“I should be greatly interested, madam, to hear how you reached a conclusion which so exactly resembles my own?”
“It cannot be anything else,” said the lady, smiling, “than an unusual evidence of secret sympathy between me and a State official!”
“She knows me, then!” said Wenk to himself in astonishment. “But how could that come about, except through Cara Carozza? A State official, guardian and representative of the law, and avenger of any breach of it, himself violating its rules! It was absolutely fantastic. Yes, it must have been the Carozza girl.” From the niche he looked into the brilliantly lighted room, where the dyed tresses of the dancer gleamed forth between the heads. “So it was you!” he said to himself; “you want to bring my plans to nought, you good-for-nothing! …”
Then he remembered the glance the blond had given her that first evening, and he ended, “You are his decoy!” Now he realized the connection between them. It was the dancer who brought the blond his victims. He breathed a threat: “Just you wait; I am taking it all in!”
“Our agreement seems to have struck you forcibly,” said the lady, interrupting his thoughts.
“As a matter of fact, my thoughts were wandering, and I beg your pardon, madam,” said Wenk; “it is incomprehensible that any strange influence should be able to intervene in your neighbourhood, but it can be explained, nevertheless. …”
He did not continue. Two ideas suddenly obtruded themselves. This lady was undoubtedly an excellent observer. If only he could procure her help! But the other thought stirred his pulses. Why not abandon all this searching and spying and following after criminals, and strive to win the love of a woman such as this, beautiful as a queen and stately as a goddess! Then he felt her touching his arm hastily.
“Don’t speak,” she whispered, “I beg of you!”
At the same moment Wenk saw three gentlemen entering the circle of light in the room. The first was a young man whom he knew by sight, for a few days previously he had noticed him at an exhibition of Futurist paintings, as the buyer of the most unusual and bizarre of these. He had asked the name of the purchaser, and the attendant had replied, “Graf Told bought them. There he is,” pointing to the young man, who had just now entered the room.
“Herr von Wenk,” said the lady in a whisper, “will you do me a great favour?”
“With pleasure, madam. I am at your command.”
“I am anxious to leave this room within the next few minutes without being seen. Can you help me to do this?”
“Certainly,” said Wenk.
“How can I accomplish my purpose?”
“That is quite simple. You see the entrance to that staircase; it is only a few steps to it. You must look at it well, to be able to find it in the dark. I am certain that I know where the electric light switch is. It is just over the first section of the stairs. I will go there and turn it out, and you can make use of the darkness to gain the staircase. When you have passed me I will stand directly in the way of anyone who tries to follow you or to reach the switch.”
“Splendid! Thank you very much.”
Her escape was safely made. When Wenk saw the lady had reached the bottom, he turned the light on again and entered the room with a light laugh, saying, “Please forgive me; I did it for a joke, and I did not realize you would be in total darkness.”
They all laughed, but the dancer was standing, pale and disturbed, at the head of the winding stair, which she had reached at one bound. She recovered herself quickly and returned to Hull, begging him to drive her home. Wenk accompanied them.
As they were about to leave the gaming-hall, Wenk saw the headwaiter hand Hull an envelope. He went to an empty table beneath a lamp, opened it, and drew out a little note. It seemed as if an invisible thrust had sent him staggering. Cara went up to him, but he crumpled up the note, stuffing it into his pocket, and rose and followed the others out.
When they had reached the street they parted, but Hull turned and came back to Wenk, saying, in a voice trembling with excitement, “I must speak to you. This very night! Can you see me at your rooms in an hour’s time? It is something horrible; I am being shadowed!”
“Look at this!” said Hull, as he entered Wenk’s rooms an hour later. With a despairing gesture he flung an envelope on Wenk’s table. The latter opened it and drew a small card from it. On it there stood:
Herr Balling,
I.O.U. 20,000 (twenty thousand) marks payable November 21st, 4 p.m.
“My I.O.U.,” said Hull in a toneless voice, and after a pause, “Look at the other side!”
On the reverse side Wenk read: “You are warned. The reason I did not take your twenty thousand marks is my affair alone. The transaction lies between you and me. Play is play, and no State Attorney has anything to do with it.”
Wenk was staggered. “Yes, yes, yes,” he said, and found no other words to express the storm which raged within him. Then after a while, as he collected himself, he said:
“We sat near him, you and I! We could have seized him by the arm, one on each side, you … and I! Do you understand?”
“I am shadowed!” whispered Hull, who seemed to have no thought of anything except his immediate danger.
“Do you understand? Do you know who Balling is? Your Balling? your distinguished old gentleman? It is the man with the fair beard who was at Schramm’s. He is your Herr Balling! Good heavens! … We could have put our hands on his shoulder!”
Hull merely gasped. Now he knew why the sandy-bearded man had seemed familiar to
