At first one was inclined to believe Christian was boastful in his talk, but the following venturesome exploits prove that such was not the case.
Indented into a certain island in the Southern Baltic is a certain bay, which has always been a favourite haunt of wild geese. They visit it in thousands during the spring and autumn migrations, whilst a sprinkling of them seems to be ever present. A low promontory of sand and sand-dunes circles part of this bay, which is so washed by the sea that it is difficult to tell where the low-water mark really begins. From one point of the promontory a long spit of sand and mud projects far out into the sea. It is a peculiar formation and is much sought by waterfowl for resting and toilet purposes. During the opening months of 1915 geese made a habit of congregating here in unusual numbers.
Out at sea, in the fairway, was moored an ugly, evil-looking craft, with huge uprising bows. She was fitted with wireless, and although she had been anchored there since the outbreak of war, a head of steam was always kept up. Her official name and number was G. No. 53. She was supposed and alleged to be lying outside the Danish seaboard limit. That, however, to the casual observer looked to be open to grave doubt. She flew no flag and showed no outward sign of life on board, but she was known to be a German vessel, well crewed, victualled and provided. Those on board could command the sand-spit before mentioned with their binoculars, as well as with other human inventions.Apparently they did not neglect to make full use of what they had to hand.
On two occasions, within a period of ten days, a couple of ardent wild-fowlers might have been observed (history seems to point to the fact that they were observed) at early dawn, crawling along the said sand-spit, close to the water's edge, on its lee-side. Very slowly indeed they worked their way along until they were within range of a small gaggle of geese which habitually rested there. On each occasion a successful shot had been recorded. Fable tells us that the pitcher can go too often to the well. These intrepid sportsmen attempted to repeat their previous successes.
It was in the gloaming of eventide. About a dozen or fifteen black (brent) geese were preening their feathers at the end of the sand-spit, apparently well satisfied with their lot and the world in general. Just under the uneven line of washed-up seaweed and other refuse two dark forms crawled along. They seemed to be hours covering the space intervening between themselves and the birds—their evident quarry. Between decks on the gloomy vessel this minor tragedy in life and death was probably an object of equal interest. The crew could watch and observe without themselves being seen. They could gloat over the spilling of blood, and the death-dealing power of well-placed explosives, without the outside world ever knowing that they had any knowledge of such events happening. How keenly they must have anticipated.
As the sun sank deeper and deeper in the west, and the shades of night crept up from the east, the two wild-fowl hunters drew nearer and nearer to their objective. At least they began to think it time to prepare for a serenade. They were in the act of unlocking their guns when suddenly the ground immediately in front of them rose, like an active volcano, into the air and a mighty explosion shook the earth. What a shock! It raised their caps and, as Christian remarked, so singed the hair on his head and face that he would not be likely to want the attentions of a barber for a fortnight. His companion was glad enough to escape wholein body and limb, whilst he cursed the cowardly Huns under his breath for their death-dealing intentions. Christian seemed to emulate the immortal Mark Tapley. He was infernally happy and grateful to somebody to think they had helped him kill geese, which he would probably never have bagged without such assistance; and he joyfully rushed forward to pick up the dead and wounded before they could recover from the concussion consequent upon the shock of the explosion.
Natives who heard the report put it down to a floating mine which had been washed up on the beach and exploded when brought into contact with the shore. Had one of them visited the place where the upheaval occurred he could have seen at a glance that the depth of water was such that a mine could not have floated within half a mile.
How disappointed must have been the crew of G. No. 53.
Christian was a born sportsman. He was one of those who would have willingly exchanged a year's earnings for a red-letter day at sport. If the sport was such that danger was coupled with it, the greater the danger, the greater the excitement, and the greater his consequent enjoyment. For one reason only he was constantly lamenting that his country had not been brought into the struggle, so that he could have seized the opportunity to join actively in the fray. At heart, of course, he did not really desire that his country or his countrymen should have inflicted upon them all the horrors of war; but when a scrap was in progress he longed with his whole soul to be in the thick of it.
Now it so happened that certain people had declared that the Germans were violating the neutrality of Denmark, or at least jeopardising her position and welfare, by certain nocturnal submarine visitations in certain waters—not so very far from the Great Belt. German officialdom replied that these complaints and protests were mythical and without foundation. Christian thought otherwise.
It was a strange coincidence that at this particular time Christian should take a violent fancy for trawling. It was perhaps strange that his particular friend should argue thatthe best and heaviest fish always frequented the deepest channels which ran between the islands. Christian agreed, and supported the contention by quoting his experiences of fishing in far-off foreign seas.
He was not interrogated as to where, and when, and how, and for how long he had abandoned the forecastle for the trawl-net; nor did he give much opening for any such questions. He knew. Others might think they knew, but he knew he was right; that, according to him, was incontrovertible.
Christian's enthusiasm carried all and everything with it. A small vessel suitable for trawling purposes was secured and fitted out with the necessary gear and equipment. A chosen crew was selected. Fish were very scarce and consequently were very dear; the fortunes of all were to be made in a miraculously short space of time. The skipper was a heavy-bearded individual who knew his job, but nothing beyond it. He was easily persuaded, whilst his crew followed the lead blindly, thinking only of easily-earned shekels to come. In due course the party put to sea, with Christian & Co. acting in the capacity of spare hands.
For several nights results were precarious. The mighty draughts of promised fishes did not come along, and Christian had to use all his persuasive powers, backed up with innumerable excuses and explanations, to prove why it was his theories had not produced practical solid results.
The spirits of the once optimistic crew had sunk to zero, but they were over-persuaded to venture forth yet again. It was a dark night, but the moon was due to rise at 11.30. The sails of the little vessel had been trimmed, and the trawl dropped in a well-known channel, picked off from the chart by the ever enthusiastic Christian. For a few hours nothing out of the common occurred. Towards midnight the wind freshened slightly and the moon, peeping out from occasional obscuring clouds, cast pale, fitful lights over the cold, dark waters.
Presently the watch on deck became alarmed. An extraordinary phenomenon appeared to take place. Thefishing-boat gradually began to go backwards—actually into the eye of the wind, although her sails were properly set and full. The watchman rubbed his eyes and pinched himself to see whether he was properly awake, or dreaming. He looked at the trawl warp to see whether it was slackening, as he reasoned that if some current sufficiently strong to counteract the force of the wind was flowing there, however unusual or from whatsoever unknown but possible cause it might have originated, then surely the trawl warp would show it.
No. The trawl warp was tight. It was strained to its utmost. He looked at the far-off land and took bearings. He was not mistaken.The boat was going backwards.Her speed was easily perceptible.
He rushed to the hatchway and yelled at the top of his voice to the sleeping crew to come on deck; to which alarming summons it responded quickly enough.
