‘My dear Finkelstein, I see that you are not changed.’
The Director’s consternation was quite laughable to witness.
‘V----!’ he exclaimed, drawing back as if he had been stung; then he
added, in a tone of hesitation: ‘My old friend?’
‘Yes; your friend--and your ally, if you will accept him as such,’ I
said cordially.
Finkelstein looked immensely relieved. He was well aware that the
Kaiser did not accord him his complete confidence, and he must have
feared that I had come to him, as on a former occasion, as the
Kaiser’s agent.
‘My dear V----, any friendship and assistance that I can give you are
at your service at all times,’ he hastened to assure me.
‘It is understood, then, is it not, that we are to stand by each
other? If I undertake to report favourably of you in a certain
quarter, you will give me your confidence?’
‘That is always understood between Secret Service agents who are men
of honour,’ the German responded.
We shook hands with great warmth.
‘Now,’ I said, ‘I can afford to be perfectly frank.’
Finkelstein glanced at me with the suspicion which such a declaration
was certain to provoke.
‘I am here, this time, in the interests of Russia.’
The Director met my eye with a look of polite incredulity.
[Illustration: “‘V----!’ he exclaimed, drawing back as if he had been
stung.”]
‘Distrust has been awakened in the Russian Council of State by
this Venezuelan affair, in which Germany has been much too friendly
with England. It is necessary to ascertain exactly what the Kaiser’s
views and intentions really are. He is either deceiving the Tsar, or
deceiving the English, and I have to find out which. For this purpose
I must pass a night in the Emperor’s private cabinet.’
‘But surely that is not a difficult thing for you to manage,’
observed Finkelstein, with evident distrust. ‘His Majesty trusts you
implicitly, does he not?’
‘He may trust me as a spy on you, and yet not confide to me his
political designs,’ I answered. ‘The truth is that the Kaiser is
on his guard. He knows that he is being watched, and just now he
distrusts everybody--his own police most of all,’ I added pointedly.
The Director put his hand to his head, with a gesture of despair.
‘It comes to this,’ he cried pathetically, ‘that unless I betray him
you will report to him that I am a traitor!’
‘You should have thought of that before you accepted the money of the
Duke of Heligoland,’ I retorted, naming the Royal exile referred to
above.
The German sighed, and hung his head.
‘The Russian Government is not less wealthy than the Order of
Assumptionists,’ I added.
Finkelstein brightened up again. A man of such mercurial temperament
was most unfit for his position.
As soon as it became a question of terms between us I knew that the
battle was won. The German really hated and feared Russia, like all
his countrymen, and had it been prudent to do so, I should have been
glad to relieve his mind.
It was an easy matter for him to make the required arrangements. A
hint to the commander of the regiment which supplied the Palace guard
that some theft had taken place, and that a detective’s presence was
necessary, was sufficient. At the hour of eleven, the Kaiser’s time
for retiring, I found myself in the uniform of a Prussian soldier,
pacing the corridor which gave access to his Majesty’s cabinet.
Secured from suspicion by the character in which I had entered the
Palace, I lost no time in unlocking the door of the room by means
of a key invented by myself. I must be excused from describing its
mechanism in these pages; but the only lock against which it is
powerless is the familiar letter padlock.
As soon as I was inside I closed the door again. I did not venture
to turn on the electric light, but made use of a dark lantern I had
brought with me, to explore the chamber.
In front of me stood his Majesty’s writing-table, covered with
despatch boxes. I considered it useless to open them, and turned my
eyes round the room in search of some more secret receptacle.
At first no sign of anything of the kind I sought was visible. There
were cupboards, but they were not even locked. The walls were hung
with maps, among which my eye was particularly caught by a chart of
the world on Mercator’s projection, on which the various possessions
of Great Britain were indicated by small red flags attached to pins.
It seemed to me an ominous thing that such a map, so marked, should
be ever before the eyes of the ablest Continental ruler, who was
known to be feverishly at work building a navy fit to contend with
that of England.
In a reflective mood I stepped towards the map and looked at it. The
flag which marked New Zealand had sagged down slightly, as though
less firmly thrust in than the rest. Without stopping to think what I
was doing, I took hold of the pin and pressed it into the wall.
