The Man Without a Memory by Arthur W. Marchmont (digital e reader .TXT) 📕

to be the best of chums?"

"Well, it's a rotten arrangement to tie up two kids to marry, like you two, just because of some money."

I laughed. "I'm not exactly a kid now, Hans, at any rate."

"Rather not; and what she'll think when she sees you I don't know."

This let in a glimmer of the truth and I made a shot. "You mean she doesn't much fancy the family arrangement?" His face told me it was a bull's-eye, but he hesitated to own it. "When a man's in my state it's only decent for his real friends to tell him the hang of things, Hans," I said as a little touch of the spur.

"I daresay it's a lot of lies now that I've seen you."

I tumbled to that, of course. "You mean that your sister has heard things which have set her against me?"

He nodded. "That you have only pretended to be out of the country all the time and then had to run away—oh, I don't know exactly what it was, but it was enough for Rosa. She always takes a different view of everything from the rest of us."

Rather good hearing. It seemed to offer a way of breaking off the engagement. "She wants to end things between us, you mean?"

"I don't know for certain, but I know what I think. She wouldn't come to the station to-night for one thing, and then, well, if I was engaged to a girl I wouldn't have her so thick with a fellow as she is with Oscar Feldmann. He's always here. But don't you breathe a word that I've told you about this."

"Not I, my dear fellow; I'm only too grateful to you. Is he in the army then?"

"Not he, but he ought to be;" and as this turned him on to the army again, I listened for a minute or two and yawned, and he took the hint and went away, promising to see me the first thing in the morning.

Things were going all right so far, and as I was really very tired, I put off my thinking until the next day, and went to sleep. In the morning I turned over the whole position in my mind and came to the conclusion that, for the present at any rate, there was only one difficulty to negotiate—that the daughter might not recognize me.

Hans' description of her was anything but alluring. She was "bossy"; inclined to oppose the others and run things on her own; she was already prejudiced against me as Lassen, and was probably ready to grasp at any excuse to break off the engagement.

That suggested a very disquieting thought. If she had heard that Lassen and I were the only cabin passengers on the Burgen, that I was the only survivor, that there was some question about my identity and that I had lost my memory, it was clear that she had only to refuse to recognize me, to free herself from the matrimonial entanglement. Obviously that must be postponed if possible.

In view of what her mother had said about the upper part of my face being most like Lassen's, it seemed a good moment to invent a bad face-ache, so that I could swathe my mouth and chin at our first meeting; and the remembrance of Lassen's rather pinched shoulders and stooping figure suggested the advisability of being in bed when she had her first inspection.

Thus when Hans came to me in the morning, he found me suffering from a severe attack of toothache with a bandage wrapped round my face, and the windows carefully curtained. He was a good-natured fellow, was genuinely sorry and, after saying Rosa was really anxious to see me, although she pretended she wasn't, went off to report.

Hans' report brought up the mother, full of solicitous sympathy and inquiries about breakfast and a suggestion that I had better stop in bed. I agreed, and she said that probably Rosa would come and see me during the morning. About an hour later all three came up together, and I augured well from the fact that Rosa was carrying a cup of tea.

She was more like Hans than her mother; fleshy, dark, and round-faced, better-looking and sharper, with fine, almost black eyes, and a certain air of masterfulness, which showed in her brisk manner and carriage. She was evidently very curious to see me.

She bustled up to the bedside, her eyes fixed on me searchingly, and her dark brows, which were rather heavy, pent and drawn together.

"So you've come at last, Johann—if you are Johann, that is," she said, as she drew up a small table and put the tea on it.

I met her look with a wan smile, turned so that she should have a good view of so much of my face as was visible, and held out my hand. "Rosa," I murmured, and waited to observe the result of her scrutiny.

"Mother said you were too ill to have any breakfast, but I knew better, so I've brought you a cup of tea," she said, managing to suggest that she had brought it less because I might like it, than because the others had declared I shouldn't.

"Thank you, Rosa, I shall relish it."

"There. You see I was right, mother," she said, and I saw I had scored. "Are you really so bad, Johann? You always were a coward in bearing pain, you know."

"Rosa!" protested the mother.

"It's true, mother. If he knocked his little toe he always thought he'd have to have his whole foot cut off. And whoever heard of a man wanting to stay in bed for a toothache?"

Better and better, this. Unintentionally I had evidently forged an important link in the identification; and then came something better still, in response to another protest from the mother.

"Nonsense, mother, it's exactly what he would do," she exclaimed sharply, and then turned again to me. "Mother thinks you're awfully altered, but I don't see it. Of course I haven't seen much of your face yet; but she always does take these queer fancies. Can't you take that thing off your face?"

