Yet one more thought. Was he a match for his opponent? Must he not fortify himself if he were henceforward to pit his life and strength in such a struggle? His adversary seemed to have the advantage of him, for he worked in the dark. Were his own hands strong enough to seize and hold the evil powers advancing upon him and to crush them? Had he the strength to fight the age, for his opponent was more than a cheat, a criminal—he was the whole spirit of the age, a spirit torn through the catastrophe of the war from the hellish depths where it was created, to fall upon the world and the homes of men. He realized that against such an opponent he must spread his nets more widely if he hoped to ensnare him. He must have an organization equal to the criminal’s own. He must not, as hitherto, consider it sufficient to rely on his confederates, those who were entirely of one mind with himself. He must seek his helpers in the enemy’s camp.
At once he thought of the lady whose strange and questionable escape he had assisted. He drove quickly to Schramm’s. Yes, there she was, but, as usual, a spectator merely. He sat down beside her.
“You are not playing, sir?” said she.
“No, your example has made watching more interesting than playing to me.”
“Watching,” laughed the lady lightly, “when carried on by a high legal official is not good … for the players!”
Wenk had a slight suspicion that this was said with a double meaning, but whether mockingly or warningly he could not decide; in any case, it was said to serve the purpose of some other, who possibly was sitting there at play. Perhaps they worked secretly in partnership.
He observed her closely, but she sat quietly idle. Her bright eyes roved in all directions. He said to her, feeling his way:
“You have yourself seen a high legal official caught in the toils of the gaming-devil. His jurisdiction is troublesome to the other player!”
He said “the other,” and waited to see whether she would start, or twitch nervously, or give the player some sign or other. But she did none of these things, merely remained still and accepted his words with a friendly smile.
“She is a beautiful woman,” he thought, “and there is some secret reserve strength in her. Men play for money, but it would be more worthy of their manhood to play for such a woman as this.”
After a few moments she leaned towards him, saying lightly and with a playful impressiveness:
“I was present when Basch lost so heavily!”
“I know you were,” said Wenk, astonished and inquiringly.
“And you were playing then, too.”
“Yes, I was playing. I have just confessed it!”
“Ah, but I mean you were really playing then! The first evening, when you came with Hull, you took part in the game, but you were not really playing. And the evening when the old Professor was there—well, I don’t quite know, there was some sort of atmospheric disturbance … wasn’t there now?” she said, turning to him with a melting and wholly feminine gesture of friendliness.
Wenk was taken aback. He replied:
“That evening when the old Professor was there? What old Professor?”
“The evening you came as a country cousin,” she answered roguishly.
At last Wenk comprehended that she had recognized him, and his face showed his disappointment, but she begged him not to mind her having found him out.
“You were well disguised,” she said, “but I could not believe that here in Munich there would be two such quaint little monkeys on a cherry-tree, conjured so cleverly by a Chinese jewel-cutter out of an amethyst. When I first saw the ring, flanked on each side by stupid diamonds on stupid fingers, I noticed it with pleasure.”
Wenk looked at her, awaiting something more. Who could she be?
“At any rate, it struck me as curious that there could be two men, even in such circles as ours”—here she glanced round the table—“who had some amount of taste. …”
“Your sarcasm,” said Wenk, entering into her vein, “does not require either Yes or No, for the fact that you noticed my ring and so correctly guessed its origin proves that you belong to a very different circle from the one you find yourself in here.”
“Oh, I was a stewardess on a steamer bound for Asiatic ports, but the war has taken both our ships and our calling from us!”
“May I then hazard the suggestion that you have withdrawn from your former calling at some advantage to yourself?”
“Oh, I am not stupid!” she smiled back.
“There is nothing which it is more unnecessary to assure me of, Countess.”
There was a momentary flutter in the beautiful woman’s eye, and an imperceptible something within her seemed to come to a standstill. Had he known who she was and wanted to play with her a little, and would he now blazon abroad the fact that she frequented such places secretly?
Wenk laughed aloud.
“Or can it be that the coroneted handkerchief comes from the trunk of some countess travelling to Asiatic ports, as Sherlock Holmes would argue? No, dear lady, we are quits. We shall both comport ourselves more circumspectly in future when we are among our fellow-mortals. I shall put a stupid diamond on my finger, and you will use a monogram without a coronet on your handkerchiefs, Countess. …”
“Hush!” she said, in agitation.
“But even such precautions would serve no turn!”
“I do not understand you.”
“You force me to pay you compliments. I am seeking vainly for a suitable way of expressing myself so that I may convey to you my conviction that the ‘countess’ in you cannot anyhow be suppressed.”
“He will
