Produced by Donald Lainson
THE COMING CONQUEST OF ENGLAND
by August Niemann
Translated by J. H. Freese
CONTENTS
I. THE COUNCIL OF STATE
II. THE OFFICERS’ MESS
III. A RUSSIAN COMRADE
IV. THE CIRCASSIAN BEAUTY
V. THE CAPTAIN’S WIFE
VI. THE OUTRAGE
VII. THE MAHARAJAH
VIII. THE PAMIRS
IX. THE GERMAN EMPEROR
X. FIVE LAKHS OF RUPEES
XI. THE MOBILISATION
XII. THE CAMP OF LAHORE
XIII. THE BATTLE
XIV. IN THE PANIC-STRICKEN CITY
XV. THE COURT-MARTIAL
XVI. THE PROFESSOR
XVII. DOWNING STREET
XVIII. THE YOUNG RUSSIAN CAPTAIN OF DRAGOONS
XIX. ON THE ROAD TO SIMLA
XX. A FRIEND IN NEED
XXI. EDITH’S ADVENTURES
XXII. THE ETHICS OF ESPIONAGE
XXIII. HOMEWARD BOUND
XXIV. THE ADVENTURES OF THE CALEDONIA
XXV. A SUSPICIOUS FISHING-SMACK
XXVI. CAMILLE PENUROT
XXVII. EBERHARD AMELUNGEN
XXVIII. THE FATE OF A SPY
XXIX. A WOMAN’S TREACHERY
XXX. EDITH’S LAST JOURNEY
XXXI. THE STOLEN DOCUMENT
XXXII. NEWS OF AN OLD FRIEND
XXXIII. THE LANDING IN SCOTLAND
XXXIV. THE BATTLE OF FLUSHING
XXXV. AT HAMPTON COURT
AUTHOR’S PREFACE
I recall to mind a British colonel, who said to me in Calcutta: “This is
the third time that I have been sent to India. Twenty-five years ago, as
lieutenant, and then the Russians were some fifteen hundred miles from
the Indian frontier; then, six years since, as captain, and the Russians
were then only five hundred miles away. A year ago I came here as
lieutenant-colonel, and the Russians are right up to the passes leading
to India.”
The map of the world unfolds itself before me. All seas are ploughed
by the keels of English vessels, all coasts dotted with the coaling
stations and fortresses of the British world-power. In England is vested
the dominion of the globe, and England will retain it; she cannot permit
the Russian monster to drink life and mobility from the sea.
“Without England’s permission no shot can be fired on the ocean,” once
said William Pitt, England’s greatest statesman. For many, many
years England has increased her lead, owing to dissensions among the
continental Powers. Almost all wars have, for centuries past, been
waged in the interests of England, and almost all have been incited
by England. Only when Bismarck’s genius presided over Germany did the
German Michael become conscious of his own strength, and wage his own
wars.
Are things to come to this pass, that Germany is to crave of England’s
bounty--her air and light, and her very daily bread? or does their
ancient vigour no longer animate Michael’s arms?
Shall the three Powers who, after Japan’s victory over China, joined
hands in the treaty of Shimonoseki, in order to thwart England’s aims,
shall they--Germany, France, and Russia--still fold their hands, or
shall they not rather mutually join them in a common cause?
In my mind’s eye I see the armies and the fleets of Germany, France, and
Russia moving together against the common enemy, who with his polypus
arms enfolds the globe. The iron onslaught of the three allied Powers
will free the whole of Europe from England’s tight embrace. The great
war lies in the lap of the future.
The story that I shall portray in the following pages is not a chapter
of the world’s past history; it is the picture as it clearly developed
itself to my mind’s eye, on the publication of the first despatch of the
Viceroy Alexieff to the Tsar of Russia. And, simultaneously like a flash
of lightning, the telegram which the Emperor William sent to the Boers
after Jameson’s Raid crosses my memory--that telegram which aroused in
the heart of the German nation such an abiding echo. I gaze into the
picture, and am mindful of the duties and aims of our German nation. My
dreams, the dreams of a German, show me the war that is to be, and
the victory of the three great allied nations. Germany, France, and
Russia--and a new division of the possessions of the earth as the final
aim and object of this gigantic universal war.
THE AUTHOR.
TRANSLATOR’S NOTE
This volume is the authorised translation of Der Weltkrieg deutsche
Traume (F. W. Vobach and Co., Leipsic). The translator offers no comment
on the day-dream which he reproduces in the English language for English
readers. The meaning and the moral should be obvious and valuable.
LONDON, September, 1904.
THE COMING CONQUEST OF ENGLAND
I
THE COUNCIL OF STATE
It was a brilliant assemblage of high dignitaries and military officers
that had gathered in the Imperial Winter Palace at St. Petersburg. Of
the influential personages, who, by reason of their official position
or their personal relations to the ruling house, were summoned to advise
and determine the destiny of the Tsar’s Empire, scarcely one was absent.
But it was no festal occasion that had called them here; for all faces
wore an expression of deep seriousness, amounting in certain cases to
one of grave anxiety. The conversation, carried on in undertones, was of
matters of the gravest import.