Wildly gesticulating and with much waving of arms the thoroughly frightened and superstitious fisherman explained matters as best he could. Others sprang to various positions in the boat to investigate for themselves. The story was indeed too true, and consternation at the unknown plainly showed itself on the countenances of all—except perhaps the imperturbable Christian and the other spare hand. Whilst the crew was debating with its skipper what was best to be done under the circumstances, another phase of the phenomenon developed. A huge, unwieldy shape gradually rose from the sea abaft the taffrail. It had a smooth, polished skin, which shone and glistened in the moonlight like the back of a whale. But on looking farther along to gauge as accurately as could be the whole length of this mysterious leviathan of the deep, a break in the smoothness of its form was apparent, together with an excrescence which the skipper of the trawler was not long in recognising as the conning tower of a submarine.
Ye gods above! How frightened they all were. How the skipper swore, and raved, and shrieked for a hatchet to cut away. How he sawed at the trawl rope with his beltknife before it arrived, and how he hacked the warp in two when he did get it. What a commotion there was to pack on sail in order to get clear before the Germans could get out of their steel shell and make things unpleasant for them. How everyone flew about and gave orders to everyone else. Yes! All seemed to lose their heads entirely, except the two spare hands whose whole attention seemed attracted aft. They gazed, with looks which might have been mistaken for gleams of triumph, at that huge, ugly monster, now bumping the stern of the little fishing-boat. They noted every detail open to visional observation, while their unusual coolness was not noticed in the general alarm of the crew, who thought only of their individual escape and safety.
A close, impartial observer might almost have been led to the belief that the expression on the countenance of Christian betrayed the realisation of an all-too-long delayed event which had at last crystallised and fully justified his anticipations.
In due course it was reported that the propellers of a believed-to-be German submarine, which, it could be said, had got out of her course in the dark, had fouled the fishing-nets belonging to some unknown boat. The local press was furious. Officialdom was stirred from its lethargy, much red tape and sealing-wax were expended, many politely worded notes passed between two Governments, and the event was soon forgotten by the Powers-that-be. But the fishermen concerned remembered all too vividly every detail and the horrible scare they had had, whilst they loudly lamented their lost gear. However, a Danish gunboat appeared a little more frequently round that particular part of the coast; mines, and yet more mines, were laid out; whilst the waters in question, which had so many times rippled round the boat of mystery, knew the activities of the conscienceless Hun no more. Meanwhile the Golden Argosy of unlimited profits from deep-channel trawling by night, as exploited by Messrs. Christian & Co., proved a ghastly financial failure.
Frontier Prowling—Startling Rumours—Terrible Weather—Evading Sentries—Mapping the Works—Refuge with Smuggler—Confidences on Super-Submarines and Zeppelins—A Country Inn—Preparing Despatches—Forcible Intrusion—Arrested for a German Spy—Search and Interrogation—Summary Trial—Tricking the Searchers—Committed for Trial—Escape.
Frontier Prowling—Startling Rumours—Terrible Weather—Evading Sentries—Mapping the Works—Refuge with Smuggler—Confidences on Super-Submarines and Zeppelins—A Country Inn—Preparing Despatches—Forcible Intrusion—Arrested for a German Spy—Search and Interrogation—Summary Trial—Tricking the Searchers—Committed for Trial—Escape.
Whilst prowling along the northern frontier of Germany in the early spring of 1915, with a companion whom I would have trusted with my life, we quite unwittingly got caught in a manner least expected.
I had been over the frontier more than once, but never far into the interior. I had neither occasion nor object in so doing. I was at the time on the lookout for some Danish workmen who I knew had been employed on some of the important and secret war material of Germany. If I could meet them on German soil, so much the better; they would then be much more likely to open out and talk more freely than they would do if met elsewhere. I had had experience of this and was at the time most anxious to get corroborative evidence of some rather startling rumours which I had recently heard regarding the (later on called) Paris Big Gun.
Whilst so prowling, as before mentioned, we heard speak of a certain harbour. The mysterious harbour, it was called, which no one might visit, which was jealously guarded, and which the Germans had every intention of occupying at an early date. Wild, speculative talk, perhaps, but it was enough to determine me to go and see for myself and so learn the truth and judge the possibilities from the facts gathered.
Not so many miles from the Island of Femern, where theGerman warshipGazellewas torpedoed by an English submarine in the spring of 1915, although the fact was never communicated to the English Press, it was said to be situated. A small, exceedingly convenient harbour, with at least eighteen feet depth of water at all tides, and it was said to be capable of great developments.
Its existence was not chronicled in ordinary guide-books nor on the maps in general circulation. Visitors were not welcomed and the local inhabitants were fearful lest their neighbourhood should be seized and overrun by undesirable foreigners.
During the period with which we are concerned frost at night was intense. All open marshland was frozen as solidly as if encased in iron, whilst the ice-bound ditches, canals, and drains were levelled to the headland with drifted snow. Storms, of varying magnitude, were of daily occurrence. Cruel winds swept the bleak area visited, cutting through the thickest of garments till the marrow in one's very bones seemed congealed. No one at the time, acting from his own free will, would have appreciated either a business or a pleasure trip to the harbour in question. Yet early one eventful morning, when the weather was at its worst and everyone else had sought shelter, we braved the elements and attempted to lay a course through the maze of marshland roads, dams and banks, which would not have been an easy task to many of the natives. Our struggle to win through these and other unseen difficulties seemed hopeless. But our minds were made up. We were both determined, obstinate, persistent. Many times we were blown flat by the violence of the storm. Many times we fell, sunk to our necks, in a snowdrift. Many times we lost our way and had to retrace our steps or correct our course. But all the while we proceeded forward, with lips compressed and faces set in grim determination, to accomplish the task we had in hand; to view, to inspect, and to survey roughly the harbour and its works.
Not a soul was observable upon all that vast flat area stretching away uninterruptedly to the horizon as far as the eye could command on either hand. The distant, dull,booming, angry roar of the sea upon the breakwaters and the shrieking wind made conversation impossible. No cover was available until the great embankment was attained. It guarded some tens of thousands of acres of reclaimed land. What a relief it was to us poor wayfarers to reach this comparative haven of peace, an oasis in the desert of howling storm! We had traversed many, many weary miles of most awful walking, under most exhausting circumstances, and a long rest was indeed welcome. Having reached the embankment unobserved, the remainder of the venture was, comparatively speaking, an easy matter.
With such a gale in progress no vessel was likely to brave the mines laid out under the Admiralty administration of several nations and to attempt a passage from the sea. On the land side, the temporary railway and all roads concentrated upon a point where a cluster of new houses had sprung up, which at the moment in question were full of individuals—refugees from the storm and others. The windows of these houses commanded every road within miles. Was it likely, the sentries undoubtedly argued within themselves, or to be suspected for a moment, that anyone in sane senses would attempt to avoid these solid paths and risk an approach to the harbour through the swamps (although they were frozen) and by way of the embankments thus reached, to the east and west? If there were such rash and foolish people about then they ran a good chance of being lost and frozen to death.
