CHAPTER XVI
After Lillian Byrd and Topham had left Berlin, their relative importance in Rutile’s eyes underwent a gradual change. Anxious at first to hear from Miss Byrd chiefly because he hoped she might be able to discover something that might aid him to rescue his friend from what he felt sure was a dangerous entanglement, he soon became anxious to hear from her for her own sake. Therefore, he eagerly welcomed the letters she wrote him even before she left for Brazil, and he spent much time and used up much midnight oil in preparing answers.
Both the Ouro Pretos had left Berlin and with their departure, the possible political aspect of the affair was relegated to the back of his mind, especially as he could get no information concerning their interview with the Emperor. The question of restoring the duchy seemed to have entirely dropped out of sight, the general impression prevailing that the Emperor had denied the request and that the discomfited claimants had gone backto Brazil. And the murdered robber had been forgotten!
The whole affair was brought sharply back to Rutile’s mind, however, by the contents of a letter he received from Miss Byrd about three months after she had left England.
After the usual preliminaries, the letter proceeded:
“I know you must think I have been neglectful of your request to investigate the Ouro Pretos; but I have not really been so. The information you wanted was not altogether easy to obtain; and in getting it I chanced on some things that roused keen interest in me as a newspaper woman.
“You have, of course, heard of the rebellion that has broken out in the southern provinces of Brazil, but I doubt whether you have any accurate information as to its real strength. The Government naturally minimizes it. But it is really very serious.
“Briefly, it is organized and maintained chiefly by the 1,000,000 German immigrants, who form two-thirds of the population of the three southern provinces. With these are a few excitable Brazilians of the class that is always ‘agin the government’, partly because they hope to gain somethingfor themselves by success and partly because they are naturally prone to fly off the handle.
“The revolution has two prominent leaders; the Count of Ouro Preto, and his son. In Berlin we somehow got an idea that the old man was dead, but he isn’t. He is very much alive! It is his wife, the daughter of the duke of Hochstein, through whom your friends claim the duchy, who is dead.
“The old count is all sorts of a man. Like Castro of Venezuela he was a cattle-thief in early days—or so his enemies say—and graduated, through a period of banditism, to political prominence and enormous wealth. He has organized the rebellion and has it working like clockwork.
“You want to know, of course, whether this rebellion has any connection with Germany and with the request of Ouro Preto to the Kaiser. I think it has! So far as I can find out, there was no rumor of rebellion among the Germans here till young Ouro Preto got back two months ago; there was some discontent, of course, but not enough to account for an outbreak. This fact, however, by itself amounts to little. Nor is the prominence of the Ouro Pretos in the movement particularly significant, although of course, it iscumulative. What is more important, however, is that half a dozen German officers, whose names I will add at the end of this letter, are here training and leading the rebels. You might find out whether they are still carried on the rolls of the German army, and if not, why not?
“Another significant fact is that the rebels are being supplied with munitions of war from Germany. At least three steamers recently arrived from Hamburg loaded with all sorts of war materials. I know this to be a fact. You know how strict the Germans are when they want to be and how impossible it would be for three vessels to get away from German ports on filibustering expeditions without the connivance of the authorities. It would be interesting if you should be able to trace those arms and should find out that they came from government stores, wouldn’t it?
“Taken separately, you see these things prove nothing; taken together, they indicate that something is up. Just what it is, I don’t know. Do you?
“Being on the inside, so to speak, you may know why the Kaiser might want to cause trouble in Brazil. I confess I can’t see his object. And I can’t see what difference it makes to the UnitedStates—except as a basis for a newspaper story, which, by the way, I have not written. There’s self sacrifice for you.
“(N. B. If things get a little more exciting, I’ll have to use it, so watch out.)
“By the way, the countess seems not to be in Brazil and I can’t find out where she is. She didn’t come back with her brother.”
After Rutile read this letter, he made inquiries as to the German officers whose names Miss Byrd had added, and found that they had all resigned from the German army about three months before—two days after Ouro Preto’s interview with the Kaiser. Returning to his office after ascertaining this fact, he sought the ambassador and laid the facts before him.
His Excellency was a tall, polished, elderly gentleman, who dressed immaculately and walked very straight. He had been a professor of dead languages in a fresh-water college in early youth, had inherited a fortune, and had used it so shrewdly that a grateful president had selected him as minister to a small European power. After three years in that post, a new president had come into office and was about to dispense with his services, when he calmly requested to be transferred to Berlinas ambassador. Before the President had gotten over his amazement the would-be ambassador brought such influence to bear that the President hastened to make the appointment requested—lest a worse thing befall. Since then His Excellency had let Rutile run the business of the office while he himself had bettered the American record by spending more than ten times his salary and allowance in keeping up the dignity of his office. Rutile knew all this and knew that his Excellency would be the last man in the world to be rude enough to pry unnecessarily into the secrets of the government to which he was commissioned.
