing. As he passed him, +Mabuse cried, “He has shut himself into the bathroom....” + +Then he saw them all running from the rooms downstairs and pressing +to the staircase. Two men stood at the entrance, in the midst of the +fragments of the shattered door. “I am going for reinforcements,” +said Mabuse as he approached them; “he has entrenched himself in the +bathroom....” + +They let him pass, and he ran, using one hand to brush others aside, +the other grasping his Browning pistol. Yes, he was getting away now.... + +The night was bright with the searchlights, and their rays spoke to +him of freedom and good luck. Dazzling, enchanting visions floated +before his spirit. He drank in deep draughts of the light outside. + +“What’s up?” asked one of the men outside as he rushed out. + +“His honour’s orders ... reinforcements wanted; he’s entrenched himself +in the bathroom,” called Mabuse in reply. + +“Take the motor-cycle,” shouted the other. + +What luck! Mabuse already had it between his legs. He fell upon it, +mounted, feeling as if he had fallen from a tower on to a bed of down, +and the night, like a friendly monster, swallowed him up, protecting +him alike from the searchlights and from the violence with which the +search-party would have seized him. + +A quarter of an hour later he threw the motor-cycle into the canal and +rode away on his little racing car as if sailing upon a cloud. The car +stretched its nozzle towards the south-west and away it bounded in +delight along the boulevard. It was an armoured car.... + + * * * * * + +“What is the matter?” Wenk asked the police as they rushed past him. + +“He is in the bathroom, and has entrenched himself,” one of them called +back. + +Wenk ran up the stairs. “Where is he?” he cried. + +“In the bathroom,” they shouted on all sides. “All hands to the +bathroom,” ordered Wenk. + +They ran hither and thither, and their pocket-torches could be seen +gleaming on the walls in all directions. Where are they all going? To +the bathroom. Fifteen men are hastening to the bathroom. “But where +_is_ the bathroom?” Wenk inquired. Nobody knew where the bathroom was. +And now everyone was shouting out, “Halloa, what’s up?” + +The electric switches were overhead, and a turn of the loosely fastened +screws now gave dazzling light to the whole place. The rooms were +brilliant in their wealth and luxuriance--pictures, hangings, carpets, +bronzes, furniture. The bathroom was found at last, and the bath in it +was of Carrara marble, but the whole house was empty and deserted. + +Wenk was almost beside himself. He felt like an empty shaft, down which +everything good and beautiful and all that was lofty and successful +had fallen into a bottomless abyss. They tapped the walls with their +hatchets, suspecting some hidden space, and soon the secret nook was +discovered and the riddle solved. + +Wenk pulled himself together. There was yet another mouse-hole, and it +was in Schachen, at the Villa Elise! + +The State Attorney made rapid arrangements at the telephone +headquarters. All the lines were connected up with him, and everything +had been prepared beforehand. The highroads from Munich in all +directions were guarded by police. The stretch of country between +Munich and Lindau had eight posting-stations, and at every one there +was a telephone ready at any moment throughout the night to inform +Munich of anything that had happened there. + +Wenk raised the alarm in all directions. Mabuse’s stratagem had given +him a half-hour’s start. If things had happened as he imagined, and the +car of the fugitive were now eighty or ninety kilometres away, there +was yet ten minutes before Buchloe could announce its passing through. +He had hardly reckoned up the distance, however, when he heard “Buchloe +speaking!” and his heart sang for joy. + +“A car has just gone through at terrific speed in the direction of +Kempten. It is a large covered car.” + +It was 2.10 a.m., and a quarter of an hour later came the Kaufbeuren +report. + +“A large covered car, travelling about eighty kilometres an hour, has +just passed, and taken the Kempten road.” + +It was now 2.25 a.m. Wenk began rapidly to make calculations as to the +speed of the car, but just then Buchloe rang up again: “A second car +has just come through, a small, open car with one person in it!” Ten +minutes later Kaufbeuren gave the same report. + +“They are escaping in sections. The second car is going faster. Mabuse +must be in that one, and his accomplices in the first,” thought Wenk. + +From Obergünzburg he had the announcement of both cars in the one +communication, for the second went through just as the official had +informed him about the first. Buchenberg told him the same. + +Then Wenk thought it time to call up Schachen. He gave directions to +await the arrival of the two cars and then take action according to the +plan arranged. The man whom it was above all important to secure would +probably be in the uniform of a Munich constable, and they were not to +be misled by this, for it would be Mabuse. + +“Now we have him at last,” said Wenk jubilantly, as he received one +communication after another, all of them proving that Schachen was the +destination aimed at. + +Place after place stood out on the map to Wenk, and through the night +the villages and tiny towns called to him and ranged themselves on his +side. He bound them together with phantom threads, reaching to the very +limits of the Empire. He wrung the secret of the broad highroad out of +it in the darkness, and the highroad knew nothing of its revelation. +With one small lever he held the long, unending avenue, shrouded in +darkness, in the hollow of his hand. The forces he had disposed were +obedient to him, their general. + +“Hergatz” rang on the telephone, and the sound of its bell seemed to +his ears as intimate as if it were his own name being called. + +“Yes,” he said, “it is the State Attorney, Wenk, speaking from Munich. + +“A little open car has just gone by very rapidly in the Lindau +direction. Two persons were in it, but not clearly recognized.” + +“Thank you. Hold on a minute. There will be a second car through.” + +Wenk waited, hearing in the suspended lines all the sounds occurring +through the night between Munich and a little place like Hergatz, which +he had never yet visited. + +“Are you still connected?” he asked after a while. + +“Yes, sir.” + +“Hasn’t the second car come through?” + +“Not yet, sir.” + +After a time he inquired again, and once more he was told No. + +A quarter of an hour later he rang up Hergatz again, and the official +said that no second car had been seen. + +Wenk opened out the map again and made a feverish search. Yes: +Buchenberg--Isny--Gestratz--Opfenbach ... there was Hergatz! And +behind Isny there was a highroad leading to Wangen and the Würtemberg +district, or on the left another leading to Austria. + +He rang up Wangen, but there was no answer. He repeated the call, and +after storming for ten minutes he tried again, but still in vain. He +had left Wangen out of his reckoning and made no plans concerning it, +and in the direction of Austria he could give no orders, for the power +of his lever did not extend so far. A car had disappeared from his +ken; a car had been stolen from him in the night, snatched away in the +darkness from the strange, unfriendly, gloom-surrounded streets. + +And then he thought again that the large car might have had a +breakdown. Yes, it must have been so, and that was why the smaller car +had two people in it, when there was only one at the previous stage. +This new circumstance need not worry him. His luck was not going to +desert him: he trusted to it, and it would not fail. + +He rang up Schachen. “There will probably be only one car. Let it +arrive, and then wait twenty minutes to see whether the other one +comes, and surround the villa on all sides. Then deliver your blow, as +hard as you can!” + +Scarcely had he finished speaking when the telephone rang once more, +and the last stage--the Enisweiler railway-station--was heard speaking. +A small, open car had turned off the Lindau-Friedrichshafen road, and +was rapidly approaching Schachen. Two people were in it. + +It was all complete! Wenk himself could do nothing more now. He would +have to wait. Perhaps in a few moments now the fight on the lake-side +which his tactics had prepared might be going on. He ordered them not +to wait for the second car, but to enter the villa immediately after +the arrival of the occupants of the first one, to seize and handcuff +them, extinguish the lights, and wait a full hour for the second one. +He looked at his watch, and laid it on the table before him. It was now +3.18 a.m. + +He felt a twitching in the muscles of hands and feet and a throbbing +in his brain. It seemed as if a whirlwind of pain were rising from his +hips to his head, remaining there a while, and then taking the same +direction again and again, times without number. + + + + +XVIII + + +Spoerri had fetched the Countess from the villa in the western suburbs, +which she had occupied but half an hour, and hurried off with her in +the car. Mabuse, in his light little two-seater, had caught up the +heavier car between Kaufbeuren and Günzburg, and both drove on without +stopping. This had all been arranged between them long before. Where +the road to Wangen diverged from the Lindau road, the large car ahead +came to a standstill, and the little car drove close up. The Countess +was transferred; Mabuse drove on, and Spoerri took the road leading to +Austria. + +Mabuse had arranged that at this point their roads should separate. +Spoerri should reach Switzerland by way of the Rhine. Each of them must +leave an address in Zürich with Dr. Ebenhügel, who could then exchange +them. Mabuse, with the Countess, would drive to the Villa Elise, where +George, who had been instructed by pigeon-post, would be waiting with +the chest containing the securities and the jewels Mabuse would take +with him on his flight. Then the three of them would immediately cross +the lake to Luxburg, where a motor would be in waiting, and proceed +along the Romanshorn main road to Zürich. There would be a brief stop +at Zürich for the transaction of business. + +It was likely that the authorities in Bavaria would ask the Swiss ones +to search for the fugitives, and therefore Mabuse wanted to make his +stay in Switzerland as brief as possible, and to push on to the Italian +frontier. He had had passes for himself and the Countess prepared in +a Portuguese surname. An Italian official had been bribed, and by his +help all difficulties disappeared as chaff before the wind. + +The Countess sat at the back of the car, behind its high body. In +front of her Mabuse, sitting at the wheel, seemed like some monumental +image. In the uncertain light the outlines of his powerful figure stood +out with ghostly effect. There was not the slightest movement to be +seen, and from her seat behind he looked like a block of granite, seen +standing alone in a meadow. + +They sped by highways, villages, hamlets, and then the waters of the +lake gleamed in the night. A few lights at intervals on its shores, +shapes appearing and disappearing in the darkness, dimly suggesting +human beings, a change in the air one breathed ... two villages +appearing to float like illuminated ships upon the water ... there was +Switzerland already. + +Lindau lay to the side, and their car was now racing along roads +bordered by country villas. And then came the last minute. The car +bounded across the track to the Enisweiler station, and rushed forward +to the Villa Elise. At the first glance Mabuse’s sharp eyes saw that +the gates opening on to the drive stood wide open. + +The