F
Fortunately I am accustomed to face emergencies without losing my presence of mind.
The manner of Vassileffsky had prepared me for some display of suspicion on his part, though I hardly anticipated his procedure would be so theatrical.
Fixing him with my sternest look, I responded,
“Captain Vassileffsky, I do not think you quite understand what you are doing. I will talk to you in the morning, when you are more yourself.”
He drew back, considerably disconcerted.
“Very well, I will listen to what you have to say in the morning. In the meantime you will be under a guard.”
I shrugged my shoulders with a disdainful smile.
“Be good enough to let me see my quarters,” I said.
More and more abashed, the Captain summoned one of his officers, and gave him some instructions.
“Follow me, sir,” said the lieutenant. I walked after him with perfect self-possession.
“I do not wish to make a fuss to-night, as Captain Vassileffsky is not himself,” I said haughtily, as we drew out of hearing. “But you will understand that unless I receive an apology in the morning, I shall complain to his majesty the Czar, by whose orders I am here.”
The lieutenant looked badly frightened.
“It is not my fault, as you can see, sir. I am only obeying orders. Will you accept my own berth for the night, sir?”
I thanked him and entered a small, comfortably-fitted state-room. With profuse apologies, he turned the key and left me to my own reflections.
I slept soundly, rocked by the tide of the Finland Gulf.
In the morning my jailer came to wake me.
“Captain Vassileffsky presents his compliments, and asks you to breakfast with him in his cabin, in half an hour.”
This message was a welcome proof to me that my bluff had produced the desired effect. I accepted the invitation as if it was a matter of course.
I dressed, and went to the cabin where Vassileffsky awaited me.
“Are we friends or foes this morning?” I called out with a good-humored laugh, as I greeted him.
The Russian looked dull and nervous.
“I hope all will be well,” he muttered. “Let us have something to eat before we talk.”
He might have said, something to drink, for his own breakfast was mainly of champagne. I, myself, made a point of eating heartily, and drank only coffee.
“Now, Vassileffsky,” I said in authoritative tones, “to business. First of all, you want some money.”
It was a guess, but a fairly safe one. Without waiting for the astonished man to reply, I took out my pocket-book.
“How much can you do with till the fleet sails?” I asked, still in the same matter-of-fact tone.
Fairly nonplussed, the Captain blurted out,
“I should like two thousand.”
I shook my head.
“I can let you have only a thousand now, but you shall have the balance this day week.” I counted the thousand rubles, and handed them to him. “They are grumbling, rather, in Berlin over the expense.”
It was, of course, my object to give Vassileffsky no opening for a cross-examination, but to take it for granted that we were on confidential terms.
At the word “Berlin” he opened his eyes pretty wide.
“Does this money come from Germany?” he exclaimed, half-withdrawing his hand.
I affected surprise in my turn.
“You have not received any information at all, apparently! My message must have miscarried. Didn’t the Princess see you?”
Vassileffsky looked still more surprised. His demeanor taught me a good deal. I saw that Petrovitch had not trusted him very far. The financier had evidently kept all the threads of the intrigue in his own hands, as far as possible.
So much the better, I reflected. His removal would disorganize matters even more thoroughly than I had ventured to hope.
“What Princess?” the Captain asked.
“The Princess Y——, of course.”
He brightened up a little, as though this name, at all events, was familiar.
“No, she has not been here.”
“One can never trust these women,” I muttered aloud. “She has not been at all the same since the death of her Englishman.”
“Of Sterling, do you mean?”
“Yes. You heard of it, I suppose?”
Vassileffsky grinned.
“Rather sudden, wasn’t it?”
I smiled meaningly, as I retorted,
“You remember he fainted rather unexpectedly that night he dined with me.”
A look of relief broke out on Vassileffsky’s face, asI thus referred to an incident which he naturally supposed could be known only to Petrovitch.
“My dear fellow, I beg a thousand pardons for my stupid conduct last night,” he burst out. “But you must admit that your disguise is extraordinary.”