The broad folding-doors facing the lifesize portrait of the reigning
Tsar were thrown wide open, and amid the breathless silence of all
assembled, the grey-headed President of the Imperial Council, Grand Duke
Michael, entered the hall. Two other members of the Imperial house, the
Grand Dukes Vladimir Alexandrovitch and Alexis Alexandrovitch, brothers
of the late Tsar, accompanied him.
The princes graciously acknowledged the deep obeisances of all present.
At a sign from the Grand Duke Michael, the whole company took their
places at the long conference table, covered with green cloth, which
stood in the centre of the pillared hall. Deep, respectful silence still
continued, until, at a sign from the President, State Secretary Witte,
the chief of the ministerial council, turned to the Grand Dukes and
began thus:--
“Your Imperial Highnesses and Gentlemen! Your Imperial Highness has
summoned us to an urgent meeting, and has commissioned me to lay before
you the reasons for, and the purpose of, our deliberations. We are all
aware that His Majesty the Emperor, our gracious Lord and Master, has
declared the preservation of the peace of the world to be the highest
aim of his policy. The Christian idea that mankind should be ‘ONE fold
under ONE shepherd’ has, in the person of our illustrious ruler, found
its first and principal representative here on earth. The league of
universal peace is solely due to His Majesty, and if we are called upon
to present to our gracious Lord and Master our humble proposals for
combating the danger which immediately menaces our country, all our
deliberations should be inspired by that spirit which animates the
Christian law of brotherly love.”
Grand Duke Michael raised his hand in interruption. “Alexander
Nicolaievitch,” he said, turning to the Secretary, “do not omit to write
down this last sentence WORD FOR WORD.”
The Secretary of State made a short pause, only to continue with a
somewhat louder voice and in a more emphatic tone--
“No especial assurance is required that, in view of this, our noble
liege lord’s exalted frame of mind, a breach of the world’s peace could
not possibly come from our side. But our national honour is a sacred
possession, which we can never permit others to assail, and the attack
which Japan has made upon us in the Far East forced us to defend it
sword in hand. There is not a single right-minded man in the whole world
who could level a reproach at us for this war, which has been forced
upon us. But in our present danger a law of self-preservation impels
us to inquire whether Japan is, after all, the only and the real enemy
against whom we have to defend ourselves; and there are substantial
reasons for believing that this question should be answered in the
negative. His Majesty’s Government is convinced that we are indebted
for this attack on the part of Japan solely to the constant enmity of
England, who never ceases her secret machinations against us. It has
been England’s eternal policy to damage us for her own aggrandisement.
All our endeavours to promote the welfare of this Empire and make the
peoples happy have ever met with resistance on the part of England.
From the China Seas, throughout all Asia to the Baltic, England has ever
thrown obstacles in our way, in order to deprive us of the fruits of our
civilising policy. No one of us doubts for a moment that Japan is, in
reality, doing England’s work. Moreover, in every part of the globe
where our interests are at stake, we encounter either the open or covert
hostility of England. The complications in the Balkans and in Turkey,
which England has incited and fostered by the most despicable methods,
have simply the one object in view--to bring us into mortal conflict
with Austria and Germany. Yet nowhere are Great Britain’s real aims
clearer seen than in Central Asia. With indescribable toil and with
untold sacrifice of treasure and blood our rulers have entered the
barren tracts of country lying between the Black Sea and the Caspian,
once inhabited by semibarbarous tribes, and, further east again, the
lands stretching away to the Chinese frontier and the Himalayas, and
have rendered them accessible to Russian civilisation. But we have
never taken a step, either east or south, without meeting with English
opposition or English intrigues. To-day our frontiers march with the
frontier of British East India, and impinge upon the frontier of Persia
and Afghanistan. We have opened up friendly relations with both these
states, entertain close commercial intercourse with their peoples,
support their industrial undertakings, and shun no sacrifice to make
them amenable to the blessings of civilisation. Yet, step by step,
England endeavours to hamper our activity. British gold and British
intrigues have succeeded in making Afghanistan adopt a hostile attitude
towards us. We must at last ask ourselves this question: How long do we
intend to look on quietly at these undertakings? Russia must push
her way down to the sea. Millions of strong arms till the soil of our
country. We have at our own command inexhaustible treasures of corn,
wood, and all products of agriculture; yet we are unable to reach the
markets of the world with even an insignificant fraction of these fruits
of the earth that Providence has bestowed, because we are hemmed in, and
hampered on every side, so long as our way to the sea is blocked. Our
mid-Asiatic possessions are suffocated from want of sea air. England
knows this but too well, and therefore she devotes all her energies
towards cutting us off from the sea. With an insolence, for which there
is no justification, she declares the Persian Gulf to be her own domain,
and would like to claim the whole of the Indian Ocean, as she already
claims India itself, as her own exclusive property. This aggression must
at last be met with a firm ‘Hands off,’ unless our dear country is to
run the risk of suffering incalculable damage. It is not we who seek
war; war is being forced upon us. As to the means at our disposal for
waging it, supposing England will not spontaneously agree to our just
demands, His Excellency the Minister of War will be best able to give us
particulars.”