So it was that even the sentries were under cover, making life as pleasant as could be, drinking coffee heavily strengthened with brandy, and playing cards for small stakes.
Having rested and eaten and drunk from a thermos flask, we proceeded along the sea side of the embankment with as much caution as though travelling in an enemy's country. Somewhat to our surprise we encountered not a living being, not even a stray dog to exercise his lungs at strangers. On arrival at the harbour, which was concealed from view of the houses by the height of the embankment before mentioned, we quickly and dexterously got to work, free from observationor interruption. My companion kept watch on the main entrances whilst I overran the works, mapped and thoroughly investigated them, sounded and checked water depths, accommodation calculated, and the quay head-room, and roughly surveyed and noted to the minutest detail all the surroundings, in a very short space of time.
As soon as this work was accomplished we left the danger zone. It was unwise to linger a moment longer than was necessary in such a situation. Retracing our steps until we were quite convinced there was no chance of trouble from possible prying followers, we paused on the outskirts of a small wood. It was the first rest since our objective had been left, it was the first opportunity we had had to exchange a sentence.
"Why not look in and see old Pedersen, the smuggler? He may know something."
"Good; let us go then." This was all I had to say.
In a lonely hut, in still more lonely and uninviting surroundings, resided the interesting individual sought. He was a friend of long standing with my companion, whom he received with every outward sign of cordiality and pleasure. But how deceptive can be the ways of men time will show. Coffee was at once put on the hob to boil, and a liberal supply of potato-brandy and eatables forthcoming. The glow of the fire and warm food after long exposure caused my blood to tingle in my veins, down to toe- and finger-tips. The sensation was glorious, and a quiet smoke crowned the extreme bliss of the moment.
In due course ordinary generalities of conversation broadened further afield. The grey-haired, bright-eyed old deluder of Revenue officers dilated upon the war pickings and opportunities which seemed to be bringing him a rich harvest. It appeared he had many relations living and working in Germany. They helped him not a little. Custom officials on that side also knew him well. They winked at most things now which before the war would have been suppressed with an iron hand. His goings and comings were of more frequent occurrence. His business proceeded almostopenly, and he was accumulating money as he had never done in his life before.
No, he did not fear the mines. It was true there were plenty of them. Danish, German, Russian, and English. He knew exactly where each group was laid; thus he avoided them.
Yes, he believed the English had laid out some mines. He could not say for certain, but he had seen English submarines in the Femern Belt. He had spoken them and he knew English when he heard it. Of course they must have laid out some mines.
Everyone knew of the existence and whereabouts of the Danish and of the German mines. Fishermen who were daily at sea, fishing or cruising around after one thing and another, had seen and heard quite enough about them; but the Russian mines were another proposition. He believed most of the Russian mines were floating ones, either from design or accident. Anyway, there were plenty of them about. The more the merrier so far as he was concerned. They kept a lot of people away and they did not frighten him. It was all good for business.
For some time the old man ran on with the utmost freedom of speech, which tended to disarm any suspicions we might have entertained against him. We, however, gave no hint of our doings. We preferred to pose as good listeners.
When he turned his conversation to the building of new submarines and airships, and events and happenings in the interior of Germany, I drew into deeper reticence and avoided asking questions which might have raised possible suspicions of the deep absorbing interest such knowledge carried. The veteran smuggler apparently had two brothers working on war machines in German territory, and they had told him——
Here he broke off in the middle of a sentence to ask his long-lost friend who I was, where I came from, and all about me.
It appeared that overcome by the strong wind, coupled with perhaps the stronger alcoholic libations, I had fallen asleep.
"Oh, you need not trouble about him. He's a Norwegian ship's captain, whose ship is stranded up at Marstal. He is visiting a few friends hereabouts and doing a little duck-shooting with me. He's a real good sort and quite all right." "Of course," replied the smuggler, "I knew if he was with you he must be all right. But in these times you never know, so you'll have to excuse my asking"; and he continued to describe all he had heard and knew concerning the building of the new improved German submarines, which were claimed to be able to run at great speed on the surface and to traverse a distance of some thousands of miles independent of base reliance for resupplies.
When the subject had been exhausted he switched off to the 1915 Zeppelins, upon which another brother had been for some time employed. These engines of destruction, he stated, would be a wonderful improvement on all former known airships of their kind. They would be very much larger; have their cars covered in; there would be more of them; their speed would be materially increased and their capacity for weight-carrying considerably augmented. There were many other minor yet important details which the old man, in his enthusiasm, enlarged upon in garrulous volubility.
At last there seemed nothing more to tell and a renewal of the journey was suggested, but so soundly did the pseudo Norwegian captain sleep that it took the combined efforts of both of them, with much prodding and shaking, before he could be aroused from his lethargy. When apparently I was only half awake we left the hut, cursing the belligerents generally for upsetting everybody's livelihood, instead of thanking our late host for the friendly shelter and hospitality; nor did I offer any apology for having slept throughout his most interesting discourse upon these unknown things.
The old smuggler audibly expressed an unsought opinion that the liquor had got the better of my senses. I was gratified by that.
Later in the afternoon we found ourselves in the neighbourhood of a small township. We made our way to aninn in the main street, where we ordered something substantial to eat.
To specially prepare a meal anywhere on the Continent takes time. At a remote country inn where nothing is kept in readiness it takes much more time than elsewhere. An hour is the minimum. I sought my bedroom with an excuse for forty winks, giving orders to be awakened as soon as the soup was on the table.
Every hostelry bedroom in the north of Europe is provided with a table, pens, ink and writing materials. A few minutes after the door had been locked I might have been seen seated at table preparing a despatch and puzzling deeply over certain sprawled hieroglyphics which had apparently been made on rough paper,possibly inside my pocket with a pencil stump when perhaps reclining in an awkward position and unable or unwilling to see to guide the fingers which gripped the active stump of lead. Be that as it may, the writing was awfully bad and very difficult indeed to make out. I studied it with the greatest of care all ways, upside down, and at every angle; whilst the smiles on my face may have portrayed evident satisfaction at the result.
Suddenly a heavy tread caused the solid stairs to creak, and loud knocking, equivalent to peremptory demands, upon the door of my room caused me to jump in my chair as though a guilty conscience plagued my peace of mind. Quick as lightning I removed and concealed certain precious belongings, doubled up the sheet of paper upon which I was working, and started to scribble silly messages upon some picture postcards I had purchased at the village store to people of no importance who lived at no great distance away.
Again the knocking was repeated, this time louder and more emphatic than before. "All right, my friend, no hurry. Take all things quietly and all things will be well." But the impatient visitor would not and did not wait. He placed so much force behind the lock that it yielded, and he nearly fell on to his nose as the door gave way.
Recovering himself he came quickly forward, and I rose to meet him half way.
"You know who we are?" he said to me.
"My dear sir, I exceedingly regret to say that I have not that pleasure," I replied.
