will be at war with Germany twenty-four hours later.”
“It is bad news. It affects, of course, what I have to say to you. It affects the position in which Miss Grey is placed. It affects my position…I fancy I hear her returning.”
“I shall ring, then, for the coffee,” Charles announced, rising to his feet. “As soon as Miss Grey comes I can hear your story and we will consider what help I can give you.”
CHAPTER XII
Patricia came quietly back, helped herself to coffee, lit a cigarette and slipped into a corner of the couch. The housekeeper explained the situation to Charles, who went in search of her.
“The very gracious young lady,” she said, “has made our task a pleasant one. She has moved us to admiration, but she is very firm. She has chosen two frocks of the least expensive stock, a travelling coat and two simple hats. She would look at nothing else. She has asked us to procure a pair of shoes and a pair of slippers, for which we have taken her measurements, and—the gnädiger Herr will pardon me—of the underclothes she has asked for two more sets to be supplied to-morrow morning with the other things. I have calculated out the amounts. I do not think that Herr Mildenhall will find the cost excessive. The Fräulein was very obstinate. The total amount of the indebtedness I have reckoned out at the figure shown here. The gnãdiger Herr may be grateful from his point of view that Fräulein is not like most of the young ladies we have to deal with.”
Charles glanced at the bill.
“But it is ridiculous!” he exclaimed.
The housekeeper shook her head sadly.
“Perhaps,” she remarked, smiling as the idea occurred to her, “Herr Mildenhall and the young lady will be in Vienna later on. They will bear in mind the fact that it is my sister who has been of assistance.”
“That is indeed exceedingly likely,” Charles agreed, “and with your permission I shall add this note for distribution between yourself and the young ladies, to compensate you for your—er—unusual services.”
The housekeeper dropped one of the curtsies of her youth.
“The gift of mein Herr is joyously accepted,” she said. “The two young ladies will join me in my thanks.”
Charles hurried back into the salon. He took a place by Patricia’s side upon the divan. Marius Blute disposed of himself in an easy chair opposite. Charles held up his hand.
“One moment,” he begged.
He pressed the bell for the waiter.
“There are omissions here,” he said, pointing to the table. “We must rectify them.”
From the waiter he ordered French brandy, an orange and lemon squash for Patricia, with a small Grand Marnier to drink with her coffee. The cigars were brought back again. The conversation began.
“My one object,” Blute said, lighting a fresh cigar, “is to save words. I want to put my situation and the situation of Miss Grey before you, sir, in as short a time as possible.”
“Excellent,” Charles murmured.
“For ten years,” Blute continued, “I have been a sort of private confidential agent to Mr. Leopold Benjamin. His need of me was based upon this idea. He was the most far-seeing man I have ever come across. He foresaw twelve years ago a state of affairs very like the present one. He employed me for one purpose and one purpose only. It was my business to travel to the cities of Europe which contained sound banking institutions, to open up a correspondence with them on his behalf so that he could deposit money there at a reasonable rate of interest and assume possession of it when the necessity arrived. I shall speak only in sterling so that you, Mr. Mildenhall, who are perhaps not a great financier, will understand in a moment. I have invested nine millions sterling for Mr. Benjamin in this fashion. It has increased in value so that it is now ten millions. Besides this he had about three millions in Vienna. Two million the Nazis stripped him of the day they sacked his bank; one million he took away with him in cash and short-dated bills. Twenty thousand pounds are somewhere waiting for Miss Grey and fifty thousand for me—but we have not the faintest idea where.”
“Let me get my breath,” Charles begged. “Did you draw no salary, Blute?”
“A splendid one,” the latter acknowledged. “I spent more than half of it in expenses, the rest I left in Benjamin’s Bank. It was taken over by the government.”
“That explains your situation,” Charles admitted. “Now, what about Miss Grey?”
“My salary,” she confided, “was six hundred pounds a year. It was lodged to an account in my name. I drew the money exactly as I required it. Two years ago I thought I should like a small car. I bought it with Mr. Benjamin’s approval. He paid for my lessons in driving and that Christmas Mrs. Benjamin gave me a brooch which must have been worth two or three hundred pounds. When the assets of the bank were devoured by the raids following the Anschluss, they helped themselves to the deposits and mine went with the rest.”
“This is all very clear,” Charles said, “but what I do not understand is this. Mr. Benjamin struck me as being a very delightful, a generous and a sympathetic person. I cannot conceive his suddenly flying out of the country and leaving you two—Miss Grey still in charge of his affairs and his secretary, and you, Blute, as his agent—without any form of farewell or without any certainty that your balances in the bank would not be touched. He must have known that if this happened you were penniless.”
“Understand at once,” Blute begged, “that neither Miss Grey nor I have a word of complaint against Leopold Benjamin. He would be incapable of any act of unkindness or inhumanity. On the night he received that terrible message and decided to leave the country he sent for us both. You will remember the occasion, Mr. Mildenhall. You yourself were dining in the house. His aeroplane was only a mile away. He told us his decision. We agreed that it was for the best. He laid upon us both a special task. He knew quite well that it would cost a great deal of money. We have both been working upon it for the last two years. He handed over to us, before he departed, ten thousand pounds in Bank of England notes. We were to deduct our own expenses or balances at the bank from this and the rest was to go towards the responsibility he laid upon us. Mr. Benjamin was princely in his departure from us as he had been through his life. He is not to be blamed in the least for our misfortunes or that we have come very near starvation.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Charles declared. “I hate to be disappointed in people. I believed in Mr. Benjamin. Now then, we come to the pith of the story. What happened to all the money?”
“The simplest, most foolish thing that could possibly happen,” Blute groaned. “To carry an amount like that about with me was an utter impossibility. Miss Grey felt just the same about it. What we had to do for Mr. Benjamin was a costly affair. I spent a thousand pounds of it the first day, a second thousand the next day. By that time the trouble was getting worse here. Miss Grey, at my suggestion, decided to send a thousand pounds back to America. We arranged that. I sent my wife back home with another two thousand. We pooled the rest and I let Miss Grey have such money as she wanted as occasion arose. She was still living in the house. I was living not a quarter of a mile away—soon I shall have occasion to tell