“Not a word!” I returned. “It is always better to err on the side of distrust. Besides, I wished to spend a night on your ship in any case. Your crew can be thoroughly depended on, if I am any judge.”
“They would bombard the Tower of London, if I gave the word,” boasted Vassileffsky.
It is extraordinary how widely the belief prevails on the Continent of Europe that the London Tower is still a fortress, charged with the protection of the British capital.
“At all events, they will not be frightened by the sight of the Union Jack?” I returned.
The Russian officer gave me an alarmed glance.
“You do not mean—you are not asking us to fire on the British fleet?”
“No, no,” I reassured him.
“Ah, that is all right. For the moment I confess you frightened me. They say we shall have to pass Admiral Beresford!”
“What are you prepared to do?” I asked, concealing my deep interest in the reply.
Vassileffsky’s manner became slightly reproachful.
“You did not bargain with me to attack an armedship,” he said in the tone of one who reminds another of his agreement. “It was understood that we were to attack merchantmen, like the Vladivostockers.”
At last I had a direct confirmation of my suspicions.
“And what is the tone of the fleet generally?” I inquired.
“I have done my best to make them all of the same mind. They will do their best, depend on it. I think there will be a few English vessels mysteriously lost at sea during the next two or three months! The prize courts cannot always be depended on.”
By an effort I restrained my indignation at these atrocious hints. The Baltic Fleet was about to seek the open sea, secretly intending to miss no chance of sinking a British merchantman that should be unlucky enough to cross its path.
It was with a feeling of chagrin that I perceived it would be useless to send any message to Lord Bedale of what was in preparation. On certain subjects the British people are deaf and blind. They believe that all foreign statesmen are as high-minded as a Gladstone, and all foreign officials as scrupulous and truthful as the Chevalier Bayard himself.
Captain Vassileffsky continued,
“Our men are badly scared by reports of the Japanese plans. It is supposed that they have torpedoboats lurking in the English ports. Hull is said to be full of them.”
“Why, Hull?”
Vassileffsky gave me a wink.
“Hull is the great fishing center. Whole fleets of traders come out from there to the fishing banks in the North Sea. We are going to stir them up a bit.”
The outlines of the plot became every moment more clear.
“On what pretext?” I asked.
The Russian answered me without noticing that I was not so well informed as himself.
“Oh, we shall find pretexts enough, you bet. For one thing, we shall signal them to clear out of the way, and when they have their trawl nets down and can’t move! That will be lively. There will be a collision or two, I shouldn’t wonder.”
“But isn’t that against the rule of the road?”
Though not a seaman, I had always heard that a vessel in motion is bound to avoid one that is at rest. I knew, moreover, that a steamship was bound to make way for a sailing vessel.
Vassileffsky cursed the rule of the road.
“It will be a question of evidence,” he exclaimed. “My word against a dirty fisherman’s. What do you say?”
I pretended to be thoroughly satisfied. Still, knowingwhat I did of the Russian character, I had some hope that the Captain was boasting in order to impress me, and that he would not really dare to run down a British vessel within reach of the shores of England.
Our conversation was interrupted by a gun.
As the report died away, a junior officer ran down the companionway, helter-skelter, and burst into the cabin.
“Something’s up, sir,” he cried to his commander. “They are signaling from the Admiral’s ship.”
Vassileffsky darted up the steps and on to the bridge, and I followed.
The Baltic fleet presented a striking spectacle. Every vessel was busily reporting the signals from the flag ship, the launches were dashing to and fro, and there was every sign of bustle and activity.
The signal officer read out Admiral Rojestvensky’s order:
“The fleet will proceed to Libau to-dayen routeto the East. Anchors will be weighed at noon. By order of the Czar.”
M. Auguste had failed me at last!
With the frightful boasts of Vassileffsky still ringing in my ears, I felt that I must make one effort to stay its departure.
“This news compels me to return to Petersburg immediately,” I told the Captain. “Have the goodness to put me ashore at once.”
For a moment or two the Russian made no answer. I glanced at him curiously.
