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Page 37
He knocked out the ashes from his last pipe and rose briskly. His
decision was made, but its success was on the knees of the great god
Luck.
CHAPTER VII
BILLY HAS HIS DOUBTS
The encounter in the bazaars that Thursday afternoon brought one
more result to young Hill besides the bruise upon his chin and the
privilege of bowing to Lady Claire and her vigilant chaperon, and
the presence of Lady Claire's little handkerchief in his coat
pocket.
It brought a young German, scrupulously sober, soberly apologetic,
in formal state to Billy's hotel upon Friday morning, whose card
announced him to be Frederick von Deigen and whose speech proclaimed
him to be utterly aghast at his own untoward behavior.
"I was not myself," he owned, with a sigh and a melancholy twist of
his upstanding mustaches. "I had been lunching alone--and it is bad
to lunch alone when one has a sadness. One drinks--to forget.... But
you are too young to understand." He waved his hand in compliment to
Billy's youth, then continued, with increasing energy, "But when I
find what _dummheit_ I have done--how I have so rudely addressed the
young Fr�ulein with you, and have used my fists upon you, even to
the point of hurling you upon the street--I have no words for my
shame."
"Oh, it wasn't exactly a hurl," Billy easily amended. "There was a
banana peel where my heel happened to be--and I wasn't half
scrapping. I could see you weren't yourself."
"Indeed no! Would I," he struck himself gloomily upon the breast,
"would I intrude upon a young Fr�ulein, and attack her protector? It
was that bottle--that last bottle.... I knew--at the time.... I
offer you my apology. I can do no more--unless you would have
satisfaction--no?"
"I guess I had all the satisfaction that was coming to me
yesterday," said Billy. "You've got a fist like a professional. But
there's no harm done.... Only you want to get over taking that last
bottle and offering presents to young ladies," he concluded, with an
accent of youthful severity.
The German nodded a depressed head. His melancholy, bloodshot eyes
fixed themselves sadly upon Billy. "Ach, it is so," he assented
meekly, "but when one has a sadness--" He sighed.
"Yes, of course, that's tough," agreed Billy sympathetically. "I
hate a sadness."
"Perhaps you have known--?" The other's eyes lifted toward him, then
dropped dispiritedly. "But, no, you are too young. But I--Ach!" He
added in his own tongue a line of which Billy caught _geliebt_ and
_gelebt_, and so nodded understandingly.
"That geliebing business is bad stuff," he returned, and again the
other tugged at his mustaches with a nervous hand and shook his big
blond head.
"She was to have met me here," he said abruptly. "She wrote--I was
to come quick--and then she comes not. That is woman, the _ewige
weibliche_." He scowled. "But, Gott, how enchantment was in her!"
Billy heard himself sigh in unison. The phrase suggested Arlee. And
the situation was not dissimilar. He felt a positive sympathy for
the big blond fellow in his pronounced clothes and glossy boots and
careful boutonni�re.... He smiled in friendly fashion.
"She'll come along yet," he prophesied, "and if she doesn't, just
you go out after her. I wouldn't take too many chances in the
waiting game."
The German shook his head. His blue eyes swam with sentimental
moisture. "You do not understand," he said. "She went with
another--I must wait for her to come away. I have no address--so?"
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