"I think I'll drink the cup of tea," I replied, and drew the bandage down a little and put the cup to my lips.

To my astonishment she burst out laughing and clapped her hands. "How silly you are, mother. Why the thing's as plain as plain. He's had his teeth taken out, and that accounts for the difference you made such a fuss about. They used to stick out like this;" and she put her fingers in front of her own mouth to illustrate. "Don't you remember how we noticed the same thing when Mrs. Hopping had it done? It's made you quite passable, Johann," she declared.

"Is that it, Johann?" asked the mother, smiling.

"Is it very noticeable?" I asked, just escaping the pitfall of admitting that I remembered something about it. Rosa laughed and nodded. The ordeal was over, and the danger point passed; and soon afterwards she said she wanted to speak to me alone, and asked me to make an effort to get up.

I made the effort, laughed to myself as I cleaned my teeth that they should have been mistaken for false ones, and went downstairs to find Rosa waiting impatiently for me.

"I should have thought you could put those awful clothes on in half the time you've taken, Johann, but you were always slow in dressing," she bantered; and I was quite content to be chipped for a time until she was ready to come to the discussion of our own affairs.

"Is it true you've quite lost your memory?" she asked as Hans had done.

"The Rotterdam doctors said I should recover it. But I'm afraid I shouldn't have known even you."

"Don't you remember anything about my letters?" I shook my head. "Nor your own either?" Another wag of the head. "Well, do you still want to make me marry you?"

"I don't know. You're very pretty, Rosa."

"For Heaven's sake don't begin to pay me stupid compliments. I hate them. Hans takes good care I shan't forget my face isn't my fortune; and the moment a man begins to talk about my looks, I know he's thinking about my money. At least most of them," she qualified after a pause.

I understood the qualification. "Then there's an exception?"

She flushed slightly and was a little confused. "Yes, there is," she replied after a pause. "You'll have to know it some time, so you may as well know it now;" and she tossed her head defiantly. "I believe in coming straight to the point, Johann; and the question is whether you are still in the same mind as when you sent me that idiotic photograph, three months ago—the silly thing isn't a bit like you—and if you are, we had better face things at once."

"What did I say?" I asked, frowning.

"That you meant to hold me to the stupid engagement. But you can't do that, however much you wish. It's true that under the silly will the engagement can't be broken off till I'm five and twenty, unless you do it, but don't forget that I get half the money even if I don't marry you."

"Is that the will? It does seem silly, as you say."

"Oh, I know you believe you have the whiphand."

"Indeed, I don't know anything about it." It was really delicious to be able to tell the simple truth.

She frowned impatiently. "It's what you're thinking then," she declared rather snappily. I shook my head. What I really was considering was whether, since Lassen was at the bottom of the North Sea, I should make a friend of her by doing what she wished. "Well, anyhow, I want you to make haste and think about it all and let me know the result as soon as possible. I hate suspense, and things can't go on as they are," she continued vehemently.

I had no answer ready, and with a shrug of the shoulders she turned to another subject. "Is it true that you've turned spy?"

"Hoffnung seemed to suggest something of the sort yesterday."

She tossed her head and her lip curled. "If I were a man I'd rather be a street sweeper; but I'm not surprised at your liking it. It's these things in you that are so natural. Your new teeth may have altered your looks, but of course they haven't changed your nature."

I couldn't restrain a smile; things were panning out so well: and before I replied the door was opened gently and the loveliest child I had ever seen came in. She was a delicate-featured, golden-haired youngster of about eleven—the replica in miniature of the Countess—with big sea-blue eyes which fastened on me shyly as she stood hesitating at the door.

"What is it, Lottchen?" cried Rosa sharply. "Come in and don't stand fiddling with the door handle in that stupid fashion. This is Cousin Johann, and you needn't stand staring at him as if he would eat you."

My heart went out to the kid instantly. "How do you do, Lottchen?" I said; and she came up, put her little hand into mine and left it there, as she held up her lovely face to be kissed, and then nestled close to me trustfully.

Rosa laughed. "That's a new thing for Lottchen, I can tell you; she hates men as a rule."

"You won't hate me, Lottchen, will you?" I said, smoothing her wondrous hair. She shook her head and smiled up at me and then laid her face against my shoulder.

"Don't worry Johann. He's got a bad face-ache."

"Oh, I'm sorry. Am I hurting you?" and the great blue eyes were full of sympathy, just as her mother's had been the previous night.

"Not a bit, my dear."

"Well, you must run away now, child, you'll see plenty of Johann. What is it you want?"

"Miss Caldicott sent me to see if you're coming out with us as usual."

The name seemed to strike me in the face, and a sharp cry of amazement was out before