MY ROLE AS A CONSPIRATOR
Baron von Ringheim did not observe my profound consternation at hearing
that he had a bomb in his possession, and he appeared to regard it only
as a useful thing to carry about in a dressing-bag. He was indeed
engrossed by his own shrewdness in keeping it by him so as to prevent
its use at the wrong moment.
I believe that he interpreted my dismay rather as a tribute to his
admirable caution. That I should object to have such a thing in my
house did not occur to him.
For some moments I was at a loss what line to take. Of course I had to
get possession of the bomb at any cost. If he were arrested and it were
to be found there, we should all find ourselves in prison and called on
to face a charge involving heavy punishment.
"I have done you an injustice, Baron," I said, changing my tone for one
of profound admiration. "You are a wonderful leader."
He accepted this with something of a return to his former dignified
bearing. "You have greatly wronged me, Herr Bastable," he said with
dignity.
I played up to this at once. "For the future you will have no more
devoted follower than myself. I crave your pardon for my bluntness; but
you shall know the truth. I was told that you had ceased to lead the
movement, and it was essential that I should satisfy myself. My life is
at stake in this cause. But I shall doubt no more."
"Then you are with us?"
"With you, Baron, heart and soul. I raised my voice against it all at
the time; I protested against the shame of doubting you; I used every
means in my power to convince the others. But all was in vain. They
insisted; and I was but one against all the rest."
He was as much bewildered at this as I had intended. "I don't
understand," he said.
I replied with a passionate harangue against the wickedness of any
attempt to undermine his authority, and talked until his poor
half-crazed wits were in a whirl of perplexity. Then with dramatic
earnestness I cried: "You have been shamefully betrayed and deceived."
"What do you mean?" he stammered.
"That," I exclaimed indignantly, pointing at the bag. "But I will see
that all is made right. The bomb you have there is a sham, a fraud, a
trick. The real one is in the hands of those who mean to use it when
and how they please. Your counsels of humanity have been set at naught,
and the lives of hundreds are in peril."
"It is impossible," he protested weakly.
"Show it to me and I will prove my words; aye, and do more than that. I
will see that the real one is placed in your possession."
The look he cast at me was almost piteous in its appealing trustfulness;
and after a second's pause, he unfastened the bag, and with fingers
which trembled so violently that I feared he would drop it, he handed me
the bomb.
That I took it with intense relief may well be imagined, and I handled
it with the utmost caution and no little dread. Whether it was really
the terrible engine of destruction that he believed, I did not know; but
with an assumption of confidence I was very far from feeling, I pointed
to some mark on it. "I knew it," I cried. "See that. The proof of the
betrayal; shame! shame!" and with that I slipped it into a large inner
pocket of my jacket.
"What are you going to do?" he asked as I turned to the door.
"I am on fire until this has been righted. When I return I shall have
something to tell you. From this moment you, and you only, are my
leader."
He was going to protest, but I gave him no time. My one thought was to
get rid of the thing at once. But how to do so perplexed me sorely.
I was consumedly uncomfortable and intensely scared. I felt that my life
was in danger every second the confounded thing was in my possession.
Every time it moved ever so slightly as I walked I feared that it would
explode, and I drew my first deep breath of relief the instant I was out
of the house.
But the streets had even more potential terrors. When any one approached
me on the side where I was carrying it, I was afraid they would knock
against it and blow me and half Berlin with me into eternity.
Every policeman I met was an object of dread; and when one turned to
gaze after me, I jumped to the conclusion that he knew what I was
carrying and was about to arrest me.
I left the house with no definite purpose or plan for getting rid of it,
and I walked on at first aimlessly, wondering vaguely whether I should
hide it or bury it somewhere without being observed.
With this thought I made for the Thiergarten, and I had reached the west
end of Unter den Linden when it occurred to me that the best and
simplest course would be to drop it over the Marschall Bridge into the
river.
I walked down North Wilhelmsstrasse with much the sort of feeling a
thief might have who had the proceeds of his theft upon him and knew
that the police were close on his track. Every harmless citizen I met
became a detective, told off especially to watch me; and when I reached
the bridge and loitered along, gazing enviously at the water below and
waiting for a chance to drop the thing over unseen, I was convinced that
everybody there could tell from my manner that I was intent upon the
commission of some ill deed and had slackened their pace to watch me.
My fingers trembled so violently as I held it in readiness that I wonder
I did not drop it on the pavement; and when a chance did come at last,
and I was alone close to the middle of the bridge and took it out of my
pocket, glancing furtively all round me the while, the perspiration
stood in great beads on my forehead.