He bowed once more to the Grand Dukes and resumed his seat. The tall,
stately figure of the War Minister, Kuropatkin, next rose, at a sign
from the President, and said--
“For twenty years I served in Central Asia and I am able to judge, from
my own experience, of our position on the south frontier. In case of
a war with England, Afghanistan is the battle-ground of primary
importance. Three strategic passes lead from Afghanistan into India: the
Khyber Pass, the Bolan Pass, and the Kuram Valley. When, in 1878, the
English marched into Afghanistan they proceeded in three columns from
Peshawar, Kohat, and Quetta to Cabul, Ghazni, and Kandahar respectively.
These three roads have also been laid down as our lines of march. Public
opinion considers them the only possible routes. It would carry me too
far into detail were I to propound in this place my views as to the
‘pros and cons’ of this accepted view. In short, we SHALL find our way
into India. Hahibullah Khan would join us with his army, 60,000 strong,
as soon as we enter his territory. Of course, he is an ally of doubtful
integrity, for he would probably quite as readily join the English, were
they to anticipate us and make their appearance in his country with a
sufficiently imposing force. But nothing prevents our being first. Our
railway goes as far as Merv, seventy-five miles from Herat, and from
this central station to the Afghan frontier. With our trans-Caspian
railway we can bring the Caucasian army corps and the troops of
Turkestan to the Afghan frontier. I would undertake, within four weeks
of the outbreak of war, to mass a sufficient field army in Afghanistan
round Herat. Our first army can then be followed by a ceaseless stream
of regiments and batteries. The reserves of the Russian army are
inexhaustible, and we could place, if needs be, four million soldiers
and more than half a million of horses in the field. However, I am more
than doubtful whether England would meet us in Afghanistan. The English
generals would not, in any case, be well advised to leave India. Were
they defeated in Afghanistan only small fragments of their army at most
would escape back to India. The Afghans would show no mercy to a
fleeing English army and would destroy it, as has happened on a previous
occasion. If, on the other hand, which God forbid! the fortune of war
should turn against us, we should always find a line of retreat to
Turkestan open and be able to renew the attack at pleasure. If the
English army is defeated, then India is lost to Great Britain; for the
English are, in India, in the enemy’s country; as a defeated people they
will find no support in the Indian people. They would be attacked on all
sides by the Indian native chieftains, whose independence they have so
brutally destroyed, at the very moment that their power is broken. We,
on the other hand, should be received with open arms, as rescuers of the
Indian people from their intolerable yoke. The Anglo-Indian army looks
on paper much more formidable than it really is; its strength is put at
200,000 men, yet only one-third of this number are English soldiers, the
rest being composed of natives. This army, moreover, consists of four
divisions, which are scattered over the whole great territory of India.
A field army, for employment on the frontier or across it, cannot
possibly consist of more than 60,000 men; for, considering the
untrustworthiness of the population, the land cannot be denuded of its
garrisons. As a result of what I have said, I record my conviction that
the war will have to be waged in India itself, and that God will give us
the victory.”
The words of the General, spoken in an energetic and confident tone,
made a deep impression upon his hearers; only respect for the presence
of the Grand Dukes prevented applause. The greyhaired President gave the
Minister of War his hand, and invited the Minister for Foreign Affairs
to address them.
“In my opinion,” said the diplomatist, “there is no doubt that the
strategical opinions just delivered by His Excellency the Minister
for War are based upon an expert’s sound and correct estimate of the
circumstances, and I also am certain that the troops of His Majesty the
Tsar, accustomed as they are to victory, will, in the event of war, soon
be standing upon the plain of the Indus. It is also my firm conviction
that Russia would be best advised to take the offensive as soon as
ever the impossibility of our present relations to England has been
demonstrated. But whoever goes to war with England must not look to one
battleground alone. On the contrary, we must be prepared for attacks of
the most varied kinds, for an attack upon our finances, to begin with,
and upon our credit, as to which His Excellency Witte could give better
information than I could. The Bank of England, and the great banking
firms allied with it, would at once open this financial campaign.
Moreover, a ship sailing under the Russian flag would hardly dare show
itself on the open seas, and our international trade would, until our
enemy had been crushed, be absolutely at a standstill. Moreover, more
vital for us than considerations of this sort would be the question:
What of the attitude of the other great Powers? England’s political
art has, since the days of Oliver Cromwell, displayed itself chiefly in
adroitly making use of the continental Powers. It is no exaggeration to
say that England’s wars have been chiefly waged with continental armies.
This is not said in depreciation of England’s military powers. Wherever
the English fleet and English armies have been seen on the field of
battle, the energy, endurance, and intrepidity of their officers,
sailors, and soldiers have ever been brilliantly noticeable. The
traditions of the English troops who, under the Black Prince and Henry
V., marched in days of yore victorious through France, were again
green in the wars in the eighteenth century against France and against
Napoleon. Yet infinitely greater than her own military record has been
England’s success in persuading foreign countries to fight for her, and
in leading the troops of Austria, France, Germany, and Russia against
each other on the Continent. For the last two hundred years very few
wars have ever been waged without England’s co-operation, and without
her reaping the advantage. These few exceptions were the wars of
Bismarck, waged for the advantage and for the glory of his own country,
by which he earned the hatred of every good Englishman. While the
continent of Europe was racked by internal wars, which English diplomacy
had incited, Great Britain acquired her vast colonial possessions.
