‘I am your man, I believe. Tell me who you are, and why you want this
job carried out, and I will undertake it. As for the money, you may
hand that over to my comrade here, as long as I know how much it is.’
This last offer turned the balance. The Swiss himself proposed that
we should come into the back shop and talk things over in confidence.
When we were all three seated together, it was the watchmaker who
gave me the long-sought explanation in a few words.
‘This man is an Abyssinian. He has come here on behalf of the Emperor
Menelik.’
‘Menelik!’ I exclaimed in astonishment. ‘What has he got to do with
us?’
‘Nothing directly; but if you have read the papers you must know that
Humbert was the moving spirit in the Abyssinian war. He made peace
after Adowa, under pressure from the Crown Prince, who told him the
dynasty was in danger. But Menelik believes that the King is secretly
preparing for a fresh attack. He is in league with the British, who
are advancing from the Sudan. The Abyssinians want to clear the
Italians out of their country altogether, and they can never do that
while Humbert is alive. That is how it stands, isn’t it?’
This last question was addressed to Menelik’s agent. The Abyssinian
answered by a smile that showed his formidable white teeth.
‘The King of Italy is the enemy of Abyssinia. The King of Italy must
die. If an Abyssinian tries to kill him, he will be suspected, and
stopped; therefore he must be killed by a European. The Negus has
sent me to find a European who will do this for money. I have been
in Italy and France, and there they told me that it was best for me
to apply to the followers of your religion, which teaches that all
kings ought to be killed. Is it not so? Therefore I come here, to the
headquarters of your sect. If one of you will accept the task, on
that day I pay him in the money of this country one thousand dollars.
On the day I hear that King Humbert is dead I pay you four thousand
dollars. Divide it how you like; that is nothing to me.’
Improbable as a fairy tale though all this sounded, I could not
resist the evidence of my own senses, which showed me the Abyssinian
envoy there in the flesh. I knew, of course, that assassination has
always been one of the recognised political methods of Asiatic and
African States, but this alliance between a half-civilised despot
and the extreme revolutionaries of Europe struck me as altogether
without precedent in the history of the world. Certainly my own
experience, fertile as it naturally had been in surprising incidents,
had never brought to light a more singular intrigue than this.
My position now became an extremely difficult one. I had practically
agreed to accept the commission to assassinate the King of Italy,
but it was not that which troubled me. I foresaw that as soon as
Menelik’s agent realised that he had been played with by me he would
endeavour to find some other and more trustworthy tool. To denounce
him to the police of New York would have been perfectly idle; in
the first place he could buy the police, and in the second place no
American court would punish a ‘political’ conspiracy, unless, indeed,
it were against the United States.
I contented myself for the moment with formally undertaking the
required murder. The Abyssinian arranged to bring the first
instalment of the blood money to the watchmaker’s house on the
following Saturday night, and we all three parted apparently on the
best of terms.
The next day I sent off a long telegraphic despatch summarising
the whole situation. The proposal I made was that the Italian
Government should cable me authority and funds to enable me to have
the Abyssinian envoy privately kidnapped, and returned to his own
country, _viâ_ Massowah.
They had the incredible folly to wire instead to their Minister in
Washington, instructing him to demand the arrest and expulsion of
Menelik’s agent.
The net result of this ill-considered action was to flood the Italian
quarter of Jersey City for several days with sham detectives, to
cause a thousand or two dollars to pass into the pockets of the
local Tammany, and to compel me to hasten my departure for Europe
on my supposed mission, in order to rebut the suspicions of the
Anarchists--and, in fact, to escape their vengeance.
The night before my departure there was a little supper at the club,
at which the four were present. No open reference was made to the
object of my journey. But after supper the half-witted Bresci, who
had been one of the party, asked leave to walk home with me.
‘I wish I were going with you,’ he said suddenly.
‘I wish I could put you in an asylum, where you would be taken care
of,’ was my thought in answer. I said aloud that I had reasons for
going alone.
‘I know those reasons,’ the enthusiast declared. ‘Let me come with
you. I am not afraid.’
For a moment I hesitated. A king’s life was in the balance, though I
did not know it.
I made the clever man’s common mistake--I underrated the strength of
the fool.
‘Take my advice,’ I said to Bresci, ‘leave this work to men like me.
You are not suited for it: you would betray yourself directly.’