His face had gone suddenly livid. His limbs were trembling. He gave me the dull look of a man stupefied by fear.
“The Japanese!” he ejaculated in a thick voice.
I seized him by the arm.
“Are you pretending?” I whispered.
He gave me a savage glance.
“It’s true!” he said. “Those devils will be up to something. It’s all over with the fleet. No one believes we shall ever see Port Arthur.”
Grave and pre-occupied, I went ashore and caught a fast train to Petersburg.
It was late when I got to the little house on the Alexander Quay. The faithful Breuil received me with a serious face.
“Fauchette is here,” he announced.
“Fauchette?”
“Yes. She has some news for you.”
“Let me see her.”
I strode in front to my study, where I was immediately joined by the maid, who appeared not a little alarmed.
I never like to see my assistants agitated.
“Sit down, my good girl,” I said soothingly. “Do not be afraid; I know what pains you take to serve me. Now, what is it?”
“Madame has dismissed me.”
I had feared as much.
“On what grounds?”
“She gave none, except that she was leaving home.”
I pricked up my ears.
“Did she tell you where she was going?”
“Yes, to her estates in the country.”
“It was a lie, I suppose. She had come to suspect you, had she not?”
“Since Monsieur’s escape, I fear yes.”
“And have you ascertained——?”
“The Princess has left Petersburg by the midday train for——”
“For?” I broke in impatiently.
“For Berlin.”
I rang the bell. Breuil appeared.
“Have you got the tickets?” I asked.
“Yes, sir.”
“And my dress as a pilot of the Kiel Canal?”
“It is packed.”
“And what time does the next train leave?”
“In two hours from now.”
“Good. And now, my children, we will have supper.”
A
As the really exciting moment of the protracted struggle drew near, I summoned all my energies to meet it.
I alighted in Berlin armed only with two weapons, the passport made out in the name of Petrovitch, and a fairly accurate knowledge of the schemes, or at all events the hopes, of the German Government.
From the first beginning of my long investigation, all the clues I had picked up had led steadily in one direction.
The great disorganized Empire of the Czar’s, with its feeble-willed autocrat, its insubordinate grand dukes, its rival ministers pulling different ways, and its greedy officials whose country was their pocket, had been silently and steadily enfolded in the invisible web of German statecraft.
The brilliant personality of Wilhelm II had magnetized the vacillating, timorous Nicholas. Count Bülow had courted the Russian Foreign Office with the assiduous arts of a lover, and his wooing hadbeen crowned by complete success. Through Petrovitch the grand dukes had been indirectly bribed, and the smaller fry like M. Auguste had been bought outright. Even the Army and Navy had been cajoled, or bought, or terrorized by pretended revelations of Japanese designs.
Russia had become a supple implement in the hands of the German Kaiser, the sovereign who for nearly twenty years had been striving toward one goal by a hundred different crooked paths.
It was evident that the unexplained disappearance of Petrovitch must have struck consternation into his employers. I suspected that the Princess Y—— had been summoned to Berlin to throw light on the event, and possibly to be furnished with instructions which would enable her to take over the dead man’s work.
My position was now peculiarly difficult. I wished to get in touch with the principals for whom Petrovitch had acted, but to avoid, if possible, meeting any one who had known him personally.
Above all, I was determined not to risk an encounter with Sophia. She knew that I was still alive, and I feared that her feminine intuition, quickened by love, would penetrate through whatever disguise I might adopt.
Under these circumstances I decided to begin by approaching Herr Finkelstein, the head of the imperial Secret Service in Berlin.
This man was an old crony of mine. While a magnificent organizer of espionage, he was a poor observer himself, and I had already succeeded on one occasion in imposing myself on him under a false identity.
I had brought with me the papers which I had obtained by bribery from the police agent Rostoy, representing me as an inspector in the secret police of the Russian Empire.
Wearing my pilot’s dress, but carrying these and other papers in my pocket, I presented myself at Finkelstein’s office, and asked to see him.
I was shown in first, as I had expected, to Finkelstein’s secretary, who asked me my business.