England has implicated us too in wars which redounded to her sole
advantage. I need only refer to the bloody, exhausting war of 1877-8,
and to the disastrous peace of San Stefano, where England’s intrigues
deprived us of the price of our victory over the Crescent. I refer,
further, to the Crimean War, in which a small English and a large French
army defeated us to the profit and advantage of England. That England,
and England alone, is again behind this attack upon us by Japan has been
dwelt upon by those who have already addressed you. Our enemies do not
see themselves called upon to depart in the slightest degree from a
policy that has so long stood them in such good stead, and it must,
therefore, be our policy to assure ourselves of the alliance, or at
least, where an alliance is unattainable, of the benevolent neutrality
of the other continental Powers in view of a war with England. To begin
with, as regards our ally, the French Republic, a satisfactory solution
of our task in this direction is already assured by the existing
treaties. Yet these treaties do not bind the French Government to
afford us military support in the case of a war which, in the eyes of
shortsighted observers, might perhaps be regarded as one which we had
ourselves provoked. We have accordingly opened negotiations through our
Ambassador with M. Delcasse, the French Minister for Foreign Affairs,
and with the President of the Republic himself. I have the supreme
satisfaction of being in a position to lay before you the result of
these negotiations in the form of a despatch just received from our
Ambassador in Paris. It runs, in the main, as follows: ‘I hasten to
inform Your Excellency that, in the name of the French Republic, M.
Delcasse has given me the solemn assurance that France will declare war
upon England at the moment His Majesty the Tsar has directed his armies
to march upon India. The considerations which have prompted the French
Government to take this step have been further explained to me by
M. Delcasse in our conference of this day, when he expressed himself
somewhat as follows: ‘Napoleon, a hundred years ago, perceived with rare
discernment that England was the real enemy of all continental nations,
and that the European continent could not pursue any other policy but to
combine in resisting that great pirate. The magnificent plan of Napoleon
was the alliance of France with Spain, Italy, Austria, Germany, and
Russia, in order to combat the rapacity of England. And he would, in
all probability, have carried his scheme through had it not been that
considerations of domestic policy determined the Tsar Alexander I., in
spite of his admiration for Napoleon’s ability, to run counter to the
latter’s intentions. The consequences of Napoleon’s defeat have shown
themselves sufficiently clearly during the past hundred years in
the enormous growth of the English power. The present political
constellation, which in many respects is very similar to that of the
year 1804, should be utilised to revive Napoleon’s plan once more.
Russia has, of course, the first and most vital interest in the downfall
of England, for, so long as Great Britain controls all the seas and all
the important coastlines, it is like a giant whose hands and feet are
fettered. Yet France is also checked in her natural development. Her
flourishing colonies in America and the Atlantic Ocean were wrested
from her in the eighteenth century. She was ousted by this overpowering
adversary from her settlements in the East Indies and--what the French
nation feels perhaps most acutely--Egypt, purchased for France by
the great Napoleon with the blood of his soldiers, was weaned away
by English gold and English intrigues. The Suez Canal, built by a
Frenchman, Lesseps, is in the possession of the English, facilitating
their communications with India, and securing them the sovereignty of
the world. France will accordingly make certain stipulations as the
price of its alliance--stipulations which are so loyal and equitable
that there is no question whatever of their not being agreed to on
the part of her ally, Russia. France demands that her possessions in
Tonking, Cochin China, Cambodia, Annam, and Laos shall be guaranteed;
that Russia be instrumental in assisting her to acquire Egypt, and that
it pledge itself to support the French policy in Tunis and the rest of
Africa.” In accordance with my instructions, I felt myself empowered
to assure M. Delcasse that his conditions were accepted on our side. In
answer to my question, whether a war with England would be popular in
France, the Minister said: “The French people will be ready for any
sacrifice if we make Fashoda our war-cry. British insolence never
showed itself more brutal and insulting than over this affair. Our brave
Marchand was on the spot with a superior force, and France was within
her rights. The simple demand of an English officer, who possessed
no other force but the moral one of the English flag, compelled us,
however, under the political circumstances which then obtained, to
abandon our righteous claims, and to recall our brave leader. How the
French people viewed this defeat has been plainly seen. The Parisians
gave Marchand a splendid ovation as a national hero, and the French
Government seriously contemplated the possibility of a revolution. We
are now in a position to take revenge for the humiliation which we then
endured, probably out of excessive prudence. If we inscribe the word
FASHODA on the tricolour there will not be in the whole of France a man
capable of bearing arms who will not follow our lead with enthusiasm.”
It appeared to me to be politic to assure myself whether the Government
or the inspired press would not perhaps promise the people the recovery
of Alsace-Lorraine as the price of a victorious issue of the war. But
the Minister replied decidedly, “No. The question of Alsace-Lorraine,”
he declared, “must remain outside our view as soon as we make up our
minds to go in for practical politics. Nothing could possibly be more
fatal than to rouse bad blood in Germany. For the German Emperor is the
tongue of the balance in which the destinies of the world are weighed.