pigeon-post had arrived safely and in good time then. He felt as if +the impetuous haste with which he had driven hither in the darkness +had yielded him a fresh sensation. It was now just before 3.30 a.m., +and he kept his senses constantly on the alert without slackening his +speed. When he was about to turn into the drive, he pressed the brakes +hard for a moment before allowing the car to run its course; it held up +for an instant, then, veering round, went straight through the gates +and turned towards the garden. + +Just then he felt something spring on to the car. On the clutch side, +springing over the door, a form squeezed down on the outer side of +Mabuse. Two hands covered his own, snatched the steering-gear from him, +and a wild, hoarse, impressive voice whispered, “Doctor, I’m here: it’s +George. Give me the wheel. We are surrounded. Straight forward into the +lake....” + +Mabuse yielded the wheel and let go the brakes. Under its new guide the +car dashed ahead, thundered round the grey walls of the villa, abruptly +turned a corner, got on to a grass-plot, and raced frantically across +it, along the sloping gravel patch to the wall which divided the lake +from the garden above. Through the gate in the wall it leaped like a +wild horse and then clattered down the inclined wooden footway, the +boards thundering beneath it. A moment later its nose was in the water +and the lake hissing around it. + +George leant forward as quick as lightning and gripped levers, Mabuse +helping him. The night re-echoed the Countess’s cry, and then the +vehicle, tottering slightly at first, but slowly righting itself, went +onward over the surface of the water. + +“Splendid!” cried George. “It is working like magic!” + +This car was an invention of his own. It could be driven straight from +the highroad into the water without stopping, and a couple of levers +turned it at once into a motor-boat. + +“It is the pigeons that have done the mischief,” said George, when he +had gained thorough control of his vessel. “After they arrived in the +dark, about an hour ago, I seemed to hear whispering voices behind +a shrubbery. I looked very carefully round, and thought I noticed a +movement going all round the park. In one place, and then twenty paces +further on, and then twenty paces beyond that again, in a circle, the +whole way round, so then I knew we were surrounded. However, I managed +to get to the gate leading to the garden without being seen. It took me +fifty minutes to do the hundred yards. If we had not had this car, we +should now be sitting handcuffed inside the Villa Elise.” + +The constables, who had distributed themselves with all possible +precautions about the villa, and had taken four hours to complete the +ring around it, one after another taking up his position, had heard +the car thundering along through the silent night. They lay in tense +expectation at their posts, awaiting the whistle which should summon +them to the house to fall upon the criminals. + +Just an hour before there had been a slight interruption. A bird had +suddenly flown through a tree and disappeared beneath the eaves. One +of the constables close to the house had noticed it. He had seen +the bird fluttering about the roof and then suddenly disappearing +without having flown away elsewhere. His conjecture that it was a +carrier-pigeon was soon confirmed by the appearance of a second bird, +which also disappeared in the eaves. The constable stole softly to the +inspector and announced what he had seen and suspected. The latter saw +at once what this might indicate. Poldringer had received warning from +Munich, from the fugitives. He therefore ordered a constable to proceed +with the utmost caution from one outpost to another and relate the +fact, saying that those in the house had probably been warned, and that +they must redouble their precautions and at the same time be prepared +for stronger resistance. + +The movements of the constable as he went from post to post had put +George on his guard.... Mabuse’s car reached the grounds, and the +inspector’s quivering fingers were already raising the whistle to his +mouth. At the moment when the occupants of the car should have left it +and be about to close the door of the house behind them, he meant to +give the signal. Two detectives were lying concealed in the shrubs to +the left of the front door, and could reach it before the key was even +turned in the lock, but the inspector gave no sign. + +The car rushed round the corner, not stopping at the door. It tore +frantically round the house as if about to rush pell-mell into the +Lake. The inspector, forgetting all caution in the excitement and +disappointment of the moment, sprang forward after it, and saw that +it actually did disappear in the water. Like a sinister amphibian it +leaped over the low wall, thundered down the wooden footway and sprang +into the Lake. + +Then at last he blew his whistle, and the posse of constables came +running from all directions, knocking up against each other. + +“To the shore!” shouted the sergeant. + +There was no car to be seen anywhere. About two hundred yards from the +shore the engines of a motor-boat could be heard in the darkness. They +searched beneath the roadway, up and down the lake-side, dazed and +disappointed, but in vain. + +Then at last the inspector realized what must have happened. The +unceasing efforts, strain and hopes of an entire month had come to +nought. His prize capture had escaped him. He was so absolutely +disheartened by this maddening thought that he unconsciously pressed to +his temples the revolver that he held ready-cocked in his hand, as if +his very life must be forfeit through the failure of his enterprise. A +moment later he lowered the revolver, and the ball, singeing his hair, +fell harmless into the night. Upon the Lake a light shone out. Further +on, another. The shot had aroused the attention of the spy-boats. + +Not till then did the inspector remember these allies, whom in his +first access of despair he had completely forgotten. “Bring Morse +lamps!” he cried. How _could_ he have overlooked the motor-boats? + +Immediately flashes were sent to the two boats: “The fugitives have +escaped, and are on a motor-boat on the lake.” + +“All right,” was flashed back, and a few minutes later powerful +searchlights were directed towards the lake. It was not long before +they had located the escaping boat. But they had also warned it, for at +that very moment it was about to run into them. + + * * * * * + +Mabuse and George were at once aware of their danger. The two +searchlights advancing on them seemed like the open jaws of a monster +approaching to devour them. George steered to larboard, and the boat +settled its course in a new direction. The water streamed over the +rudder and gleamed about them, frothing in the darkness. “There is only +one way,” said Mabuse in a low voice, “the Rhine estuary.” + +He considered the matter coolly and boldly. He was once more in a +situation quite familiar to him, because he had lived through and +overcome it countless times in imagination. On the German shore, +whither they could easily return, everyone would be on the lookout for +them. On the Austrian shore there was only Bregenz, shown up clearly +by the searchlights. Between these two regions there was a large and +very sparsely inhabited territory around the Rhine estuary. In twenty +minutes they could reach land and then make their choice between +Switzerland and Austria. If they were lucky enough to run their vehicle +on to land again as easily as they had run it into the water, they +would have sufficient start to make their escape certain. + +One of the pursuing boats, however, lay right out in the lake. It +seemed to guess at the fugitives’ intentions, for it did not follow +them in a direct line, but remained to starboard, keeping abreast of +them near the Swiss shore, as if awaiting a favourable opportunity to +intercept them. + +Perhaps it only wanted to keep between them and Switzerland. The +searchlights from both boats met above Mabuse’s. The first faint traces +of daylight were already appearing. Firing was heard behind them. One +of the boats now followed in their wake, but at a little distance to +the rear. The two pursuing boats exchanged Morse signals with each +other. + +For a time George steered a zigzag course, the vehicle swaying hither +and thither with the constantly changing displacement of the rudder. +George wanted to make it appear that he was trying to break through to +the Swiss shore, but he, too, was excited by the searchlights. He did +not succeed in getting out of their glare for more than a few moments +at a time. The boat which was astern only went so slowly now because it +was solely concerned with keeping them under view and cutting off their +retreat to the German shore. The Morse signals used were secret ones, +and neither Mabuse nor George could make them out although, through +their frequent trips by water, they were fairly well acquainted with +such things. + +Suddenly the boat to the starboard side of them extinguished its +searchlight. Above the infernal noise made by their own motor they +could hear the engine of this boat ahead, its sound growing shriller +and nearer. Their own motor was exerting its utmost pressure. The +shooting had now ceased, and above the sounds made by their boat +another noise could be heard. Mabuse bent forward towards it, listening +with all his ears, the searchlight falling full upon him. He still +wore the police uniform which had made his escape possible. + +At first the Countess had lain in the boat half-conscious. The shots, +the droning of the engines, the haste and excitement of the men +beside her, had gradually awakened her, and she began to grasp what +was happening. She, too, heard, above the throbbing of the engines, +a second sound. She sat up, holding her head over the side whence it +came, and listened intently. + +“What is that?” she asked Mabuse, who was standing near, planted firmly +on the deck with his back to the engine and appearing entirely at +ease. He could be clearly seen in the searchlight with his hand on the +gunwale, listening intently. + +“Nothing!” he hissed; “be quiet!” + +“What is it?” she asked again in a sharper tone, and there was +something in the sound of her voice that had not been heard for a +long time. It seemed as if a stone that had long lain at her heart +were now being dissolved into a mass of pulp. To this feeling, still +but half-conscious, she yielded herself more and more. By degrees she +appeared to realize what was happening within her. Then, rising and +standing in front of Mabuse, she suddenly cried out, “Now, at last....” + +The sounds of the water and the night stole over her like a joy beyond +bound or measure. Eagerly she absorbed with heart and mind the light, +sweet rustle they made, and she perceived that every moment they became +more pronounced. At last she understood. The pursuer was advancing +rapidly upon them, and came ever nearer.... + +“What do you mean by that ‘at last’?” asked Mabuse roughly. “Sit down +and keep quiet!” + +“What is that sound we hear?” she said in a ringing voice. + +“Death--perhaps!” answered Mabuse calmly. + +“For _you_!” cried the woman facing him, above the swirling of the +waters. “I shall be able to shake you off at last. I shall be saved +from you. The werwolf will be caught, and your power over me and over +others be at an end!” + +“I will soon show you that,” said Mabuse, advancing and bending over +her; and then what happened came so quickly that she could scarcely +distinguish the movements. + +“George!” called Mabuse, the one word only, and then he unfastened +the police uniform which