your salon here,” Blute continued, “with access to the back service stairs, we have a sanctuary. I have a room leading out to the fire escape which I shall use instead of the stairs or lift if I think it advisable. Miss Grey here mingles with the servants and the hired help of the establishment. You, Mr. Mildenhall, make no attempt at concealment. You are the wealthy and distinguished patron of the hotel. If we should by any evil chance come face to face at any time there must not be the slightest suggestion of recognition.”
“I absolutely agree with Mr. Blute,” Patricia said earnestly. “You are running great and unnecessary risks for our sakes, Charles. I would never forgive myself if anything happened in these last few hours, nor, I am sure, would Mr. Blute.”
“If I might make a suggestion,” Blute said, “I think that a stroll across the square and a half-hour on view alone, Mr. Mildenhall, would be an excellent idea. I hope, too, that you will show yourself in the bar and restaurant here as usual on every opportunity. You are a well-known figure in Vienna when you pass through and people might very well wonder where you had spent your time here if you are not visible at any of the show places.”
“I am crushed,” Charles acknowledged. “I will swagger about the place presently and leave you two to go your own way for a time. If you want me, telephone to Herodin. I’ll leave word where I am. Don’t stint the ‘quiet money,’ Blute. Remember that an odd fifty pounds here and there may make all the difference.”
“You’ve been setting us a pretty good example of spending money,” Patricia observed, leaning forward to sniff at the bowl of roses upon the table.
“Roses in Vienna are like cabbages in White-chapel,” he answered. “You find them wherever you go.”
Once more a knock at the door. Joseph made his reappearance, calm but triumphant.
“Mein Herr,” he said, addressing Charles, “I have succeeded, but I have bought the railway! At least, so it seems to me—a poor man. I have arranged for the van, I have arranged that it shall be attached to the eight o’clock train to-morrow morning on one condition—that whatever you are sending in it shall be in the yard before midnight. It is yard number seven, to be reached from the Weltenstrasse.”
Patricia leaned back and clapped her hands.
“That is precisely what we were hoping for!” she exclaimed. “Not ten minutes ago. Monsieur Joseph, we were saying that it would be a great deal off our minds if we could get the van linked up tonight.”
“It is arranged,” Joseph announced. “To tell you the truth, Fräulein, the guard is waiting outside. With him, too, the preliminaries have been broached. He has consented to help in your scheme. I must warn you, Herr Mildenhall, that you will now have to face a shock.”
He handed over a slip of paper.
“For that I have bought the railway,” he murmured.
Charles glanced at the amount and smiled.
“It is an amazing feat, Joseph,” he declared. “On the other hand it is an absurdity. You have bought the railway, perhaps, for our interests, but for yourself, your wife, your children, your son’s wife—what remains? Nothing. Patricia, you must see to this. Joseph is robbing himself. You will provide him at once with another thousand reichsmarks.”
Joseph’s bow was equal to the bow of any courtier who had ever entered the royal palace.
“Monsieur is a Prince!”
“Bring in your guard,” Charles begged. “I am being dismissed from this assembly, Joseph, just when I am getting a little fun out of it. Bring in your guard that I may deal with him. And wait,” he went on, laying his hand upon the man’s shoulder, “when you come to fetch him away see that you are accompanied by Frederick, the second barman in the American Bar. See that he brings with him four carefully mixed dry Martinis still in the shaker with the ice just dropped in, also four glasses. And Joseph, see that the glasses are not too small. Frederick himself calls them doubles, I believe.”
“Der gnãdiger Herr shall be obeyed,” Joseph murmured. “I fetch now the guard. Afterwards I shall send word to Frederick.”
He disappeared for a moment and returned ushering in a stalwart-looking elderly official in the uniform of the Austrian Railway Company. The newcomer carried himself in soldierly fashion. His grey hair was neatly parted, he wore a closely clipped grey beard and he had more the appearance of a gentleman farmer than a railway official. He carried his cap in his hand. He bowed to Patricia, he smiled in more familiar fashion to Mr. Blute and he bowed respectfully to Charles. He nodded a temporary farewell to Joseph, who disappeared.
“I understand, Mr. Guard, that you are willing to help my two friends and myself in a rather sad little enterprise to which we are committed,” Charles began.
“It will give me much satisfaction to be of service,” the official replied. “Often it has been my pleasure, Herr Mildenhall, to number you amongst my patrons, more especially when I conducted the Orient Express. You had diplomatic privileges and to serve you was an honour. The present occasion, I gather, is purely a private one.”
“Entirely so,” Charles admitted. “I am here to do all that I can to help my friend Mr. Marius Blute, who is a connection of the four young people who met with their deaths in a motor accident three or four days ago.”
“A sad affair,” the man sighed.
“Mr. Blute has brought their bodies down here and the relatives are almost passionately anxious that they should be taken to Switzerland. As you perhaps realize, Europe to-morrow will probably again be in a state of war. We ourselves, therefore, must pass into a neutral country.”
“The situation presents many complications,” the guard remarked dubiously.
“Not so many as you would think,” Charles insisted. “I am sure you will agree with me presently that they are all capable of solution. The eight o’clock train, which you will take charge of from here to Innsbruck and afterwards into Switzerland, is the last train to run before the closing of the frontiers. We have bespoken through Joseph a van for the four coffins, accommodations for the four guards who will travel with them and a place for three plain cases which contain the effects of the victims. These will not require to pass through the Customs in the usual way. Nothing, therefore, need be disturbed in the van at the frontier.”
“If you entrust me with the carrying out of this programme,” the official promised, “you may consider the matter arranged. The only condition is that the coffins and boxes are brought to where the van will be waiting for them on siding number seven Weltenstrasse this evening between ten and twelve o’clock. I have postponed a dinner of celebration which some friends were giving me to be there in person.”
“This gentleman here, Mr. Blute, will look after everything,” Charles said. “He will come down with the caskets himself. He will be at the place you say at the time you name. The station van, as you know, is already arranged for.”
“I have been warned of that by the authorities, sir,” the man replied. “They have admitted that the circumstance is entirely unusual, but it is undertaken at the desire of a very distinguished Englishman to whom they wish to render service.”
The official bowed to Charles. Charles returned the courtesy.
“That’s all clear, then,” the latter said. “Now comes this important
