Any one who has travelled in the Valley of the Donau knows the Rempf Hotel. It is an ancient hostelry, frequented quite as much in these days as it was in olden times by people who are by way of knowing the excellence¹ of its cuisine² and the character of its wines. Unless one possesses this intelligence, either through hearsay³ or experience, he will pass by the Rempf without so much as a glance at its rather forbidding exterior⁴ and make for the modern hotel on the platz, thereby⁵ missing one of the most interesting spots in this grim old town. Is it to the fashionable Bellevue that the nobility and the elect wend their way when they come to town? Not by any means. They affect the Rempf, and there you may see them in fat, inglorious plenty smugly execrating⁶ the plebeian⁷ rich of many lands who dismiss Rempf's with a sniff⁸, and enjoying to their heart's content a privacy which the aforesaid rich would not consider at any price.  
You may be quite sure that the rates are low at the historic Rempf, and that they would be much lower if the nobility had anything to say about it. One can get a very comfortable room, without bath, at the Rempf for a dollar a day, provided he gets in ahead of the native aristocracy. If he insists on having a room with bath he is guilty of lese majeste and is sent on his way.
 
But, bath or no bath, the food is the best in the entire valley and the cellar without a rival.
 
I found Mr. Pless at the Rempf at nine o'clock. He was in his room when I entered the quaint⁹ old place and approached the rotund manager with considerable uncertainty¹⁰ in my manner. For whom was I to inquire? Would he be known there as Pless?
 
The manager gave me a broad (I was about to say serviceable) smile and put my mind at rest by blandly¹¹ inquiring if I was the gentleman who wished to see Mr. Pless. He directed me to the top floor of the hotel and I mounted two flights of stairs at the heels of a porter who exercised native thrift¹² by carrying up a large trunk, thus saving time and steps after a fashion, although it may be hard to see wherein he really benefited when I say that after escorting me to a room on the third floor and knocking at the door while balancing the trunk on his back, he descended¹⁴ to the second and delivered his burden in triumph to the lady who had been calling for it since six o'clock in the evening. But even at that he displayed considerable cunning in not forgetting what room the luggage belonged in, thereby saving himself a trip all the way down to the office and back with the trunk.
 
Mr. Pless welcomed me with a great deal of warmth. He called me "dear old fellow" and shook hands with me with more heartiness¹⁵ than I had thought him capable of expressing. His dark, handsome face was aglow¹⁶ with pleasure. He was quite boyish. A smallish old gentleman was with him. My introduction to the stranger was a sort of afterthought, it seemed to me. I was informed that he was one of the greatest lawyers and advocates in Vienna and Mr. Pless's personal adviser¹⁷ in the "unfortunate controversy¹⁸."
 
I accepted a cigar.
 
"So you knew who I was all the time I was at Schloss Rothhoefen," said Mr. Pless, smiling amiably¹⁹. "I was trying to maintain my incognito²⁰ so that you might not be distressed²¹, Mr. Smart, by having in your home such a notorious character as I am supposed to be. I confess it was rather shabby in me, but I hold your excellent friends responsible for the trick."
 
"It is rather difficult to keep a secret with women about," said I evasively.
 
"But never difficult to construct one," said Mr. Schymansky, winking²² rather too broadly. I think Schymansky was the name.
 
"By the way," said I, "I have had no word from our mutual²³ friends. Have you seen them?"
 
Mr. Pless stiffened²⁴. His face grew perceptibly older.
 
"I regret to inform you, Mr. Smart, that our relations are not quite as friendly as they once were. I have reason to suspect that Mr. Smith has been working against me for the past two or three days, to such an extent, I may say, that the Ambassador now declines to advise your government to grant us certain privileges we had hoped to secure without trouble. In short, we have just heard that he will not ask the United States to consider anything in the shape of an extradition²⁵ if the Countess is apprehended²⁶ in her own country. Up to yesterday we felt confident that he would advise your State Department to turn the child over to our representatives in case she is to be found there. There has been underhand work going on, and Mr. Smith is at the bottom of it. He wantonly insulted me the day we left Rothhoefen. I have challenged him, but he—he committed the most diabolical²⁷ breach²⁸ of etiquette²⁹ by threatening to kick my friend the Baron³⁰ out of his rooms when he waited upon him yesterday morning."
 