concealed his clothing and threw it towards +George, who at once donned it and stood near the Countess, exposing +himself to the searchlight, while Mabuse took his place at the wheel. + +They heard a shout close to them. “Halt!” cried a voice from out the +sounds her eager ears had been absorbing. “Halt!” A shot whizzed in the +air, and an echo resounded. + +George fired in return. The boat gave an upward lurch and then suddenly +two high dams enclosed it. Where was the lake? Where was the wide +expanse of night? There was a rustling sound, and a beating against the +spring tides of the Rhine. The searchlight had disappeared, and a soft, +warm mist covered the stream and the dams. They were smooth as railway +lines, and a bridge lay diagonally above them. The throbbing of the +engine resounded from its arched vault. + +Then a sudden movement flung the Countess to the ground. The boat +sprang up into the air with a loud report, but the woman was caught +as she fell; she could feel herself lifted; someone held her, and ran +swiftly with her; her cries were stifled, and a red mist swam before +her eyes. + + * * * * * + +George lay on the shore, one arm broken. With the sound one he felt for +the police helmet and crammed it down on his head. The fall had stunned +him slightly, but he could have escaped; nevertheless, he lay still. + +It was not long before he saw two revolvers levelled at him. Two +electric torches glared before his eyes. “We’ve got the one in +uniform!” said a voice. George kept quite quiet. He was carried from +the land into a boat and fettered to a thwart. The engine started, and +the boat drove across the lake back to Schachen. + +The day was dawning when George reached the wooden landing-stage once +more. They took him into the villa and locked him into a room with +barred windows, out of which he could not escape, even had two men not +been in charge of him. + +The inspector said to himself, “Thank God, we have caught him at last, +and in his police uniform too! thank God!” + + * * * * * + +At five o’clock that morning Wenk left Munich in a hydroplane, landing +two hours later at Schachen. He flew up the stairs of the Villa Elise +to reach the room where the imprisoned robber-king was waiting ... +waiting for _him_, the conqueror! + +“Here is Dr. Mabuse,” called out the inspector, advancing towards him. +“We have him safe at last, thank God!” + +Wenk, jubilant, victorious, and intoxicated with success, entered the +room and saw the man in police uniform fast bound to his chair. + +“Where is he?” he asked. + +“There ... on that chair!” + +Wenk looked at the man more closely. He knew it already: his quarry had +escaped! Back into the endless, the dark and empty night, everything +fell once more, and at first he could neither hear nor speak a word. + +Suddenly the inspector said, “But that is Poldringer, the man we’ve +been watching all these weeks!” + +“Yes, that is Poldringer,” answered Wenk heavily. Mabuse had escaped. + + + + +XIX + + +Mabuse hastily carried the insensible woman from the bank of the Rhine +channel to the nearest house. It was that of an osier-binder. + +“We have had an accident,” said Mabuse, and then seated himself at the +window to watch the approach. + +When an hour had gone by thus, and the Countess opened her eyes again, +Mabuse noticed that she started on recognizing him and turned away, +overcome with dread. He went hastily towards her and, stooping down, he +whispered, “We are saved! We are irrevocably bound together!” + +The whispered words impressed her with a certain sense of comfort and +security. She no longer withstood him, and soon sat up, the peasant’s +wife promising to look after her. + +Mabuse sought for the nearest village on the map. Then he went thither, +in security, knowing that he was not being followed. George had +remained as the victim of the pursuer’s vengeance, and he was saved. +The other’s fate was due to the little trick of the police uniform. + +The village was not more than twenty minutes’ distance, and in an inn +he found a telephone. He ordered coffee, and then rang up Zürich. In +half an hour’s time the call came through, and asking who was there, he +was answered, “Dr. Ebenhügel, Zürich.” + +“Has Spoerri arrived?” he inquired. + +“Spoerri has just come: he is still here;” and Spoerri rushed to the +telephone. + +“Spoerri, I’ve had a misfortune. George is taken, but we have escaped. +Bring the car here at once, and put in a travelling dress and coat for +my wife. I shall expect you at 2 p.m. at the Au railway-station in the +Rhine Valley.” + +“Very good, sir,” replied Spoerri. + +“I called her my wife, and said it quite coolly and intentionally,” +mused Mabuse, dallying with the thought, which yet seemed to imply +something like a fetter; but he dismissed the idea, saying, “She _is_ +my wife, my own property!... It is true, she _is_ mine.” + + * * * * * + +Spoerri arrived punctually. “I shall drive you through the Engadine +direct to the Italian frontier,” he said, when Mabuse had told him all +that had occurred. But to that proposal Mabuse merely uttered one word: +“No!” + +“But, Doctor,” Spoerri pleaded, “you can’t remain in Switzerland. The +Munich police have informed the authorities here of your movements. We +shouldn’t get even as far as Toggeburg. It would be almost better to +return to Germany.” + +“And that’s exactly what I mean to do! Spoerri, from this day forward +the State Attorney’s life stands under my protection. You are to revoke +my earlier orders to the Removal Committee at once.” + +“You are going in for a remarkable friendship, Doctor,” tittered +Spoerri. + +“He is to remain absolutely under my protection!” repeated Mabuse, and +they drove through the flat marsh-land back to the peasant’s hut. + +The Countess got into the car, and they were soon hastening to the +Austrian frontier. “What sort of passports have you for us?” asked +Mabuse. + +“Swiss ones: please take them,” answered Spoerri, handing over +documents with many visas, calculated to arouse a confidence which was +constantly abused yet remained unconscious of the fact. + +Three hours later the car was driving along the highroad leading from +Bregenz to Kempten. It drove past a house from which, the night before, +a message had been flashed through to Munich telling of its passing, +and went towards Würtemberg. The travellers spent the night in a +village south of Stuttgart. + +In the evening Mabuse went to Spoerri’s room, and said to him: “There +is just one thing left for me to do in Germany, in Europe ... and that +is to get hold of that lawyer, the State Attorney, Wenk, alive. I +want him _alive_, mark you! as much alive as a fly under a glass. The +Countess and I are staying here to-morrow. You will go to Stuttgart and +buy, whatever the price may be, a two-seater aeroplane. We are quite +safe here. The landlord did not even register us, so if the police +appear he is bound to hold his tongue, or else he will be fined. Have +you any brandy?” + +Spoerri shrank back in dismay; his martyrdom was about to begin again. +Nevertheless, he had smuggled three bottles out of Switzerland. + +“Of course you have some brandy!” said Mabuse, before he could even +answer. + +Mabuse drank from the travelling cup which he always carried in his +pocket, and Spoerri had to fill the toothglass on the washhandstand. + +Mabuse was longing for a carouse, a really heavy carouse which should +seize him by the throat and press him under the water, as if he were +being given a millstone for a swimming belt. When he had emptied the +second bottle, he saw that he was not likely to get his wish. + +“Haven’t you any more?” he asked. + +“That’s all there is. I couldn’t venture to bring any more across the +frontier.” + +Mabuse laughed satirically. “That’s fine. Here is Spoerri, who has +brought three railway vans full of salvarsan, two of cocaine, enough +prostitutes to fill three brothels across the frontier, yet he hasn’t +enough courage to bring more than three bottles of brandy! Empty your +glass into mine. Don’t your wages include the getting of brandy?” + +When the third bottle had been emptied Mabuse, clear-headed as ever, +but more hot-blooded, went back to the room next his own, occupied by +the Countess. He was out of sorts, and resembled an engine that had +been run too fast, so that the heat had covered the glowing cylinders +with vapour, and they could not be set in motion. + +He approached the Countess’s bed. “You and I had come to an +understanding together. You have broken through it: you were ready to +betray me!” + +“I was!” said the Countess in a low voice. + +Then ungovernable fury seemed to possess the man. He snatched her from +the bed, and as he seized her, lifted her high in the air as if he were +going to dash her in pieces against the wall like rotting timber. At +that moment he hated her; she was the embodiment of all his weaknesses. +For ten long minutes, when the patrol-boat was on their track, the +power of his will over her had ceased, and now, when he wanted to +destroy her and would have dashed against the wall the head that defied +him, he could not do it. + +With a low cry the woman found herself held on high, and realized the +strength of arm and indomitable will-power of the being to whom she was +secretly--and yet irrevocably--bound. She longed for death. Softly she +repeated a fragment or two of a prayer learnt in her childhood’s days, +and she knew that if she were to die now she would draw this man also +to his death. + +But Mabuse, conscious of his power over the woman he held aloft in his +grasp, suddenly came to himself again. Once more he realized that he +was alive, was safe, and felt a fierce joy in the knowledge and in his +possession of her. Almost gently he laid her down, and the poor woman, +condemned afresh to a life of humiliation and degradation, was at the +mercy of the tyrant who dominated her, and from whose power there was +now no escape. She lay wide-eyed and tearless till the dawn, her only +desire for floods and floods of tears wherein to drown for ever the +misery of her existence. + + * * * * * + +On the morning of the following day Mabuse flew with her from Stuttgart +to Berlin. + +There, caught in the toils of the mighty city, among those whose +instincts he developed and used to his own ends, he lived, bent on one +aim alone. One idea presented itself with ever-increasing intensity, +one vision swam ever before his eyes, intoxicating him with a fury of +desire. His phantasies, his strivings, and the goal before him gained +their force because born of the strongest impulse within him, his lust +for power! + +There was one man in the world who had set himself to follow his path, +had discovered him in his own territory, and dislodged him from his +fortress. There was one alone who had dared to disturb his plans, to +oblige him to undertake a flight in which his life had been in danger. +It was due to this man’s efforts that the State had interfered with his +schemes for getting rid of those whom his imperious will desired to +remove from his path. + +From the woman who had first moved him to the very depths of his +being he had wrested all the power of will with which her personality +resisted him. It was his pride to know that. He had taken her being, +her beauty, her independence, her exclusiveness, and grappled them to +himself, and this work of his was the very highest spiritual expression +of his powers and capabilities. But between him and her there was a +period of ten minutes in which she had escaped his domination, in +which he had to renounce his claim to this symbol of his superhuman +force. And that period of time, that barren, useless part of his life, +he owed to the power of this