“I can tell that only to the Herr Superintendent himself,” I said.
“If you will let him know that I have just come from Petersburg, I am sure he will receive me.”
The secretary seemed to think so too. He went straight into his chief’s room and came out immediately to fetch me in.
As soon as I found myself alone with the head of the German service, I said quietly,
“I have brought you a message from M. Petrovitch.”
“Petrovitch!” exclaimed the Superintendent, surprised out of his usual caution. “But he is dead!”
“You have been misinformed,” I replied in an assured tone.
Finkelstein looked at me searchingly.
“My informant does not often make mistakes,” he observed.
“The Princess is deceived this time, however,” was my retort.
It was a fresh surprise for the Superintendent.
“The Princess! Then you know?” He broke off short, conscious that he was making an admission.
“The Princess Y—— having left Petersburg, it was natural to suppose that she had come here to consult you,” I answered modestly, not wishing to appear too well informed.
Finkelstein frowned.
“You have not yet told me who you are,” he reminded me.
I produced the forged papers.
“I am an inspector attached to the Third Section, as you will see. I must inform you, however, that I am not here with the knowledge of my superiors.”
The German gave a glance at the papers, which were similar to others which he must have had presented to him from time to time.
“That is all satisfactory,” he said, as he returned them to me. “But you say that you have a message from M. Petrovitch?”
“He had no opportunity of giving me any but this,” I responded, producing the passport.
This time Finkelstein seemed really satisfied.
“It is clear that you know something about him, at least,” he remarked. “I will listen to what you have to say.”
“M. Petrovitch is confined in Schlüsselburg.”
The name of the dreaded fortress, the last home of so many political prisoners, caused Finkelstein a shock.
“Gott im Himmel!You don’t say so! How did he get there? Tell me everything.”
“He does not know from what quarter the blow came. The only person he can think of who might have denounced him is the Princess herself.”
“The Princess Y——?”
“Exactly.”
The German looked incredulous.
“But they were hand in glove. The Princess was his best agent.”
“True. Unfortunately there is always one source of danger where a woman is concerned—she cannot control her affections. It appears that M. Petrovitch ordered her to remove a certain Englishman, a spy of some kind, who was giving trouble, and Madame Y—— was attached to the fellow. She carried out her orders, but M. Petrovitch fears that she has taken revenge on him.”
Finkelstein gave a superior smile.
“I can dispose of that suspicion,” he said confidently.“The Princess didnotcarry out her orders. The man you speak of—who is the most dangerous and unprincipled scoundrel in the world—has escaped, and we have lost all trace of him.”
It was my turn to show surprise and alarm.
“What you tell me is appalling! I ought to see the Princess as soon as possible. If what she says is true, it must be the Englishman who has brought about Petrovitch’s arrest.”
“He is no Englishman,” the Superintendent returned. “He is an American, a Pole, a Frenchman, whatever you please. That man has been at the bottom of all the troubles in Europe for the last twenty years. I have employed him myself, sometimes, so I ought to know something about him.”
I listened with an interest that was not feigned to this character of myself. It was, all the same, a lie that Finkelstein had ever employed me; on the contrary, I had been called in by his imperial master to check his work.
“Then what is to be done?” I asked, as the German finished speaking. “M. Petrovitch sent me here to warn you against the Princess, and to demand your influence to secure his release.”
“That will be a difficult matter. I shall have to consult the Minister. In the meantime, where can I find you?”
I mentioned the name of a hotel.
“And the Princess Y——? Where can I see her?”
“I expect that she has left for Kiel,” said the Superintendent. “She has volunteered to carry out the plan originally proposed by Petrovitch.”
“Then in that case you will not require my services?” I said, with an air of being disappointed. “M. Petrovitch thought you might find me useful in his place.”
“I must consult others before I can say anything as to that,” was the cautious reply.
He added rather grudgingly,
“I did not know M. Petrovitch myself, you see. It was thought better that he should not come to Berlin.”
This statement relieved me of a great anxiety. I now saw my way to take a bolder line.
