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fellow looks like his father, acts like him, and keeps him in everybody's thoughts; even the

visitors, the guests. Everybody has heard rumors that Johannes Robin has been deprived of

his fortune by the Nazis, and that his grandchild is here, a refugee and pensioner; everybody is

interested in him, asks questions, and starts talking about the father—where is he, and what do

you think, and what are you doing about it? The fate of Freddi Robin overshadows even the

Barnes fortune, even the twenty-three-million-dollar baby! Bienvenu becomes as it were a

haunted house, a somber and serious place where people fall to talking about politics, and

where the frivolous ones do not feel at home. Irma Barnes certainly never meant to choose

that kind of atmosphere!

III

There wasn't anything definite the matter with Lady Caillard, so far as any doctor could

find out; but she had got her mind thoroughly made up that she was going to join her

"Vinnie" in the spirit world, and sure enough, in the month of January she "passed on." The

funeral was held, and then her will was read. She had left to her friend Mrs. Parsifal Dingle her

large clock with the gold and ivory bird that sang; a pleasant memento of "Birdie," and one about

which there would be no controversy. The medium to whom the Vickers stock had been

promised got nothing but a headache out of it, for the directors of the huge concern were

determined to protect Sir Vincent's son and daughter, and they worked some sort of hocus-

pocus with the stock; they "called" it, and since the estate didn't have the cash to put up, the

company took possession of the stock and ultimately the legitimate heirs got it. There was a lot

of fuss about it in the papers, and Lanny was glad his mother and his stepfather were not mixed

up in it.

With the proceeds of their dramatic success Nina and Rick had got a small car. Rick couldn't

drive, on account of his knee, but his wife drove, and now they brought the Dingles to the

Riviera, and stayed for a while as guests in the villa. Rick used Kurt's old studio to work on an

anti-Nazi play, based on the Brown Book, the stories Lanny had told him, and the literature

Kurt and Heinrich had been sending him through the years. It would be called a melodrama,

Rick said—because the average Englishman refused to believe that there could be such people

as the Nazis, or that such things could be happening in Europe in the beginning of the year

1934. Rick said furthermore that when the play was produced, Lanny would no longer be able

to pose as a fellow-traveler of the Hitlerites, for they would certainly find out where the play

had been written.

Lanny was glad to have this old friend near, the one person to whom he could talk out his

heart. Brooding over the problem of Freddi Robin day and night, Lanny had about made up

his mind to go to Berlin, ask for another interview with General Göring, and put his cards on the

table, saying: "Exzellenz, I have learned that my brother-in-law's brother is a prisoner in

Dachau, and I would like very much to take him out of Germany. I have about two hundred

thousand marks in a Berlin bank which I got from sales of my stepfather's paintings, and I have

an equal amount in a New York bank which I earned as commissions on old masters purchased

in your country. I would be glad to turn these sums over to you to use in your propaganda, in

return for the freedom of my friend."

Rick said: "But you can't do such a thing, Lanny! It would be monstrous."

"You mean he wouldn't take the money?"

"I haven't any doubt that he'd take it. But you'd be aiding the Nazi cause."

"I don't think he'd use the money for that. I'm just saying so to make it sound respectable.

He'd salt the New York funds away, and spend the German part on his latest girl friend."

"You say that to make it sound respectable to yourself," countered Rick. "You don't know

what he'd spend the money for, and you can't get away from the fact that you'd be

strengthening the Nazi propaganda. It's just as preposterous as your idea of giving Göring

information about British and French public men."

"I wouldn't give him any real information, Rick. I would only tell him things that are known

to our sort."

"Göring is no fool and you can't make him one. Either you'd give him something he wants,

or you wouldn't get what you want. He has made that perfectly plain to you, and that's why

Freddi is still in Dachau—if he is."

"You think I have to leave him there?"

"You do, unless you can work out some kind of jailbreak."

"I'd have to pay somebody, Rick—even if it was only a jailer."

"There'd be no great harm in paying a jailer, because the amount would be small, and you'd

be undermining the Nazi discipline. Every prisoner who escapes helps to do that."

"You think I did wrong to help Johannes out?"

"I don't think that made much difference, because Johannes would have given up anyhow;

he's that sort of man. He thinks about himself and not about a cause."

"You wouldn't have done it in his place?"