CHAPTER XXXII

"And now," said Mrs. Guthrie, looking at the little group of people who sat round her in the Council Chamber, "and now I have told you, almost I think word for word, everything my poor old Anna told me."

As Mr. Reynolds remained silent, she added, with a touch of defiance, "And I am quite, quite sure that she told me the truth!"

Her eyes instinctively sought the Dean's face. Yes, there she found sympathy,--sympathy and belief. It was impossible to tell what her husband was thinking. His face was not altered--it was set in stern lines of discomfort and endurance. The Government official looked sceptical.

"I have no doubt that the woman has told you a good deal of the truth, Mrs. Guthrie, but I do not think she has told you _all_ the truth, or the most important part of it. According to your belief, she accepted this very strange deposit without the smallest suspicion of the truth. Now, is it conceivable that an intelligent, sensible, elderly woman of the kind she has been described to me, could be such a fool?"

And then, for the first time since his wife had returned there from her interview with Anna, Major Guthrie intervened.

"I think you forget, Mr. Reynolds, that this took place long before the war. In fact, if I may recall certain dates to your memory, this must have been a little tiny cog in the machine which Germany began fashioning after the Agadir crisis. It was that very autumn that Anna Bauer went to visit her nephew and niece in Berlin, and it was soon after she came back that, according to her story, a stranger, with some kind of introduction from her nephew, who is, I believe, connected with the German police----"

"Is he indeed?" exclaimed Mr. Reynolds. "You never told me that!" he looked at Mrs. Guthrie.

"Didn't I?" she said. "Yes, it's quite true, Wilhelm Warshauer is a sub-inspector of police in Berlin. But I feel sure he is a perfectly respectable man."

She fortunately did not see the expression which flashed across her questioner's face. Not so the Dean. Mr. Reynolds' look stirred Dr. Haworth to a certain indignation. He had known Anna Bauer as long as her mistress had, and he had become quite fond of the poor old woman with whom he had so often exchanged pleasant greetings in German.

"Look here!" he began, in a pleasant, persuasive voice. "I have a suggestion to make, Mr. Reynolds. We have here in Witanbury a most excellent fellow, one of our city councillors. He is of German birth, but was naturalised long ago. As I expect you know, there was a little riot here last week, and this man--Alfred Head is his name--had all his windows broken. He refused to prosecute, and behaved with the greatest sense and dignity. Now I suggest that we set Alfred Head on to old Anna Bauer! I believe she would tell him things that she would not even tell her very kind and considerate mistress. I feel sure that he would find out the real truth. As a matter of fact I met him just now when I was coming down here. He was full of regret and concern, and he spoke very kindly and very sensibly of this poor old woman. He said he knew her--that she was a friend of his wife's, and he asked me if he could be of any assistance to her."

Thinking he saw a trace of hesitation on the London official's face, he added, "After all, such an interview could do no harm, and might do good. Yes, I strongly do advise that we take Alfred Head into our counsels, and explain to him exactly what it is we wish to know."

"I am quite sure," exclaimed Mrs. Guthrie impulsively, "that Anna would not tell him any more than she told me. I am convinced, not only that she told me the truth, but that she told me nothing but the truth--I don't believe she kept _anything_ back!"

Mr. Reynolds looked straight at the speaker of these impetuous words. He smiled. It was a kindly, albeit a satiric smile. He was getting quit