The Four Corners Abroad

"There is a law against dueling," Mr. Bingham told her. "But in some way the men manage to avoid it."

"They are very proud of their scars, I am told," remarked Jo.

"Yes, one of the men just out of the hospital told me proudly this morning that he had forty scars."

"Silly creature!" said Mary Lee scornfully.

"I never saw so many colored caps in all my life, but I suppose you don't sport one of those either," said Jo.

"No, I'm not a German, you see, and I don't join any of the societies which are strictly local affairs."

"Do you make friends with many of the German students?" asked Mary Lee; "and are they nice?"

"I know a number of very nice fellows. Of course there are all sorts, and as is the case everywhere there are some the better men don't care to know. Some of them are a pretty tough set. There is one in particular I happen to know about, who is sure to be sent up if he doesn't look out."

"Sent up where? This is interesting," said Jo.

"Well, you see there are certain rules, and if a man breaks them and gets found out he is liable to imprisonment for ten days. The university attends to all its own cases without recourse to the police."

"Oh, dear! Tell us some more. Do you know the man? Is he very wicked?" Mary Lee asked.

"He is simply a worthless, reckless nobody. He calls himself the son of a countess, and likes people to believe he will inherit a title himself. His mother did marry a count for her second husband, though her first husband, this fellow's father, was little more than a peasant. She herself is a mere adventuress from whom the count parted years ago, having found out her character. She is a handsome woman, they say, and quite fascinating; the son resembles her, I am told, not only in looks but in character."

The Corner girls did not dare to look at Jo, whose face was scarlet. All three were listening intently.

"Go on," said Nan with more than usual eagerness. "Tell us some more about him. It is quite like a story-book."

"His mother managed to get him into the university," Mr. Bingham went on, "but I imagine he has about run his career, for his escapades are becoming known to the faculty, and, moreover, his reputation has become such that none of the decent fellows want to be seen with him. He is tricky at cards and has done a number of shady things."

"I suppose you couldn't tell his name," said Nan. "We want to avoid him, you see," she added with a slight laugh.

"Oh, every one knows him. I am divulging no secret," replied Mr. Bingham. "His name is Karl Hofer."

Dr. Paul's scheme had worked well so far as Jo was concerned. She went from red to white and sat looking straight ahead. A sudden silence fell, broken presently by Dr. Paul, who had been talking to Fräulein Bauer and who now joined the others. "Have you dared to sit on a sofa lately?" he asked Nan. He turned to Mr. Bingham. "Miss Nan made the fatal error of taking her place on a sofa the very first time she called on a German household."

"Yes," said Nan glad of the change of subject, "and you should have seen the awful glance an old German dowager gave me. She came in just behind me. It was her proper place, of course. She quite forgave me, however, when she learned that I was a barbarous American and didn't know the customs. Since that time I have always taken the most unassuming chair in the room. But come, let's get Fräulein Bauer to tell us some German tales. She is very entertaining, really, Mr. Bingham, and she looks quite out in the cold sitting over there by herself with her knitting. She doesn't speak English, you know, but we can all understand enough German to get on all right."

They moved the chairs nearer the seat of state and the subject of students was left behind.

But after the visitors had departed and the girls were in bed with the lights all out from the corner where Jo's bed stood came a voice: "Girls, I have been making a perfectly silly ass of myself, but I've had my lesson. Please never mention green caps to me again, and do say that you do not utterly despise me."

"Of course we don't, Jo," came promptly from the other beds. And there the matter ended so far as Jo was concerned, though Nan had a word with the doctor later.

"Oh, you sly boots," she said. "How well you managed, and Jo never suspected. There you sat talking so sweetly to Fräulein and all the time – "

They both laughed. "Bingham and I thought it was worth a little manœuvering," said the doctor, "even at the risk of offending Miss Jo, but she took it just as we hoped she would, and no one is the wiser except ourselves. Bingham is the soul of honor and as chivalrous as an American gentleman should be, so our secret is safe."

CHAPTER XVII

GOOD-BYE MUNICH

For the rest of the time things went smoothly enough, the greatest excitement being the letter which was finally received from Hans Metzger. Frau Pfeffer gave Nan the news one day when she stopped to make inquiries of the switch-tender. The man had written to his sister before leaving the country, had told her of his illness in Dresden, but this letter Frau Pfeffer had never received. Now he wrote that he had a good place, better than he had ever dared think he could have, and would soon be able to send for his family.

"His family," exclaimed Mary Lee when Nan told her. "Is the whole outfit going? Frau Pfeffer and all those children?"

"I imagine so. Frau Pfeffer could not remember the name of the place where he is, but she says she will send the letter to us to read."