"We are police officers." As he spoke, another burly individual appeared in the opening of the doorway, who, without sign of interest in the preliminary conversation, proceeded to prop up the broken door to some semblance of its former state. "You have just landed from Femern and we arrest you as a German spy."
At these words my eyes glittered, I clenched my hands in a way which did not augur well for the visitors.
"My good sir," I muttered through compressed lips, "you may do what you please, and you may assign me to any nationality in the wide, wide world, except that one. I am not in any way related to the barbarians, nor will I permit you to take me for one. If you repeat such an insulting accusation again I shall throw you out."
"You forget, sir, you are under arrest," he snapped.
"I do not forget that, if I am anything at all, I am an Englishman, and that I am in a private apartment. If the door is guarded, the window is not; you will observe that it is an unpleasant height from the ground to fall."
"Anyway, you pass yourself off as a Norwegian, now you say you are English, but we know you are German. Search his belongings, sergeant, and search thoroughly." Saying which the senior officer coolly proceeded to take up and to read the postcards on the table.
It was not a pleasant position to be in, and well I knew it. The new law was very elastic. It made it an offence to use the telegraph, the telephone or the postal facilities, or to enlist directly or indirectly any assistance from any native for the purpose of conveying any information which could be considered likely to be of use to any belligerent power; whilst the only literature which had recently found favour in the eyes of the reading public seemed to relate to spies and espionage, whether in fact or in fiction. Hence every local junior or senior police or other officer seemed to imagine himself a born Sherlock Holmes. In vain I indignantlyprotested against the intrusion. It merely seemed to whet their appetite for investigation. Every belonging I had with me was turned inside out, even to the lining of my raiment. Hats and boots were separately and collectively opened up, whilst the marks on my linen, off and on, were compared and commented upon.
"Perhaps a cigar would cool you down a bit?" I remarked somewhat sarcastically, but the suggestion was refused with an indignant snort.
"Well, I presume there is no objection to my smoking, even ifyoudon't care about it," I added, as I bit the end off a big black cigar and hunted round for matches. Blindly ignoring a box on the table, I eventually extracted some from the pocket of my greatcoat, which was hanging on a peg. In doing so I pulled out a glove which fell to the floor.
Of course my every action was watched. But I did not appear to notice this until I had twice paced the floor smoking. Then, seeing the glove lying there, I picked it up and sarcastically offered it for examination, after which I placed it in my side pocket. Quite a natural thing to do.
Meanwhile, it should have been recorded that I had purposely left the folded piece of paper containing the partly-written message lying on the table and in sight during the whole interview. When the officer had advanced to read the postcards I had taken care to be there first. I had carelessly picked up the aforesaid paper and played with it; twisting it round my fingers as though it were a piece of string. When the officer was out of reach of the table I threw it down again. If he came closer I annexed it and played with it as before.
After the glove incident, the officer, evidently in command, made a dash to secure it. I reached and picked it up just a second before him and proceeded to twist it with even greater vehemence than before round my fingers, as though my nerves were somewhat strained.
The officer held out his hand for it. Instead of giving it to him direct I first passed the paper from one hand to the other. A very simple thing indeed in itself to the uninitiated, butthat little act covered an operation which if bungled might have provided me with solitary confinement for a period of many years. As the officer unrolled the twisted paper I had handed over it proved to be utterly devoid of interest or utility; it was, in fact, a piece of blank paper, in size about the thickness of a man's thumb. By way of explanation to the reader I must add that in years gone by I had been an adept in the art of legerdemain, thus it was easy for me to deceive him and also to dexterously convey the original document into the thumb of the glove which lay conveniently for such purpose in my right-hand coat pocket.
After an hour and a half of search and interrogation the two officers engaged in whispered conversation and the venue was changed.
In due course I was arraigned before the head magistrate of the district, a stern but just man who appeared to carry much weight and influence in local affairs. He was the equivalent to our lord lieutenant of a county in England, and probably to a State governor in the U.S.A.
His first step embraced a bodily search to the skin in which I, the prisoner, helped by turning out my pockets and opening up my clothes, and giving all seemingly possible assistance.
After three and a half hours' interrogation I was dismissed, but informed I must not leave the inn without a permit. Meanwhile my travelling companion was also thoroughly overhauled and examined apart from me andin camera.
Whilst this second act of the drama was in progress I was chuckling in my room. With most satisfactory smiles I extracted my various treasures. From the roll of my collar I drew forth a document of value. It looked uncommonly like a rough sketch plan, as indeed it was—quite a good map of the mysterious harbour which had so suddenly sprung into existence. My handkerchief was not without a crumpled paper within its folds; whilst my glove was sought and relieved of its twisted draft despatch. But what amused me most of all was a book entitledKing Alcohol, a discourse on the curse of drink. I had called special attention to this book,a Danish edition of Jack London, and it had been indignantly cast upon the table both by the magistrate and the officers.[9]It had lain there with my glove, pocket-handkerchief, pipe and tobacco-pouch as uninteresting and neglected throughout the proceedings. This book was bound in a paper cover, but even an ordinary paper cover can hide more than some people would give credence to. In this it concealed blocked-out silhouettes on very thin paper of every fighting vessel in the German Navy. I had been using them—oh, so recently!
Laughing softly to myself, I reflected on the deception; the very openness of which was its greatest safety. The repacking of my disturbed belongings was necessary, and then I wondered how my companion was faring at the hands of the authorities, whose exasperation and disappointment at not finding any of the evidence they had expected with such seeming certainty upon me was badly concealed.
One reflection led to another. How, when, and where had the local police or the military been led to suspect us, to hit our trail? Who had given information and what did they really know? The more I turned the matter over in my mind the more puzzled I became. Could the old smuggler have communicated possible suspicions? Could we have been seen at work on the harbour? Was my companion everything I believed him to be? It was one of those riddles which Secret Service agents are constantly being called upon to face, but if they seriously trouble themselves trying to solve them they are apt to fall early victims of brain fever.
The examinations had been severe as to past movements, intentions, motives, and present occupation or pastime. The mention of wild-fowling had been received with ridicule until an argument convinced the magistrate that I knew far more about that sport than he did; whilst addressesof certain local fowlers, which had been given him with seeming reluctance, were at once tested by telephone with results not unfavourable to his temporary prisoners.
Our interrogators either knew, or had assumed a knowledge, that the harbour had been visited; whilst they had searched diligently and persistently for any trace of a plan or particulars relating to it.
When the magistrate returned from his second search he announced his final decision to send us both as prisoners under an escort to Copenhagen to be tried by the higher tribunal which handled these affairs. This sentence would have been acted upon forthwith had I not questioned the authority and the wisdom of carrying any further so delicate a matter as interference with our personal liberty when there was no evidence whatever for him to go upon. My criticisms were pleasantly and playfully worded, but they were also concise and crushing in their logic; besides which they carried throughout a quiet threatening undertone that portended possible international trouble, with severe punishment upon unauthorised officials who tampered unlawfully with the freedom of a loyal subject of His Gracious Majesty, King George the Fifth of England.
