ALL CARDS ON THE TABLE
The royal party had scarcely gotten out of the house and Edestone and
Jones were still standing in the middle of the reception room when the
return of General von Lichtenstein was announced.
The old General came in as quietly as if nothing had happened. He
greeted the Secretary cordially and smiled benignly at Edestone.
“Young man,” he said, “you needed my old head on your young shoulders
badly tonight. I have returned to have a talk with the Acting
Ambassador, and I think that if he can prevail upon you to be
reasonable I may be able to settle this little difficulty between you
and His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor. If you will only lead us into
some smaller room, Mr. Secretary, we can sit down and over our cigars
discuss this matter quietly.”
“I am sorry that my machine--” began Edestone, but he was quickly
interrupted by the General.
“Tut, tut, that is nothing at all. That was simply two young men losing
their tempers, and ought to be soon settled. One being an Emperor makes
it a little more difficult, I will admit, but I have seen Emperors
angry before and they are just like any of us. They cool off when they
realize that they have,” and he lowered his voice with a quizzical
look, “been a little bit foolish.”
When they were all comfortably seated around the table in the library
of the Embassy, and the General and Edestone had lighted cigars, while
Jones, who never smoked, looked on, the old General, statesman,
philosopher, and writer opened the conversation.
“We have now come to the last hand in this game which we have been
playing,” he said, “and I think it would be just as well for all cards
to be laid on the table.”
Edestone looked at him in surprise, for instead of the simple, smiling
old gentleman, with the soft gentle voice and fatherly manner, he saw a
crafty, dangerous, and determined man of steel. His voice was cold and
harsh, his winning smile had gone. He had come to fight and to fight
desperately to the finish.
“In the first place,” he continued, “we do not know exactly what is the
relationship between you,” looking at Edestone, “and the United States
of America,” with a wave of his hand toward Jones, “and as there can
now be no reason for further concealment, since we are virtually on the
verge of a declaration of war--a step which I am here to prevent if
possible--I will say that it makes no difference to His Imperial
Majesty’s Government what that relationship may be, so long as Germany
gets the use of Mr. Edestone’s invention. But we will declare war upon
the United States tomorrow night unless we get an assurance from you
that we shall have the exclusive right to the one and only flying
machine in which this invention has been installed.”
At this Jones looked over at Edestone with a glance of inquiry.
“Yes,” said Edestone in answer to this, “there is only one.”
“Germany understands, of course,” proceeded the General, “that the
United States will construct others, but so will Germany. Germany is
willing and prepared to pay well for this, although she knows that by
holding Mr. Edestone she controls this machine and could have it
without paying for it. We admit that we do not know where it is, but we
are confident that Mr. Edestone does,”--he turned upon Edestone the
look of a wild beast who has his prey and loves to torture it,--“and we
intend that he shall communicate with the commander and see that this
ship is sent to some place where we can take possession of it.”
And then with a grim smile he leaned forward on the table, looking
first at the Secretary and then at Edestone.
“You are both virtually prisoners in this Embassy,” he said. “That is
my hand.”
“Then we are now at war,” said the Secretary with a quiet smile.
“No,” replied the General, “it has not come to that yet. And it does
not necessarily have to come to that. We should be able to arrange this
matter here tonight. As I have said, Germany will pay well. She is
willing to start on even terms with the United States, who can build
just as fast as we can. Germany will bring this war to an end within a
week, and then she and the United States can come to an agreement as to
how they will divide up the rest of the earth.”
Edestone smiled and made no answer.
The Secretary said: “I can do nothing until I have communicated with my
Government.”
“I am sorry,” said the General impatiently, “but we cannot wait until
we get an answer from your very slow and inefficient State Department.
We must have a reply before tomorrow night at 12 o’clock. Have you
nothing to say, Mr. Edestone? You are perhaps personally the most
deeply interested, because I tell you,” he grinned cruelly, “we will
get your secret if we have to put you on the rack and go back five
centuries in the eyes of the rest of the world, should it be necessary
to do that in order to give it the blessings that can only be gotten
under German rule. I ask you again, have you nothing to say?”
“Nothing, General,” replied Edestone.
He was slowly blowing rings of smoke, seeming almost to fascinate the
General, who would often stop speaking to follow them with his eyes
until they broke or were lost in the darkness in the corners of the
room. This was an old trick of his to divert the attention of his
adversary, therein improving on Bismarck who always used his cigar to
gain time when driven to a corner.
“That is your final answer?” said the General.
“My final answer,” Edestone bowed.
“And you, Mr. Secretary?”
“I am but the mouthpiece of my Government, and she has not spoken yet.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said the General rising, “I think we understand each
other.”
“I think so,” replied Edestone. “Good-night, sir.”
The Secretary accompanied the visitor out into the hall, leaving
Edestone, who as soon as he was alone rang for a servant and sent for
Lawrence. In the meantime he just had opportunity to glance at the note
which General von Lichtenstein had given him. It was a mere scrap of
writing asking him to come to the Princess Wilhelmina immediately after
the departure of His Imperial Majesty.
When Lawrence came in he hastily slipped this into his pocket.
“Lawrence,” he said, “I want you to send a message for me as soon as
Jones has given his consent. I will ask him in regard to it as soon as
he returns, so you had better wait and hear what he has to say.”
A moment later the Secretary came into the room with a very worried
expression on his face. “Edestone,” he said impressively, “this
undoubtedly means war.”
“And if so,” rejoined Edestone, “we will win.”
He then explained to Jones how he was in daily communication with
“Specs” and was now only waiting for the Secretary’s consent to send
for him and he could have him over Berlin in seven hours. He also
explained to him about the instrument that was in the penthouse on the
roof of the Embassy.
“But what do you propose to do, Jack?” frowned the Secretary. “Do you
intend to fight these people single-handed and thereby drag your
country into a cruel and disastrous war? That seems to me to be
unnecessary.”
“No, I propose to save you and the members of the Embassy from a very
disagreeable experience and from what may develop into a very dangerous
situation; for I am convinced that these Germans will not hesitate to
fire upon the Embassy if you do not deliver me up to them. The only
hope of stopping war without loss of life is through me and my
invention. I therefore ask your permission to send the following
message,” and he handed the Secretary a scrap of paper upon which he
had written:
“Be exactly over American Embassy Berlin tomorrow night at nine
o’clock. Take station at 5000 feet and there await instructions.
“E.”
The Secretary took the paper and read it through twice very slowly.
“I fear,” he said with a sigh, “that is the only way.”