At the last moment even I had a horrible and almost paralysing fear that
when dropped from such a height it might be exploded by contact with the
water; and when at last I did succeed in letting it go, I watched its
fall with bated breath and a sort of dread that the end of all things
for me was at hand.
But it disappeared from sight and nothing happened, and I drew one deep,
deep breath of fierce exultant joy, and then leaned against the parapet
with the helpless inertness of a drunken man.
It was some time before I could rally myself sufficiently to set about
finding something which I could take back with me to the Baron as the
real bomb. How to manage this puzzled me not a little.
I searched the shop windows for some kind of hollow metal ball; my
intention being to fill it with shot and other things so as to be of
about the same weight as the thing I had thrown into the river. I
hunted in vain for this until a man in an ironmonger's shop suggested a
ball-cock.
I had invented a little story about wanting it for some private
theatricals. He was an ingenious fellow and became quite interested in
helping me. He hunted up one of the size I wished, filed off the long
handle, drilled a hole and stuffed in some cotton waste and enough shot
to give it the required weight, and succeeded in making up a very
passable counterfeit of an actual bomb.
At a gunsmith's I bought some blank revolver cartridges for the Baron's
revolver, in case he should object to hand that over to me; and thus
prepared I turned homewards very much easier in mind.
Close to the house I met Herr Feldermann, and he stopped me. "I have
just come from your house, Herr Bastable--about the Ziegler murder, you
know."
"Have you found the men, then?" I asked as unconcernedly as I could.
"Not yet; but of course we shall find them. We have such a close
description."
"I shall certainly know them again."
"There is a somewhat curious thing about it," he said slowly, and then
with a sudden penetrating glance: "Have you ever seen the Baron von
Ringheim?"
There was nothing for it but a lie, so I lied. "No. You don't mean that
he has anything to do with this?"
"Dormund swears that your description fits him like a glove."
I managed to smile. "Isn't the Baron something of a red rag to Dormund?
He gave me that impression that day at the station."
"There's something in that, perhaps. But he's a very shrewd fellow.
You don't think there's anything in the idea, then?"
"My dear Feldermann, how on earth should I know? If I had seen him I
could tell in a second."
"His daughter is with your sister; do you happen to know if the father
is really in Berlin?"
"I can ask her if you like."
"Of course if you find out anything about his movements you'll tell us?"
"Of course. It would make a rattling good newspaper story, wouldn't it?
By the way, I suppose you'll want my evidence. Don't bother me unless
it's necessary."
"I came to tell you that we shall not have to trouble you yet, and
perhaps not at all if you can help us in the way I've suggested. And I
think you'll be able to, if you wish."
With this uncomfortably suggestive hint he left me.
Did he know already that the Baron was with me? One never could get to
the bottom of his thoughts. If he did know anything, why had he not
arrested the man whom the description appeared to fit so exactly?
Ah well, it was no use to seek trouble. Plenty of complications were
coming my way unsought. I was fast getting into the mood of a fatalist.
If everything was destined to go smash, smash it would go; and nothing I
could do could prevent it.
As soon as I reached home I had a long interview with the Baron. It was
very much of a burlesque. I made up a story about the manner in which I
had secured the deadly bomb which I placed in his hands; succeeded in
substituting blank cartridges for those in his weapon; and, what was of
even more importance, got from him the particulars of the contemplated
destruction of the war-ship.
This was after I had thoroughly convinced him that I was heart and hand
in the cause of which he believed himself to be the leader, and had told
him that Althea should be taken fully into our confidence.
I saw her alone first, however, and gave her an account of all that had
passed. She was deeply moved by the story.
"They are merely making a tool of him, Mr. Bastable; and they must have
given him that awful thing because they were afraid of the results to
themselves should it be discovered in their possession. My poor
father!"
"If you will take the line I have already taken with him, I think it may
be possible to stop any further mischief at least," I said. "But he
must be made to feel that unless he trusts to me he can do nothing. Then
we can see about getting him away from the city."
"But the danger to you. We have no right to place you in such a
position. I intended to take him away somewhere to-day."
"Bessie told me something about that. But it is impracticable. You had
better remain here. You forget that you promised Herr Feldermann to let
him know wherever you were," I reminded her.
"What can we do then?"
"I am still confident that all will come right if we can only get time
enough. And time we must have at any risk and cost."
"There is always one way open," she said hesitatingly. "At least I
presume so. Do you think if I were to agree to do what Herr von Felsen
requires, that he could still obtain my father's pardon?"
"Would you do it, if I did think so?"
"What else can I do?" she cried distractedly.
"For one thing--keep a stout heart and have patience. I do not pretend
that your father's arrival here and his visit to the Jew's house has not
seriously complicated matters; but you may still have a little grain of
trust in me."