To my surprise I felt a resistance which at once accounted for the
loose position in which I had found the flag. I removed one of the
other pins, and found it went into the wall without any difficulty.
It was therefore clear that at the particular part of the wall
covered by New Zealand there existed some obstacle, probably of a
metallic nature.
Once convinced of this, I had no doubt as to my next step. I drew
out the whole of the pins in the eastern portion of the chart, and
rolled it back.
I was rewarded by the sight of a dark round patch on the wall-paper,
beneath which I could detect the presence of a metallic disk or knob.
I pressed it boldly, and a square section of the wall opened out on
a hinge, revealing a small cupboard, secured by a black seal showing
the impress of the Emperor’s signet, with which I was sufficiently
familiar.
This discovery placed me in an awkward position. There was no time
for me to counterfeit the seal, and if I broke it, it was evident
that Wilhelm II. must know that his hiding-place had been tampered
with.
The prudence I had shown in dealing with Finkelstein was now
invaluable to me. At the worst the Kaiser would learn that his
secrets were in the hands of a Russian spy, and my real employer
would be unknown. It was this reflection which emboldened me to
proceed.
I broke the seal, opened the cupboard, and found a pile of papers
which I took to the writing-table to look through.
The papers were enclosed in what is styled in Government Departments
a ‘jacket’--a large sheet of paper folded to form a cover. The
outside of this jacket was endorsed in the Kaiser’s well-known
hand--‘_European Zollverein_.’
[Illustration: “‘Arrest that man!’ the Kaiser commanded, without
giving him time to speak.”]
Those words told me all. The daring brain of Wilhelm II. had revived
the idea which the great Napoleon embodied in his famous Milan
Decrees. The whole of the Powers of the Continent were to be united
in a Customs League against Great Britain.
Russia and Austria, I saw, had eagerly welcomed the proposal. Spain
and Turkey, with the Balkan States, were also committed to it. So
were Belgium and Holland, the first in revenge for British criticism
of the Congo Free State, the second on account of the Boer War.
Sweden and Denmark were evidently disinclined to the scheme, but
unable to resist the pressure put upon them. Only three countries
still held out firmly--France, Italy, and Portugal.
The opposition of France seemed to be due partly to the fact that
Great Britain was her largest customer, and partly to dislike of any
proposal coming from Germany. Italy and Portugal seemed to realise
that their own fate was bound up with that of England, and to view
with dread the prospect of weakening the British power.
I had just finished reading the spirited protest of little Portugal,
contained in a private autograph letter from Dom Carlos to the German
Emperor, when the room was suddenly flashed with the full glare of
the electric light. I looked up and saw his Majesty standing before
me, in full uniform, with his sword drawn in his hand.
I had reckoned without Wilhelm II. when I undertook my perilous
enterprise. The colonel of the guard, it appeared, had reported
that a detective had been admitted into the Palace by Finkelstein’s
request. The Kaiser had thought little of the matter at first, but
later on his curiosity had become too strong for him, and he had
decided to find out for himself what was going on.
I confess that for the first and only time in my life I turned cold
with fear, as the sudden apparition of the armed Emperor burst on my
startled consciousness.
‘Arrest that man!’ he commanded, without giving me time to speak.
Two soldiers advanced from the corridor and pinioned me by the arms.
Then the Kaiser himself stepped forward, seized the papers I had been
studying, and thrust them into his breast.
‘Order a firing-party with ball cartridges to get ready in the inner
courtyard,’ was the next command.
All this time it was evident that the Kaiser had not recognised me.
Indeed, my disguise was so perfect that I felt quite secure on that
head. The question was whether it would make matters worse or better
for me if I revealed my identity.
‘Now,’ his Majesty demanded, turning to me, ‘who are you, and what
are you doing here?’
[Illustration: “‘Now,’ said the Kaiser, stepping close to my side,
‘tell me the truth--the real truth, mind--and I will spare your
life.’”]
‘Does your Majesty wish me to speak before these men?’
The Kaiser hesitated.
‘Yes,’ he said at last; ‘speak out.’