The Man Without a Memory Part 60

After a very long pause, lasting perhaps five minutes although it seemed an hour to me, he started, stared at me and got up. "I can't remember you," he said with a nervous smile, which told me it was a lie. "Ring that bell for me."

Fortunately I was between him and it. "What for?" I asked.

He was still a coward, I was glad to notice, by his flinching movement, ebbing colour, and nervous licking of the lips. "I want some more wine," he said lamely.

"Why not say you've recognized me, Vibach? You know you have, and you want to bring some one here. We can't have that."

He did precisely what a coward would be expected to do. He lied that he didn't remember me at all, tried to hold me in talk about our Gottingen days, and when he thought I was a little off guard, made a dart for the door to shout for a.s.sistance.

The shout died still-born. My hand was on his throat before a sound could escape, and I held on with a bulldog grip which choked the breath out of him, as he clutched at my wrists in frantic but vain efforts to free himself. I had twice his strength and was as hard as nails, while he was flabby and soft with drink and self-indulgence.

He tried to make some sort of fight of it and began drumming his heels on the floor; so I lifted him off his feet, locked the door, plumped him down on a sofa and choked him until his struggles ceased and he lay half dead from funk and want of breath, shamming unconsciousness.

Then I sat on him, shoved the sofa cus.h.i.+on over his face lest he should try to shout again, unfastened my "tummy pad," and got out my silken cord and the "send-you-to-by-by" powder, pushed the cus.h.i.+on back, and shook him.

"It's no good shamming with me, Vibach; I've no time for it. Stop it, if you don't want me to knock you on the head and be done with it," I said.

He was too thoroughly scared not to obey, and he opened his eyes and started whimpering and begging for mercy.

"You can stop that, too, and listen to me. I don't want your blood on my hands; but I'll brain you as I would a rat, if you utter a single cry and don't do what I tell you."

"For G.o.d's sake don't," he whined.

"Get your uniform off, and be quick about it too."

He was shaking with funk and could scarcely undo the b.u.t.tons, so I played valet and helped him. Then I peeled my own things off and made him put them on while I got into his. Next, I mucked his face with the grease and dirt from my own face and hands and rumpled his hair, with the result that he looked very much the working man. His arms and legs I tied up securely with a length of my cord and gagged him while I popped the "by-by" powder into a gla.s.s of wine.

He made a little fuss about drinking it, believing it was poison; but very little persuasion of the necessary sort overcame his scruples; and in a few minutes he was off, and I knew he would not wake for some hours.

As I wasn't a thief, I went through the pockets, and was rolling his money and valuables and so on into a napkin, when I found a paper which gave me an idea.

It was the army authority to the firm at Ellendorf to deliver the bus to him.

A veritable gift from the G.o.ds! That was the short cut to freedom, and I made up my mind in a second to use it.

The only thing remaining to do was to hide the man. There was no place in the room, except under the sofa, where he was likely to be seen when the servants came to clear the table. The door communicating with the next room was ajar, and a peep into it suggested possibilities. It was a bedroom, and I took him in, packed him inside a roomy wardrobe, laid the napkin of valuables by his side, locked him in, and tossed the key under the bed.

Then I washed my hands and face and braced myself to face the next act in the comedy or tragedy, whichever it was to be.

CHAPTER XXIX

LIEUTENANT VIBACH

The first scene was a comedy one. Vibach's car was waiting outside the hotel, and the soldier chauffeur would almost certainly know that I was not the lieutenant, and how to fool him till we were out of Lingen was no easy problem.

Still it was no time to count risks; so I drew my cap well down, b.u.t.toned my overcoat as high over my face as possible, and pretended to be drunk.

It was all ridiculously easy. Pulitz, the hotel proprietor, met me in the hall with obsequious servility, hoping I had enjoyed my lunch. I swore at him in true Vibach style, cursed the lunch, told him to give me the bill, swore again at the charge as an imposition, and lurched out hiccoughing profanity and demanding my car.