Thus it came about that the informal court adjourned until the morrow, and our long-deferred meal was the more appreciated.
Discussing an after-dinner smoke, my companion unanimously agreed with me that wild-fowling in that particular neighbourhood hardly augured well, nor did it hold out promise or comfortable prospects; that although the suspicions which had been aroused had been checkmated for the moment, there seemed every probability that further trouble was likely to develop. Perhaps it would be better far to solve the difficulty and ease the minds of all parties concerned if a rapid, mysterious departure, which left no traceable trail behind, was taken.
* * * * * *
Later in the day, as the twilight darkened into night, two shadows might have been seen for a moment as theyangled the corner of the inn in that southernmost Danish township and disappeared in the surrounding gloom; travellers once more amidst the flotsam and jetsam of life's highway; travelling they knew not whither, with but one mind and one paradoxical thought—to seek for, and at the same time to avoid, the unknown.
FOOTNOTE:[9]The Danes being a race of notoriously hard drinkers resent any literature savouring of Prohibition.
[9]The Danes being a race of notoriously hard drinkers resent any literature savouring of Prohibition.
[9]The Danes being a race of notoriously hard drinkers resent any literature savouring of Prohibition.
Kaleidoscopic Changes in Secret Service Agent's Life—Called to Norwegian Capital for Orders—Enforced Idleness—A War Gambler—Huge Credits—Twisting the Tail of the British Lion—Averting Possible War—Frenzied Finance—A Colossal Bribe—Topheavy Argument—Newspaper Influence—A Good Bargain for England—Millionaire in Three Days.
Kaleidoscopic Changes in Secret Service Agent's Life—Called to Norwegian Capital for Orders—Enforced Idleness—A War Gambler—Huge Credits—Twisting the Tail of the British Lion—Averting Possible War—Frenzied Finance—A Colossal Bribe—Topheavy Argument—Newspaper Influence—A Good Bargain for England—Millionaire in Three Days.
The life of a Foreign Secret Service agent in wartime is one of kaleidoscopic changes. He never knows where he is likely to be from one day to another, nor the class of company it may be his lot in life to associate with.
One day it may elevate him to be a guest of Royalty, the next may find him in company with the very scum of the earth.Pro Bono Patriæis his motto. His life and everything he possesses on earth is thrown for the time being into the melting-pot. His sole aim, object, and ambition is to make good. To shoulder successfully and carry through his little bit whereby something may be accomplished, something done, for the furtherance of his country's cause.
All through that hard-fought fight the British played the game. They conducted themselves as gentlemen and they never forgot that they were sportsmen as well. We in the Secret Service prided ourselves that we never knowingly abused the hospitality of the neutral nations whose land we were compellednolens volensto operate in, we never interfered in any way with their politics or their national affairs. Our work lay with the Hun, the enemy; we strictly confined our attentions to him, and to him alone.
Yet we were constantly being tempted to be drawn into side issues which it was at times really difficult to avoid.
In the early spring of 1915, whilst I was cruising in theBaltic, amidst ice-floes and storms frequent enough to chill the ardour of any patriot, I received an innocent and simple-worded note, the interpretation of which meant I must hasten to Christiania for orders.
On my arrival there I met my old friend N. P., who had been similarly recalled from Sweden, with others who have not figured in these pages. Days passed in listless idleness. No orders arrived. There seemed to be nothing doing. But it was heart-breaking to see the constant stream of the necessities of life—cotton, copper, foodstuffs and metals—going to Germany, which the feeble remonstrances of our Ministers, both at home and abroad, seemed utterly powerless to stop or to diminish.
For some weeks all members of the Foreign Secret Service operating round the Baltic were kept at the Norwegian capital in daily anticipation of something important turning up. The expected, however, never happened, yet we were still kept there, in spite of repeated remonstrances and urgent appeals to be released in order that we might attend to our respective interests in other spheres.
One evening I had been dining with a friend at the Grand Hotel. Whilst I was in the vestibule about 2 a.m., putting on my snow-boots preparatory to the short walk home, a middle-aged man, with hands clenched, face as pale and clammy as a corpse, and teeth set hard, rushed up to me in such an alarming manner that I fondled the butt of a revolver lying in the outside pocket of my overcoat by way of precaution against possible contingencies.
"My God, sir, you are the one man I've been praying to find! I believe I should have committed suicide to-night or by to-morrow morning had it not have been for this chance meeting. I must see you, now, this moment. You must save me. I have millions, yet I am a ruined man. I dare not face it a second time. You must either come to my room, or I must visit yours. I have not slept for nights. It will take hours to explain matters. You must save me. Save me! Yes, only promise me you will save me!"
Thinking I had a madman to deal with, I humoured him.I promised any reasonable assistance that lay in my power, and fixed an appointment for the afternoon of the following day.
The twelve hours intervening made little improvement upon the nerves or excitement of the stranger. It was some time after my arrival before he could articulate a connected story; whilst it took considerable interlocution and some cross-examination before I could draw forth the main facts of his case.
Shortly, it was as follows:
He was a merchant from the West Coast. He had gambled in fish oil some years previously and lost his all. Financial difficulties had since embarrassed him. When the country was thrown into panic by the declaration of war he had seen his opportunity and plunged once again into an enormous speculation. By promising large sums of money for direct financial assistance, and by offering brokerage remuneration far in excess of what was either necessary or reasonable, he had become enabled to buy on credit practically every barrel of fish oil held in the country. It was a special kind of oil which could not be replaced until next season's harvest was gathered in. He was therefore in a position to control the market and to regulate prices, provided he could only finance the deal uninterruptedly and his movements were not hampered by new laws—particularly prohibition of export.
Terribly anxious on both these points, he had approached the British Minister and pressed upon him the acceptance of his whole purchase at a price more than double its initial cost. In addition he had hinted rather too strongly that Germany was a certain buyer should the English Government not care to accept his preferential offer.
It amounted in fact to a threat: "If you don't buy this oil at once, the whole lot goes off to your enemies."
The Minister had promised his answer in five days. But when the merchant's financier heard what he had done, that gentleman was so irate he had threatened to cancel his credit, because, as he argued, he had tried to threatenEngland; which meant that the oil in question would promptly be made contraband, whilst the English Government would call upon the Norwegian Government to cause its export to be prohibited. There was admittedly no sale for such large quantities as he had bought in the home markets, hence he became quite convinced that he was a ruined man, although, according to market prices, he was a millionaire.
When recounting his folly in thus putting his head into the lion's mouth, to which he metaphorically likened his visit to the Ministry, the poor unnerved merchant worked himself up into a tremendous pitch of excitement. He perspired so freely that all the starch was exuded from his linen. He drank bottle after bottle of lager beer in a vain endeavour to keep his lips moist, whilst his eyes at times assumed an unnatural appearance, rolling round in their sockets in a manner alarming to behold.