"As if I had not! But the thought of the danger you are----" She broke
off as if she had been about to say something that might have been
embarrassing. "Of course I trust you," she added after the pause.
"That is all I ask--at present, at all events, until that last resource
you spoke of need no longer be contemplated. And now, let us have this
talk with your father."
She put out her hand impulsively, and as I pressed it our eyes met. No
other word was spoken, but I think she understood much of what I should
have said had not my lips been sealed.
The interview with the Baron was a curious mixture of pathos and
burlesque. The pain which I could see Althea was suffering cut me to
the quick, and I sought to shorten the conversation as much as possible.
But her father was so full of his own importance, so talkative about his
wrongs, so insistent upon my complete obedience to his orders, so
obviously unable to take a rational view of any part of the subject, and
so incapable of understanding the risks and dangers of the position,
that it was a long time before we could drive it home upon him that the
only hope of success lay in his leaving everything to me.
"But your very presence in Berlin is a danger," said Althea more than
once when we were attempting to persuade him to leave the city.
"No one knows of it, child. And I have not done anything if they did.
Beside, would you have me, the leader of the whole movement, shirk the
danger now that the hour has come?"
"It may get to be known that you were at Herr Ziegler's house last
night."
"I went to prevent violence, child. That is surely no crime."
"And you are placing Herr Bastable in danger by remaining here."
"Is it not his duty to run risks in the cause? Is he to be the only man
to venture nothing for our country? Danger, indeed," he cried
indignantly. "Have we not all suffered? What of my own sufferings?"
and he was off again on his favourite topic when I interrupted him.
"Have you any commands in regard to the forthcoming attack?"
"Ah, that will be a stroke; and it is my own conception"; and as the
wind will turn a straw, he went off to the fresh subject and spoke at
length about it.
It appeared that a new cruiser, the _Wundervoll_, had just been
launched; and the intention was to wreck her as she lay waiting to be
taken to be fitted up. The bomb which, thank Heaven, lay at the bottom
of the Spree was to do the mischief, and the exact details of the plan
as to time and means were to be discussed and settled at a forthcoming
meeting of some of the more reckless men of the party.
A very little ingenuity succeeded in extracting from him the place of
the meeting--a house on the riverside which had been taken by them,
ostensibly for some business purposes. But the time of the meeting he
did not appear to know.
"I shall learn that in due course. They cannot move without me; for I
trust no one but myself with the means. But it will not be yet for some
days."
"Do you mean then, father, that some one else knows you are here?" asked
Althea in a tone of alarm, with a glance in my direction.
"Could I lead them without their being able to communicate with me? You
are foolish, Althea. Did they not prepare this shelter for me?"
"Oh, it is terrible," she murmured with a deep sigh.
"It will be glorious, you should say rather, child," he replied, with a
wild look in his eyes. "The greatest blow which we have yet been able
to strike at the oppressors of our country!"
"I will go and see what is doing," I put in as I rose. "I will report to
you the results of my inquiries, and you will of course do nothing
without first hearing them, and without my aid. You would not rob me of
my share in the coming victory?"
"Bring me word instantly," he said in a tone of sharp command. "And I
wish to see Sudermann and Bolinsk to consult with them. See them and
bring them here to me at once."
"It would not be safe for them to be seen coming here. My house is too
well known for them to take such a risk."
"See them then and tell them---- Wait, I will write you a letter." He
turned aside and wrote rapidly, and in the meantime Althea looked at me
with an expression of such pain and concern that I was almost ashamed of
the deception I was practising.
"Here is the note. 'The bearer, Herr Bastable, has my fullest
confidence and knows my wishes. Consult with him freely.' That will
satisfy them, if they should have any doubt about speaking frankly to
you."
"Oh, but they will not," I answered confidently; and with that I left
the room.
As I went downstairs I was about to tear up the letter, when it occurred
to me as a possibility that it might be of use in any future case of
emergency, so I put it carefully away.
Then I set to work to think out some means of inducing the Baron to
leave Berlin, by using my supposed influence in the party. If I could
tell him a plausible story to the effect that the attempt had had to be
postponed for a few weeks and that the authorities had got wind of it,
he might go. And for Althea's sake, as well as for our own, I was
intensely anxious to get him away.
As I sat planning this a letter was brought to me from Herr Borsen.
"MY DEAR BASTABLE,--
"Can you come and see me? I understand that you have another visitor in
your house, and it is about that I should like a few words with you. I
wish to be able to contradict a strange report which has reached me
concerning him; since, if uncontradictcd, it might be a somewhat serious
matter for you. Any time to-morrow will do, but not later.
"Yours as ever."
If I had been wishful for the Baron to go before, the letter turned the
wish into a strenuous anxiety.
It looked very much like the beginning of the end.