第82章 Erica to the Rescue (2)

Walking up Regent Street one afternoon, years ago, Erica, walking with Mrs.Craigie on the opposite side, had caught sight of him, and regardless of the fourfold chain of carriages, had rushed across to him with the fearless daring of a six-year-old child, to whom the danger of horses' hoofs was a mere nothing when compared with the desire to get a walk with her father.His heart beat quicker even now as he thought of the paralyzing dread of long ago, nor had Miss Erica ever been scolded for her loving rashness; in his relief he had been unable to do anything but clasp the little hand in his as though nothing should ever part them again.

But her loving disregard of all danger and difficulty was no longer inspired by love of him, but by love of what Raeburn considered a myth and a delusion.

In that lay the real sting.He courage, her suffering, all seemed to him wasted, altogether on the wrong side.Once more black gloom fell upon him.The room grew dusk then dark, but still he remained motionless.

Again he was interrupted by a knock at his door.

"Signor Civita wished to speak to him."

He braced himself up for an interview with some stranger, and in walked a foreigner wrapped in a long cloak, and looking exceedingly like a stage brigand.

He bowed, the brigand bowed too, and said something rapid and unintelligible in Italian.Then glanced at the door to see that it was safely closed, he made a bound to the open window and shut it noiselessly.Raeburn quietly reached down a loaded revolver which hung about the mantel piece, and cocked it, whereupon the brigand fell into a paroxysm of laughter, and exclaimed in German:

"Why, my good friend! Do you not know me?""Haeberlein!" exclaimed Raeburn, in utter amazement, submitting to a German embrace.

"Eric himself and no other!" returned the brigand."Draw your curtains and lock your door and you shall see me in the flesh.Iam half stifled in this lordly wig."

"Wait," said Raeburn."Be cautious."

He left him for a minute, and Haeberlein heard him giving orders that no one else was to be admitted that evening.Then he came back, quietly bolted the door, closed the shutters, and lighted the gas.In the meantime his friend threw off his cloak, removed the wig of long, dark hair, and the drooping mustache and shaggy eyebrows, revealing his natural face and form.Raeburn grasped his hand once more.

"Now I feel that I've got you, Eric!" he exclaimed."What lucky chance has brought you so unexpectedly?""No lucky one!" said Haeberlein, with an expressive motion of the shoulders."But of that anon; let me look at you, old fellow why you're as white as a miller! Call yourself six-and-forty! You might pass for my grandfather!"Raeburn, who had a large reserve fund of humor, caught up his friend's black wig from the table and put it on above his own thick, white hair, showing plainly enough that in face and spirits he was as young as ever.It was seven years since they had met, and they fell to talk of reminiscences, and in the happiness of their meeting put off the more serious matters which must be discussed before long.It was a good half hour before Haeberlein alluded to the occasion of his present visit.

"Bring actually in London, I couldn't resist looking in upon you,"he said, a cloud of care coming over his face."I only hope it won't get you into a scrape.I came over to try to avert this deplorable business about poor Kellner too late, I fear.And the worst of it is, I must have blundered somehow for my coming leaked out, and they are on the watch for me.If I get safe across to France tonight, I shall be lucky.""Incautious as ever," sighed Raeburn."And that Kellner richly deserves his fate.Why should you meddle?""I was bound to," said Haeberlein."He did me many a good turn during my exile, and though he has made a grave mistake, yet--""Yet you must run your chivalrous head into a halter for his sake!"exclaimed Raeburn."You were ever Quixote.I shall live to see you hanged yet."Haeberlein laughed.

"No, I don't think you will," he said, cheerfully."I've had some bad falls, but I've always fallen on my feet.With a good cause, a man has little to fear.""If this WERE a good cause," said Raeburn, with significant emphasis.

"It was the least I could do," said Haeberlein, with the chivalrous disregard of self which was his chief characteristic."I only fear that my coming here may involve you in it which Heaven forfend! Ishould never forgive myself if I injured your reputation."Raeburn smiled rather bitterly.

"You need not fear that.My reputation has long been at the mercy of all the lying braggarts in the country.Men label me socialist one day, individualist the next.I become communist or egotist, as is most convenient to the speaker and most damaging to myself.But there," he exclaimed, regaining the tranquil serenity which characterized him, "why should I rail at the world when I might be talking to you? How is my old friend Hans?"The sound of a key in the latch startled them.

"It is only Erica," said Raeburn."I had forgotten she was out.""My pretty little namesake! I should like to see her.Is she still a zealous little atheist?""No, she has become a Christian," said Raeburn, speaking with some effort.

"So!" exclaimed Haeberlein, without further comment.He himself was of no particular creed; he was just indifferent, and the zeal of his friend often surprised him.

Raeburn went out into the passage, drew Erica into the front sitting room, and closed the door.

"There is an old friend of yours in my study," he said."He wishes to see you, but you must promise secrecy, for he is in danger.""Is it Herr Haeberlein?" asked Erica.

"Yes, on one of his rash, kindly errands, but one of which I don't approve.However, his work is over, and we must try to get him safely off to France.Come in with me if you will, but I wanted to tell you about it first, so that you should not be mixed up with this against your will, which would be unfair!""Would it?" said Erica, smiling, as she slipped her hand into his.