Von Wittelsbach's Plan
GENERAL HEINRICH VON WITTELSBACH, the commandant of the garrison of
Heligoland, was a man of fifty-five years of age, of medium height,
corpulent and choleric. His iron-grey hair, growing low on his
forehead, literally bristled; the ends of his bushy eyebrows
well-nigh touched the tips of his upturned moustache, which as the
result of years of training outvied those of his Imperial master.
Von Wittelsbach was a pronounced Anglophobe, and on that account was
a great favourite with the German Crown Prince. On the other hand,
his hot-headed outbursts against everything British were
discountenanced by the Kaiser, who took a more level view of things.
The time was not yet ripe for Germany to measure steel with the
nation that in the Teutonic mind formed the sole barrier to colonial
expansion, and for the present it was considered advisable to remove
Von Wittelsbach to a more remote sphere, where his activities could
be prosecuted in secret and with an energy that suited the old
veteran's ideas to a nicety. So the general was placed in command of
the important military and naval station of Heligoland.
Like most German officers Von Wittelsbach was badly attacked by the
espionage mania. In his eyes every man not in German uniform was a
spy. In one or two instances he had burned his fingers rather badly,
for, having caused supposed spies to be arrested and sent to the
Supreme Court at Leipzig for trial, he failed to make good his case.
A section of the German Press, loath to miss a chance of revenge upon
the autocratic Von Wittelsbach, held him up to ridicule. The general
vowed that the next time there would be no mistake, and took the
precaution of obtaining authority to try supposed spies summarily,
instead of sending them to the Saxon town.
Still attended by their armed guards, Hamerton and Detroit found
themselves in the room where the preliminary examination was to be
held. It was to be a trial behind closed doors, for in addition to
the prisoners and the file of stolid marines the only persons present
were General Heinrich von Wittelsbach, Major Karl von Schloss,
Naval-Lieutenant Schwalbe--the officer who had effected the
arrest--and a military secretary.
The room was a large one, simply furnished as an office, the only
attempt at ornamentation being the presence of a large bust of the
Kaiser set in a niche above the mantelpiece. At one end of the room
stood a table about twenty feet in length and fifteen in width, the
top being carefully covered with a green baize cloth. Had that
covering been removed, Hamerton would have been able to see a chart
of the North Sea, the land being shown in relief. On this, from
information supplied by trustworthy agents, the position of every
unit of the British fleet was recorded as quickly as reports came to
hand. Every battery, aircraft station, regimental depot, and railway
communication was carefully shown, so that a reliable and up-to-date
plan lay ready to hand when "The Day" came.
The President made no attempt to address the prisoners in German.
Schwalbe had already acquainted him with the fact that one of the
accused spoke that language fairly well, but Von Wittelsbach told him
that he would not listen to a vile smattering of the language of the
Fatherland by one of these rascally Englishmen. So all communication
between the President and the prisoners was to be made through the
medium of the former's secretary.
"You are accused of unlawfully committing acts of espionage against
the imperial defences of Heligoland," announced the secretary.
"Accused, what have you to say?"
"Not guilty," replied Hamerton and Detroit firmly.
There was a few moments' silence, broken only by the scratching of a
pen as the secretary recorded the replies.
"What is your name?"
"John Ambrose Hamerton."
"Your profession, other than that of a spy."
"I am not a spy," declared the Sub forcibly.
"Your occupation, then?"
"Sub-Lieutenant of His Britannic Majesty's Navy."
"Ach!" ejaculated Von Wittelsbach, rubbing his hands. "Good! Look up
his record, Herr Schwalbe."
The lieutenant took down a leather-bound volume, and Hamerton was
somewhat surprised to hear the record of his various appointments
read out.
A shade of disappointment flitted over the commandant's face when he
heard that the whole of the prisoner's sea time had been spent on
tropical stations. He had hoped that this English officer belonged to
one of the ships of the Home Fleet.
"And your name?" demanded Von Wittelsbach through his secretary,
addressing the American.
"Oswald P. Detroit, aged nineteen, American citizen, native of
Richmond, Virginia, U.S.A. Say, my man, any further information you
may require will be trotted out with the utmost celerity."
The secretary stared, unable to grasp the full meaning of the
verbosity of the accused. Lieutenant Schwalbe turned and whispered
into the President's ear.
"An American?" repeated Von Wittelsbach, hardly able to master his
surprise. "Are you certain?"
Receiving an affirmative reply, the President leant back in his
armchair and reflectively stroked his moustache. Here was a new
phase, one that he had not bargained for.
It did not take him long to make up his mind.
"Remove the accused," he ordered. "The evidence for the prosecution
is not yet complete. Inform them that they must be kept in
confinement till Friday next."
"I presume we will be given an opportunity of communicating with our
friends?" asked Hamerton.
For the first time Von Wittelsbach replied to the prisoner direct.
"No," he replied; "spies are not entitled to any consideration of
that description. What news we think fit to give to your friends in
England--and America--will be imparted in due course. Marines, remove
the accused."
General Heinrich von Wittelsbach waited till the sound of the
retiring file of marines had ceased. He was still pondering over the
scheme that had suddenly suggested itself. His subordinates, knowing
his fiery disposition, stood motionless, waiting for their commandant
to speak.
