Part 56 (1/2)
”Of course she wants me.”
”Or of course you want her? Very good. Yours is the responsibility, not mine. Her address is the Hotel d'Angleterre. Shall I write it down for you? There it is. 'Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne.' Now you will not forget.
She will remain there for one fortnight only. After that, I cannot say whither she may go. And, as all her things have been sent away, and as I am going away, I am not likely to hear.”
”Oh I must go to her. I must find her!” cried the woman earnestly; ”if it is only to make sure that no evil is intended for her.”
”That is your business. For my own part, I know of no one who can wish her ladys.h.i.+p any evil.”
”Is my lord with her?”
”I don't know whether that is your business. I have already told you that he is gone. If you join your mistress in Berne, you will very soon find out if he is there as well.” Something in his tone made f.a.n.n.y look up quickly. But his face revealed nothing. ”What shall you do then?”
asked the doctor. ”You must make up your mind quickly whether you will go back to England or whether you will go on to Switzerland. You cannot stay here, because I am putting together the last things, and I shall give the landlord the key of the house this evening. All the bills are paid, and I am going to leave the place.”
”I do not understand. There is the patient,” she murmured vaguely.
”What does it mean? I cannot understand.”
”My good creature,” he replied roughly, ”what the devil does it matter to me whether you understand or whether you do not understand? Her ladys.h.i.+p is, as I have told you, at Berne. If you please to follow her there, do so. It is your own affair, not mine. If you prefer to go back to London, do so. Still--your own affair. Is there anything else to say?”
Nothing. f.a.n.n.y took up her box--this time the doctor did not offer to carry it for her.
”Where are you going?” he asked. ”What have you decided?”
”I can get round by the Chemin de Fer de Ceinture to the Lyons station.
I shall take the first cheap train which will take me to Berne.”
”Bon voyage!” said the doctor, cheerfully, and shut the door.
It is a long journey from Paris to Berne even for those who can travel first cla.s.s and express--that is, if sixteen hours can be called a long journey. For those who have to jog along by third cla.s.s, stopping at all the little country stations, it is a long and tedious journey indeed. The longest journey ends at last. The train rolled slowly into the station of Berne, and f.a.n.n.y descended with her box. Her wanderings were over for the present. She would find her mistress and be at rest.
She asked to be directed to the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Swiss guardian of the peace with the c.o.c.ked hat stared at her. She repeated the question.
”Hotel d'Angleterre?” he echoed. ”There is no Hotel d'Angleterre in Berne.”
”Yes, yes; there is. I am the maid of a lady who is staying at that hotel.”
”No; there is no Hotel d'Angleterre,” he reported. ”There is the Hotel Bernehof.”
”No.” She took out the paper and showed it to him--”Lady Harry Norland, Hotel d'Angleterre, Berne.”
”There is the Hotel de Belle Vue, the Hotel du Faucon, the Hotel Victoria, the Hotel Schweizerhof. There is the Hotel schrodel, the Hotel Schneider, the Pension Simkin.”
f.a.n.n.y as yet had no other suspicion than that the doctor had accidentally written a wrong name. Her mistress was at Berne: she would be in one of the hotels. Berne is not a large place. Very good; she would go round to the hotels and inquire. She did so. There are not, in fact, more than half a dozen hotels in Berne where an English lady could possibly stay. f.a.n.n.y went to every one of these. No one had heard of any such lady: they showed her the lists of their visitors. She inquired at the post-office. No lady of that name had asked for letters. She asked if there were any pensions, and went round them all--uselessly.
No other conclusion was possible. The doctor had deceived her wilfully.
To get her out of the way he sent her to Berne. He would have sent her to Jericho if her purse had been long enough to pay the fare. She was tricked.
She counted her money. There was exactly twenty-eight s.h.i.+llings and tenpence in her purse.
She went back to the cheapest (and dirtiest) of the pensions she had visited. She stated her case--she had missed milady her mistress--she must stay until she should receive orders to go on, and money--would they take her in until one or the other arrived? Certainly. They would take her in, at five francs a day, payable every morning in advance.