“So I understood, sir. But I did not venture to approach his majesty except through you.”
Finkelstein started again, and gave me a new look of curiosity.
“Who authorized you to mention the Emperor?”
I tried to play the part of a man who has made an unintentional slip.
“I spoke too quickly. Petrovitch informed me—that is to say, I supposed—” I broke down in feigned confusion.
I knew inquisitiveness to be the Superintendent’sbesetting sin, and, up to a certain point, I had an interest in tempting him on.
“You appear to be more in the confidence of M. Petrovitch than you are willing to admit,” he said sagely. “Up to the present you have not explained how he came to make you his messenger.”
I leaned back with a faint smile.
“I imagine you are quite astute enough to guess my secret, if you choose, Herr Finkelstein. But you must excuse me if I am a little careful whom I trust, especially after the behavior of PrincessY——.”
“You are M. Petrovitch himself! Of course! I thought as much all along,” Finkelstein said with a smile of triumph. “Well, you are certainly right to be cautious; but, as you see, it is not easy to deceive an old hand like myself.”
“At all events you will be at least equally cautious, I hope. What you tell me about this international spy being still at large has disturbed me a good deal, I confess.”
“Make your mind easy,” the German returned with a patronizing air. “We are in Berlin here, not in Petersburg. This gentleman will not venture within my reach, I assure you.”
I professed every satisfaction with this guarantee, and took my leave.
I
Iwas now to face Wilhelm II.
It was solely for this purpose that I had come to Berlin. But I knew the great advantage of getting myself vouched for in advance by a third party, and therefore I had been anxious to convince Finkelstein of my identity in the first place, so that his master might accept me without inquiry as to whether I was the man I claimed to be.
I dined quietly in my hotel, a small tavern in a back street. It was getting late, and I was on the point of going to bed, when I heard the noise of a motor rushing up and stopping suddenly outside the little inn.
An aide-de-camp burst in upon me.
“Your name, sir?” he demanded in a whisper.
“Petrovitch,” I replied in the same tone.
“Come this way, if you please.”
In less than a minute I was seated in the car, which was dashing at a really dangerous pace through the nearly deserted streets.
“I am taking you to Potsdam,” was all the explanation my companion thought necessary.
It did not take us long to reach the famous palace of Frederick the Great, which the growth of Berlin has almost turned into a suburban residence.
My conductor brought me past all the sentries and servants, and led me down some steps into what seemed to be a subterranean hall. It was decorated with statues and paintings of the ancestors of Wilhelm II., together with weapons, suits of armor, and banners of the successive periods in which they lived.
But the most striking object in the hall or crypt—for it might have been either—was a trophy erected on a species of altar at one end, exhibiting a variety of crowns.
At the foot were a number of small coronets, representing those worn by the former Margraves of Brandenburg, in whom the Hohenzollern family took its rise. Above were ranged the crowns of the Kings of Prussia, that of Frederick the Great being in the center. Still higher rose the three imperial crowns of Germany, those of William I., Frederick III., and the present Emperor. And then, right on the summit, came a still more gorgeous object, whose like I had never seen before.
It was a colossal miter, somewhat after the fashion of the Papal tiara, wrought out of pure gold, thickly studded with great pearls, and surmounted by a cross.
But I had barely time to notice this singular display. As my guide left me on the threshold of the hall, I was aware that I stood in the presence of the German Emperor.
This extraordinary monarch, whose great and far-reaching views are combined with a type of extravagance which has long made him looked upon as theenfant terribleof Europe, was about to teach me a new side of his character.
He received me seated in a small ivory chair like a throne, and attired in a garment of pontifical design.
“Advance, M. Petrovitch,” he commanded in a loud voice.
As I stood in front of him, he said theatrically,
“I receive you in the Hall of the Hohenzollerns. You see around you the sacred memorials of the family which Providence has raised up to be the saviors of Europe, and the future rulers of the world.”
In response to this invitation I took a longer and more comprehensive view of the various objects already described. The Kaiser condescended to point some of them out to me with a long two-handed sword which he held.
