What was he to do now? If he wrote to Winifred through the ordinary channels of the hotel she might, indeed, soon receive the letter, but the risks of this course were many and obvious. He ate, puzzling his brains, spurring all his power of invention. The time for action was growing short.
Suddenly he noticed the German boy, and had a thought. He could speak German well, and, guessing that Rachel Craik probably did not understand a word of it, he said in a natural voice to the boy in German:
“Fond of American dollars, boy?”
“Ja, mein Herr,” answered the boy.
“I’m going to give you five.”
“You are very good, mein Herr,” said the boy, “beautiful thanks!”
“But you have to earn them. Will you do just what I tell you, without asking for any reason?”
“If I can, mein Herr.”
“Nothing very difficult. You have only to go over yonder by that chair where I was sitting, throw yourself suddenly on the floor, and begin to kick and wriggle as though you had a fit. Keep it up for two minutes, and I will give you not five but ten. Will you do this?”