The Girl from Alsace Part 9

"Where have you been in Europe?"

"To a clinical congress at Vienna, and then back through Germany."

"Perfect! It could not be better! Now, listen most carefully. The name of your wife is Mary. You have been married four years."

"Any children?" asked Stewart.

"Please be serious!" she protested, but from the sparkle in her eye Stewart saw that she was not offended.

"I should have liked a boy of three and a girl of two," he explained.

"But no matter--go ahead."

"While you went to Vienna to attend your horrible clinic and learn new ways of cutting up human bodies, your wife remained at Spa, because of a slight nervous affection----"

"From which," said Stewart, "I am happy to see that she has entirely recovered."

"Yes," she agreed; "she is quite well again. Spa is in Belgium, so the Germans cannot disprove the story. We arranged to meet here and to go on to Brussels together. Do you understand?"

"Perfectly," said Stewart, who was thoroughly enjoying himself. "By the way, Mary," he added, "no doubt it was your shoes and stockings I found in my grip awhile ago," and he pointed to where the slippers stood side by side.

His companion stared at them for an instant in amazement, then burst into a peal of laughter.

"How ridiculous! But yes--they were intended for mine."

"How did they get into my luggage?"

"The woman who manages this inn placed them there. She is one of us."

"But what on earth for?"

"So that the police might find them when they searched your bags."

"Why should they search my bags?"

"There is a certain suspicion attaching to this place. It is impossible altogether to avoid it--so it is necessary to be very careful. The landlady thought that the discovery of the slippers might, in a measure, prepare the police for the arrival of your wife."

"Then she knew you were coming?"

"Certainly--since last night."

"And when the man who was to meet you did not arrive, she decided that I would do?"

"I suppose so."

"But how did she know I had a pa.s.sport?"

"Perhaps you told her."

Yes, Stewart reflected, he had told her, and yet he was not altogether satisfied. When had he told her? Surely it was not until he returned from his tour of the town; then there was not time----

"Here is your pa.s.sport," said his companion, abruptly breaking in upon his thoughts. "Fold it up and place it in your pocket. And do not find it too readily when the police ask for it. You must seem not to know exactly where it is. Also pack your belongings. Yes, you would better include the slippers. Meanwhile I shall try to make myself a little presentable," and she opened the tiny bag from which she had produced the pen.

"It seems to me," said Stewart, as he proceeded to obey, "that one pair of slippers and one pair of stockings is rather scanty baggage for a lady who has been at Spa for a month."

"My baggage went direct from Spa to Brussels," she answered from before the mirror, "in order to avoid the customs examination at the frontier.

Have you any other questions?"

"Only the big one as to who you really are, and where I'm going to see you again after you have delivered your report--and all that."

His back was toward her as he bent over his bags, and he did not see the quick glance she cast at him.

"It is impossible to discuss that now," she said, hastily. "And I would warn you that the servant, Hans, is a spy. Be very careful before him--be careful always, until we are safe across the frontier. There will be spies everywhere--a false word, a false movement, and all may be lost. Are you ready?"

Stewart, rising from buckling the last strap, found himself confronting the most adorable girl he had ever seen. Every trace of the journey had disappeared. Her cheeks were glowing, her eyes were shining, and when she smiled, Stewart noticed a dimple set diagonally at the corner of her mouth--a dimple evidently placed just there to invite and challenge kisses.

The admiration which flamed into his eyes was perhaps a trifle too ardent, for, looking at him steadily, she took a quick step toward him.

"We are going to be good friends, are we not?" she asked. "Good comrades?"

And Stewart, looking down at her, understood. She was pleading for respect; she was telling him that she trusted him; she was reminding him of the defenselessness of her girlhood, driven by hard necessity into this strange adventure. And, understanding, he reached out and caught her hand.

"Yes," he agreed. "Good comrades. Just that!"

She gave his fingers a swift pressure.

"Thank you," she said. "Now we must go down. Dinner will be waiting.

Fortunately the train is very late."

Stewart, glancing at his watch, saw that it was almost six o'clock.

"You are sure it is late?" he asked.

"Yes; at least an hour. We will send someone to inquire. Remember what I have told you about the waiter--about everyone. Not for an instant must we drop the mask, even though we may think ourselves un.o.bserved. You will remember?"

"I will try to," Stewart promised. "But don't be disappointed if you find me a poor actor. I am not in your cla.s.s at all. However, if you'll give me the cue, I think I can follow it."

"I know you can. Come," and she opened the door, restoring him the handkerchief which she had hung over the k.n.o.b.

As they went down the stair together, Stewart saw the landlady waiting anxiously at the foot. One glance at them, and her face became radiant.

"Ah, you are late!" she cried, shaking a reproving finger. "But I expected it. I would not permit Hans to call you. When husband and wife meet after a long separation, they do not wish to be disturbed--not even for dinner. This way! I have placed the table in the court--it is much pleasanter there when the days are so warm," and she bustled before them to a vine-shaded corner of the court, where a snowy table awaited them.

A moment later Hans entered with the soup. Stewart, happening to meet his glance, read the suspicion there.

"Well," he said, breaking off a piece of the crisp bread, "this is almost like home, isn't it? I can't tell you, Mary, how glad I am to have you back again," and he reached out and gave her hand a little squeeze. "Looking so well, too. Spa was evidently just the place for you."

"Yes--it was very pleasant and the doctor was very kind. But I am glad to get back to you, Tommy," she added, gazing at him fondly. "I could weep with joy just to look at that honest face of yours!"