England in her own esteem has nothing to fear from him. She regards him
more as an Englishman than a German. Her confidence in this respect must
not be disturbed; it forms one of the props on which British arrogance
supports itself. The everlasting assurances of the German Emperor, that
he intends peace and nothing but peace, appear, of course, to confirm
the correctness of this view. But I am certain that the Emperor
William’s love of peace has its limits where the welfare and the
security of Germany are seriously jeopardised. In spite of his impulsive
temperament, he is not the ruler to allow himself to be influenced
by every expression of popular clamour, and to be driven by every
ebullition of public feeling, to embark on a decisive course of action.
But he is far-seeing enough to discern at the right moment a real
danger, and to meet it with the whole force of his personality. I do
not, therefore, look upon the hope of gaining him for an ally as a
Utopian dream, and I trust that Russian diplomacy will join with ours
in bringing this alliance about. A war with England without Germany’s
support would always be a hazardous enterprise. Of course we are
prepared to embark upon such a war, alike for our friendship with Russia
and for the sake of our national honour, but we could only promise
ourselves a successful issue if all the continental great Powers join
hands in this momentous undertaking.”
Although the fact of an offensive and defensive alliance with France in
view of a war with England could not have been unknown to the majority
of the assembled company, yet the reading of this despatch, which
was followed with breathless attention, evidently produced a deep
impression. Its publication left no room for doubt that this war
had been resolved on in the highest quarters, and although no loud
manifestation of applause followed its reading, the illustrious
assemblage now breathed freely, and almost all faces wore an expression
of joyous satisfaction.
Only one man, with knitted brows, regarded the scene with serious
disapproval. For decades past he had been regarded as the most
influential man in Russia--as a power, in fact, who had constantly
thwarted the plans of the leading statesmen and had carried his opinions
through with unswerving energy.
This solitary malcontent was Pobiedonostsev, the Chief Procurator of the
Holy Synod, who, despite his grey hairs, was detested only less than he
was feared.
His gloomy mien and his shake of the head had not escaped the presiding
Grand Duke, and the latter evidently considered it to be his duty to
give this man who had enjoyed the confidence of three successive Tsars
an opportunity of recording his divergent opinion.
At his summons the Chief Procurator arose, and, amid complete silence,
said--
“It cannot be my duty to deliver an opinion as to the possibility or on
the prospects of an alliance with Germany, for I am as little acquainted
as any here present with the intentions and plans of the German Emperor.
William II. is the greatest sphinx of our age. He talks much, and his
speeches give the impression of complete sincerity; but who can guess
what is really behind them? That he has formulated a fixed programme
as his life’s work, and that he is the man to carry it out, regardless
whether public opinion is on his side or not, thus much appears to me
to be certain. If the subjection of England is a part of his programme,
then the hopes of the French Minister would, in fact, be no Utopia,
only supposing that the Emperor William considers the present the most
suitable time for disclosing to the world his ultimate aims. It would
be the task of our diplomatic representative at the Court of Berlin to
assure himself on this point. But it is quite another question whether
Russia really needs an alliance either with Germany or with the Western
Power just referred to, and my view of the case leads me to answer this
question in the negative. Russia is, at the present time, the last and
sole bulwark of absolutism in Europe, and if a ruler called by God’s
grace to the highest and most responsible of all earthly offices is to
remain strong enough to crush the spirit of rebellion and immorality
which here and there, under the influence of foreign elements, has shown
itself in our beloved country, we must, before all things, take heed to
keep far away from our people the poison of the so-called liberal ideas,
infidelity, and atheism with which it seems likely to be contaminated
from the West. In like manner, as we, a century ago, crushed the
powerful leader of the revolution, so also shall we to-day triumph
over our foe--we single-handed! Let our armies march into Persia,
Afghanistan, and India, and lead throughout all Asia the dominion of the
true faith to victory. But keep our holy Russia uncontaminated by the
poison of that heretical spirit, which would be a worse foe than any
foreign power can be.”
He sat down, and for a moment absolute silence reigned. The Grand Duke
made a serious face, and exchanged a few whispered words with both his
nephews.
Then he said: “All the gentlemen who have here given us their views on
the situation are agreed that a declaration of war upon England is
an exceedingly lamentable but, under the circumstances, unavoidable
necessity; yet before I communicate to His Majesty, our gracious
Lord, this view, which is that of us all, I put to you, gentlemen, the
question whether there is anyone here who is of a contrary opinion. In
this case, I would beg of him to address us.”
He waited a short while, but as no one wished to be allowed to speak, he
rose from his chair, and with a few words of thanks and a gentle bow to
the dignitaries, who had also risen in their places, notified that
he regarded the sitting, fraught with momentous consequences for the
destiny of the world, as closed.
II
THE OFFICERS’ MESS
The place was Chanidigot, in British East India. The blinding brightness
of the hot day had been immediately followed, almost without the
transition to twilight, by the darkness of evening, which brought with
it a refreshing coolness, allowing all living things to breathe again
freely. In the wide plain, which served as the encampment ground for the
English regiment of lancers, all was alive again with the setting of
the sun. The soldiers, freed from the toil of duty, enjoyed themselves,
according to their ideas and dispositions, either in playing cards,
singing, or merrily drinking. The large tent, used as a messroom by the
officers, also showed signs of life. Dinner was over, and a number of
gentlemen sat down to a game of cards, as was their daily custom. But
here the amusement was of a less harmless character than in the case of
the private soldiers. For not innocent bridge, but “poker” was the order
of the day, a game much affected in America and also in some parts of
England, a game which is solely determined by chance together with a
certain histrionic bluffing on the part of the players, and the stakes
were rather high. It was mostly played by the younger gentlemen, who
could not do without their nerve-tonic in the evenings, in the monotony
of camp life. The older men sat apart at tables, talking and drinking
whisky-and-soda, and smoking their short pipes. Amongst them there was
also a gentleman in civilian dress. The hospitality with which he was
treated showed that he was not one of the officers of the regiment,
but their guest. The sound of his name--he was addressed as Mr.