I began to suspect seriously that the megalomania which has always formed one of Wilhelm’s characteristic traits, was overpowering his good sense.
“M. Petrovitch,” my august cicerone proceeded, “you see there the crowns which have been won andworn by my illustrious and never-to-be-forgotten ancestors. Can you guess the meaning of the diadem above—which I have designed myself?
“That,” declared the last and most remarkable of the Hohenzollerns, “is intended to be worn by that member of my Family who shall be called by the united voice of the other sovereigns to the supreme world monarchy. It is destined to be our Planetary Crown.”
I bowed in stupefaction. The Kaiser seemed pleased with the impression he had made.
“And now,” he said, “since it is necessary that I should be sure of you before I trust you with my plans, kneel down.”
I knelt, feeling as if I were in a dream. Wilhelm II. solemnly held out the hilt of his two-handed sword:—
“You swear to yield faith, loyalty and utter obedience now and henceforth to Almighty God, and the Head of the Hohenzollerns!”
It being impossible to refuse the oath in the circumstances, I kissed the sword, with a mental reservation.
Wilhelm II. surprised me by thereupon laying it across my shoulders.
“I dub thee knight of the Sacred Order of the Hohenzollerns! Arise.”
I got up, thoroughly confused. The Emperor invitedme to be seated, and proceeded to deliver a harangue—for it was nothing less.
“Bismarck had not sufficient genius to see the destiny of the Hohenzollerns. With the vision of a mere German Junker, he looked on Russia as the enemy.
“It is I who have changed all that. I have taught the Czar to look to me for guidance and protection. Should the present revolutionary movement become dangerous, I shall march at the head of my army to the rescue, and reinstate the Romanoffs as my vassals.
“The only obstacle in the path of the Hohenzollerns is an island which two of my Army Corps could subdue in a fortnight. But in order to invade it with safety, I must have France on my side.
“It is for this end that I have been working. France cherishes a grudge against me because of the glorious exploits of my immortal grandfather. Moreover, my uncle, Edward VII., has contrived to win the friendship of the Republicans.
“But France is the ally of Russia, and if Russia is attacked, France must draw the sword on her behalf.
“You understand?—with the first shot which is fired by a British warship on the Russian flag, I shall be able to invade England.”
I understood indeed. Briefly and plainly Wilhelm II. had summed up the result of my own inquiries and reasonings.
“It is you,” the Emperor proceeded, “who have undertaken to secure this result.”
I bowed, intensely desirous to know exactly what it was that Petrovitch had pledged himself to do.
“I have just rewarded you for the services you have already rendered, by admitting you to my Family Order, an order which I intend shall take precedence of the Golden Fleece, and even the Garter. Should you carry out your present task to my satisfaction I shall consider no reward too great for you.”
I trembled as I listened to this wild vaporing. If such were the private thoughts of the Kaiser, no wonder some of his public utterances smacked of the visionary.
I could not doubt that he was thoroughly in earnest. Long brooding on the greatness of his ancestors, and his own importance as the sole European ruler who has kings for his satellites, had filled him with the fanatical spirit of a Mohammed or a Hildebrand. He believed, firmly and sincerely believed, that Providence had called him to the sovereignty of the globe, and authorized him to sweep every rival out of his path.
“Your majesty overwhelms me,” I murmured. “Consider, sire, that to be your servant is in itself an honor so great that no other reward is necessary.”
The Kaiser smiled graciously.
“Well, now, M.dePetrovitch——” his majesty emphasizedthe particle by way of reminding me that I was now a knight of the important Order of Hohenzollern—“let us discuss your next step.”
I seized the opportunity to obtain the information I was so anxious to secure.
“I should feel it presumptuous to enter into anything like a discussion with you, sire. If your majesty will be gracious enough to impart your criticism on my proposal?”
Wilhelm II. looked at me as though he found me to be a person of much good sense.
“Your idea, my dear de Petrovitch, as I understand it, is to provoke the British to reprisals by some outrage on the part of the Baltic Fleet during its passage to the Far East.
