Who Goes There!

On the gang-plank they descended with the throng, shoulder to shoulder in silence. Inspection did not take long; then a porter who had been following took their luggage.

"Karen, do you speak Dutch?" asked Guild, mischievously.

"Yes – a little."

"I supposed you did," he said smilingly. "Please ask him the shortest way to the United States Consulate."

She turned indifferently to the porter: "Wat is de Kortste weg naar – "

She hesitated, then with a dainty malice indescribable – " – Naar the Yankee Consulate?" she added calmly.

Guild reddened and strolled a few steps forward, thoroughly incensed.

The porter smothered a smile: "Mejuffrouw – " he began, "ga recht uit links, en den de derde Straat rechts – "

"Hoe ver is het?"

The porter glanced sideways and cunningly after Guild, then sank his voice: "Freule – " he began, but the girl's haughty amazement silenced him. He touched his cap and muttered in English: "Madam is known to me. The chain is long from London to Trois Fontaines. I am only another link in that chain – at madam's service."

"I am served – sufficiently. Find a motor cab and tell the driver to take us to the United States Consulate."

The porter's visage expressed sullen curiosity: "Why," he asked in German, "does the gracious, well-born young lady desire to visit the American Consulate when the German Consulate is possibly expecting her?"

At that she straightened up, staring at the man out of coldly insolent eyes.

"That is enough," she said. "Take our luggage to a motor cab."

"To the Yankee Consulate?"

"To the Consulate of the United States! Do you hear? Move, then!" she said crisply.

It was raining torrents; Guild held the sullen porter's umbrella while Karen entered the cab; the luggage was stowed, the vehicle wheeled out into rain-shot obscurity.

Karen turned impulsively to the man beside her: "Forgive my rudeness; I am ashamed to have insulted your Consulate."

He flushed, but his lips twitched humorously; "I am sure that the United States very freely forgives Fräulein Girard."

"Do you?"

"Does it matter?" he asked lightly.

"Yes. Are my amends acceptable to you?"

"Of course. But what am I – Karen – "

"You are – amiable. It was very common of me."

"It might have been rather common in anybody else. You couldn't be that. Somehow," he added, smiling, "as we say in America, you seem to get away with it, Karen."

"You are very – amiable," she repeated stiffly.

And constraint fell between them once more, leaving him, however, faintly amused. She could be such a little girl at times. And she was adorable in the rôle, though she scarcely suspected it.

At the American Consulate the cab stopped and Guild turned up his coat collar and sprang out.

While he was absent the girl lay back in her corner, her eyes fixed on the rain-smeared pane. She had remained so motionless for some time when a tapping at the cabin window attracted her attention. A beggar had come to the street side of the cab and was standing there, the rain beating on his upturned face. And the girl hastily drew out her purse and let down the window.

Suddenly she became rigid; the beggar had said something to her under his breath. The English shilling fell from her fingers to the floor of the cab.

His hand still extended in supplication, the man went on in German:

"Your steamer swarmed with English spies. One of them was your stewardess."

The girl's lips parted, stiffly: "I don't understand," she said with an effort.

"The stewardess spied on the deck steward, Ridder. They were all watching each other on that ship. And everybody watched you and the American. Ridder told me to follow you to the American Consulate."

"Who are you?"

"I served as one of the waiters in the saloon. Grätz knows me. If you are carrying any papers of value be careful."

"What do you mean?"

"Ridder gave you some papers. The stewardess saw him. She came ashore and watched you while your luggage was being inspected. She knows you have driven to the American Consulate. Your porter told her – the fool! Do you know what she is up to?"

"I – I can – guess. I think you had better go – quick!" she added as the Consulate door opened and Guild came out. And she fumbled in her purse for a coin, thrust it hastily through the window, and turned in confusion to meet the young man's sternly questioning eyes.

"What are you doing?" he asked bluntly.

"A man – begging."

"For what, Karen? For money or information?"

The girl winced and avoided his gaze. The cab wheeled in a short circle and moved off through the rain again.

"Which was it he wanted, Karen?" repeated Guild quietly. "Was it money or – something else he wanted?"

"Does – it – concern you?" she stammered.

"Yes. Because I have just learned over the Consulate telephone that German agents are now attempting to do what you refrained from doing last night."

"What?"

"Steal the papers I had of you."

"Do you mean the papers you stole?"

"I mean the papers I took by highway robbery. There is a difference," he added. "But both are robbery, and I thought you were above such things."