Роберт Чамберс - Who Goes There!

"What does that mean?" exclaimed Guild, under his breath.

Both had halted, checked by the same impulse.

"Is it likely to be Baron von Reiter?" he asked, coldly.

She said, with admirable composure: "Whoever it is, we shall have to go in."

"Yes, of course…. But if it happens to be the Baron―"

"Well?" she asked, looking away from him.

"In that event, have you nothing to say to me— now ?"

"Not now."

"Haven't you, Karen?"

She shook her head, gazing steadily away from him.

"All right," he said, controlling his voice; "then I can make my adieux to you indoors as well as here."

"Are you leaving immediately?"

"Yes. I should have left this morning."

After a moment's silence: "Shall I hear from you?"

"Have I your permission to write—if I can do so?"

"I don't know yet. I shall write you first. Are you to be at Lesse Forest for a few days?"

"Yes. A note will reach me in care of Mrs. Courland."

Her pretty head was still averted. "We ought to go in now," she said.

Guild glanced sharply at the car as they passed it, and the chauffeur touched his cap to them. It was a big, dark blue, three–seated touring car, and there seemed to be nothing at all military in its appointments or in the chauffeur's livery.

He opened the front door for Karen, and they walked into the hall together.

A man rose quickly from a leather chair, as though he were a little lame. "Hello, Kervyn!" he said gaily, advancing with hand extended. "How are you, old top!"

"Harry!" exclaimed Guild; "I'm terribly glad to see you!"

They stood for a moment smiling at each other, hand clasped in hand. Then Darrel said:

"When your note came this morning, we decided to motor over, Miss Courland and I—" He turned toward a brown–eyed, blond young girl: "Valentine, this is the celebrated vanishing man I've been worrying over so long. You may not think he is worth worrying over, now that you see him, and maybe he isn't; but somehow or other I like him."

Miss Courland laughed. "I think I shall like him, too," she said, "now that I know he isn't merely a figment of your imagination—" She turned her brown eyes, pleasantly and a trifle curiously, toward Karen, who had paused beside the long table—a lithe and graceful figure in silhouette against the brilliancy of the sun–lit doorway.

"Karen," said Guild, "this is Miss Courland who extends her own and Mrs. Courland's charity to me—" He checked himself, smiling. " Do you still extend it, Miss Courland?"

Valentine had come forward and had offered her hand to Karen, and retaining it for a second, she turned to answer Guild:

"Of course! We came to take you back with us." And, to Karen: "It isn't a very gracious thing for us to do—to steal a guest from Quellenheim—and I am afraid you do not feel very grateful toward me for doing it."

Their hands parted and their eyes rested on each other for a second's swift feminine appraisal.

"Baron von Reiter has not yet arrived," said Karen, "so I do not think Mr. Guild has had a very interesting visit. I feel as though I ought to thank you for asking him to Lesse."

Guild, who was talking to Darrel, heard her, and gave her a rather grim look.

Then he presented Darrel; and the light, gossipy conversation became general.

With one ear on duty and one listening to Darrel, Guild heard Karen giving to Valentine a carelessly humorous outline of her journey from England—caught the little exclamations of interest and sympathy from the pretty brown–eyed American girl, and still was able to sketch for Darrel the same theme from his own more sober point of view.

Neither he nor Karen, of course, spoke of the reason for Guild's going to England, nor that the journey had been undertaken on compulsion, nor, indeed, did they hint at anything concerning the more sinister and personal side of the affair. It merely appeared that a German general, presumably a friend of Guild, not being able to get his daughter out of England after hostilities had commenced, had confided the task to a man he trusted and who was able to go unquestioned into a country at war with his own. But it all seemed quite romantic enough, even under such circumstances, to thrill Valentine Courland.

"Do come back to Lesse with us, won't you?" she asked Karen. "My mother and I would love to have you. You'd be bored to distraction here with only the housekeeper. Do come!"

"I haven't any clothes," said Karen frankly.

"I have loads of them! We'd be so glad to have you at Lesse. Won't you come back with us?"

Karen laughed, enchanted. She could see Guild without looking at him. His attitude was eloquent.

"If you really do want me, I'll come," she said. "But you and Mr. Darrel will remain to luncheon, won't you? I'll speak to the Frau Förster—if I may be excused—" She fell for a moment again, unconsciously, into her quaint schoolgirl manner, and dropped them a little curtsey.

Guild opened the pantry door for her and held it.

"May I explain to them a little more clearly who you are, Karen?" he asked in a low voice.

"Yes, please."

He came back into the hall where Miss Courland and Darrel were talking. Valentine turned swiftly.

"Isn't she the sweetest thing!" exclaimed the girl warmly.

"She is really very wonderful," said Guild; "let me tell you a little about her accomplishments and herself."

They were still listening to Guild, with an interest which absorbed them, when Karen returned.

"The few clothes I have," she said, "are being repacked by Frau Bergner. Kervyn, shall she repack your sack?"

"No, I'll do that," he said, turning away with the happiest face he had worn that morning. And the girl knew that it was because they were going away together again—taking life's highway once more in each other's company. Involuntarily she looked after him, conscious for a second, again, of new and powerful motives, new currents, new emotions invading her; and she wondered how vitally they concerned this man who had so suddenly destroyed a familiar world for her and as suddenly was offering her as substitute a new and strange one.

Emerging from her brief abstraction she looked across the hall at Valentine Courland, who, seated on the oak table, chatted animatedly with Darrel. The girl was exceedingly attractive; Karen realized that at once. Also this pretty American had said very frankly that she was certain to like Guild. Karen had heard her say it.

"Miss Girard," said Darrel, "is the shooting good at Quellenheim? I imagine it must be, judging from these trophies." He waved a comprehensive hand toward the walls of the room.

Karen came slowly over to Valentine: "I really don't know much about shooting. There are boar and deer here. I suppose at Lesse Forest you have really excellent sport, don't you?"

"Our guests seem to find the shooting good," replied Valentine. "My mother and I go out with them sometimes. I don't know whether we shall be able to offer anybody any shooting this autumn. We are exceedingly worried about Lesse Forest. You see, every autumn we renew the lease, but our lease expired last week, and we can't renew it because nobody seems to know where our landlord is or where to find him."

"Is your landlord Belgian?"

"Yes. He is a wealthy brewer at Wiltz–la–Vallée. And the Germans bombarded and burnt it—everything is in ruins and the people fled or dead. So we are really very much concerned about the possible fate of our landlord, Monsieur Paillard, and we don't exactly know what to do."

Guild returned, coming downstairs two at a time, his attractive features very youthful and animated. And Karen, discreetly observing him and his buoyant demeanour, felt a swift and delightful confusion in the knowledge of her power to make or unmake the happiness of a grown man.