I knew simply nothing of the subject put so vehemently before me, but the idea of any goods of any value being permitted to go into Germany was so distasteful to me that I listened with the greatest patience and until my visitor could say no more. Then I inquired where and how I could be expected to be of assistance.
"Why, you're a newspaper man. You represent the best and most influential periodical in London, the greatest city of the world. I know what tremendous power and influence the English papers hold. Your Minister would certainly listen to what you said, if you would only interview him on my behalf; if you would only intercede against any prohibition being put on my oil."
"Why should I interfere?" I said. "As an Englishman, I certainly object to your selling any goods to Germany. If I thought you intended sending a single barrel there I should do all I could to get the prohibition put on it, not to help you to keep it off."
"But that would bring Norway into the war."
"I don't agree," I snapped.
"Yes, it would. A prohibition on oil or fish would mean the throwing out of employment of many thousands uponthousands of Norwegian fishermen and workmen. They would revolt and march on the Storthings-Bygning" (House of Parliament) "and compel its members to take the prohibition off in spite of the British Government. Your Minister might say that England had been slighted, which would lead to war. One of our own Ministers himself told me this only yesterday, so I know I'm right in what I'm talking about."
In vain I poo-poohed the idea; the perspiring merchant was insistent.
Having delivered himself of these troubles, he walked up and down the confines of the room in a frenzy of nervous excitement. Banging his fists one into the other, alternately running his fingers through his hair, which was absolutely wringing wet from perspiration, he, literally speaking, groaned out his mental agony.
I watched him in silence. Suddenly he steadied himself somewhat, then stopped short, and, looking me straight in the face, he exclaimed: "I feel, I know, I am positively certain sure you can save this situation if you will. I am paying the man who is putting up my money 40,000 kroner as a private honorarium over and above the usual interest of five per cent. It's worth it. But neither he nor I shall see a cent in return if it's to be prohibition. Now, I'll make a square deal with you. I'll give you 100,000 kroner" (about £5,500) "if you'll interview your Minister for me and you can successfully guarantee me no prohibition for six or even three months. If you can only stop it for three months, then I shall be safe, and I shall have more than enough to pay my late creditors and everybody else everything I owe, and to spare." At this point he positively gasped for breath and more beer, whilst he re-mopped his streaming neck and face.
During this scene my thoughts had not been idle. They had conceived, turned over, and evolved a scheme which I believed would work out to the advantage of all concerned, excepting only the Germans.
I would promise him the assistance he desired; tointercede and do my best to pacify the British Minister's wrath, which I was given to understand was burning at white heat against the unfortunate merchant for his presumption and impudence in daring to suggest a twist of the lion's tail for so large an amount as the £100,000 profit he had suggested. It was well known that the Legation had given out, and wished it to be understood, that England would not look favourably upon any business relationships whatsoever, directly or indirectly, with Germany. Furthermore, that such a flouting of England's goodwill would not be to the future advantage of any such transgressors. Some merchants made a joke of this, others expressed their feelings in withering scorn, a few took notice. The idea that their trade should be allowed to continue with England whilst its continuance with Germany was to be looked upon as an unpardonable offence seemed a top-heavy argument. They did not view the proposition through similarly tinted glasses. And as soon as the Minister began to voice his objections, so soon did trouble begin.
The position of the merchant from the West Coast, however, was hardly on all fours with other traders in the country. He was particularly anxious to keep in the good graces of the British Minister. At the same time, the earning of money seemed dearer to him than most other worldly considerations.
I knew he held an appointment which he was desirous to retain—an appointment which the British Minister could influence considerably. He, the British Minister, could easily keep him in it or he could scorch him out of it, whichever he desired. I also knew that the British Minister, generally speaking, was not too popular; whilst it was said that he was a man who would never understand the Norwegian race any more than it would ever understand him. I could read what had passed in the minds of both of these individuals of such opposite temperaments at that memorable interview. I could imagine the grim, determined, waiting watchfulness with which the one man weighed up the weaknesses, the failings, and the awful nerve-racking sensations of realisedblunders, abandoned hopes and fears, and despair probably revealed on the face of the other.
It was all as plain to me as though the drama had been re-enacted in my presence. I felt a contempt I did not express at the sordid details of such vast credits being bought and risks run with other people's money, at bribery prices over and above the usual business rates; at the exorbitant brokerages which were being exacted from this rash and hazardous speculator; and more particularly at the heavy sum which was pressed upon me for a service that the eager donor had seemingly never seriously weighed or considered with an evenly-balanced mind. Thus I delivered myself:
"My good sir, you seem to have put your foot into it very badly indeed. It looks as though you, and all those involved with you, will crash through the very thin ice you are skating upon. It looks to me an odds-on chance that you will all be drowned in the financial vortex beneath. I don't for the life of me see how a poor insignificant journalist like myself can be of any real service to you. So you need not worry about your 100,000 kroner or any other sum. What fragment of weight do you suppose that so great a personage as our Minister would attach to either my words or to my presence—to me, a stranger and an ordinary civilian?"
In a tense, hoarse voice he replied: "You forget you are English, an English journalist, representing the most powerful newspaper in London. Everyone is afraid of newspapers. They can uproot a throne. I know. I have lived in London. I have seen what a newspaper can do. You are cool. Your nerves are strong. You are a man of the world. You can state my case as it would be impossible for me to state it myself. Let the English Government buy my oil at its own price. I don't want an exorbitant profit. I will leave the negotiation to your absolute discretion. Prohibition would ruin me. You can save me if you will only try. I will willingly pay you any sum you like to name. If you stave off the threatened prohibition you will earn it ten times over. You may even save our country from war. I have not sleptfor nights. I cannot eat properly. Unless this strain on me is relieved I feel my brain will give way and I shall go mad, or I shall kill myself."
He sat down heavily upon a chair, and, burying his head in his hands, wept aloud.
Allowing a reasonable time for the unhappy merchant to settle down to a more even frame of mind, I placed my hand upon his shoulder, not unkindly, and said in a soft voice: "Well, I'm afraid I shall not carry much weight, and I don't want your money, but I will go and see him. One thing is quite certain. You can rest assured that England would never knowingly permit an injustice to be done; but if you're trading with the Germans, then of course you'll have to paddle your own canoe."
Further inquiries from the now subservient speculator elicited the existence of a contract made with German merchants by which a by-product of the oil passing through his hands in the ordinary course of business, amounting to about five per cent. of the whole, had to be delivered to them periodically for some few months to follow.
In due course I carried out the promise I had made, and as a result I conveyed certain proposals to the merchant, whereby that gentleman gave a written undertaking that not a barrel of his oil should be sold to Germany, directly or indirectly, excepting the by-product before referred to, which was considered a bagatelle, he receiving assurances that so long as his undertaking was faithfully carried out no steps would be taken without fair and reasonable notice to press for a prohibition of the particular oil in question.