one man. + +His flight from Germany with this woman and his journey across the +Atlantic had been so minutely prepared in all its details that only +death could intervene. His empire of Citopomar, with its virgin +forests, tigers, rattlesnakes, where death lay in wait at every moment, +its mountains and its waterfalls and its rare exotic growths, was +waiting for him, waiting to set him free from Europe, to offer him a +new life. Any day might see him crowned as emperor. + +But he would eat of Dead Sea fruit for the rest of his life, did he +take possession of his realm before he had seized upon this man with +all the full force of his lust for power and his deadly hatred, had +held him within his grasp and annihilated him. Between him and Wenk +it was a struggle for existence, and he could know no peace while the +other lived. + +Once, when the thoughts surging within him would no longer be +controlled, he replied to the Countess’s inquiry as to when they would +leave Germany, “I shall catch him alive. I shall catch him like a bird +in the snare. He will flutter helpless into my hands. Not till then do +I go.” + +She turned away afraid, guessing the man he meant. Since that moment +of her resistance and hope of escape she seemed to have become more +subdued than ever, falling deeper under his demon spell. She did not +venture to oppose or question more. + +Mabuse’s enterprise with regard to Wenk developed slowly. But steadily +and surely the net around him was tightening.... + + * * * * * + +Wenk was in Munich again. George had been imprisoned there, and he +played the rôle of a deaf mute. No one had heard a word from him since +his arrest. He was confronted with the constables and tradespeople from +Schachen who had seen him for many weeks, with the young fellows whom +he had tried to hand over to the Foreign Legion, all of whom instantly +recognized him, but he did not utter a word. + +One morning they found he had hanged himself with his braces. He +had written one word on the wall of his cell, the word that one of +Napoleon’s generals had made renowned after he had lost the battle of +Waterloo. + +An exhaustive search in the Villa Elise brought little to light. It +merely revealed proofs that Mabuse employed the money obtained by +gambling or theft to carry on smuggling and profiteering on a gigantic +scale. The police worked side by side with the Swiss authorities, for +it was believed that Mabuse must be in Switzerland, or at any rate +that he had passed through. Wenk went once a fortnight to Zürich. Now +and then one of Mabuse’s gang was caught, but all were so thoroughly +schooled that no word of betrayal escaped them. + +News reached Wenk from Frankfurt that a gambler was at work there, +whose description so closely resembled Mabuse that Wenk travelled +thither at once, but when he arrived there was no trace of the man to +be found. Three days later there was a report of a similar kind from +Cologne, then from Düsseldorf, and later both from Essen and Hanover. + +Wenk went hither and thither, not doubting in his own mind that he was +indeed on the track of Mabuse. The latter must have spies in Munich who +watched and reported Wenk’s movements. Knowing that he was followed, +he took every possible precaution, and employed all the cunning at +his command. On his journeys he made use of trains, cars, aeroplanes +indiscriminately. Since he could not help suspecting that Mabuse +had accomplices among his own subordinates, Wenk watched these very +closely. He changed his chauffeur and his housekeeper, altered his +address and his telephone number, took rooms in a hotel, or lodged with +friends in the suburbs. But as soon as he arrived at the town where +the gambler had been seen, he found he had vanished without trace of +any kind, only to reappear a few days later in some other part. The +whole country already rang with reports of the existence and operations +of the robber-king. Dr. Mabuse, the gambler! It was like a ballad, +expressing the devilry and defiance of all who offered resistance to +existing law and order, and it spread from place to place. + +In all the towns the police arrested men in gangs, but when the +criminals were sorted out, this man, whose capture was worth more to +them than all the rest, was never to be found. Suddenly it struck Wenk +that Mabuse must be making his way by a circuitous route to Berlin. +From his superior officers Wenk obtained permission to leave Bavaria, +and got in touch with the Prussian courts of justice, and these +appointed him to Berlin on special duty. + +He at once travelled thither and took lodgings in the Central district. +Mabuse saw him arrive at the railway-station, and an hour later he knew +where he was staying. At last he had him within reach, in the place +where he desired to accomplish his scheme of revenge and towards which +he had been working, for Mabuse in reality had never left Berlin. In +all the towns to which Wenk had travelled in search of the gambler, +Mabuse had doubles, persons of his own gang, instructed by him. Munich +was too small for the scheme Mabuse had in hand. The abysses of Berlin +would be a safer hunting-ground, and the hunt began on the very next +day. + + * * * * * + +That day Wenk had been describing to a junior colleague in the Berlin +police his course of action in “the Mabuse case.” They had talked about +it together, discussing a plan of operation, but the only conclusion +they had come to was that the gambler should be allowed to show his own +hand first. To aim at him in the dark would be likely to reveal to him +prematurely the whereabouts of his pursuers. + +In the evening, when Wenk had taken a meal in the “Traube” restaurant, +he visited a café, and then, tired out by his long discussion, he +sought his lodgings. There a man accosted him, standing in a doorway +removed from the light. + +“If you please, sir ...” said he. + +“What do you want?” asked Wenk reluctantly. + +“Would some cocaine be useful to you, sir?” + +Wenk went on without vouchsafing a reply, and he noticed that the man +followed him, but when he came to the busy Friedrichstrasse he lost +sight of him. + +Wenk soon took himself to task for having let the man escape him thus. +He ought to have got into touch with this pedlar of illicit wares, for +he belonged to the same stock as Mabuse. He was half inclined to go +back, but the feeling of weariness was too strong for him and he went +home. + +The next night he took the same way home from the restaurant, but +the man was not there. Wenk lingered here and there, and then, as he +approached his lodgings near the Police Market, a man came out of an +entry towards him, saying in a whisper, “Do you want to see some nude +dances?” + +Wenk stopped still, saying, “You have come just at the right time. I +don’t belong to Berlin, and I should like to see the real night-life of +this city just for once. Where are your dancers? Go ahead!” + +“Follow me, then. I’ll go in front, and when you see me go in +somewhere, you come quick, guv’nor, ’cos of the peelers!” + +Wenk promised to follow his lead. The man went round the corner, +listened to see if he were following, and then went on again. Suddenly +he disappeared. Wenk went a few steps straight on. The man must have +gone into one of the entries near, and he walked slowly, expecting to +find him, and looking round about. Suddenly he heard the man’s voice +behind him, speaking low and reproachfully: “I don’t call that quick, +guv’nor. You’ll have the bobbies after you if you can’t be more spry. +Come on here, then!” and the man pulled him into a house standing far +back. The door opened on to a dark corridor, and silently and unawares +it closed behind him, while the corridor was lighted up in the same +instant. This corridor led into a little living-room, and that again +into a hall crowded with people. Two gentlemen sitting near the door +made room for Wenk beside them. His guide had disappeared. + +What Wenk saw was a simple performance, deriving its interest only from +the secrecy with which it was performed. + +He heard the conversation of the two men at his table. One of them +said, “The only thing that interests me is how this entertainer manages +to get a hundred or more persons here, year in and year out, without +the police finding it out. Now, as an expert, you just tell me that!” + +The other answered in German that sounded unfamiliar, “Well, you +can’t really tell whether it is known to the police or not. There +are such places winked at by the police because they are traps for +criminals--yes, really traps set for them. Now in Budapest....” + +Wenk listened eagerly. The gentlemen went on talking, drawing him +naturally into their conversation. They disclosed their calling, +and then gave their names. One of the gentlemen was, as Wenk had +conjectured, a highly placed police official. They frequently met +each other. The Hungarian told of various interesting and complicated +cases occurring during the practice of his profession. He described +the Budapest haunts of crime, touched on the many secret gaming-houses +which had sprung up so quickly everywhere since the war, and waxed +eloquent against the ever-increasing boldness displayed by criminals +and the mob generally. + +Wenk, with a certain unconfessed distrust, talked very warily, saying +that he was only on leave in Berlin, for the scene of his activities +lay in Munich. But Berlin, as the hotbed of crime, afforded a good +field of study for a Munich criminal prosecutor. He touched lightly on +the existence of Mabuse, though without naming him, and related some of +his bold and shameless crimes. + +“Just lately,” said the man from Budapest, interrupting him, “we took +into custody a similar adventurer, and we did it by curious and not +exactly legal methods, but we got no further in any other way. With us +in Hungary, as it is with you here, the assistance of hypnotism in the +detection of crime is forbidden. We had the man of whom we were almost +certain--but, my dear sir, you won’t betray me, I am sure, for the +professional interest you feel in putting an end to such aberrations +is just as strong in me--well, we were practically certain that he was +the leader of a gang which had several murders to their account. He +was in prison, as I have told you. He made himself out a deaf mute, and +we could glean nothing from his papers. No one knew him, yet we felt +almost sure of our man, and that kind of thing is almost unbearable to +an expert, isn’t it?