“Dr. Zagaie,” he called, impatiently, “Mlle. von Altdorf requires a restorative.”
Captain Lindenwald, who had been speaking to the nurse, turned solicitously at the words.
“My dear,” he cried, kneeling beside the prostrate girl, “my dear, let me get you some wine; the strain has been too much for you.”
But the Fräulein motioned him away.
“I shall be quite myself presently,” she said.
Nevertheless Dr. Zagaie insisted on her taking a sedative.
After a little Grey withdrew, and not without some difficulty found his apartment, which was on the same floor, but in another part of the hotel. In his absence his room had been put in order, and there now lay upon the table a blue envelope, addressed in a distinctly English hand to “M. Max Arndt.” Though it was undoubtedly meant for him it was with rather a sense of impropriety that he took it up and tore off the end. Revelation after revelation had followed one another so rapidly that afternoon that he was growing callous to discovery, and when he read—
My Dear Max:
I shall be unable to dine with you tonight as I promised, but will meet you later in the Café Américain if you can arrange it—say between eleven and midnight. Jack.
—it was with scarcely a tremour of surprise. Indeed there was something in the tone of the scrawl—something, perhaps, in the penmanship, that gave him a sense of reassurance. The dying Herr Schlippenbach had affected him oddly. Nearness to him had produced a sort of emotional nausea, and for some reason which he could not explain he had experienced a violent antipathy to Captain Lindenwald. He realized that, surrounding the little company of which he had so strangely found himself one, there was a mystery which baffled his understanding. Then the last words of the old German recurred to him, and again he pondered as to whether they bore any significance or were merely the murmurings of dementia. As the clock on the mantel-shelf chimed seven, a knock sounded on the door, and in answer to his “Entrez!” Johann entered.
“Will Herr Arndt dress for dinner?” he asked. “Herr Captain Lindenwald is not dressing, and thought perhaps Herr Arndt would dine with him in the salle à manger. Fräulein von Altdorf is indisposed, and is having some tea and toast in her room.