“Unfortunately, as you must see, the British are determined not to be provoked. Remember what has been done already. You have captured and sunk their ships, in violation of international law; you have sent out volunteer cruisers from the Black Sea in defiance of treaties, and turned back their mail steamers with government stores on board.
“What has been the result? The English Government has complained to yours; the Czar has ordered explanations to be given, and the thing has blown over.
“This time there must be something more than that. There must be something which cannot be explained away. We must if possible place NicholasII., as well as Great Britain, in a position from which neither can retreat without loss of honor.
“To this end it is necessary that the Baltic Fleet should commit an act of war, and that the Czar should be convinced that the provocation has come from the English side. Do you understand?”
I recalled the hints dropped by Captain Vassileffsky at Revel.
“Your majesty has been informed perhaps that I have caused the officers and men of the Fleet to believe that they will find Japanese torpedo boats lying in wait for them among the English fishing vessels in the North Sea. In consequence, they will be ready to fire without waiting to see if the torpedo boats are really there, especially if the fishermen fail to retire as the Fleet approaches.”
The Kaiser shook his head.
“All that is leaving too much to chance, my good de Petrovitch. What is required is something more positive. In short, the torpedo boats must really be there.”
I lifted my eyes to his.
“There is not a Japanese torpedo boat within ten thousand miles of the North Sea, unfortunately.”
Wilhelm II. smiled a meaning smile.
“If that is all, we must so far forget the duties of neutrality as to allow the friends of Japan to procure a craft suitable for the purpose from our dockyard at Kiel.”
A
As the full extent of this audacious plot was laid bare before my eyes I had a difficulty in believing in its reality.
I was obliged to remind myself of some of the maneuvres which have marked German statecraft in the recent past, of the forgeries and “reinsurance” treaties of Bismarck, of the patronage extended to Abdul Hamid, of the secret intrigue that brought about the disasters of Greece.
If I had had any scepticism left, the Emperor would have dispelled it by the clear and business-like explanations which followed.
His majesty produced a chart of the North Sea, showing the coasts of Great Britain and Germany, with the Kiel Canal and so forth. Half-way between the opposite shores a dotted outline marked the situation of the great shoals which attract the fish, and from which the harvests of the sea are gathered by the brave and industrious toilers of Grimsby, Hull, and many another port.
From the northern point of Denmark, two lines inred ink were drawn right down the map to where the North Sea narrows into the Straits of Dover.
The first of these lines was fairly direct, passing about thirty miles to the eastward of the great fishing grounds.
The second line took a wide curve to the west, and crossed right over the center of a shoal marked “Dogger Bank.”
The Kaiser proceeded to explain.
“This is a duplicate of the charts used by the pilots of the North Sea. I have offered my brother Nicholas as a special favor the services of German pilots, and they will board the vessels of the Baltic Fleet as soon as it leaves Danish waters.
“As you see, the right course would take the fleet a long way off the English fishing-boats. But the pilots who go on board will receive secret orders at the last moment to take the Russian ships over the Dogger Bank, and, if possible, into the very midst of any fishing fleet that may be there.
“Then all that is required is that you should be on the spot, and should fire the first shot from the midst of the fishing-boats.”
I endeavored to preserve a calm demeanor.
“May I suggest to your majesty that the presence of a torpedo boat among them is likely to arouse suspicion beforehand. The English sailors have keen eyes.”
“I have thought of that. It will be necessary for you to have a submarine.”
“A submarine, sire!”
“Certainly. I have had six submarine torpedo boats built by my own designs at Kiel since this war broke out, for use in defending the approaches to the Canal.
“These boats are now lying in the inner harbor, all fitted out and ready for sea.
“You will take one, with a crew of your own, whom you must enlist secretly, and slip out through the Canal into the North Sea.
“You will proceed, keeping under the surface, till you reach the Dogger Bank, and find yourself among the trawl nets of the English fishermen.
“There you will wait till such time as the Russian ships come up.