"Schwalbe," he exclaimed at length, "has the yacht been carefully
examined?"
"Lieutenant Dort is still on board, sir."
"Have a signal made for him to come ashore immediately."
"Very good, sir," replied the lieutenant, showing remarkable energy
as he made for the door.
"Now, Von Schloss," continued the commandant, as soon as Schwalbe had
taken his departure. "We will discuss this matter. I may as well
mention that I had no idea that one of the prisoners was an American
subject. You think his statement is correct?"
"It may not be, sir."
[Illustration: "'SPIES ARE NOT ENTITLED TO ANY CONSIDERATION OF THAT
DESCRIPTION'"]
"The best thing we can do is to proceed with the case against both
prisoners. To release one would be prejudicial to the interest of the
Fatherland, even though he be an American--which I doubt."
"What, then, sir, do you propose to do to satisfy any enquiries on
the part of the United States Ambassador at Berlin? There is bound to
be an outcry; these Americans are so upset over little trifles."
"There I agree, Herr Major. You say that the prisoners have not given
their names to anyone belonging to the garrison before appearing
here? No? Ach! I have it. Of course they are spies?"
"Undoubtedly, sir. The mere fact that they came in under cover of
night, evaded our patrol boats, and brought up close to our latest
submarines is suspicious. Add to that the fact that they hoisted no
ensign and made no attempt to communicate with the harbour officials,
and the case is as clear as daylight."
"Rutter," said the general, addressing his secretary, "what names did
the accused give?"
"John Ambrose Hamerton and Oswald P. Detroit, sir."
"That is a mistake. Cross the names from your notebook. Now tell me a
common English name."
"Smith, sir."
"Then enter the names of the prisoners as John and Wilhelm Smith,
brothers, of London."
"John and William Smith, sir," corrected the secretary, and without
evincing the faintest surprise he made the alterations according to
the commandant's directions.
"But the yacht, sir?" expostulated Major Von Schloss, who was
beginning to see the drift of his superior's plan.
"That I have not overlooked, Herr Major. Wait until Lieutenant
Schwalbe returns. Meanwhile, Rutter, let me have those papers for
signature."
The secretary handed his chief a bundle of documents, and stood ready
with a blotter. Von Wittelsbach did not shirk his work. Unlike many
highly-paid British Government officials, who perfunctorily place
their signatures to documents while hardly condescending to acquaint
themselves with the nature of their contents, the commandant
carefully read every paper before putting his signature to it.
At the same time he was no blind devotee of red-tapism. Amongst that
pile of papers there was not one that could be regarded as purely
formal; every one had some direct bearing upon the vast establishment
under his command.
Before this particular task was completed Lieutenant Schwalbe
returned, accompanied by Lieutenant Dort, the officer who had been
left in charge of the _Diomeda_. Seeing their superior engaged, they
drew themselves up and stood stiffly at attention till the last
signature had been written and the documents handed back to the
secretary.
"Well, Herr Dort, any evidence?"
"I have had the yacht ransacked, sir, and nothing incriminating has
been found."
"Nothing, sir?" said the commandant meaningly.
"Unless I except the charts--they're useless as far as the defences
of the island are concerned--a telescope, and a camera."
"Camera? Any plates or films exposed?"
"There were four films out of the twelve exposed, sir."
"Have you had them developed?"
"Yes, sir, they will be dry in less than half an hour; but the views
are only of some English and Dutch fishing boats."
"And, Herr Dort, another matter. Have all traces of your search on
board the yacht removed, and make all snug. Directly it becomes night
detail a torpedo boat to tow this craft towards Norderney Gat. When
within a league or so of the lightship cut the yacht adrift."
"And scuttle her, sir?"
"No," replied the commandant after a moment's reflection. "No; only
cast her adrift with all sail set. Report to me in the morning. Now,
Major, you see what I am aiming at, and what I mean to carry out?"
"Yes, sir," replied Von Schloss.
"Then draw up a report to the effect that two Englishmen, John and
William Smith, were detected in the act of spying upon the
fortifications of Heligoland. Give a description as different as
possible of the prisoners, and any other details that may tend to
remove suspicion as to their actual identity. Have the report
telegraphed to Berlin, and say I propose to deal with the accused by
virtue of the power vested in me by the recent Imperial decree. Send
a similar dispatch to Reuter's agent, and the news will be all over
the world in less than half an hour from its receipt. I think this
plan will suit admirably; do not you, Herr Major?"
"But the prisoners, sir?" asked Von Schloss, who, although the task
was repugnant to him, had no option but to obey orders. "How long do
you propose to keep them in detention?"
"A matter of two years. Ere then will come 'The Day'. After that it
matters little whether this John Hamerton be John Smith or otherwise.
Now, gentlemen, you know your orders; above all, impress upon every
man in this affair the utmost importance of secrecy and reticence.
Tell them to spread the report that the two Englishmen are to be
released to-night and taken clear of the island in their yacht by one
of our torpedo boats. Decide upon the details between yourselves, but
in any case report to me early to-morrow morning."