We Two [111]
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.
Haeberlein had taken a newspaper out of his pocket, and was searching for something. The gas light fell on his clean-shaven face, revealing a sweet-tempered mouth, keen blue eyes, a broad German forehead, and closely cropped iron-gray hair. Erica thought him scarcely altered since their last meeting. He threw down his newspaper as she approached.
"Well, my Herzblattchen!" he exclaimed, saluting her with a double kiss, "so you are not ashamed of your old friend? So," holding her at arms' length and regarding her critically, POtztausend! The English girls do beat ours all to nothing. Well, my Liebchen, dost thou remember the day when thou carried the Casati dispatches in thy geography book under the very nose of a spy? It was a brave deed that, and it saved a brave man's life."
Erica smiled and colored. "I was not so brave as I seemed," she said. "My heart was beating so loud, I thought people must hear it."
"Has thou never heard the saying of the first Napoleon, 'The bravest man is he who can conceal his fear?' I do not come under that category, for I never had fear never felt it. Thou wouldst not dream, Herzblattchen, that spies are at this moment dogging my steps while I jest here with thee?"
"Is that indeed true?" exclaimed Erica.
They explained to her a little more of Haeberlein's errand and the risk he ran; he alluded to his hopes that Raeburn might not be involved in any unpleasant consequences. Erica grew pale at the bare suggestion.
"See," exclaimed Haeberlein, "the little one cares more for your reputation than you do yourself, my friend. See what it is to have a daughter who can be afraid for you, though she can not be afraid for herself! But, Liebchen, Thou must not blame me for coming to see him. Think! My best friend, and unseen for seven years!"
"It is worth a good deal of risk," said Erica, brightly. But as the terror or having her father's name mentioned in connection with Herr Kellner's once more returned to her, she added, pleadingly, "And you WILL be careful when you leave the house?"
"Yes, indeed," said Haeberlein. See what a disguise I have."
He hastily donned the black wig, mustache and eyebrows, and the long Italian cloak.
Erica looked at him critically.
"Art thou not satisfied?" he asked.
"Not a bit," she said, promptly. "In London every one would turn to look twice at such a dress as that, which is what you want to avoid. Besides, those eyebrows are so outrageous, so evidently false."
She thought for a minute.
"My brown Inverness," suggested Raeburn.
"Too thick for a summer night," said Erica, "and" glancing from her father to Haeberlein "too long to look natural. I think Tom's ulster and traveling hat would be better."
"Commend me to a woman when you want sound advice!" cried Haeberlein.
Erica went to search Tom's room for the ulster, and in the meantime Haeberlein showed his friend a paragraph in one of the evening papers which proved to Raeburn that the risk was indeed very great. They were discussing things much more gravely when Erica returned.
"The stations will be watched," Haeberlein
"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.
Haeberlein had taken a newspaper out of his pocket, and was searching for something. The gas light fell on his clean-shaven face, revealing a sweet-tempered mouth, keen blue eyes, a broad German forehead, and closely cropped iron-gray hair. Erica thought him scarcely altered since their last meeting. He threw down his newspaper as she approached.
"Well, my Herzblattchen!" he exclaimed, saluting her with a double kiss, "so you are not ashamed of your old friend? So," holding her at arms' length and regarding her critically, POtztausend! The English girls do beat ours all to nothing. Well, my Liebchen, dost thou remember the day when thou carried the Casati dispatches in thy geography book under the very nose of a spy? It was a brave deed that, and it saved a brave man's life."
Erica smiled and colored. "I was not so brave as I seemed," she said. "My heart was beating so loud, I thought people must hear it."
"Has thou never heard the saying of the first Napoleon, 'The bravest man is he who can conceal his fear?' I do not come under that category, for I never had fear never felt it. Thou wouldst not dream, Herzblattchen, that spies are at this moment dogging my steps while I jest here with thee?"
"Is that indeed true?" exclaimed Erica.
They explained to her a little more of Haeberlein's errand and the risk he ran; he alluded to his hopes that Raeburn might not be involved in any unpleasant consequences. Erica grew pale at the bare suggestion.
"See," exclaimed Haeberlein, "the little one cares more for your reputation than you do yourself, my friend. See what it is to have a daughter who can be afraid for you, though she can not be afraid for herself! But, Liebchen, Thou must not blame me for coming to see him. Think! My best friend, and unseen for seven years!"
"It is worth a good deal of risk," said Erica, brightly. But as the terror or having her father's name mentioned in connection with Herr Kellner's once more returned to her, she added, pleadingly, "And you WILL be careful when you leave the house?"
"Yes, indeed," said Haeberlein. See what a disguise I have."
He hastily donned the black wig, mustache and eyebrows, and the long Italian cloak.
Erica looked at him critically.
"Art thou not satisfied?" he asked.
"Not a bit," she said, promptly. "In London every one would turn to look twice at such a dress as that, which is what you want to avoid. Besides, those eyebrows are so outrageous, so evidently false."
She thought for a minute.
"My brown Inverness," suggested Raeburn.
"Too thick for a summer night," said Erica, "and" glancing from her father to Haeberlein "too long to look natural. I think Tom's ulster and traveling hat would be better."
"Commend me to a woman when you want sound advice!" cried Haeberlein.
Erica went to search Tom's room for the ulster, and in the meantime Haeberlein showed his friend a paragraph in one of the evening papers which proved to Raeburn that the risk was indeed very great. They were discussing things much more gravely when Erica returned.
"The stations will be watched," Haeberlein