I told the Jew my opinion when the rest had left us; but he explained it away as no more than the caution natural under the circumstances.
However, the main thing I cared about was the arrangement that I was to be the go-between with von Felsen in getting the papers; and as any hour might bring the news that he had obtained them, Ziegler and I were to keep in constant touch.
But the more I thought over the afternoon’s interviews the less I liked the look of things, and the stronger grew the impression that there was something crooked. I began to worry myself with the fear that the plan on which so much depended would go wrong.
For the first time, also, there was something like a cloud between Althea and myself as the result of the news Chalice had told her. She said little more than that she knew what had been done; but added that, as there was no longer any reason for her to remain with us, she had decided to return home on the following morning.
I took this as a sign of her dissatisfaction at my action; and as I was in a fretful and rather irritable mood, I just held my tongue. The evening was thus passed with a feeling of restraint which all Bessie’s efforts could not remove.
I sat worrying over matters for a few minutes after they had left me, and at length grew so uneasy that I resolved to go at once to Ziegler to thresh out with him my doubts about his friends. I could not rest quiet or shake off the sense of impending trouble; and I soon had a tragic and terrible confirmation of my fears.
I was close to his house when I met Hagar rushing along the street distraught with terror. She was bareheaded, her eyes wide and fright-stricken, and she was so absorbed by her agitation, that she did not see me and did not even hear me when I first called to her.
"What has happened?" I asked, seizing her arm.
She tried at first to break away from me with a cry of fear, as if not recognizing me.
"I am Mr. Bastable, your father’s friend. Tell me what is the matter."
She looked at me with a dazed expression, trembling violently the while, and then, with a great effort as if her emotion were choking her, she told me.
"I was coming to you. Oh, Herr Bastable, my father is dead. He has been murdered. Oh God! Oh God!"