--for when he appeared before their worships, there +was the risk of his being acquitted for lack of sufficient evidence. +That was a most disagreeable idea to me, for I had spent about six +months in tracking him down, and if he were discharged the mistake +would be due to me. I therefore took a very bold step. A friend of mine +had hypnotic powers. He was a barrister, and had often displayed these +gifts of his in private. I wanted him to go to the jail with me, but +he said, ‘I can operate on him from outside,’ and, indeed, a quarter +of an hour later I knew that we had the leader of the gang at last, +and various disclosures were made which shortly after sent him to the +gallows.” + +While the Hungarian was telling this story Wenk experienced an aversion +to him. He had a sensation of profound mental resistance to the man, +although he could not explain what had caused such a reversal of +feeling. + +“Are you also interested in persons who possess this gift of +suggestion?” asked the police superintendent. + +“Uncommonly so!” answered Wenk. + +“Perhaps you would like to meet my friend, and see something of his +gifts?” + +“Is he in Berlin, then? Yes, that I certainly should!” + +“Yes, he’s here now. He has given up practising law, and now exercises +his gifts openly. He has very quickly become celebrated. You must have +heard the name of Weltmann?” + +Wenk did not like to say No, so he answered with a subdued “Certainly!” + +“Well, he is the celebrated Weltmann. You know he is noticeable +on account of his having only one hand. He lost the other in the +Carpathians in 1915. Well, we’ll arrange a meeting, then. I will see +him in the morning. Are you on the telephone by any chance?” + +Wenk mentioned his telephone number. Both the gentlemen then left, to +go to a house where ether, cocaine and opium were procurable, and other +more obvious vices were pandered to. + +On the very next day Wenk was summoned to the telephone. “Police +Superintendent Vörös speaking! Things have fallen out most favourably +for you, my dear sir! In the home of one of our countrymen, about whom +I will tell you a few things in confidence, Weltmann is giving an +entertainment this very evening. It is quite enough for you to have +expressed the wish; you may consider yourself invited, without any +further formality. It is a most hospitable house, and you won’t feel +yourself in any way a stranger. There are between sixty and seventy +people invited. I’ll undertake all the arrangements, and if it suits +you I’ll come in a car for you at nine o’clock. The villa is some +distance out behind Nicholas Lake.” + +“Thank you very much. Your kindness overwhelms me,” answered Wenk, “and +I do not know how to requite it.” + +“Oh, _that’s_ all right,” answered the other heartily. “We Hungarians +are only too pleased to have such a chance. Then we can regard that as +settled?” + +“Quite, thank you!” + +“How very amiable the Hungarians are,” thought Wenk, as he hung up the +receiver. He felt quite ashamed of himself for having had a doubt of +the police superintendent’s good faith. + +He spent the afternoon among the archives of the Criminal Investigation +Department, where he and the colleague with whom he had talked +concerning the Mabuse crimes looked through the collection of +photographs of criminals. Face after face drew his attention. He would +not give up until he had seen them all, and when he came back to his +lodgings, tired out with his protracted labours, he had only just time +to don his evening clothes in readiness for the function he was to +attend. + + + + +XX + + +Police Superintendent Vörös was punctual. + +“Now I must tell you something about our host and my fellow-countrymen +out there by the Lake,” he said directly the car started. “He was +formerly Prince of Komor and Komorek, and he married a Viennese dancer. +Of course, his people were furious! They made things so disagreeable +for him that one day he said, ‘All right: you’ve gone too far. You’ve +done with your Prince. From to-day I am plain Komorek,’ and then he +wandered off. He was very rich, anyhow, and not in any way dependent +on his people. The only thing that is still ‘princely’ about him is +his mansion out yonder. You will see it for yourself. He’s been living +there for ten years now. His wife is very smart and exclusive--more +exclusive than a princess. Of course, she is no longer young. Have you +had your evening meal?” + +“No, I had no time.” + +“Well, that does not matter. At Komorek’s house they are always ready +for guests. You’ll get something good to eat there.” + +Wenk asked himself, “Why is the man so talkative?” and once more his +feeling of repulsion for the Hungarian regained its sway. He was +inwardly both excited and uneasy, and in spite of the darkness in the +car his eyes smarted. There seemed to be a constant stabbing sensation +in them, and the thousands of likenesses he had seen that day seemed to +be chasing each other round and round in a never-ending stream. “How +much I should like to be at home and in bed!” he thought to himself. +The car drove through districts which were unknown to him, and this was +peculiar, for he had made the trip to the Nicholas Lake several times +already and thought he knew the district beyond Friedenau. To-day, +however, everything seemed unfamiliar. Was it the thick darkness of the +night and the very sparse illuminations allowed since the war, or was +it his own mood, which was responsible? + +“Surely we ought to be at Nicholas Lake by now!” said he. + +“I am not familiar with this neighbourhood,” said Vörös. + +“I used to have friends out there, and I often drove there by +motor-car, but of course that was before the war.” + +“Ah, yes, before the war. Everything was different then,” and they both +became silent. + +Wenk looked at his watch, but it was too dark to read the dial, and for +a long time now there had been scarcely any lights. + +After a prolonged pause, Wenk said, “Surely the driver has not lost his +way?” + +“He is a Berlin taxi-driver. He told me he knew the way quite well.” + +Wenk took up the speaking-tube: “Chauffeur, you know where it is? +Nicholas Lake, the Komorek Villa.” + +At this moment the car swung round, and lights appeared at the end of a +long avenue. + +“Here we are!” said the superintendent of police. + +The motor soon drew up among other cars, all close together in front of +the outside staircase leading to the house. It was not lighted, but the +three French windows in the hall on to which it opened gave sufficient +light. Wenk advanced rapidly to the light. Vörös conducted him to the +cloakroom, which was filled with overcoats. A clock in the hall struck +ten; its strokes were harsh and hasty, as if it would flog the hours +away. Wenk, trying to count them, could not keep up with it. + +“Ten o’clock,” he said to himself. “We’ve been an hour coming, and +yet the car seemed to be doing about forty-five kilometres an hour. +Nicholas Lake is not so far away as all that!” and again a faint +misgiving stole over him. + +He looked towards the Hungarian, who was smiling pleasantly at him. +Then they went towards the large folding doors. + +“Allow me to precede you, so that I may introduce you to the Princess +at once.” + +A man-servant threw open the door and Wenk followed the police +superintendent into a fairly large hall. The first thing he noticed +was that the light was very subdued; then he saw that in one corner +there was a semicircular raised platform, draped with Persian hangings. +Some chairs and a table, covered with a dark cloth, stood upon it. In +the rows of chairs which filled the room, folks in evening dress were +sitting. There were many fewer ladies than gentlemen, and those there +were, were dressed in very fashionable and striking attire. + +Then Vörös murmured, “The Princess!” and presented Wenk. + +“Is this the friend you spoke of?” said the lady, with a winning smile. +“You are very welcome, Herr von Wenk. We are pleased that you are able +to give us your company this evening. May I pass you gentlemen on to my +husband? A hostess’s duties, you know, my dear sir!...” + +The lady stepped a little nearer to one of the electric lights, which +were all covered with silk shades of a strong deep colour. Then Wenk +saw that his hostess, whom he had taken for quite young, was very much +made up and thickly powdered. Her dress was extremely glaring, and Wenk +was startled by her general appearance as, with an extremely friendly +smile, she inclined her head towards the man advancing, saying, “My +husband,” and left them. + +“Good evening, Prince,” said the police superintendent to a man who +bowed to Wenk in what the latter considered a slightly affected way; +and as his host raised his head again, Wenk looked into a swarthy face +with a black moustache, strongly resembling one of those seen in the +collection of criminals’ likenesses he had been studying earlier in the +day. The lady of the house was not in sight. + +The Prince, who in appearance was somewhat common, possessed the most +finished manners. He had, moreover, the very rare gift of conversing +without saying anything, for all the subjects of conversation seemed, +as it were, extraneous to him. He accepted any subject offered him, +apparently only to give form to the matter in hand, but made no +contribution of his own. + +“That manner of his shows breeding,” thought Wenk. “He is only +moderately gifted, but he has such a desire for form that even the +most trivial matter must be expressed ‘just so’! But what a curious +appearance he has!” + +The Prince led him to the first row of chairs, and the company were +begged to take their seats. Wenk did not see Weltmann among them, for +he would, of course, have been noticeable at once, through having lost +his hand. + +Wenk sat on his hostess’s left, with the Hungarian police +superintendent close at hand. The rich hangings on the little stage +swayed lightly, and a tall, broad-shouldered man, with rather bowed +shoulders, came forward. He was well and fashionably dressed, but in +contrast to the other guests, who were all in evening clothes, he +wore a dark grey woollen street-suit. It was at once evident that the +hand covered with a dark grey glove was an artificial one. “He is a +Hungarian, that’s quite certain,” thought Wenk, “in spite of his German +name.” + +Weltmann had a thick black moustache with drooping ends. His eyebrows +rose suddenly, making a high arch over his eyes. His black hair was +combed right back and plastered smooth. The few words he spoke were +simple and somewhat rough. + +He said that the gifts he was about to display before the Prince and +Princess and their guests were matters of fact, and he thought that the +guests would prefer facts rather than an attempt to explain in words +what would probably never be explainable. He would first offer himself +as subject, and ask someone to name a lady and a gentleman in the +company. Perhaps the Princess would name one. + +Then the Princess said, “As the gentleman you want, I should like to +name my neighbour, Herr von Wenk!” + +“And the lady? Perhaps the Prince would name the lady?” + +The Prince answered at once, “Then I shall name my wife.” + +Weltmann seated himself, laying his artificial hand upon his knee in a +way which everyone noticed. The other hand he kept in his coat-pocket. +After a pause, in which he had collected his thoughts, he said, +“Princess, have I ever had your watch in my hand--the little watch you +carry in your hand-bag?” + +“I don’t believe you ever have!” answered the Princess. + +“The number of that watch is 56403. It is an oval-shaped _dernier-cri_ +design!” + +The Princess drew out her watch, opened it, read the number, and +nodded. She showed it to both her neighbours, and said eagerly, “That’s +quite right!” + +“Please to think of a colour and write it down upon a piece of paper, +and show it to your neighbours.” + +The Princess considered a while. Then she wrote down, “The amethyst +colour of Herr von Wenk’s ring,” and handed the piece of paper to Wenk. + +Weltmann thought for some time, then he said hesitatingly: “It is a +colour in your immediate neighbourhood, but it is rather indefinite. It +is transparent, so it is probably that of a jewel. I cannot say exactly +what two colours it is made up of, but there is violet in it.” + +“Lift your ring up to the light, Herr von Wenk,” said the Princess, +and all could see that a deep violet was mingled with a transparent +bluish-white. + +“Which gentleman did the Princess name?” asked Weltmann. + +“My neighbour, Herr von Wenk,” she replied. + +“You, sir,” went on Weltmann rapidly, as Wenk nodded slightly, “have +your pocket-book in your right-hand breast-pocket. In it there are two +notes for one thousand marks each; one is dated 1918, Series D, No. +65045, and the other Series E, No. 5567. Shall I go on, or will you see +first whether this is correct?” + +Wenk felt his pocket laughingly. + +“No,” said