Bertha appeared the next day, her little thin face beaming. She looked very neat and clean, her cheeks fairly shining from soap and water, and her light hair drawn tightly back in two braids. The gracious ladies would please read the letter and she would wait to take it back again, for it was very precious.

Nan and Mary Lee sat down, their heads together. Nan was more proficient in deciphering German script than her sister and was the first to recognize a certain name which was prominent on the page. She gave a little scream of surprise. "Of all things! Mary Lee, do see."

"What?" Mary Lee did not quite take in what was meant.

"Why, look here, the man with whom Hans went over to America is Mr. Pinckney's superintendent, Mr. Wheeler. You know he came over to consult Mr. Pinckney on business matters and it is Mr. Pinckney's big place in New Jersey that Hans has gone to. Did you ever know anything so strange?"

"I truly never did. Are you sure, Nan, that it is the same?"

"Why of course it is. There is the name of the place at the head of the paper." She turned over the sheet and pointed out the heading. "I didn't think to look at it at first. Mr. St. Nick's place is named 'The Cedars' and there is the same post-office address. I know perfectly well, for we wrote to Miss Dolores when she was there one time. I should think you would remember that, Mary Lee."

"I do remember, of course, only I couldn't make out the name in that queer writing. It can't help being the same place. We must write to Mr. St. Nick and tell him all about it. He will be so interested, and I shouldn't wonder but he would ship the whole family right off; you know how he did about Christine and her grandfather. Let's tell Bertha."

They explained as well as they could, telling the little girl that her father was in a fine place and that they would all meet in America. As they had expected, Mr. Pinckney was greatly interested and there came a day not long after when Frau Pfeffer turned her last switch, discarded her green hat, picked up her feather bed and with her children set sail for America to the great satisfaction of the Corners, Jack and Jean being specially pleased that they had a hand in the matter.

A last walk in the Englischer Garten, a last look in the windows of the toy shops, a final farewell to the pigeons on the Odeonsplatz, one more promenade on the Parada and they said good-bye to Munich, to kind Fräulein Bauer, to the Hoyts, to the flock of schoolboys with whom they had had so many jolly times. Dr. Paul took the five damsels as far as Innsbruck and there delivered them into the hands of Miss Helen, who came thus far to meet them. Mrs. Corner had gone on to Verona, where they would make their next stop. The Hoyts, with a perfect phalanx of boys, stood on the platform to see them off, the boys sending a wild mountain cry after them to the scandal of the gatekeeper who frowned at the savage Americans.

Innsbruck was a fascinating enough place to call for a stop of twenty-four hours and Dr. Paul lingered with them during that time.

"I don't know how we are going to get along without you," declared Nan when he had put them all on the train for Verona and the time had come to part. "Aunt Helen, he has been such a comfort; just like a nice big brother, he is always looking out for us. We shall certainly miss you, Dr. Paul."

"Perhaps you don't think I shall miss you all," he said, "but I shall keep telling myself that it will not be so very long before we all shall meet again. Why couldn't we be fellow passengers across the sea? I shall be sailing from Genoa and you from Naples about the same time. Have you taken passage yet, Miss Helen?"

"Yes, we sail from Naples on the first of June by the North German Lloyd. Our steamer is the König Albert, I believe."

"I'll look up my own passage then and see if I can book for the same trip, and we'll call this simply auf wiedersehn." So they parted, he to return to Munich, which would seem sadly empty now, and they to go on to the delights of Italy.

At the hotel in Verona there was a glad meeting with their mutter, from whom they had been separated for all these weeks. There was so much to tell, that at first there was no desire to go out sightseeing, but the second day they began to wake up to the fact that the city held sights for them, and then they went forth to behold them.

"What is there to see here, Miss Helen?" Jo asked.

"A number of things. The Piazza delle Erbe, where used to be the old forum, is one of the most picturesque squares in Italy. You know that it was this city which received Dante after he was banished from Florence. You will see here many of the pictures of Pablo Caltari, the last really great master of the Venetian school; you all will know him better as Paul Veronese. And of course you know this was the home of Romeo and Juliet. A tomb is shown which is said to be Juliet's, though it is doubtful if it really is, and the house of her parents is pointed out."

"Were they real people? I never knew that," said Jo.

"The play is said to be founded on fact, and we are told that it was in the fourteenth century that the two lovers lived and died. It may not be absolutely true, but tradition says that there were actual happenings in Verona which resembled those of which Shakespeare wrote. I think we can spend a couple of days here very pleasantly, for it is a handsome city as well as an interesting one."

"And then for San Marco and the gondolas," cried Nan.

"Where shall we go in Venice, to a hotel or a pension?" Mary Lee asked.