Heideck--would have betrayed his German origin, even had his appearance
not proclaimed it. He was of but medium height, but athletic in build.
His erect, soldiery bearing and the elasticity of his movements plainly
betokened his excellent health and considerable bodily strength. A
foreigner can hardly present better credentials to an Englishman
than these qualities. Perhaps, more than anything else, it was his
distinguished appearance, in conjunction with his amiable and thoroughly
gentlemanly bearing, that had so quickly opened the usually very
exclusive officers’ circle to the young German, with his clever,
energetic features, and his honest blue eyes.
Judged by his profession he did not, perhaps, belong to their society,
according to the ideas of some of these gentlemen. It was known that he
was travelling for a large commercial house in Hamburg. His uncle,
the head of the house, imported indigo. And since the Maharajah of
Chanidigot was the owner of very extensive indigo fields, young Heideck
had been detained here a whole fortnight by commercial negotiations with
the prince. He had succeeded, during this time, in gaining the lively
sympathies of all, but particularly of the older British officers. In
Indian garrisons every European is welcome. Heideck was also invited to
those social functions at which the ladies of the regiment were present.
He had always refused an invitation to cards with polite firmness, and
to-day also he was at most an uninterested and unconcerned spectator.
Presently the door of the tent opened and a tall, but extremely slim
officer joined the circle of his comrades, jingling his spurs with a
self-conscious, almost haughty attitude. He was in undress uniform and
talked to one of the gentlemen, who addressed him as Captain Irwin,
about just returning from a fatiguing ride for the inspection of
an outpost. He demanded from one of the orderlies in attendance a
refreshing drink, the favourite whisky-and-soda, then he drew close to
the gaming-table.
“Room for a little one?” he asked. And place was readily made for him.
For a little while the game of poker went on in the same quiet way as
before. But suddenly something extraordinary must have happened. All the
gentlemen, except Captain Irwin and one of the players, laid down their
cards, and the unpleasantly penetrating voice of Captain Irwin was
heard.
“You are an old fox, Captain McGregor! But I am aware of your tricks and
cannot be taken in by them. Therefore, once more, six hundred rupees!”
Every poker-player knows that, so far from being considered
dishonourable, it is a chief sign of skill in the game, where each man
plays for his own hand, for one to deceive the rest as to the value of
the cards he holds. The name of “bluff,” which has been given to this
game, is itself sufficient to show that everyone has to try his best to
puzzle his adversaries.
But this time Irwin appeared to have met his match in McGregor. For the
Captain replied calmly: “Six hundred and fifty. But I advise you not to
see me, Irwin.”
“Seven hundred.”
“Seven hundred and fifty.”
“Thousand!” shouted Irwin with resounding voice, and leant back in his
chair smiling, as if certain of victory.
“You had better consider what you are about,” said McGregor. “I have
given you warning.”
“A convenient way to haul in seven hundred and fifty rupees. I repeat: A
thousand rupees.”
“One thousand and fifty!”
“Two thousand!”
All the gentlemen present in the tent had risen and stood round the two
players, who, their cards concealed in their hands, watched each other
with sharp glances. Hermann Heideck, who had stepped behind Irwin,
noticed on the right hand of the Captain a magnificent diamond ring. But
he also perceived, by the way the bright sparkle of the stone quivered,
how the gambler’s fingers trembled.
Captain McGregor turned to his companions. “I take the gentlemen to
witness that I have advised my comrade Irwin not to see me at six
hundred.”
“To the devil with your advice!” Irwin interrupted almost furiously. “Am
I a boy? Will you see me at two thousand, McGregor, or will you not?”
“Very well, since you insist upon it--three thousand.”
“Five thousand.”
“Five thousand five hundred.”
“Ten thousand.”
One of the higher officers, Major Robertson, laid his hand lightly upon
the shoulder of the rash gambler.
“That is too much, Irwin. I do not care to interfere in these things,
and since you do not belong to my regiment, I can only speak to you as a
comrade, not as a superior. But I am afraid you will be in difficulties
if you lose.”
Angrily the Captain fired up--
“What do you mean by that, sir? If your words are intended to express a
doubt as to my solvency--”
“Well! well--I did not mean to offend you. After all, you must know best
yourself what you are justified in doing.”
Irwin repeated with a defiant air--
“Ten thousand! I am waiting for your answer, McGregor.”
The adversary remained as calm as before.
“Ten thousand five hundred.”
“Twenty thousand!”
“Are you drunk, Irwin?” whispered the young Lieutenant Temple into the
Captain’s ear, from the other side. But he only glanced round with a
furious look.
“Not more than you. Leave me alone, if you please.”