Weltmann, “I meant the right-hand pocket, not the left. +In the left you have your Browning pistol, stamped with the Serraing +trade-mark, No. 201564.” + +Wenk looked in amazement at Weltmann, for it was quite true. His +Browning _was_ in his left-hand pocket, and it was one of the Serraing +make. From all sides folks gazed at him, and the Princess leant towards +him, so that he could distinguish the scent of the powder she used. + +“Well, what do you think of that, Herr von Wenk?” + +The entertainer smiled down at him, saying, “You need not mind showing +the revolver, for in another compartment of your pocket-book you have +the permit which allows you to carry firearms. It was renewed in Munich +on January 1, 1921, and its number is 5. You must have been in a hurry +to get your weapon authorized.” + +“Was he dreaming, and was this singular man sneering at him?” thought +Wenk. He brought it out, and everything was just as stated. + +“Enough of that sort of thing,” said Weltmann. “Now, if you will allow +me, we will have some examples of transference of will. I should like +one of the gentlemen to come up here.” + +Someone stepped on to the stage. + +“Do you know this gentleman, Princess?” + +“Yes, it is Baron Prewitz!” + +“Is the Baron’s being known to the Princess sufficient for the company +to rule out the idea of any private understanding between him and +myself?” + +There were cries of “Certainly!” + +Meanwhile Weltmann was writing on a table something which it was +impossible for the Baron to read. Then he threw the small writing-block +down to the company below. He looked at Prewitz, quite quietly, for a +short time. Then Prewitz, with stealthy movements, left the platform +and went slowly and cautiously from chair to chair, looking everyone in +the face. Weltmann called out, “I should like four ladies or gentlemen +to come up here quickly. Be quick, please!” + +Several started up. Three gentlemen and one lady remained on the +platform, the others returning to their seats. Weltmann placed them +round the table, pointing at a pack of cards lying there. + +“Are this lady and these gentlemen known to the company?” + +The Princess nodded, and there was a chorus of “Yes!” Meanwhile Prewitz +was advancing towards Wenk. Again Weltmann wrote for some time upon a +memorandum, casting from time to time his glance upon the four sitting +at the table. Suddenly one of them said, “Shall it be vingt-et-un or +poker?” Weltmann went on writing. + +They decided upon vingt-et-un, and at once began to play. + +“We want one more,” said the lady. + +“I am just coming, dear lady,” said Weltmann. “You take the bank!” + +By this time Prewitz had come to Wenk. He looked at him steadfastly for +a while, then suddenly seized his left breast-pocket and drew out the +revolver, placing himself at Wenk’s side, the weapon in his hand. + +Weltmann said from the stage, “That is because you are so incautious as +to carry a loaded revolver in your pocket! Please”--he turned to the +audience--“be so good as to read what I have written there!” + +Someone read out: “The Baron is to go along the first row, chair by +chair, and where he finds someone with a loaded revolver in his pocket, +he is to take it out and sit beside him with it.” + +They all clapped their hands, a proceeding which Weltmann, by a brief +gesture, stopped. He left off writing, handed the block down to the +Princess, and sat down with the card-players. + +“Page one!” he said to his hostess. She read it to herself, then handed +it to her right-hand neighbour and looked anxiously towards the stage, +where the following incidents were taking place. Weltmann won game +after game. Sometimes he looked away from the table, and then it seemed +to Wenk as if he were beckoning him to come up. Wenk knew it must be a +delusion, due to some effect of the light striking Weltmann’s eye, but +none the less he felt uneasy. The idea occurred to him to yield, and go +up so that he might face this man at close quarters and make sure that +those lightning glances had no reference to him. “Yet that would be +very foolish!” he said to himself, striving to get rid of the impulse. + +Suddenly, without a single word having been spoken, one of the players +leaned back, saying in a clear ringing voice, as if speaking aloud in a +dream, “What have I just done? I had twenty-one, and then someone spoke +with my voice, and said, ‘I have lost again.’” + +He seized the cards he had thrown aside, and showed an ace, a knave and +a ten. + +“Too late!” said Weltmann, who was holding the bank. Wenk put his hands +to his head. He had already lived through such a scene once before. +When was it, where, and to whom did it occur? He cudgelled his brains +to remember. The image of it stood out distinctly, but it stood apart +from any suggestion of the time and place and person. + +From the recesses of his mind a form seemed to emerge simultaneously +with his groping efforts to recover the recollections he sought. A +form--was it a human being, a lifeless column, a monster? He could not +say which ... but then the form was bleeding somewhere, and now Wenk +saw, through the misty phantasies of these recent occurrences, that it +had a mouth, and that this mouth suddenly uttered, in clear staccato +tones, the name “Tsi--nan--fu!” + +Wenk now distinctly recollected having heard this name from the lips +of the old Professor who was none other than the Dr. Mabuse on whose +account he had come to Berlin. “Dr. Mab ..., Dr. Mab ...,” whispered +the secret voices. Wenk tried to call to mind the features of the old +Professor, but he could not recollect them clearly. Only the mouth +which had uttered the name of the Chinese town with such strange +impressiveness was distinct to his vision. + +“Now why,” said Wenk to himself in the midst of the images raised in +him by these recollections, “why should I think at this moment of the +pseudo-Professor? Why do I think of the Professor, and not of Mabuse +under another form, his real form, such as I saw him that evening in +reality in the Four Seasons Hall? Mabuse as a hypnotist? What audacity! +As a hypnotist appearing in public? Had Mabuse the same disconcerting +capability as Weltmann, and had Weltmann the same dark background of +crime as Mabuse?” he asked himself. His thoughts grew ever more remote, +more indistinct and unreal. They were no longer thoughts--they were +misty images which had arisen in his phantasy under the compelling +power of those eyes yonder. He sought to fix his eyes on Weltmann, +striving to picture him with a reddish beard, such as Mabuse had +appeared possessed of when he first encountered him. + +And then suddenly Wenk realized how it was he felt some unmistakable +connection with the player there who threw away his cards although he +held twenty-one and must undoubtedly have won the game. These words +were familiar to him from the story told by the murdered Hull. They +were written upon the first page of the notebook stolen from him by +Mabuse’s chauffeur when he left him that night in the Schleissheim +Park, and he had copied them down word for word after his first talk +with Hull. Yes, the bleeding form was that of Hull, and it drooped +like a weeping-willow over Wenk’s spirit. The blood-besprinkled leaves +whispered ever “It is I, Hull! It is I, Hull!” + +Then it seemed as if in the mists which continued to gather in +ever-varying shapes in Wenk’s brain there grew and stood out, as the +bone stands out from its tissues in the Röntgen-ray photographs, a +dark nucleus, a central, death-endowed essence, something stony ... +something black ... a man. + +The Princess handed him Weltmann’s block, and he thrust these ideas +away somewhat, though he had to struggle to see the words. Then he +read: “The banker wins every game. If one of the players has a better +card than he who holds the bank, he is incapable of holding them +against him.” + +He had hardly read this when Weltmann, speaking from the midst of his +game in a voice which seemed to strike Wenk to earth, said, “Read the +second page!” Wenk turned the page in affright. He read, “Under the +hypnotist’s influence one of the players tries to cheat, by dealing +himself an ace. He is caught in the act!” + +Then the blood rushed to Wenk’s heart, and like molten lava it coursed +along his veins. His eyes were fixed and glassy, and his trembling +fingers let fall the block. A horrible certainty burst upon him. That +was the secret of Count Told’s fall! Mabuse had subconsciously forced +him to cheat, to ruin him in the eyes of the wife whom Mabuse desired +to possess! That was why he had seen the Countess leaving Mabuse’s +house that night. Mabuse it was who had killed her husband. + +What Mabuse had written down occurred on the stage. The lady, who had +in the meantime taken over the bank, dealt the cards so as to cheat and +was caught in the act. Thereupon Weltmann brought the experiment to +an end. He released the four subjects from their hypnotic state, and, +disturbed and still dreamy-eyed, they sought their seats once more. + +Weltmann looked down at Wenk, and the latter knew without a doubt that +he was Mabuse. The suddenness of the discovery paralysed him for the +moment, and he struggled to regain calm and self-control. Had he been +enticed into a snare? Was the Hungarian police superintendent appointed +as a decoy? Was this whole place, so far removed from other dwellings, +and this assembly merely an ambush arranged on _his_ account? + +Slowly he fought the matter out. He stood between two poles. Either all +around were in league with Mabuse, and in that case there was no hope +of escape, and what he was now going through was merely the preparation +of a revenge which could only end with his death, or else it was merely +by chance that he found himself in a company in which Mabuse also +appeared accidentally. It might well be that Mabuse was a Hungarian. +He might also have been a barrister in Budapest formerly, for his +relations with the Privy Councillor Wendel proved that he had had a +twofold career. It was not, therefore, to be assumed straight away that +he and this criminal could not have met by accident. The next question +Wenk asked himself was whether Mabuse recognized him, and he told +himself that it must be so, for Mabuse had seen him both at Schramm’s +and at the Four Seasons Hall; that was certain. But could this man be +so foolhardy and so certain of himself that in spite of that he could +represent before Wenk’s eyes, with a devilish mockery, what he had just +seen occurring on the tiny stage? If so, it provided the solution to +all the enigmatic acts with which he had concealed his crimes. + +The help of the police was quite out of the question, for Wenk did not +even know where he was. But how would it be to let the Prince into the +secret, and get help in the company itself to secure the murderer? He +could only do it if he were quite sure of the company, otherwise it was +doomed to failure from the start. He knew from experience that this +master criminal was always surrounded by a bodyguard of accomplices, +and that they were people who shrank from no devilish deed. Around +him there must be many of Mabuse’s confederates. Should Wenk, as if +accidentally, make his way to some door and escape under cover of the +darkness, leaving Mabuse to be dealt with at a later time, when he +was better prepared to accomplish his overthrow ... or should he try +unobserved to find a telephone in the house and summon the police? But +then again, where were they to come to? + +“Isn’t it remarkable, Herr von Wenk? Have you ever seen anything like +it before?” said Vörös. + +Wenk had heard the question, but he was so preoccupied with his own +train of thought as to forget to