Possession of those ancient jewels which, with reluctance, Abdul Hamid
had brought out from his treasury, was one of the Kaiser's greatest
secrets, a secret of Potsdam known to no more than three people,
including myself. The Emperor had specially imposed silence upon me,
because he did not wish the Powers to suspect his true Eastern policy of
bribery and double-dealing, blackmail and plunder.
And yet she, the daughter of a French diplomat, knew the truth!
Instantly I realized the serious danger of the secret being betrayed to
France.
"Madame," I said, leaning against the writing-table as I spoke in
deepest earnestness. "If I may be permitted, I would urge that the
Emperor's diplomacy neither concerns your husband, as an official, nor
yourself. It is his own private affair, and should neither be discussed
nor betrayed."
"I know," she said. "That is just why I have ventured to come here to
consult you, M'sieur! You have been my good friend as well as my
husband's, and here to-day, while the Emperor is our guest beneath our
roof, I feel that I am in greatest peril!"
"Why?" I asked with considerable surprise.
"The Emperor has already learnt that I know the truth regarding his
secret," was her slow reply. "By what means His Majesty has discovered
it, I, alas! know not. But I do know from a confidential quarter that I
have incurred the Emperor's gravest displeasure and hatred."
"Who is your informant?" I inquired sternly, eager to further
investigate the great intrigue.
"A certain person who must be nameless."
"Have you spoken to anybody of the Emperor's secret plans in Turkey, or
of his possession of the Empress Catherine's jewels?"
"I have not uttered a word to a single soul except my husband. I swear
it."
"Your husband was extremely indiscreet in revealing anything," I
declared again quite frankly.
"I fully admit that. But what can I do? How shall I act?" she asked in a
low, tense voice. "Advise me, do."
For some moments I remained silent. The situation, with a pretty woman
seeking my aid in such circumstances, was difficult.
"Well, Madame," I replied after reflection, "if you are really ready to
promise the strictest secrecy and leave the matter to me, I will
endeavour to find a way out of the difficulty--providing you--good
German that you are by marriage--will take, before the Emperor himself,
an oath of complete secrecy?"
"I am ready to do anything--anything for my dear husband's sake," the
handsome young woman assured me, tears welling in her fine dark eyes.
"In that case, then, please leave the matter entirely in my hands," I
said. And later on she left.
That same night, about ten o'clock, the Emperor, in the dark-green
uniform which he always wears at dinner after hunting or shooting,
entered the room to which I had just returned to work.
"Send Frau Kleist to me," he snapped. "And I will summon you later when
I want you, Heltzendorff."
Frau Kleist! I had no idea the woman had arrived at the castle. But I
dispatched one of the servants to search for her, and afterwards heard
her high-pitched voice as she ascended the stairs to hold secret and, no
doubt, evil counsel with His Majesty.
Below I found the fat, fair-haired little doctor from Augsburg, who was
still an enigma, but eager to see his Imperial patient, and with him I
smoked a cigarette to while away the time. I was anxious to return to
His Majesty, and, as became my duty as his adjutant, to explain what I
had learnt from the lips of our French hostess.
Suddenly one of the Imperial flunkeys bowed at the door, commanding the
doctor to the Royal presence, and he left me, hot and flurried, as all
become who are unused to the Court atmosphere, its rigid etiquette, and
its constant bows.
Had the Emperor called the unknown doctor into consultation with Frau
Kleist?
Inquiries I had made concerning the doctor from Augsburg showed that he
was quite a well-known specialist on mental diseases, and he had also
written a text-book upon bacteriology and the brain. Why had the Kaiser
summoned him? He required no brain specialist.
"We leave to-morrow at noon," the Emperor exclaimed brusquely when, an
hour later, I was summoned to his room. This amazed me, for our
arrangements were to remain three days longer. I recollected Madame
Reitschel's words.
"I do not feel at all well," His Majesty added, "and this Dr. Vollerthun
orders me rest at Potsdam."
In silence I bowed, and then ventured to refer to what was uppermost in
my mind.
"May I be permitted to speak to your Majesty upon a certain confidential
subject?" I begged, standing against the table whereat I had been
writing the greater part of that day.
"What subject?" snapped the All-Highest.
"Your Majesty's negotiations with the Sultan of Turkey. Frau Reitschel
has learnt of them, but she is eager to come before you and take oath of
entire secrecy."
The Kaiser's eyes narrowed and glowed in sudden anger.
"A woman's oath!" he cried. "Bah! Never have I believed in silence
imposed upon any woman's tongue--more especially that of a born enemy! I
appreciate your loyalty and acumen, Von Heltzendorff, but I have,
fortunately, known this for some little time, and in strictest secrecy
have taken certain measures to combat it. Remember that these words have
never been uttered to you! Remember that! You are adjutant, and I am
Emperor. Understand! I fully appreciate and note your loyal report, but
it is not woman's sphere to enter our diplomacy, except as a secret
agent of our Fatherland. Let us say no more."
Ten minutes later, being dismissed, I wandered back through the great,
silent, echoing corridors of the ancient castle to my own room. A great
human drama, greater than any ever placed upon the stage, was now being
enacted. Throwing his loaded dice, the Emperor, with all his craft,
cunning, and criminal unscrupulousness behind his mask of Christianity,
and aided by his unprincipled son, the Crown-Prince, was actually
plotting the downfall of the Turkish Empire and the overthrow of Islam
in Europe. Between the All-Highest One and the realization of those
dastardly plans for world-power so carefully and cleverly thought out in
every detail night after night in the silence of that dull, faded green
room upstairs at Potsdam, stood one frail little Parisienne, the
vivacious, well-meaning Madame Reitschel!
Next day we left the Schloss Langenberg, but before doing so we heard
with regret that our charming little hostess had been suddenly taken ill
during the night, and the Kaiser, as a mark of favour, had ordered his
doctor, Vollerthun, to remain behind to attend her. That Herr Reitschel
was in great distress I saw from his face as he stood taking leave of
his Imperial guest on the little platform at Ilmenau.
Back in Berlin, I wondered what was in progress in that far-off Schloss
in Thuringia, but a week later the truth became vividly apparent when I
read in the _Staats-Anzeiger_ an announcement which disclosed to me the
terrible truth.