But he also felt reasonably sure that if he could convince the ambassador that there was real need of action, His Excellency would revert to the shirt-sleeve methods of the early American representatives, let the consequences to his social standing be what they might. But he would be hard to convince.
Rapidly Rutile recited the facts as he knew them. When he had finished, he paused for an instant.
“Well?” demanded His Excellency, placing his finger tips together and leaning back in the professorial attitude he had never lost. “Well, Mr. Rutile!You have stated your premises clearly. Now draw your deductions.”
Rutile reached out his hand and spun on its axis the great globe that stood by the desk. “Here is the danger spot,” he said, placing his finger on a particular spot.
The ambassador leaned forward. “Brazil?” he inquired.
“Southern Brazil,” corrected the secretary. “To speak exactly, the state of Rio Grande do Sul. The total population of that state is 2,000,000 of whom half are Germans or the children of Germans. Your Excellency understands that Brazil is Wilhelm’s last chance for a great German colony. All the rest of the valuable world had been collected and labelled by one or the other of the other great powers before Germany felt the need of expansion. Think a minute. What has Germany got? She’s got a slice or two of Africa, populated chiefly by niggers, mosquitoes, and soldiers. There aren’t any colonists there! She’s got a few miscellaneous islands about as big as a Kansas kitchen garden and good for nothing but naval stations. She’s got a few square miles of China, good enough for trade but no good at all for settlement. And year after year she sees millions of the best peoplethe Lord made—I’m part German myself and I know—pouring into the United States and into Brazil just because they haven’t got any German colony to go to. Don’t you know it gravels the Kaiser? Wouldn’t it gravel us? Wouldn’t we conspire and work and bluff and fight if need be to get the last piece of territory going before it was too late—But your Excellency knows all this as well as I do.”
The ambassador nodded. “Of course I know Germany needs real colonies,” he agreed. “Everybody knows that. Witness how near she came to fighting France over Morocco. Of course she’d like to have Brazil, or part of it. But she can’t have it. The Monroe Doctrine keeps her out unless she is willing to fight, and it’s too absurd to suppose that the Kaiser would deliberately go to war with the United States. Do you really think he would?” The ambassador’s tones were incredulous.
Rutile shook his head slowly. “I’m not so sure,” he declared. “What is she building all these dreadnoughts for?”
“England! Of course! At least England thinks so.”
“Of course she does! Is there anything in theworld that Britain does not take to herself? She thinks Wilhelm is aiming at her and he lets her think so. He doesn’t mind. But why on earth should he be aiming at her? What has he to gain?”
His Excellency smiled. He was enjoying himself mightily. Nothing in his experience with Rutile had led him to suspect that personage of this sort of thing. He had always looked upon the secretary merely as a perfectly trained automaton who always knew the right thing to do and did it without fuss, and he had been content to leave official business altogether in his capable hands, and to confine himself to the promotion of that cordiality between the two nations that follows a well-cooked dinner. And here was this perfectly trained automaton lecturing him like a schoolboy.
“Doesn’t she want territory?” he asked.
“Territory!” Rutile was growing excited. “Just think what Your Excellency is suggesting!” he cried. “Germany today has a fleet less than half as powerful as that of England, and it will be many a long day before she can match her. England is wailing today, not because Germany is overtaking her on the sea, but because she fears she may notbe able to remain as powerful as Germany and the second strongest sea power combined. So the result of any war that Germany may wage against England will be more than doubtful. And if she wins she will gain only worthless territory or territory settled by English. On the other hand suppose she is aiming at Brazil. In a few months she will be as strong on the sea as the United States, which alone stands between her and Brazil. Does your Excellency see no significance in a German rebellion in South Brazil aided by German officers and German filibusters?”
The ambassador smiled. “Not much, I’m afraid,” he replied, indulgently. “You are more excitable than I supposed, my dear fellow. The Emperor wants Brazil, of course; there’s nothing new in that. I’ve read a dozen newspaper stories about it. But none of them ever came true. And none ever will.”
“But—”
The ambassador rose. “What do you want me to do, Rutile?” he asked, seriously.
The secretary hesitated. “I wanted you to send a scarce-story to Washington,” he answered at last. “But I see you wouldn’t care to stand for it. So I should like permission to run down to Hamburgand see what I can learn about those shipments of arms. Mr. Cox can easily attend to my duties while I am gone. May I have your permission, sir?”
“Certainly! Certainly! Act on your best judgement. And if you can bring me any definite proof, my boy, I’ll act on it. You can rely on me.”