With difficulty I restrained a desire to shout the single word: "Good!" I was proud of Billy Smith. Controlling my exultation³¹, I merely said: "Perfectly³² diabolical! Perfectly!"
 
"I have no doubt, however, should our Minister make a formal demand upon your Secretary of State, the cause of justice would be sustained. It is a clear case of abduction, as you so forcibly declare in the interviews, Mr. Smart. I cannot adequately express my gratification for the stand you have taken. Will you be offended if I add that it was rather unexpected? I had the feeling that you were against me, that you did not like me."
 
I smiled deprecatingly. "As I seldom read the newspapers, I am not quite sure that they have done justice to my real feelings in the matter."
 
The lawyer sitting directly opposite to me, was watching my face intently. "They quoted you rather freely, sir," said he. Instinctively³³ I felt that here was a wily person whom it would be difficult to deceive. "The Count is to be congratulated upon having the good will of so distinguished³⁴ a gentleman as John Bellamy Smart. It will carry great weight, believe me."
 
"Oh, you will find to your sorrow that I cut a very small figure in national politics," said I. "Pray do not deceive yourselves."
 
"May I offer you a brandy and soda³⁵?" asked Mr. Pless, tapping sharply on the table top with his seal ring. Instantly his French valet, still bearing faint traces of the drubbing he had sustained at Britton's hands, appeared in the bedchamber door.
 
"Thank you, no," I made haste to say. "I am on the water wagon³⁶."
 
"I beg your pardon," said Mr. Pless in perplexity.
 
"I am not drinking, Mr. Pless," I explained.
 
"Sorry," said he, and curtly³⁷ dismissed the man. I had a notion that the great lawyer looked a trifle disappointed. "I fancy you are wondering why I sent for you, Mr. Smart."
 
"I am."
 
"Am I to assume that the newspapers were correct in stating that you mean to support my cause with—I may say, to the full extent of your powers?"
 
"It depends on circumstances, Mr. Pless."
 
"Circumstances?" He eyed me rather coldly, as if to say, "What right have you to suggest circumstances?"
 
"Perhaps I should have said that it depends somewhat on what my powers represent."
 
He crossed his slender legs comfortably and looked at me with a queer little tilt³⁸ of his left eyebrow³⁹, but with an unsmiling visage. He was too cocksure of himself to grant me even so much as an ingratiating smile. Was not I a glory-seeking American and he one of the glorious? It would be doing me a favour to let me help him.
 
"I trust you will understand, Mr. Smart, that I do not ask a favour of you, but rather put myself under a certain obligation for the time being. You have become a land-owner in this country, and as such, you should ally yourself with the representative people of our land. It is not an easy matter for a foreigner to plant himself in our midst, so to speak,—as a mushroom,—and expect to thrive on limited favours. I can be of assistance to you. My position, as you doubtless know, is rather a superior one in the capital. An unfortunate marriage has not lessened⁴⁰ the power that I possess as a birthright nor the esteem⁴¹ in which I am held throughout Europe. The disgraceful methods employed by my former wife in securing a divorce are well known to you, I take it, and I am gratified to observe that you frown upon them. I suppose you know the whole story?"
 
"I think I do," said I, quietly. I have never known such consummate⁴² self-assurance as the fellow displayed.
 
"Then you are aware that her father has defaulted under the terms of an ante-nuptial agreement. There is still due me, under the contract, a round million of your exceedingly useful dollars."
 
"With the interest to be added," said the lawyer, thrumming on the chair-arm with his fingers something after the fashion my mother always employs in computing⁴³ a simple sum in addition.
 
