CHAPTER XXIII

THE TWO-WHEELED MYSTERY

The Secretary came in with a very grave face one morning after having

had a long talk with the German Chancellor.

“Do you know, Jack,” he said, “I think the German Government intends

to declare war on us, and I would not be a bit surprised if she

proposes to strike first and declare afterwards. Their newspapers,

and they are all inspired by the Government, you know, are working

up a strong anti-American feeling, and this I think is done in order

that when they do strike the Government may have the entire country

back of it. Have you noticed, too, that they are constantly increasing

the guard around the Embassy, which is either to save us or to catch

us? Is it possible that your nonsense has got anything to do with all

this? By Jove, Jack, I think it is about time that you told me what

you are up to.”

Edestone considered for a moment. “When you tell me that you are

absolutely certain that they are going to strike, I will tell you,

William, and not before. You know enough now, however, to realize that

those soldiers outside are to catch and not protect. It is me that they

want, though, and not you. Your position is perfectly safe and

unassailable so long as you do not know too much.”

That ended the discussion for the time, but Lawrence came in one night

in a state of great excitement. He had just seen some woman who, he

rather intimated, was a little bit fond of him, and who was also very

closely connected with certain high officials. She had told him, he

said, apparently joking although he knew she was in earnest, that she

hoped her pretty boy would not mix up with this man Edestone, or he

might get into trouble too.

“‘They are only allowing us to stay in Berlin,’ she said, ‘until they

get you, Jack,’” declared Lawrence, “and then we will have to go, the

whole lot of us.”

In the meantime things were going from bad to worse. The Secretary was

getting more and more anxious. Reports of all kinds kept coming in from

all sides. Americans were being insulted in the street. The officers at

the clubs were a little more arrogant in their studied politeness

toward Edestone and his associates, the younger officers even taunting

Lawrence with having to leave his girl in Berlin and go back to

cow-punching.

Finally one of the papers reported that the entire American fleet was

collecting at Hampton Roads, that all the German boats in New York had

been dismantled by force, and broadly suggested that the Yankees were

about to strike first and apologize afterward.

However, there came a slight rift in the clouds. Coming back one

morning after a conference with the Chancellor, Jones was all smiles.

“Well, we are all right for a little while at least,” he announced.

“The Chancellor has just informed me that the Emperor has decided to

see you, Edestone, and he wishes to inspect here, at the Embassy,

anything that you may like to show him. The Chancellor intimated that

it would depend entirely upon your attitude on this occasion whether or

not your mission to Europe was a failure or a brilliant success.”

“And when is he coming?” asked Edestone quickly.

Jones grinned. “With his usual impetuosity, he has selected tonight,

and will pay the Embassy a formal call at nine o’clock, after the

celebration at the Palace in honour of the birthday of one of the Royal

princes.”

Edestone was delighted with the prospect of some action at last, but he

had long since lost all hope of an amicable settlement. They had waited

too long. He felt that they were preparing to strike, and should they

do so it made him sick to think of the awful consequences. He was

almost tempted to tell Jones of the wireless instrument in the

penthouse and his daily communications with “Specs,” but he remembered

that he had no right to involve him as a representative of the United

States, and that, as the matter stood, he and Lawrence were the only

culprits.

He did not care to destroy the roseate hopes of the Secretary after his

conference with the Chancellor, and contented himself with saying:

“William, I hope that you are right, but I have an impression that we

are in for it. I am prepared to meet any game that they may play, but I

do sincerely hope that I shall not be forced to it.”

By seven o’clock that evening the streets for blocks around the Embassy

were filled with soldiers, and Edestone smiled when looking from the

window he noticed that the Germans were bringing up anti-aircraft guns.

“They are taking no chances,” he thought to himself, his curiosity

aroused as he noticed several large mortars being brought up and

so placed that each battery of four could throw their shells in

parallel lines over the Embassy to the north, south, east, and west.

This struck him as very strange, but he became even more interested

when he perceived that besides the ordinary ammunition wagon each gun

was provided with a trailer that looked like a big wheel or drum on a

two-wheeled carriage, although it was so carefully covered over that

he could not make out exactly what it was.

“I have got to find out what those things are,” said Edestone to

himself, and taking his hat and cane, he left the Embassy as if for a

short stroll before dinner.

The soldiers took no notice of him as he sauntered along, and allowed him

to inspect everything at his will until he approached the strange-looking

mortars. Then he was stopped by a young officer, who told him in a very

polite but firm tone that he would have to pass on and could not go by

that way, at the same time showing him where he could walk around the

block.

“I would give a good deal to know what those things are,” muttered

Edestone to himself. “In fact, I must know before the night is over.”

He went back into the house, after strolling about for a quarter of an

hour, and for the first time since he had left the Little Place in the

Country, he became really anxious.

“These are wonderful people. They evidently are satisfied now that they

have the answer, and who knows but they may have. All may yet be lost.”

He sat down and drove his brain as he had never driven it before. He

wondered if he could get the Secretary to demand what all this

preparation meant, and what these new death-dealing instruments might

be that were threatening the Embassy of the United States; but that was

useless, he knew. They would reply that it was to protect the Emperor,

or would simply refuse to answer, or answering would lie.

