The ride to Hamburg was short and pleasant. There the whole party disembarked; Elsa and the Baroness to remain, and Ferreira and Topham to take another train for Berlin.
In the waiting-room Topham made his farewells. Ferreira had gone to see after the baggage and the Baroness had fallen a little behind, so that the two were practically alone. Briefly, almost coldly, for fear his passion might break away in spite of himself, Topham pressed the girl’s hand and bade her adieu.
“Good-by, Senorita,” he said, slowly. “I have to thank you for a very delightful voyage. Is there no chance at all that I may see you in Berlin. I shall be there till day after tomorrow.”
The girl shook her head. If she were piqued by Topham’s self-restraint she did not show it. “I must stay in Hamburg for the present,” she answered, deliberately. “I shall not go to Berlin till much later. So this is really good-by, senor.”
“Good-by.” Topham clasped her extended hand; then turned away, afraid to trust himself further.
But the girl called him back. “Senor!” she exclaimed softly. “Senor!”
“Yes!”
“Listen! Be careful. Be very careful. Things—happen—to strangers sometimes. Be very careful, senor, till you are safe in Berlin.”
Topham stared. “I don’t understand,” he said.
“There is nothing to understand—except to be—careful. This country is not always altogether safe for strangers. Be careful—for my sake, senor.”