“Twenty-one thousand,” came the calm response from the other side of the
table.
A short, awkward pause followed. Captain Irwin nervously gnawed his
small dark moustache. Then he raised his slim figure and called out--
“Fifty thousand!”
Once more the Major considered it his duty to endeavour to stop the
game.
“I object,” he said. “It has been always a rule that the pool cannot
be raised by more than a thousand rupees at a time. This limit has long
since been passed.”
A rude, hoarse laugh escaped Irwin’s lips.
“It appears you want to save me, Major. But I am not in need of any
saviour. If I lose I pay, and I don’t understand why the gentlemen are
so concerned on my behalf.”
The Major, who at last saw that all his good endeavours were misplaced,
shrugged his shoulders. Lieutenant Temple, however, thought he had
a good idea, and with an apparently unintentional, though violent,
movement pushed against the light camp-table, and sent ashtrays,
bottles, glasses, and cards flying on the ground. But he did not gain
anything by this, for the two players held their cards firmly in their
hands, and did not allow this contretemps to disturb their sangfroid for
a single moment.
“Fifty-one,” said McGregor.
“Sixty.”
“Sixty-one.”
“Seventy.”
“Seventy-one.”
“Eighty.”
“Eighty-one.”
“A lakh!” cried Irwin, who was now pale from excitement.
“Really?” asked McGregor calmly, “that is a fine bid. A lakh--that is,
reckoned at the present rate of exchange, 6,500 pounds sterling. You
will be a wealthy man, Irwin, if you win. Now, then, I see you.”
With trembling fingers, but with a triumphant look, the Captain laid
down his cards.
“Straight flush,” he said hoarsely.
“Yes, a strong hand,” replied the other, smiling. “But which is your
highest card?”
“The king, as you see for yourself.”
“That’s a pity, for I have also, as it happens, a straight flush, but
mine is up to the ace.”
Slowly, one after the other, he laid down his cards--ace of hearts, king
of hearts, queen of hearts, knave of hearts, ten of hearts. One single
exclamation of surprise came from the lips of the bystanders. None of
them had ever seen the coincidence of such an extraordinary sequence.
Captain Irwin sat motionless for a moment, fixing his unsteady eyes
straight upon his adversary’s cards. Then he suddenly sprang up with a
wild laugh, and left the tent with jingling steps.
“This loss spells ruin for Irwin,” said the Major gravely. “He is not in
a position to pay such a sum.”
“With his wife’s assistance he could,” chimed in another; “but it would
eat up pretty well the rest of her fortune.”
“I call you, gentlemen, to witness that it is not my fault,” said
McGregor, who thought he perceived a certain degree of reproach in the
faces of the bystanders; but all agreed with him.
Lieutenant Temple, who alone of all those present kept up a certain
superficial friendship with Irwin, remarked, “Somebody must go after him
to see that he does not do something foolish in his first excitement.”
He turned as if to leave the room, but a call from McGregor stopped him.
“It will be no use, Temple, unless you are able to calm him in some
way or other. In my opinion there is only one thing to do. He must be
persuaded that the whole affair is only a joke, and that the cards had
been shuffled beforehand.”
The Lieutenant went back to the table.
“The suggestion of this way of putting it does you honour, Captain; only
I have my doubts if any of us would have the courage to go to him with
this manifest lie.”
The silence of the others appeared to confirm this doubt, when the
decisive voice of the German guest interrupted with--
“Will you entrust me, gentlemen, with this mission? I know Captain Irwin
only slightly, it is true, and should have no reason to interfere with
his private concerns; but I hear that it is his wife’s property which
has been at stake here, and as I consider Mrs. Irwin a very honourable
lady I would gladly do my best to save her from such a heavy pecuniary
loss.”
McGregor held out his hand.
“You would place me under a great obligation, Mr. Heideck, if you could
succeed in this matter, but I warn you that there is no time to lose.”
Heideck quickly left the tent, but when he had come out into the
delicious moonlight night the first thing that met his eye was Captain
Irwin, some twenty yards distant, standing by his horse. The servant
held the animal by the bridle, and Captain Irwin was about to mount. On
coming nearer he saw the servant move off and perceived that Irwin held
a revolver in his hand. With a quick motion he seized the officer’s
wrist.
“One moment, Captain Irwin.”
Irwin started, turned round, and looked with fury at Heideck.
“I beg your pardon,” said the German, “but you are labouring under a
mistake, Captain. The game was all a jest; they were playing a trick
upon you. The cards were arranged beforehand.”
Irwin made no reply, but whistled to his servant and went back into the
tent, revolver still in hand, without a single word to Heideck. Heideck
followed. Both gentlemen stepped up to the card-table, and Irwin turned
to McGregor.
“You tell me the game was all a got-up thing, do you?” he asked.
“As a lesson to you, Irwin--you who always plunge as a madman, and
imagine yourself a good player, when you have not the necessary cold
blood for gambling.”
“Well,” said Irwin, “that is a story that I will take care goes the
round of all the garrisons in India, as an instance of kind comrade-like
feeling, so that everyone may be warned against coming along here and
being induced to take a hand. I never in my life came across a more
despicable story; but it certainly is a lesson for me, that only
honourable persons should be--”
“No, Captain Irwin,” said McGregor, standing bolt upright, levelling
at his insulter a withering look from his great blue eyes, “you should
rather think of your poor wife, whom you would have made a pauper if
this game had not been all a hoax.”