answer it enthusiastically, as he had +intended to do. In the torrent of ideas and possibilities which rushed +through his mind he forgot his resolution. Vörös gave him a hasty +glance, and just at that moment Weltmann asked for fresh assistants. + +Wenk, coming to a sudden resolve, pulled himself together and calmly +and boldly ascended the stage, the very first to respond. Far better +to look the wild beast in the face than be behind him! Then he noticed +that Baron Prewitz, whom everybody had forgotten, followed him up. +Stepping forward as before, automatically, he came after him, still +holding the revolver. + +“You don’t venture into my domain without protection, I see, Herr von +Wenk,” smiled the hypnotist. + +“That is just sarcasm,” said Wenk to himself; “he knows who I am!” + +Wenk merely bowed, as much as to say that in Rome he did as Rome does. +He was now standing next the hypnotist, and each took the other’s +measure. Wenk had pursued this werwolf with vindictive fury because in +him he saw the enemy of all that could heal and restore the nation. +When he stood there on the platform with him, isolated for a moment +from all the rest, he felt as if they were two great powers going in +opposite directions. To his mind it was no longer the conflict of good +and evil; it was the struggle of man to man; and, oppressed as he felt, +he still had something almost like confidence in the chivalry of his +opponent ... a confidence that rested upon an impelling yet hardly +perceptible instinct: both were staking their lives on the result of +the struggle. Each was directing a fierce attack upon the other, yet +both must make allowances in this last supreme moment. + +“If only I could sleep!” thought Wenk with an inward yearning. + +He looked closely into Weltmann’s eyes, taking in all his features. +His was a powerful, muscular figure, and in imagination Wenk divested +the face of its false moustache, eyebrows and wig, seeing beneath +it the smooth-shaven, well-formed cranium of Dr. Mabuse. Wenk would +have recognized him now beneath all his disguises. He gazed at him +calmly, and the other’s glance flickered. The large grey eyes seemed to +withdraw into their own fiery depths. + +For a time the performer paid no attention to Wenk. He concentrated +on those who were advancing. No sooner had one of them set foot upon +the stage than he unexpectedly turned right round again and hurried +back into the hall. One after another did this; a dozen, and even more. +Those below were laughing heartily, and the little hall re-echoed +with their merriment. More and more pressed forward, but the effect +was the same on all. With one hand Wenk grasped the wrist of the +other, anxious to see whether he retained consciousness of nerves and +muscles. He meant to resist. The welling-up of generous and magnanimous +feelings had rapidly cooled. He hated, menaced and execrated his enemy +now, and prepared himself for the final conflict. His eager blood +was inflamed against his foe, and he watched him warily, while still +upon his defence. Somewhere in his being a stringed instrument like a +guitar seemed to be playing a melody, and he began to listen to this +mysterious music. It was so tender and yet so distant, but then he fell +back again upon his position of guard and defence. Suddenly a strange +idea occurred to him. How would it be if he too did like the rest, and +ran as if impelled down there along the gangway past the chairs--that +gangway of safety and escape--to where the big door stood encouragingly +open ... to escape and at the same time to do his duty ... to go to +the nearest telephone and summon the police ... to carry out a daring +trick ... and then do like the others, return, still in the same +dreamlike state ... return to the hall and wait--wait for the police, +the rescuers?... It would be a daring trick! + +Already some of the muscles in his legs were twitching.... Then +Weltmann called out harshly to Prewitz, “Why don’t you pay attention? +Cock your revolver! Don’t you see that this criminal is trying to +escape?” He pointed at Wenk, and Prewitz cocked the revolver with a +dreamy nonchalance, an indifference that excited horror and dread. He +raised the revolver to Wenk’s face, and Wenk saw in its little orifice +the dark hell of danger before him, for he knew that the weapon was +loaded. “The first step that he takes, without my orders, you will +shoot,” said Weltmann with an ambiguous smile. + +In this dread moment Wenk heard once again the clear sweet musical +tones, now in another direction. They sounded soft, sad, and familiar, +as if it might have been his father whistling a lullaby beside his +cradle. He listened, and in the few heart-beats in which he was lapped +in the sound of those wonderful tones, he lost the sense of reality +he had had when he felt with one hand for the pulse of the other. The +flute became the magic flute, and round this phantasy there rose up an +enchanted garden. A high, thick hedge circumscribed the area of his +uneasy wanderings, but there was a gap in the hedge, a wide, unguarded +gap, and in it he perceived the free light of heaven beckoning and +enticing him to tear away and escape. + +And then he ran, defying the Baron’s revolver. He sprang with leaps +and bounds across the stage ... the weapon dropping from the Baron’s +hands.... He sprang down its steps at one bound, rushed along the +gangway, leaping like a young colt that feels the approach of +summer. The entire hall was animated over this crowning stroke of the +hypnotist, but Mabuse sent after him a ferocious laugh that resounded +from the walls which had witnessed it. + + + + +XXI + + +Wenk ran full tilt past the servants at the door, who stood with +serious faces, laughing behind their hands. He ran through the hall and +the open door on to the steps, clattered down them, and flung open the +door of the waiting car. It sprang forward, and in a few moments had +disappeared in the dark avenue. In the hall Mabuse stopped laughing to +say, “He is going to the Hell Café to fetch you some of the devil’s +white bread!” + +The jerk with which the car started threw Wenk back on to the seat, +but scarcely had he touched it than the cushions seemed to open and he +sank quickly into a hole in them. Something closed together over him, +and it creaked like iron. Then he awoke from his hypnotic state. He +lay there in misery, unconscious how he had got into that position, +with his head hanging back, apparently in some gap in the back seat. +He tried to rise, seeking painfully for ease and consciousness, but +he could not raise himself from the depths. Something seemed to press +him down again, and hard unyielding fetters were crossed over him +many times. The motor went at furious speed, and shook him against an +iron grating which he soon discovered to be the fetters that made an +upright position impossible. They pressed closely down upon him. He +made a furious effort to throw them off, but soon found it was quite +impossible. He would only have his trouble for his pains. He was +absolutely done for. He was himself the bird which had stepped on to +the limed twig! + +With angry defiance he turned upon himself saying, “That is as it +should be! The stronger one conquers, and you were the weaker!” But +why was he the weaker? Because he had undertaken a task that from the +very first exceeded his powers. Each one knows his own capabilities. +But what had tempted him to undertake something beyond him? Why, in the +most forlorn and miserable situation of his whole life--a situation +that seemed so incredible that he still had a faint hope it might prove +only a dream--why was he able to guide and reason out his thoughts like +the solution of an arithmetical problem? What was it that had enticed +him? He knew the answer. It was the good in him, the outcome of his +feeling of responsibility towards his fellow-countrymen. He wanted to +help them, and because his conscience was stronger than his powers, +he had come to grief. If this experience were to end in his death, at +least he would die in a good cause, and the soul-sparks which at his +death would flame up again in some other existence would form a beacon +to light others upward.... He would live again in spirit among men.... + +The sound of the motor echoed through the forest, and Wenk heard it. +What was the enemy’s plan regarding him? The car raced on through the +night like a ship driven by the typhoon. Where was it going? Whither +were they taking him? Was it to Munich? But, if so, why? If they +wanted to put him to death for having disturbed the powers of evil and +undermined their efforts, why did they not take their revenge at once, +instead of delaying it for hours? + +He noticed that the windows of the car had no blinds, and he saw stars +gleaming fitfully through the panes. They would not arrive in Munich +till the morning, and it would be impossible to drive a fettered man by +daylight over half Germany in a car with the inside exposed. They were +carrying him off somewhere or other, but where? Where could it be? + +It must have been midnight when he left the villa, but even that he did +not know for certain, for of all that had happened to him since the +moment when he had tested his pulse, he had only a dim and hazy idea. +They must certainly be taking him to the place of execution now. + +He recalled, with an endless yearning which seemed to encompass him +like the sea, his long-dead father, and with all his energy he clung to +these recollections, melancholy as their associations were. The jolting +hither and thither of his body in the car and the mental excitement +under which he was labouring made him sick, and in his helpless state +he could not even turn his head aside. His brain lost the power of +thinking in clear outlines. Spectres arose around him and devils played +ball with him. They tossed him backwards and forwards between the +Carse of Gowrie and Aconcagua, let him fall, and snatched at him again, +just as he was about to be dashed to pieces on the Cape of Good Hope. + +Then it seemed as if a gigantic black band had stuffed him down in a +cave as if he were a sack. The walls of this cave were so close that +he could not lie down, but suddenly, slowly, and yet without ceasing, +they began to grow. They did not grow apart, however, but proceeded, +always at the same pace, towards him, and the moment was already close +at hand when they would crush his bones together and burst his brains. +Consciousness forsook him, and he fell into a dreamlike condition, +dominated by a dull sense of impending death. + +When he awoke he found himself stretched out on a leather seat, the +iron fetters no longer binding him. But his arms were tied behind him, +and his legs were crossed on each other and fastened together. A large +handkerchief had been bound over his face, so tightly as to be painful. +It covered his mouth altogether and made breathing difficult. + +It was now day, and he heard a rushing sound that rose and fell at +intervals. He soon recognized it--it was the sea! A man looked down +upon him. The handkerchief covered one eye only, and with the other he +saw, over the edge of the bandage, half the objects on his eye-level. +He did not know the man, who just then called to another, “Come here! +he is awake.” Then the other came to look at him, and he too was a +complete stranger to Wenk. He heard them talking, and one said to the +other, “It is nearly five o’clock. The Doctor must be here soon!” + +The other answered, “If he said soon after five, he will come then. We +must be ready for him!” + +“Can’t you see anything yet?” + +The two men went off. Wenk tried to raise his head, but could not see +beyond the frame of the