Truly the G.o.ds were on my side, for it turned out that the chauffeur had gone to get something to eat. The car was mine; and a very excellent car it was. I lurched up to the wheel with the a.s.sistance of Pulitz, who waited on me bare-headed in obvious awe of the uniform, started the engine, growled out an order that the man was to wait for me, and still hiccoughing profanity, fumbled with the levers, and drove away.

I laughed in my sleeve as I rattled past Fischer's shop and saw him and Braun at the door in earnest conversation, probably canva.s.sing the reason for my lengthy absence. Braun saluted me and I lifted a hand in response. What would he have done had he known!

I let the car rip along to Ellendorf. The sooner I reached the factory, the sooner I should get away--if I was to get away at all, that was. So far as could be judged only one really serious danger threatened me--that Vibach was known to the people at the factory--and even that might be averted, by giving another name and vamping a reason to explain his absence.

Any one who knows the att.i.tude of the average German civilian toward the army will understand the strength of the cards I held. The officer's uniform, an army motor, the fact that Vibach was expected, the possession of an official authority duly signed and stamped, all these were so many self-evident proofs of my good faith, thoroughly calculated to impose on even a sharp-witted business man. If I were accepted as Vibach, nothing short of some stupid blunder could cause the scheme to fail. There was scarcely room even for a blunder, indeed, for the plan seemed almost fool proof.

It was nevertheless only prudent to consider what was to be done, should the unexpected happen. It was clearly best not to give my name until I was sure that Vibach was unknown, and to have a story ready to account for his absence. His name was in the order, and no doubt there would be difficulties raised about delivering the bus to any one else.

That could be got over by saying he had told me to see that it was ready for him, and a little manoeuvring would probably allow of my going for a trial spin. They might send up a mechanic or a representative of the firm with me; but that would be no great matter.

Once we were off the ground, he could be readily dealt with.

I had burnt my boats now and was in too tight a corner to stick at anything, even violence, to win my way to escape.

If even the trial trip was refused, it would still be possible to get away under the pretence of testing the engine. Let me be on board with the engine going, it would need a lot of mechanics to keep me from making a start.

There remained the chance that even this might not be possible, however, and in that case the only thing to be done was to leave the place under a cloud of vituperative indignation and threats. For this possibility, it was necessary to leave the motor where I could reach it readily and without trouble.

The opening scene was all that could be desired. The fact that I was expected caused me to be led at once to the managing proprietor, whose name was Harden; he received me with all the respect due to my uniform; put me at ease by expressing a regret that he had never had the pleasure of seeing me before, although he had heard of my prowess in the air; and declared that he felt honoured at making my personal acquaintance.

I was condescendingly patronizing, thanked him a little boastfully for his compliment, and got to business.

"You have everything ready, of course?" I asked.

"Quite. I'll have the plane run out," was the reply as he rang his table bell and gave an order that No. 14 should be made ready for me at once. "Have you tried one of ours yet?" he asked as the clerk went out.

"I expect so, but I'm not sure. I've been up in so many."

"You've seen the specifications for the new make, of course."

"I should like to glance over them again."

"It will be an honour to explain the new improvements;" and he produced the plans and drawings and told me all about them, pointing to various differences and improvements, especially those which were his own inventions, on which he enlarged with immense self-satisfaction.

I had my own reasons for studying the drawings carefully, and condescended to flatter him on his inventive ingenuity. All this took up some time and I began to be anxious to start. I suggested that I had better have a look at No. 14; and we went out together.

She was a beauty and no mistake; but to my chagrin the men had damaged one of the planes slightly in getting her out of the hangar. Only a simple matter involving renewal of a couple of the wire supports; but it meant a loss of time, and I had an uneasy speculation as to what was happening in that hotel bedroom at Lingen.

I ordered the men to be quick about the repair, and was watching them when some one came out to tell Harden he was wanted on the telephone.

This was not on the agenda and I sensed unpleasantness. There were two other planes on the field close to No. 14, and I strolled over to see if their petrol tanks were full, under the pretence of curiosity. It was a case of any port in a storm.

There wasn't a gallon in the two, so my curiosity died instantly. I returned to hurry on the work with No. 14. The men knew their job and had all but finished it, when Harden came out wearing a look of worried perplexity.

"May I beg a moment with you, Lieutenant?" he asked.