Irwin reeled back; the revolver fell from his grasp.
“What,” he gasped--“what do you mean? It was, then, no joke, after all.
I, then, really lost the money? Oh, you--you--But what do you take
me for? Be quite certain that I will pay. But,” he cried, collecting
himself, “I should like to know what the real truth is, after all. I ask
this question of you all, and call you rogues and liars if you do not
tell me the truth. Have I only really been played with, or has the game
been a straightforward one?”
“Captain Irwin,” replied the Major, advancing towards him, “I, as the
senior, tell you, in the name of our comrades, that your behaviour would
have been unpardonable unless a sort of madness had seized you. The
game was a straightforward one, and only the generosity of Captain
McGregor--”
Irwin did not wait for the conclusion of the sentence, but, with a
bound, was again outside the tent.
III
A RUSSIAN COMRADE
Hermann Heideck lived in a dak bungalow, one of those hotels kept going
by the Government, which afford travellers shelter, but neither bed nor
food. On returning home from the camp he found his servant, Morar Gopal,
standing at the door ready to receive his master, and was informed that
a newcomer had arrived with two attendants. As this dak bungalow was
more roomy than most of the others, the new arrivals were able to find
accommodation, and Heideck was not obliged, as is usual, to make way as
the earlier guest for a later arrival.
“What countryman is the gentleman?” he inquired.
“An Englishman, sahib!”
Heideck entered his room and sat down at the table, upon which,
besides the two dim candles, stood a bottle of whisky, a few bottles of
soda-water and the inevitable box of cigarettes. He was moody and in a
bad humour. The exciting scene in the officers’ mess had affected him
greatly, not on account of Captain Irwin, who, from the first moment
of their acquaintance, was quite unsympathetic to him, but solely on
account of the beautiful young wife of the frivolous officer, of whom
he had a lively recollection from their repeated meetings in social
circles. None of the other officers’ wives--and there were many
beautiful and amiable women among them--had made such a deep and abiding
impression upon him as Edith Irwin, whose personal charms had fascinated
him as much as her extraordinary intellectual powers had astonished
him. The reflection that this graceful creature was fettered with
indissoluble bonds to a brutal and dissolute fellow of Irwin’s stamp,
and that her husband would perhaps one day drag her down with him into
inevitable ruin, awoke in him most painful feelings. He would so gladly
have done something for the unhappy wife. But he was obliged to admit
that there was no possibility for him, a stranger, who was nothing to
her but a superficial acquaintance, to achieve anything in the way he
most desired. The Captain would be completely justified in rejecting
every uncalled-for interference with his affairs as a piece of monstrous
impudence; and then, too, in what way could he hope to be of any
assistance?
A sudden noise in the next room aroused Heideck from his sad reverie. He
heard loud scolding and a clapping sound, as if blows from a whip were
falling upon a bare human body. A minute later and the door between the
rooms flew open and an Indian, dressed only in cummerbund and turban,
burst into the room, as if intending to seek here protection from his
tormentor. A tall European, dressed entirely in white flannel, followed
at the man’s heels and brought his riding-whip down mercilessly upon the
naked back of the howling wretch. Heideck’s presence did not, evidently,
disturb him in the least.
At the first glance the young German perceived that his neighbour could
not be an Englishman, as his servant had told him he was. His strikingly
thin, finely-cut features, and his peculiarly oval, black eyes and
soft, dark beard betrayed much more the Sarmatic than the characteristic
Anglo-Saxon type.
The man’s appearance did not make an unfavourable impression, but he
could not possibly overlook his behaviour. Stepping between him and his
victim he demanded, energetically, what this scene meant. The other,
laughing, let drop the arm which had been again raised to strike.
“I beg your pardon, sir,” he said with a foreign accent, “a very good
boy, but he steals like a crow, and must have the whip occasionally. I
am sure that he has concealed somewhere about him the five rupees
which have been stolen from me again to-day.” On saying this, as if
he considered this information quite sufficient explanation, he again
caught hold of the black fellow, and with a single wrench tore the
turban from his head. From the white, red-bordered cloth a few pieces of
silver fell and rolled jingling over the tiles; and at the same time a
larger object fell at Heideck’s feet. He picked it up and held in
his hand a gold cigarette-case, the lid of which was engraved with a
prince’s coronet. On handing it to the stranger, the latter bowed his
thanks and made his apologies like a man of good breeding. The Indian
the while took the opportunity, in a few monkey-like bounds, to make
good his escape. The sight of the coat-of-arms on the cigarette-case
aroused in Heideck the desire to make nearer acquaintance with his
impetuous neighbour. As though he had quite forgotten the extraordinary
manner of his entrance into the room, he asked, blandly, if he might
invite his neighbour, whom accident had thus thrust upon him, to a cigar
and a “nightcap.”
The other accepted the invitation with amiable alacrity. “You are also
a commercial traveller, sir?” inquired Heideck; and on receiving
an affirmative answer, continued, “we are then colleagues. Are you
satisfied with your results here?”
“Oh, things might be better. There is too much competition.”
“Cotton?”