To say that the gentleman most interested in this matter was effusive in his expressions of overwhelming gratitude would be a gross exaggeration of mild description. If permitted he would have fallen on my neck and almost drowned me in a flood of tears of relief and joy. He produced a pocket-book bulging with paper money and attempted to force a handful of notes for large amounts upon me, which I firmly and emphatically refused to accept. But I did agree to lunch with him, and the late dejected one atewhat he described as his first decent meal for a prolonged period.
During the following week we occasionally met. The merchant was now all smiles and enjoying life consequent upon a successful venture and an undisturbed peace of mind. Prices continued to rise in his favour, and ten days later he declared himself a millionaire in Norwegian kroner. He vainly continued to press me every time we were alone to accept something substantial for the service rendered, whilst he was extravagant in his sentiments of eternal gratitude. He also proposed that I should abandon my journalistic career and accept a position as one of the foreign representatives of his firm, which offer I likewise politely declined. Then he hinted at the bestowal of a high Norwegian decoration, which made me smile still more.
Whether the unlimited ambitions of this wild speculator followed usual precedent and tumbled from the height of success to the abysmal depth of failure by reason of too oft-repeated temptations of Providence; whether, and if so, how the assurances given and the guarantee obtained were carried out, the ultimate turn of events, and how all these things developed, progressed and fructified, remain, as Rudyard Kipling says, another story.
Posing as a Journalist—Credentials—Subtle Suggestions—Suspicions—A Fallen Star—Sold to the Police—Instinctive Warnings—Temptations—Intercepted Adulations—A Serious Blow—Tests—Danger Signals—Flight—Herr Schmidt—Double Tracking—Arrest Warrant Postponed.
Posing as a Journalist—Credentials—Subtle Suggestions—Suspicions—A Fallen Star—Sold to the Police—Instinctive Warnings—Temptations—Intercepted Adulations—A Serious Blow—Tests—Danger Signals—Flight—Herr Schmidt—Double Tracking—Arrest Warrant Postponed.
Most people who interest themselves in the detailed working of Secret Service show greatest curiosity regarding the actual characters assumed by its members when in foreign countries.
A Secret Service agent should never assume a character he is not absolutely familiar with, both inside and out. It is possible to act up to a certain pitch, which will carry a certain distance, but artificiality is never safe. The stunt that is most in favour with the Intelligence Departments of all nations is journalism; thus it has been worked threadbare. Every foreign newspaper man on the Continent in recent years has been suspected, marked, and watched from the start, simply because he is what he is and for no other reason. I was never warned of this, but it did not take me long to find it out. I fell into therôleon my second trip out and adopted it naturally. I had been a free-lance journalist for upwards of twenty years, and I concluded that I could assume the character of special correspondent without any anxiety, and that I would be received for what I was. I had previously posed in many characters which were not so aptly fitted, and I believed I had carried them through successfully. This would be child's play to an old hand; besides, it had been part of my livelihood and was no assumedrôle, it was merely acting as one's self. One of the best, most influential andrespected newspapers in London was therefore approached. I was no stranger to its editor, who received me with cordiality and gave me the necessary credentials.
In order to supplement my London references I sought for and easily obtained a further commission from the head editor of a series of country daily and weekly issues. A passport carried the announcement that I was a journalist, and everything appeared to be in order.
On arrival abroad, in the first country to which my work was allotted, as a special journalist I made application to the head Transmission Department to bespeak a legitimation card, which added an additional official stamp to my papers.
No one could have been more helpful or sympathetic than the Transmission Department officials, but in this particular instance it subsequently transpired they took copies of my credentials, which they handed over to the Chief of the Criminal Investigation Department. Of course, I knew nothing of this at the time, although it would not in any way have disturbed my equanimity or peace of mind if I had.
A chief superintendent, whom I had to interview, was exceptionally kind. He strictly adhered to his duty to his country, but the leaning of his sympathies he appeared absolutely unable to restrain. "Your paper," he said, "is a power in Europe. It is always fair, impartial, and reliable. Many of my countrymen read it, and we know that it does not exaggerate the true facts. I respect it, my colleagues respect it, although they might not say so, and you may rely upon all the help I can give you. You must remember, however, the position we are placed in. You must be careful not to offend against our recently passed laws or you will not get your messages through. Also, you may be misunderstood." I thanked him and sought further enlightenment. I guessed what he was hinting at, but I wished to draw out of the man all he was willing to disclose.
"You know," the superintendent continued, "that you must not use our wires, either telephone or telegraph, to report movement of any ships of foreign nations which are at war. Our instructions are very strict upon this point. Wemust carry out our duties to the utmost. But these Germans! They are not men, they are mad dogs. Their idea of war seems to be extermination without regard to the law of nations. They murder women and children; they seem to have no feelings. They would overrun our small country to-morrow if they thought any advantage could be gained thereby. Alas, poor innocent, unoffending Belgium, whom they undertook by honourable treaty to protect and uphold! How they have ruined her, burned her towns, ravaged her entire country, raped her daughters, robbed her churches and treasures; and, on top of all, fined her inhabitants for not returning to be made slaves to oppressors and brutal taskmasters. 'Vengeance is mine,' saith the Lord. If they do not suffer for all this, then there is no justice on earth or in heaven above." We were alone in his private office. Before speaking he had carefully closed the door, having first looked anxiously into the outer office. Now he turned to me and, extending both hands, added: "Reading these things, hearing of them from eye-witnesses, hearing even worse in detail which made my flesh creep, can you wonder that we, a peace-loving people, who never did like those overbearing Germans, pray for the day when they will find their level in the world and when they will be compelled to behave like decent-minded people?"
I cordially agreed, and inquired what my loquacious friend was leading up to.
"You have a Press Censor in your country, I presume?"—"Yes." "If he saw in the course of his duties anything which he thought might be of advantage to your Government, or to its naval administrators, to know, I suppose he would at once cause it to be sent along?" "Really, my dear sir," I interjected, "I have no knowledge of what our Censor does. I know he's an awful nuisance to us newspaper men; he holds up our copy for indefinite periods. But I, like yourself, assume he is an Englishman." And I looked him square in the face and wondered whether he would guess what I certainly had no intention of admitting. "Good!" he exclaimed. "Now, in this country our newspaper men getround our regulations by using simple little codes, which in their wording refer to things domestic, but in reality can be translated into something very, very different. For example, 'Mrs. Jones of —— has just had twins; one is strong, the other very weak and not expected to live,' might easily be arranged to convey the interpretation that a couple of German submarines had entered the port of ——, one of which was a damaged condition. I expect your paper would like to have such items of news? Even if it were not allowed to publish it, your Censor might like to have the news to hand along. Such a message, worded as I suggest, would not offend against our rules and regulations. We should accept it, not knowing or caring for any possible hidden meaning. Do you understand, my dear sir, what I want to convey?"