window. The country must be flat--there was +nothing but sky discernible. + +“Give me the glass! There he is!” Wenk heard suddenly. + +“Now comes the decisive moment,” he thought, and summoned all his +powers to help him dispel the dread ideas which crowded upon him. + +The events that followed occurred in rapid succession. The door of the +car was flung open, and hands gripped him by the shoulders, which lay +nearest the door. They dragged him out, his feet striking painfully on +the step and then on the ground. The second man took his legs, and they +carried him a short distance. Then Wenk saw sand-dunes in front of him, +and a few steps further the men had climbed with him to the top. + +“Faster!” cried the man behind, as he turned round and looked back over +the landscape. + +Wenk heard a motor-car, and said to himself, “That is Mabuse coming!” +Suddenly a light awning appeared above him, and after a time he +recognized it for the wing of an aeroplane. + +The two men arranged everything with hasty movements. Wenk was laid +on the sand, and two cords tied together made a noose under his chest +and arms. One man raised his legs and these were fastened by two +cords which had been attached somewhere to a pole rather high up. A +third leash was then slung round his hips. It was not long before Wenk +realized that he was hanging bound to the outer wall of the car of +a flying-machine. He lay closely fastened there like a package that +was to be taken on a journey. With his uncovered right eye he saw +beyond the edge of the bandage that the aeroplane stood on a prepared +landing-stage over a course which sloped down to the sea. Beyond it +stretched the shore. It was ebb-tide. + +“I am going to have a sea voyage,” cried a despairing voice within Wenk +sadly. “How long it is since my last voyage. All the years of war lie +between, and yet now, for me, comes the war--the bombshell is prepared.” + +From the depths of his muscular being there came an answer to this sad +voice of despair. He exerted his muscles against his bonds. His body +moved and wriggled in the nooses, and the wing of the machine quivered +beneath the shock, and swayed above him. + +Then a broad face and a high, well-formed head bent over him, and two +fiery eyes seemed to pierce him through and through. + +“Aha!” said the voice of the man who stood above him. + +“Yes, there is the foe, there is Mabuse,” thought Wenk. + +“Get in!” he heard him say, and there was the rustling of a woman’s +dress, and out of the rustling a voice ... a voice that made his knees +tremble in their bonds. He knew that voice! The rustling was louder +and closer, and the woman’s voice cried, “What is that?” Wenk heard +the horror, trouble and anxiety that spoke in the voice as she put the +question. + +“Get in!” said Mabuse again. Then the voice, the well-known, low, sweet +voice of the Countess Told, said in a tone of anxious entreaty, “What +are you doing with this man?” + +Wenk said to himself, “She does not know who I am.” + +“Get in! He’s going to make the trip with us, and we haven’t a third +seat. Come along quickly, now!” cried Mabuse. + +Wenk saw Mabuse’s arm seize the woman and lift her into the gondola, +then he himself got in, making use of Wenk’s body as a step, and when +he was settled in the pilot’s seat, not two fingers’ breadth above +Wenk, he bent down to him and said in a harsh tone, “The gentleman is +going to accompany us on our journey--but whither? Good luck!--All +ready?” he called out to the men. + +“All quite ready, sir!” + +The propeller hummed and the aeroplane glided along the course so +swiftly that the very moment Wenk felt the throbbing of the engine its +wheels were already clear of the ground and the earth vanished from his +sight. The machine soared upwards steeply, and it seemed to Wenk as if +his body were standing upright. No word was spoken in the car. The air +beat so heavily upon him that it seemed like flying wood, and he soon +began to feel bitterly cold. The cold seemed to cut through the wide +opening of his evening suit and strike at his very heart. He felt that +it pressed ever deeper and deeper within him, like revolving knives. +His hair was stiff and stood on end, and it seemed as if needles were +pricking him all over. He had lost all capability of thought, save for +one idea. It dimly occurred to him that he was enduring martyrdom, and +that this martyrdom was on account of the Countess Told, whom he had +once loved, at a time when such love was not lawful. + +Then he felt the blow of a fist on his head, and a harsh voice asked, +“Is twelve thousand feet high enough for you?” A few moments later he +heard, “Or are you already dead--of fright?” + +The voice died away and Wenk felt that the aeroplane was being righted. +When it was flying level, a hand touched his head, hastily tearing +away his bonds. Then Wenk saw the face of Mabuse bending over him. He +was silent, but his features were distorted with a malicious joy which +aroused horror. His grey eyes had neither shape nor pupils; they were +like old weather-beaten stones, and, as Wenk recognized with a shudder, +they were glowering death at him. Then the capacious mouth opened like +the yawning chasm in a rocky gorge, and the harsh voice said, “You have +dared to oppose your will against mine. You are now facing your last +moment, and I have taken the gag from your mouth so that my ears may +enjoy the shriek with which you fall twelve thousand feet down to your +own world!” + +Wenk heard his voice, and it sounded like thunder rolling along after +the lightning flash. He saw that Mabuse was loosening the bonds that +held his legs. He tugged and tore at them. Suddenly his legs were +free. For a moment they fell, then the leash that was bound round his +hips held them again, and the hands were now busy with this. In a few +seconds it was untied. + +In his further fall Wenk’s body regained an upright position, held only +by the noose which bound his chest to the wall of the car. He suddenly +felt that his hands were free, and at this feeling he was fired with a +sudden hope. In the midst of his phantasies there surged upwards like a +fairy story the recollection of the Countess’s beauty and sympathy. He +had never forgotten her, and now in the last moment of his life, when +she herself was so close to him, his feeling for her, exalted to an +undying and compassionate brotherhood, was wafted as a cloud beyond the +savage and brutal murderer, to envelop the frail human being beside him +with indomitable pride and courage. + +Wenk saw her eyes, fluttering like birds shot down in the clear blue +ether, glance for a moment beyond and above Mabuse’s eager bent +head.... He saw her hands, tearing off their fur gloves, cling white +and trembling to Mabuse’s shoulder as she strove to drag him back from +his deadly intent. + +But Mabuse shook the woman off, and raised his hands with mad rage +to untie the last noose. He tore undone the first of its fastenings, +making Wenk’s body sink deeper, and beat away Wenk’s hands, which were +seeking to maintain a grip on the edge of the car, with his closed +fists. + +Then one last defiance of fate, arising from the will to live, lent +strength to Wenk’s voice as he shouted in the air, “He is the murderer +of Count Told. He made him cheat at cards! He put the razor into his +hands that he might cut his throat!” + +A fist struck at his mouth, and blood spurted from it, yet at this last +moment of his life it seemed as if his very blood were tasting the +sweetness of a noble spirit. Then a final effort was made to release +him from the bond that held him. A fearful weight pressed on his head, +rolled over his body to press him downward. The weight of it was +immeasurable, black, imbued with the swiftness of a raging storm. But +all at once the iron weight was removed. A part of it became detached +from the aeroplane, unrecognizable, and sank. Wenk’s hands held the +edge of the car as in a vice. The aeroplane hovered and swayed as if +drunken with the high clear air. + + * * * * * + +This is what had happened: + +When Count Told’s name rang through the air, as if thrown from +measureless space, it seemed to the Countess as if she were awaking +from a dream at the bottom of a swamp. Since the night when she had +been torn from her husband and chained to Mabuse’s wicked will, she had +never spoken his name, nor even thought of it. The memory had crept +into her inmost being and hidden itself away, deep in the welter in +which her life was inextricably bound. It had been forced there by +the diabolic power of Mabuse’s lust for domination, and the wife had +suffered it in a kind of subconscious self-defence. Were it not so, +she would have been absolutely and entirely without escape from the +werwolf. + +There within her the name had lain and waited and watched until now it +arose again to provide her with a way of escape. + +Wenk’s last words had brought it forth from the subconscious recesses +once more. The Countess had received it as a direct weapon against the +secret power of this man who had so long taken forcible possession of +her will and her entire person. She suddenly came to herself, and all +that was frozen within her melted. The gloom and darkness in which she +lay bound grew lighter, and it was day within. + +Then, too, she regained all the proud youthful force of her +disposition. She fell into a God-given fury, and her muscles were +endowed with unconquerable strength and vigour. Her hands and her heart +were like iron, and she seized the first weapon to hand, the heavy +screw-wrench, striking the murderer from behind, and dealing a terrific +blow upon his skull. + +Mabuse, judged and condemned, lost his balance, and fell over Wenk into +the depths below, which instantly swallowed him up. + + * * * * * + +Wenk reached a thwart with his legs, raised himself up at lightning +speed, the knots at his breast breaking of themselves. He fell into +the car. The aeroplane was already swaying in space, but Wenk seized +the throttle and righted it. It flew on, and after he had found his +whereabouts he shut off the engines and allowed it to descend to earth +and glide along the shore. + +He landed on the sand-dunes of the East Frisian coast. He helped the +Countess out of the machine. She was pale, but fully conscious. She +fell down before him, pressing her hands to her face. + +He raised her, saying, “We have saved each other’s lives. Let us keep +silent, and strive to forget. We part here!” + +But the Countess answered, “No. I have nothing to conceal and nothing +to forget. The blood that I have shed was entirely evil. I have saved +him from himself and mankind from him. Who can bear witness against me?” + +Wenk looked at her, dumb with astonishment, but slowly he understood. +Then he was seized with awe. He wanted to say, “How proud, how +courageous she is!” but his heart glowed within him. He spread out his +arms in a gesture of self-abandonment and appeal. Life, his regained +youth and vigour, came over him like a flood, and at the same moment +the love which had been shaken by so many vicissitudes, but had never +yet found its fulfilment, regained its sway over him. + +Then they ascended the dunes together, to seek the nearest village and +return to daily life. + + + + +TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES: + + + Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_. + + Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. + + Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized. + + Archaic or variant spelling has been retained. + + New original cover art included with this eBook is granted to the + public domain. + + + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 75967 *** |