His face became overcast, and he relapsed into a sullen silence which
lasted till I parted from him at my own door.
An hour before stepping on board the steamer that was to convey me
to Havre I sent off a final wire: ‘_Am leaving to-day for Europe,
pledged to kill King Humbert._’
This bitter shaft of contempt roused even the Italian police into
activity. On landing at the French port I was met by a detective sent
from Rome.
I took him with me to a hotel, where we discussed the situation in a
private room.
‘It seems to me that we are all right for the present,’ he urged. ‘As
long as they think you are going to carry out the work they are not
likely to send any one else.’
‘Do not be too sure,’ I answered. ‘There is a lame watchmaker over
there who does not quite trust me.’
‘What do you propose to do?’ asked the detective.
‘To shoot King Humbert,’ I replied.
The man gasped at me in sheer amazement.
‘I am going to put you to a practical test,’ I explained. ‘I am
going to try and discharge a blank cartridge at the King. If you can
prevent my doing so, I shall hope that his life is safe.’
‘But what do you expect us to do? We cannot arrest you.’
‘No; that is my point. You know that I am going to kill your King,
and yet the law does not permit you to interfere till you see me put
my finger to the trigger of my revolver.’
‘We can stop you at the frontier.’
‘Try,’ I said drily.
He tried. A week later I was in Rome.
In reality I did not intend to go quite so far as I had threatened.
To do so would have been offensive to his Majesty. What I desired
was to put the police thoroughly on the alert. I hoped to stimulate
them into taking precautions which would be effective against a real
assassin.
For I knew better than to think that Menelik’s envoy would go away
satisfied with having despatched me on the errand of death. I did
not believe the swarthy figure with the formidable white teeth would
leave New York till he had received some certain assurance of the
success of his murderous plans.
Before leaving the United States I had arranged with my old
employers, Pinkerton’s, to have a watch kept on all outward-bound
vessels, so that I might receive the earliest information of any
move on the part of the Abyssinian. I had supplied them with a full
description of the man.
Meanwhile the Italian police did their best, hampered as they were
by the King’s chivalrous disregard of danger, and his dislike of
surveillance. It is not an easy thing to guard a monarch against his
will.
As soon as I had satisfied myself that my disguise as an Italian
workman was impenetrable, I went northward after the doomed King.
As my train rolled into the station at Turin, I caught a glimpse on
the platform of a white face with long draggled hair and a haunted
expression in the eyes--a face that I had last seen in a Jersey City
slum at midnight, more than a month ago.
Long before the train stopped I had leapt out of my compartment in
hot pursuit; but Bresci had disappeared.
I went instantly to the chief police-officer in Turin and gave
information. Detectives were despatched in all directions to search
the city; but it was too late.
The following morning a telegram was put into my hands before I got
out of bed. It was from Pinkerton’s, and contained these words: ‘_Man
answering description has just booked passage to Liverpool._’
This despatch convinced me that the situation was desperate. Coupling
the news with the sight of the evening before, I could not doubt that
the Abyssinian agent expected to hear within the next few hours that
his dreadful end was achieved.
I dressed in feverish haste and rushed round to the police-office,
only to learn that no arrest had been made, and Bresci was still at
large.
‘Unless that man is apprehended within the next twenty-four hours,
King Humbert will have ceased to live,’ I told the astonished chief
of police.
In this extremity I decided to proceed to Monza, see the King myself,
and implore him not to stir abroad until Bresci’s capture was
notified. That afternoon, as I entered the small town of Monza, I was
arrested on suspicion!
It was in vain that I protested, warned, and threatened. My demand
to be carried before King Humbert was regarded as a proof of guilt.
My disclosure of my identity was suspected as a ruse. I was confined
in a cell while telegrams were being exchanged with my friend the
Italian detective, and with my secretary in Paris.
Suddenly, as I tramped impatiently up and down within my narrow
bounds, I was aware of a terrible commotion outside. Men ran past the
door of my prison, curses and cries were heard, and there was a sound
of bayonets being fixed. Maddened by the nervous tension, I battered
with my manacled hands against the cell door.
[Illustration: “‘You are free,’ he said briefly. ‘The right man has
been arrested, too late.’”]
It was flung open from without, and an armed warder faced me.
‘You are free,’ he said briefly. ‘The right man has been
arrested--too late.’