The Great Secret Part 52

I obeyed him, and almost immediately Madame called me to her side.

"I have a message for you," she whispered in my ear.

"You are to be at Max Sonneberg's rifle gallery at four o'clock this afternoon."

"From your husband?" I asked.

"So! You will be there?"

"Certainly! Where is it?" I asked.

"18, Old Compton Street," she answered. "Afterwards--"

She hesitated. I stood before her in an att.i.tude of respectful attention.

"You like to come and drink a gla.s.s of beer with me?" she asked. "I live close there."

She was smiling at me with placid amicability. I was a little taken aback and hesitated.

"You come," she whispered persuasively. "No. 36, over the tailor's shop.

You will find it easily. Afterwards I come here to dine! So?"

I was on the horns of a dilemma, for while my acceptance of her invitation might land me in a somewhat embarra.s.sing position, I was still anxious to know exactly what her reasons were for asking me. She leaned a little closer towards me. Her black eyes were very bright and sparkling.

"I expect you," she declared. "So!"

I bowed.

"Thank you very much," I said, "I will come!"

She paid her bill and departed. I opened the door for her myself, and she whispered something in my ear as she went out. Karl, who had been watching us curiously, came up to me a few moments later.

"You know who she is?" he asked.

"Hirsch's wife," I answered, nodding.

"You had better be careful," he said slowly. "Hirsch is not a safe man to play tricks with."

I told Guest what had pa.s.sed. He agreed with me that it was an embarra.s.sing position, but he was insistent that I should go.

"One cannot tell," he remarked. "Even the cleverest women have their interludes. I rather fancy, though, that this time the lady has something more in her mind."

At four o'clock I presented myself at the door of an entry at the address which had been given me. An untidy-looking girl pointed out to me some stairs, over which was a hand pointing downwards, and a notice--

"MAX SONNEBERG'S RIFLE RANGE."

I descended the stairs, and found myself in a sort of cellar with two tubelike arrangements, down one of which a young man was shooting. Mr.

Sonneberg rose slowly from a chair and came towards me.

"Paul Schmidt, is it not?" he asked.

I nodded.

"I was told to come here at four o'clock," I said.

"Quite right. Now tell me, what is this?" he asked, taking from a seat near and placing in my hand a weapon, similar to the one with which the boy was shooting.

I handled it curiously.

"It is a service rifle, reduced size," I remarked.

He nodded.

"Let me see you load it!" he directed, pointing to a box of cartridges.

I obeyed him without hesitation. He pointed to the unoccupied tube.

"Shoot!" he directed.

The tube was an unusually long one, and the bull's-eye rather small, but I fired six shots, and each time the bell rang. Mr. Sonneberg made a note in a book which he had taken from his pocket.

"Very good," he declared, "You have pa.s.sed first cla.s.s. You shall have your rifle to-night, and cartridges. Keep them in a safe place, and--remember!"

He pressed a cigar upon me, and patted me on the back.

"There are some who come here," he declared, "and I find it very hard to believe that they have ever seen a rifle before. With you it is different. You will shoot straight, my young friend. A life for every cartridge, eh?"

"I was always fond of shooting!" I told him.

"Come again, my young friend," he said cordially, "and show some of these others how a young German should shoot! You do not need practice, but it does me good to see a man hold a rifle as you do! So!"

I left the shooting gallery with flying colors. I was not so sure of my next appointment.

CHAPTER x.x.xV

"HIRSCH'S WIFE"

Madame received me with a beaming smile. I found her apartment furnished in the typical German fashion. There were two heavy mirrors, a plush tablecloth, and chairs covered with stamped velvet. A canary was singing in a cage fashioned like a church, a model of a German village stood proudly upon the sideboard. One end of the room was hung with thick curtains. Madame herself had arranged her hair with a heavy black fringe, and pinned an enormous blue bow at the back of her neck.

"We will sit together here," she said, indicating the sofa, "and we will talk of England. But first you shall open the beer."

There were several bottles upon the sideboard, and a corkscrew. I poured Madame out a gla.s.s and then one for myself. Madame was already making room for me by her side, when an inspiration came to me.

"You will drink a health with me?" I asked.