Wondering at the back of my mind whether he was just sounding me, or whether he was so truly sympathetic with the Allies that he was really anxious to help stop the war as soon as possible, I followed the wise course of terminating the interview. After thanking the superintendent for his kind assistance and sympathy I left.
It is an unwritten rule of the Secret Service never to give anything away unless it is imperative so to do, or a more than commensurate advantage is gained thereby.
It is an unwritten rule of the same Service to keep away from all Government officials, irrespective of nationality, in so far as one reasonably can.
In spite of the deadly earnestness of the gentleman I had just left, I felt puzzled. I did not understand his voluntary and unnecessary outburst of outraged sentiment. Instinct told me that somewhere there was something moving which I must guard against. What it was, or from which quarter I was to expect it, I had no idea.
In the Secret Service one must paddle one's own canoe, alone and unassisted; always up-stream; always through dangerous rapids, wherein at every yard are hidden rocks and snags ready to tear the frail craft asunder; always through countries overrun with enemies armed with poisonousarrows which are fired singly and in volleys whenever the smallest opportunity is given; always hunted and stalked both day and night by the most persevering, cunning, and desperate huntsmen in the world; always on the move, with never a sure, safe, or secure resting-place for one's weary limbs; and always on thequi viveagainst a thousand and one unseen, unknown, and unsuspected dangers. No wonder that members of this Service so soon become fatalists.
A few days later I was closeted with a local journalist out of collar. He wanted a job. He spoke six languages, had had smooth and rough experiences in America, and was a man of great ability. His weak spot was alcohol. He had had chances innumerable. Friends had helped him until their patience had been exhausted. Now that his domestic ship was badly on the rocks, the whole family half-starved, and himself a total abstainer—by force of circumstances—another last chance seemed to his unfortunate wife to fall as the blessed manna from heaven in the wilderness. I treated him generously and trusted him—as far as I could have trusted any ordinary person—but he, an ordinary mortal of this proverbially ungrateful world, at once sold his benefactor to a higher bidder, in so far as it was possible for him so to do. It happened thus-wise.
Not satisfied with the liberal terms I had agreed to give him, which covered full travelling expenses, living expenses and remuneration separately assessed, he approached various carrying firms and tried to wheedle from them free passes. Meeting with no sympathy—probably they knew him by former experience—he visited the police and sold me over to them as an alleged spy. Naturally the police wanted evidence. This the man undertook to get. He made excuse after excuse to delay his departure on my business. He visited me daily with a long list of questions; he suggested the obtaining of information concerning local naval and military intelligence which did not interest me in the least; he pressed for written instructions, special codes, and complicated arrangements regulating the sending and receiving of correspondence—anything, in fact, which would gain himtime and which might prove my undoing—all of which, however, I suggested he should prepare himself if he wanted them.
The man's testimonials were excellent upon all points excepting the one weakness before referred to, and I treated him quite unsuspectingly. Little did I know that when he made notes in shorthand they were in fact literal and verbatim reports of our entire conversation, made at the suggestion of the police and for their special benefit. I afterwards heard that detectives had helped to prepare the very code he brought to me and which he was so eager for me to substitute for one I had suggested.
Had I been indiscreet, and had I given anything at all away, or had I trusted this man with any facts relating to or concerning those connected with my real employment, I would have been arrested on the spot. As it was, the police learned nothing which did not appear to them legitimate, in order, and most flattering to their country, to their countrymen, and to themselves.
Remarkable as it may appear, it was, however, a fact that I was restless and uneasy. Instinct seemed to whisper in my ears, continually day and night, messages of warning that all was not well. The air seemed overcharged with electricity. It felt heavy, like an ominous calm preceding a violent storm. Yet, rack my brain as I would, I could not for the life of me fathom the depth of the mystery, nor could I trace its origin to any fountain-head.
Meanwhile my new assistant entered upon his undertaking. In a few days he sent to me by code a detailed description of a sea engagement between German and English warships. It was the fight off the Dogger Bank in the North Sea, in April, 1915.
In the course of the next six weeks, in addition to his proper work, arranging with outpost correspondent agents, he collected and forwarded at regular intervals a mass of interesting matter, all good newspaper copy, with many little tit-bits of special news which were most acceptable. But he would rub in items of local naval and military intelligence in spite of my repeated instructions to the contrary.
Not only was I a staunch fatalist, but I believed in a Divine Providence which directed one's actions and destinies, which shaped one's ends, rough-hew them how one might. In this instance it probably saved my liberty from being suddenly and inconveniently disturbed. Before I received any of these reports before mentioned they were all (I have since ascertained) intercepted and carefully studied by the Criminal Investigation Department. Naturally, my replies were anticipated by them with still greater pleasure. Dame Providence, however, directed the pen when I upbraided my assistant, reminding him he was engaged in journalism, not espionage; that he was representing a great newspaper and for the time being I was a guest in an hospitable, generous country; further, that I would at once dispense with his services if he offended against that country's laws; and that, when he sent information concerning German spies, such was wrongly addressed—he should have sent it direct to the local police, whom, I added, werethe most intelligent, fair-minded and smartest crowd of their kind anywhere in Europe.
I cannot help smiling to myself now when I think of this. It seems so ridiculous to think that I should have penned such flattering words regarding those who were attempting to catch me,flagrante delicto, as the law puts it! It probably puzzled them not a little, whilst it must have caused them to suspect their wily journalistic friend as running with the hare and at the same time hunting with the hounds.
About this period something else occurred which added to my uneasiness. Naturally my most closely-guarded secret was my main line of communication with London. No one held the secret of this but the most trusted in the Service. One day an intercepted message was brought to me. It contained a sign by which one of my messages could be identified. I tested this message by a dozen different ways; the result was rubbish in each instance. I knew by this that nothing of any importance was known; but why should the message have been floated into channels wherein it seemed to be known that I had nets? Who had floated it? How had the sign even come to be used? I puzzled for hours ina dark room smoking my customary strong black cigars furiously all the time, and I left off more puzzled than when I began. I put on an agent to follow and to watch myself from a distance, to try and see if anyone, and if so whom, were then amusing themselves with that interesting pastime.
I put on another agent to "smear," or to attempt to, a volunteer agent whom I relied upon to a certain extent for local correspondence. I had long entertained strong suspicions concerning the latter, but I could never find any tangible proof against him. I wrote spoof letters to myself and I caused other similar missives to be sent to myself from various quarters, upon which I was sure my interceptor would take action, and his movement would probably be thereby detected. I tried and tested various simple and ingenious dodges to trap my tormentor, but everything proved in vain.
Exactly three days after intercepting the first message a repeat followed through the same channels. It was a lengthy document and bore the outward visible signs of genuineness, but inwardly it read nothing but nonsense. The object my enemies aimed at had failed. I had provided for that. But whether the police, or the naval or military authorities, were behind the attempt, or whether it was an experiment of Hun origin, I never could unravel.