"Certainly," said Mr. Pless, sharply. "Mr. Smart understands that quite clearly, Mr. Schymansky. It isn't necessary to enlighten him."
 
The lawyer cleared his throat. I knew him at once for a shyster. Mr. Pless continued, addressing me.
 
"Of course he will have to pay this money before his daughter may even hope to gain from me the right to share the custody⁴⁴ of our little girl, who loves me devotedly⁴⁵. When the debt is fully⁴⁶ liquidated⁴⁷, I may consent to an arrangement by which she shall have the child part of the time at least."
 
"It seems to me she has the upper hand of you at present, however," I said, not without secret satisfaction. "She may be in America by this time."
 
"I think not," said he. "Every steamship⁴⁸ has-been watched for days, and we are quite positive she has not sailed. There is the possibility, however, that she may, have been taken by motor to some out-of-the-way place where she will await the chance to slip away by means of a specially⁴⁹ chartered ship. It is this very thing that we are seeking to prevent. I do not hesitate to admit that if she once gets the child to New York, we may expect serious difficulty in obtaining our rights. I humbly⁵⁰ confess that I have not the means to fight her in a land where her father's millions count for so much. I am a poor man. My estates are heavily involved through litigation started by my forbears. You understand my position?" He said it with a rather pathetic twist of his lips.
 
"I understand that you received a million in cash at the time of the wedding," said I. "What has become of all that?"
 
He shrugged⁵¹ his shoulders. "Can you expect me to indulge an extravagant⁵² wife, who seeks to become a social queen, and still save anything out of a paltry⁵³ million?"
 
"Oh, I see. This is a new phase of the matter that hasn't been revealed to me. It was she who spent the million?"
 
"After a fashion, yes," said he, without a spark of shame. "The chateau⁵⁴ was in rather a dilapidated condition, and she insisted on its restoration. It was also necessary to spend a great deal of money in the effort to secure for herself a certain position in society. My own position was not sufficient for her. She wanted to improve upon it, I might say. We entertained a great deal, and lavishly⁵⁵. She was accustomed to gratifying every taste and whim⁵⁶ that money could purchase. Naturally, it was not long before we were hard pressed for funds. I went to New York a year ago and put the matter clearly before her father. He met me with another proposition which rather disgusted me. I am a man who believes in fair dealing⁵⁷. If I have an obligation I meet it. Isn't that true, Mr. Schymansky?"
 
"It is," said the lawyer.
 
"Her father revoked⁵⁸ his original plan and suggested an alternative. He proposed to put the million in trust for his granddaughter, our Rosemary,—a name, sir, that I abominate⁵⁹ and which was given to her after my wife had sulked for weeks,—the interest to be paid to his daughter until the child reached the age of twenty-one. Of course, I could not accept such an arrangement. It—"
 
"Acting⁶⁰ on my advice,—for I was present at the interview,—the Count emphatically declined to entertain—"
 
"Never mind, Schymansky," broke in the Count petulantly⁶¹. "What is the use of going into all that?" He appeared to reflect for a moment. "Will you be good enough to leave the room for awhile, Mr. Schymansky? I think Mr. Smart and I can safely manage a friendly compact without your assistance. Eh, Mr. Smart?"
 
I couldn't feel sorry for Schymansky. He hadn't the backbone⁶² of an angleworm. If I were a lawyer and a client of mine were to speak to me as Pless spoke⁶³ to him, I firmly believe I should have had at least a fair sprinkling of his blood upon my hands.
 
"I beg of you, Count, to observe caution and—"
 
"If you please, sir!" cut in the Count, with the austerity that makes the continental⁶⁴ nobleman what he is.
 
"If you require my services, you will find me in the—"
 
"Not in the hall, I trust," said his client in a most insulting way.
 
Schymansky left the room without so much as a glance at me. He struck me as a man who knew his place better than any menial I've ever seen. I particularly noticed that not even his ears were red.
 
"Rather rough way to handle a lawyer, it strikes me," said I. "Isn't he any good?"
 
"He is as good as the best of them," said the Count, ............