“As soon as the right moment has arrived, you will rise to the surface and discharge a torpedo. As soon as you have drawn the fire of the Russians, and have seen an English fishing-boat struck, you can go beneath the surface again, and make the best of your way back to Kiel.”
“Your plan is perfection itself, sire!” I exclaimed with an admiration which was not wholly pretended, since the idea really was not lacking in cleverness.
The Kaiser nodded good-humoredly.
“The Russians will never be persuaded they werenot attacked first, and the English will never pass over such an outrage in their own waters,” his majesty remarked complacently. “Lord Charles Beresford will do the rest.”
“I am ready to carry out your orders, sire. All I require is an authority to take the submarine from Kiel.”
The Kaiser frowned.
“Have you had any authority from me for anything you have done up to the present, sir?” he demanded harshly.
As an answer in the negative was clearly expected, I gave it.
“Understand me, M. de Petrovitch, I repose every confidence in you; but I should not have held this conversation with any man, even my Chancellor, if I thought it could ever be used against me. If I gave you the authority you ask for, I should not be able to deny that I had ever employed you, in case of trouble.”
“Then you propose, sire——?”
“I intend you to take this vessel secretly, without authority from me or from any one else.”
“And if I am caught in the act of taking it? If any of the naval authorities question my movements?”
“You will not be caught. Your movements will not be questioned. I can assure you of so much.”
“I thank you, sire. That is quite sufficient.”
I retired from the imperial presence, though not, as I have had some reason to suspect, from the imperial observation. In other words, I felt pretty well convinced that there would be a watch on my movements till my task was over.
The same aide-de-camp awaited me outside the Hall of the Hohenzollerns, and carried me back to my obscure hotel with the same speed and silence as he had brought me.
The next morning I arose to find the papers filled with the news of the departure of the Baltic Fleet from Libau.
The Russian Admiral, as if in obedience to the secret promptings of Berlin, was reported as having issued a preposterous and illegal warning that he should fire on any ship of any nation that presumed to venture within reach of his guns. I could not help wondering what would be thought of this proclamation in the British Admiralty.
There being no more for me to do in Berlin, I took the first train to Kiel, the Portsmouth of Germany. Kiel itself, it will be remembered, stands at the Baltic end of the famous canal which the present Kaiser has had constructed for his warships to pass out to the North Sea without going around Denmark.
It was late when I arrived, but I determined tolose no time in seeing how far the secret orders of the Kaiser extended.
Accordingly, as soon as I had dined, I went out and took my way toward the government dockyard.
The entrance to the dockyard was guarded by a sentry with fixed bayonet. Behind him I saw a large iron gate which appeared to be heavily barred, with a small postern at one side, which was also closed.
I advanced toward the sentry, expecting every moment to hear a challenge ring out. To my genuine astonishment, nothing of the kind occurred. The sentry did not pay the slightest attention to me, but went on pacing to and fro as though I had been wearing a cap of invisibility.
I went up to the postern door, and tried the handle. It opened at a touch, and I found myself alone in the deserted dockyard.
For some time I groped my way forward by the light of the few scattered electric lights, till I reached the edge of a large basin which appeared to communicate with the outer harbor of Kiel.
Turning the opposite way, I went along the edge of the wharf, picking my way among timber balks, stacks of iron sheeting, chains, ropes, and all the other things that are found scattered about a naval dockyard.
At the head of the great basin I found a lock giving access to a small inner dock, in which a number of vessels were moored.
I made my way around, searching everywhere for the vessels I had been told I should find.
At last, in the farthest and most secluded corner, I perceived a row of small craft, shaped much like a shark, with a long narrow tube or funnel rising up from the center of each.
They lay low in the water, without being submerged. Alone among the shipping they carried no riding-lights. They appeared dark, silent, and deserted.
Almost unconsciously I ran my eye along them, counting them as they lay. Suddenly I was aroused to keen attention.
One—two—three—four—five. The Kaiser had assured me that I should find six submarines to choose from!
I counted once more with straining eyes.
One—two—three—four—five.
One of the mysterious craft had been taken away!