The Man Without a Memory Part 13

I was off pretty early in the morning on the hunt for rooms, and almost immediately found a place which fitted my needs like a glove. It was a little furnished flat in the Falkenplatz; just a couple of rooms with a bathroom at the rear, the window of which opened on to the fire escape; an emergency exit which might be invaluable in case of need.

But there was a hitch when I said I would take the place. I was asked for the inevitable papers to satisfy the police; and of course I had none. My explanation was listened to politely, but without effect; so I said I would obtain them, paid a deposit, and went off to buy some of the little items I had thought of during the night.

Then I had a bit of a jar. I was coming out of a shop just as a tall, grey-haired, soldierly man in uniform was pa.s.sing who glanced casually at me. The glance was followed by a start of surprise, his look became intent and interested, and he stopped as if to speak. Naturally I took no notice and walked on; but a few seconds afterwards he pa.s.sed me, stopped a few yards ahead to look in a shop window, and as I overtook him, he turned to give me a very keen, penetrating stare.

Of course there were heaps of people in Germany who had known me well, and I had discounted the risk of running against some of them. But I could not place him, and I was not a little relieved when he appeared uncertain and went off without addressing me.

It was a disturbing incident and brought home to me the advisability of keeping indoors as much as possible during the days I was to remain in Berlin. The matter didn't end there, however.

Remembering Hoffnung's hint about keeping my appointment with Baron von Gratzen punctually, I turned up a little before time, and exactly on the stroke of eleven was shown into his office. My astonishment may be guessed when he proved to be the stranger I had just met.

I think that his amazement was even greater than mine, as he stared at the slip on which his subordinate had written my name and from it to me.

"Then you are Herr La.s.sen?" he asked in frowning perplexity.

I bowed and held out the letter he had sent me. "You sent for me, sir."

He waved me to a chair and sat back lost in thought for so long that I began to wonder what the d.i.c.kens was coming.

"You came from England, didn't you?"

"I believe so, sir."

"And you're the man without a memory, eh? Very extraordinary; very extraordinary indeed. Most remarkable case. And why have you come to Berlin?"

"Herr Hoffnung brought me. I understood he had instructions to do so."

"Tell me about your experiences there."

I looked as blank as a wall and shook my head.

"Surely you can remember something. Let me jog your memory. I know the country well, you understand. Were you in London?" After another blank look from me, he took out a paper, glanced over it, and questioned me about a number of places and matters contained in it; to all of which I replied with either a vacant look or shake of the head.

The examination lasted for some considerable time, and presently he pushed a sheet of paper and a pen to me, telling me to write my name. I had expected some such test and took hold of the pen clumsily and, with infinite apparent trouble, wrote the name "Johann La.s.sen" in big sprawling printed capitals.

He watched me like a lynx at the job, took the paper, scanned it closely, and asked: "That the best you can do?"

"I can read the big letters of type, sir," I replied, and I fancied that he had to restrain a smile.

Next he folded down the paper he had been reading from and showed me a sentence in it. A very non-committal sentence I noticed. "You recognize the writing?" More head wagging from me. "You should, you know; it's your own handwriting;" and he put the doc.u.ment away, and sat thinking again.

I'd have given something to be able to read his thoughts at that moment, especially when he roused himself sufficiently to favour me with some keen stares. I couldn't resist the unpleasant thought that he suspected something; but he gave no overt sign of suspicion, and his manner was less official than friendly. After a time something in his mind brought a heavy frown to his face.

"Let me get the matter quite clear. You were blown up in the _Burgen_, found yourself in a hospital in Rotterdam with no papers of identification on you except a card, you remembered nothing at all of what had occurred, and came to Berlin with Herr Hoffnung. You know that there was only one other male pa.s.senger on the steamer, a Mr.

Lamb, about whom we have some reason to be curious. Now, are you sure you are not that man?"

"I don't know, sir. I am not sure about anything except what has occurred since I was at Rotterdam."

"Well, when you arrived here the Countess von Rebling recognized you as her nephew.--Were you at Gottingen?" he asked so suddenly that I only escaped the trap by the skin of my teeth.

"I believe so, sir."

"Then, of course, there will be plenty of people there to identify you."

"Naturally, sir," I managed to reply, although a chill of dismay made my spine tingle at the meaning smile accompanying the words.

"We know, of course, that no one of the name of Lamb was ever there,"

he said and paused again, as if to give me time to absorb all that this might be intended to suggest.

"Do you speak English?" was the next question, put with a perfect accent in my own language.

"Sure," I replied, with what I meant to be a very correct tw.a.n.g. But it didn't appear to impress him as much as I could have wished; and after regarding me curiously for a moment or two he rose, got a volume of Mark Twain's _Innocents Abroad_, and laid it open before me, asking me to try and read a pa.s.sage.

I looked at it earnestly and gave it up as hopeless.

But he was too many for me. "Well, I'll read it to you and get you to repeat it after me." And he did read it and I had to repeat the words in such American as I could manage. "Thank you," he said as he closed the book and put it away again. And then another long pause followed.

I recalled Hoffnung's disturbing words--that the Baron would have something to tell me I might not like. He had certainly made that good, and I was beginning to be abominably troubled about the run of things when he started in again.

"And so you wish to join our Secret Service?" he asked with the abrupt shift of subject which worried me.

"Herr Hoffnung told me so, but----" and I smiled vacantly.

"Do you imagine that a man without a memory would be of much use to us?"

"I'm afraid not, sir; but to tell the truth, I have no sort of desire to do it. The doctors at Rotterdam told me I should recover my memory in time, and if I could have a good rest and just be absolutely quiet for a time it is all I wish."

He nodded, not unkindly, and then suddenly bent on me the keenest look I have ever seen in any man's eyes and asked: "Are you sure you mean that?"

"Absolutely, sir, on my honour," meeting his eyes steadily.

He held them for a moment with the same intentness, as if he would read my inmost thoughts, and then nodded and leant back in his seat. "I can understand that and believe you. I'm glad to hear it."

What he meant I couldn't tell, but I felt relieved because I appeared to have risen in his opinion, for some reason it was impossible even to guess. Some minutes pa.s.sed before any more was said, the longest silence yet. That he had evidently been running over all that had pa.s.sed his next move showed.

"I am intensely interested in your case, and quite as intensely puzzled about it all. Personally, I take your view--that the best thing would be to give you time to see if the memory comes back. But that's rather a point for the doctors than for me. You have done very valuable work for us in England and, other things turning out all right, there is no doubt you could do more of the same sort. But these are times when we can't do all we might; matters are too strenuous. Except for this loss of memory, you seem to be absolutely normal--doctors again; and you'd better see them at once;" and he rang his table bell. "If you pa.s.s them and, from your appearance I have no doubt you will, you will, of course, go to the Front."

I caught my breath at this, but he did not see my consternation, as he had risen while speaking and went out, leaving his secretary, named von Welten, to remain with me.

CHAPTER VIII

VON ERSTEIN

Baron von Gratzen was away some minutes; and exceedingly unpleasant minutes they were for me. At first I could see nothing but checkmate to all my plans. That the doctors would pa.s.s me as fit for service in the field was beyond question; and, as Germany wanted as many men as possible in the fighting line, I was certain to be packed off without any delay.