Part 36

“Herr von Wenk?” he inquired courteously.

“Please come in,” answered the lawyer, “but I am sorry to say that I am just going out on urgent official business.”

“I will not detain you a moment,” said the other. “My name is Hull, and I am the father of the murdered man!”

Wenk bowed, and led the way to his office.

“Herr von Wenk, I have been told that you are conducting this inquiry. Edgar was my only son, and I brought him up badly, for my whole time was given to my business, and I had vast interests. My wife died when he was but a child. I think many sons in our days have had a similar experience.” He spoke evenly, almost harshly. “But that does not free me from blame. Our sons were our pleasure, our business our duty. It would have been better had it been the other way about. I cannot desire such a life as his to be restored, for what I have heard from various sides about the circumstances of the case is sufficient, and I do not wish to know more, but I have allowed myself the liberty of calling upon you for other reasons. My son used to receive an income of ten thousand marks from me each month, and the only wish left me in this unhappy affair is to be able to spend these ten thousand marks as if he were still living, and add another ten thousand to them. I want the money to be used to help men to make good, and how am I to set about this? Can you advise me, sir?”

Wenk answered in a hesitating tone, “I must first of all confess, Herr von Hull, that your words have taken me aback!”

This man’s bearing moved him deeply. Restrained force of character, suppressed paternal grief, unutterable sympathy ... everything that had thus unexpectedly been laid bare to him, threw him for the moment somewhat off his balance. “Yes. I don’t know ... Herr von Hull, why did you come to me above all men?”

“I can tell you that at once, sir. It is your task to bring the murderers to justice, and I should like to replace with something that is beneficial the harm that has been done by one of my house. I should like the recollection of my son to bear good fruit. I have had nothing of his life, but perchance his death may yield something that may plead for me in eternity.” His voice remained firm until the last word had been uttered. “But I must not forget that you are in a hurry,” he continued. “Perhaps it is this same unhappy affair which prevents your giving me any more time now?”

“You are right,” said the lawyer.

“Can I see you to-morrow or some other day, when we can talk quietly, when you are free?”

“I shall be free to-morrow, my dear sir. Come when most convenient to you, preferably in the morning. You are not obliged to fix an exact time, for I shall be at home all day. I thank you for your suggestion; we shall be enabled to do a splendid piece of work together, I believe.”

“Nay, it is I who must thank you for being willing to help me raise a memorial to my unhappy boy that shall redeem his name among his fellow-men.”

They left the house together, and Wenk drove rapidly to the prison. “The lady left here long before four o’clock,” said the Governor.

“Indeed!” said Wenk, disappointed. “What did she leave for me?”

“Nothing!”

“And you yourself know nothing either? About the matter she had in hand, did she get any results?”

“I did not inquire.”

“Why not?” said Wenk, annoyed by his manner.

“I was not instructed to do so,” answered the Governor morosely.

“It is not a question of your exact instructions, but of attempting to track to earth one of the most dangerous bands of criminals Germany has ever known. You don’t seem to realize that. What you and your instructions may be counts for nothing.”

“So much the better. Perhaps another time I may be spared such innovations....”

“You do not seem to feel yourself thoroughly comfortable in your post, Governor. I will say a word for you to the Home Secretary! Good morning.”

“What has happened?” said Wenk to himself. “What is up?” He felt disappointed and angry as he took his seat in the car again.

* * * * *

At seven o’clock that evening the Countess drove to the Privy Councillor’s mansion. She found the same company assembled there as on the last occasion, and this time, too, she saw as little of them. Around her and Dr. Mabuse, her partner at the supper-table, the conversation rose and fell, isolating them from the rest. Her neighbour was more silent than on the previous occasion, but everything he said was spoken with an impressive intent, directed towards a goal which was unrecognizable.

The Countess was divided in her own mind as to whether she should relate her experience in the prison to him, should tell him that she had come in contact with the soul of a woman, strong and fearless as the figures in his own recitals; yea, even stronger, since it was a woman, experienced in renunciation, and carrying on her conflict in resistance and defence.

In imagination she had entered so thoroughly into the struggle, and her encounter with this criminal seemed to open up such unusual circumstances, that the power of the man at her side insensibly seemed to lessen, and this second meeting with him appeared to yield nothing that her passionate anticipation had longed for. The man seemed to decline before her.

She noticed that while he uttered his imperious sentences, both at their first meeting and on this occasion, he kept his eyes fixed on her with a compelling look. They were grey eyes, and their glance was a steely one. She grew somewhat frightened, and in her anxiety yearned for some human being who could warm her breast with his sympathy and afford her troubled spirit peace.