After waiting until it was time to dress for dinner, in a fit of

desperation he sent for Lawrence.

“Lawrence,” he said, “have you seen those mortars out there?”

“Yes,” replied Lawrence, “I did. They take no chances with the ‘Big

Noise.’”

“Don’t joke, Lawrence. This is serious; very serious. Did you notice

those two-wheeled wagons that are so carefully covered with canvas just

behind each of the mortars?”

“No, to tell you the truth, I did not. They have so many travelling

soup wagons and ice plants that I don’t pay any attention to those

things any more.”

“Well, Lawrence, I’ve got to know what they are tonight in order that I

may be prepared; otherwise we may find ourselves in a very serious

situation, and what is much more important, my whole life’s work may be

absolutely lost.”

“Now, since you put it that way,” said Lawrence with a broad grin, “I

will step out and in my most polite Deutsch inquire.”

“They will not let you get within a block of them. Do you think it will

be possible to persuade one of the German servants to find out from the

soldiers? I would pay any price.”

“Well, I will dress myself like the cook and go out and flirt with one

of the soldiers for $2. I’m a little badly off for money myself just

about this time.”

“Lawrence, you must stop joking. I tell you, something must be done.”

“Leave me think, leave me think,” said the irrepressible.

“_Donnerwetter_, I have it! What time does the Hohenzollern Glee Club

arrive?”

“At nine o’clock.”

“And you come on immediately after the ‘First Part,’ succeeding which I

suppose Lohengrin will sing his Duck Ditty, while the Boy Scout,

dressed as Uncle Tom’s Cabin, after biting the triggers off all the

guns, and pulling his wig well down over his eyes”--imitating the

action--“will sally forth into the limpid limelights, and after he has

been shot once in the face by a 16-inch howitzer and has been played

upon in the rear by a battery of machine guns, he will limp on with the

regular limp of the old Virginia servant and die at your feet, but not

until I have whispered their secret into the heel of your boot.”

Edestone had known Lawrence long enough to understand that all of this

nonsense meant that his really bright mind was working, and that he had

some definite plan in view. The best way to handle him, he had found

out, was to let his exuberance of spirit have free swing, so he replied

in the same melodramatic manner: “Good, my faithful District Messenger

Boy. Now in what way can I assist you in your wonderful scheme?”

“Leave all to me, Lord Reginald Bolingbroke, and before the clock on

yon ‘back drop’ strikes eight bells, you will know what is hidden

beneath these veils of mystery.”

“I can depend upon you,” Edestone eyed him searchingly, “and no

mistake?”

“On the life of me mother who lies dead beneath the sacred soil of dear

old Idaho!” With a wave of an imaginary sword, and jumping astride an

imaginary stick horse, he saluted and galloped from the room, singing

“It’s a Long Way to Tipperary.”

“I wonder what that dare-devil is up to,” thought Edestone.

Nevertheless he believed that Lawrence would accomplish his purpose.

Presently his attention was attracted by the beams of a searchlight

crossing the window, and looking out he saw those great white arms

stretching up from every part of the city.

“They expect me to show my teeth tonight,” he said.

The distant tapping of drums showed that troops were moving in all

parts of Berlin, and they were beginning to form in the streets below.

It was easy to see by which route the Emperor was coming, or at least

by which route he wished the people to think he was going to arrive.

Edestone dressed hurriedly, although James seemed to think that

something extra should be done.

“Beg pardon, sir,” he pleaded in an accent which would have meant

imprisonment for him if heard on the streets outside, “but these here

barbarians likes a bit of colour, sir. I understands as how the Emperor

calls the Ambassador the ‘undertaker,’ sir, and it’s all on account,

sir, of his not a-having any lace on his coat, sir. Don’t you think you

might wear some of your Colonial Society medals and decorations, sir?”

and he tried hard to hide his contempt for these American signs of

alleged aristocracy. “There is some as is bright in colour, sir, and he

wouldn’t know, sir, but as how you is a duke in America, sir.”

“None of that nonsense, James, unless,” he said with a quizzical look,

“you give me the copy of the Golden Fleece, which shows that I am a

member in good standing of the South Chicago Aero Club.”

“Not that one, sir,” protested James, “if you will pardon me, sir, I

think it is a bit large, sir, for the waistcoat opening, sir. I think,

sir, that the Order of the Cincinnati is very neat, sir. It is very

much like one of the Greek Orders, I don’t recall which, sir, but Lord

Knott wore it once, I recall, sir, when the King of Greece was in

London, sir.”

“No, James,” Edestone shook his head. “My father was a blacksmith, and

I would not like to deceive the Emperor.”

“How you do like your little joke, sir,” said James, putting his hand

to his mouth. “Won’t you just use that button, sir, instead of a

buttonhole? It ain’t so frivolous like, sir, begging your pardon, sir.”

“Oh well, yes; just to keep you quiet.”

“Thank you, sir.”

And Edestone left the room.

L.P.M. : The End of the Great War · 第 23 / 36 章