COUNCIL OF WAR
When Paris opened her eyes on the morning of Thursday, the twelfth of
October, it was to rejoice at one of those soft and beautiful days of
autumn which make of every house a dungeon to be escaped at the first
possible moment. Even as early as nine o'clock, a perceptible tide had
set in toward the Bois de Boulogne, or, rather, innumerable little
tides, which converged at the Place de la Concorde and rolled on along
the Champs-Elysees in one mighty torrent.
Against this torrent, a sturdy and energetic figure fought its way
across the square; a figure carefully arrayed in black morning-coat and
grey trousers, and looking alertly about with a pair of very bright eyes
magnified by heavy glasses. The haughtiest of the carriage-crowd felt
honoured by his bow, for it was none other than that great diplomat,
Theophile Delcasse, Minister of Marine.
M. Delcasse was not in the habit of being abroad so early; it was a full
hour before his usual time; but he had an appointment to keep which he
regarded as most important, so he strode rapidly across the square,
entered the handsome building to the north of it, and mounted to the
first floor, where, on the corner overlooking the square on one side and
the Rue Royale on the other, he had his office.
Early as it was, he found awaiting him the man whom he wished to see--a
thin wisp of a man, with straggling white beard and a shock of white
hair and a face no wider than one's hand, but lighted by the keenest
eyes in the world--in a word, Louis Jean Baptiste Lepine, Prefect of
Police, to whom full justice has not been done in this story--nor in any
other. M. Lepine had not found the hour early; to him, all hours were
the same, for he was a man who slept only when he found the time, which
was often not at all.
"Good morning, my dear Prefect," said Delcasse, drawing off his gloves.
"I trust I have not kept you waiting?"
"I but just arrived," Lepine assured him; "and I know of no better place
to pass one's idle moments than at this window of yours."
Beyond it stretched the great square, with its obelisk and circle of
statues, its pavilions and balustrades; beautiful now, and peaceful, but
peopled with ghastly memories--for it was here the Revolution set up its
guillotine, and it was here that some four thousand men and women, high
and low, looked their last upon this earth, mounted the scaffold and
passed under the knife. Surely, if any spot on earth be haunted, it is
this!
Something of this, perhaps, was in the minds of these two men, as they
stood for a moment looking down into the square, for their faces were
very thoughtful; then Delcasse's eyes travelled from one to another of
the heroic figures representing the great towns of France--Lyons,
Marseilles, Brest, Rouen, Bordeaux, Nantes, Lille--and came to rest upon
the last one, Strasbourg, hung with black and piled with mourning
garlands, in memory of the lost Alsace. Every morning, before he turned
to the day's work, M. Delcasse, standing at this window, gazed at that
statue, while he registered anew the vow that those garlands should one
day be replaced by wreaths of victory! That vow was his orison.
His lips moved silently as he made it now, then he turned to his desk.
"Be seated, my dear Lepine," he said. "I have much to discuss with you,
as you may guess. First about _La Liberte_. My Board of Inquiry will be
ready to report by Saturday. It has decided that the explosion was
caused by the spontaneous combustion of the 'B' powder, as was the case
with the _Jena_."
"That theory will do as well as any other," said Lepine, curtly. "But
you and I know that it is not the true one."
Delcasse looked at him quickly.
"Have you any news?" he asked.
"None," answered Lepine, with a frown. "The man we sought has vanished
as completely as though the earth had swallowed him. I have found no
trace of him since he left the office of the Messrs. Cook, with two
passages for America in his pocket. I cannot understand it."
"Have the tickets been returned?"
"They have not been returned, and the Messrs. Cook, making inquiry at my
suggestion, have a report from the steamship company that they have not
been used."
Delcasse turned this over in his mind.
"Perhaps the man and his daughter have met with some accident."
"We should have heard of it," Lepine objected. "I have scrutinised every
report--viewed every body which at all resembled him."
"Then," said Delcasse, "he has been suppressed, as one who knew too
much."
"My own opinion is," said the Prefect, "that he has sought refuge in
Germany, until he can prepare for another demonstration against France."
The Minister moved uneasily in his chair.
"I have thought of that," he said, "and I am doing everything I can to
render such an attempt impossible--but it is a hard task--one can never
be sure. There is another thing I wished to ask you. Where is
Crochard?"
"I do not know, sir. I have not seen him since that morning at Toulon
when we parted outside the Hotel du Nord."
"Then he, too, has disappeared?"
"Yes, sir, completely."
"Has it never occurred to you, Lepine, to connect these two
disappearances?"
"Yes, I did connect them. You will remember in the note he left for me
he stated that he hoped soon to have some good news for us. But when
more than two weeks elapse and we hear nothing, I am forced to conclude
that he, too, has been baffled."
"Yes, it was for me a hope, also--almost my only one," said Delcasse. "I
did not believe that he could fail. And if he has failed, do you know
what it means for France, Lepine? It means destruction. Oh, I have spent
sleepless nights, I have racked my brain! Germany's attitude is that of
a nation which desires war and which is ready to provoke it. You know,
of course, how strained the situation is?"
"About Morocco?"
"Yes. It has come to this: France and Germany are like two duellists,
face to face, sword in hand. Either they must fight, or one must
retreat--and with dishonour!"
"France cannot retreat," murmured Lepine.
"I have said the same thing a hundred times; and yet, at the bottom of
my heart, I know we cannot fight--not while this cloud of uncertainty
hangs over us. To fight, with this power in the hands of Germany, would
mean more than defeat--it would mean annihilation. There would be other
statues to be draped with black!"
Delcasse's face was livid; he removed his glasses and polished them with
a shaking hand, and, for the first time, Lepine saw his bloodshot eyes.
Delcasse noticed his glance, and laughed grimly.
"Only to you, Lepine, do I dare to show them," he said. "Before others,
I must crush this fear in my heart, bite it back from my lips; I must
appear unconcerned, confident of the issue. Only to you may I speak
freely. That is one reason I called you here. I felt that I _must_ speak
with some one. Lepine, I foresee for France a great humiliation."
Lepine looked at his companion with real concern.
"You exaggerate," he said. "You have been brooding over it too long."
Delcasse shook his head.
"I do not exaggerate. This thing is so terrible that it cannot be
exaggerated. Even at this moment, Germany is preparing the blow. For the
past week, she has been extraordinarily active. Her fleets have coaled
hurriedly and put out to sea--for manoeuvres, it is said; but this is
not the season for manoeuvres. Her shipyards have been cleared of all
civilians, and a cordon of troops posted about each one. The garrison of
every fortress along the frontier has been at least doubled, and the
most rigid patrol established. The police regulations are being enforced
with the greatest severity. Every city of the frontier swarms with
spies; even here in Paris we are not safe from them--my desk was rifled
two nights ago. I live in dread that any day, any hour, may bring the
news of some fresh disaster!"
"And do our men learn nothing?"
"Nothing! Nothing! All they can tell me is that something is preparing,
some blow, some surprise. Whatever the secret, it is well kept; so well
that it can be known only to the Emperor and one or two of his
ministers. We have tried every means, we have exhausted every resource,
all in vain. We know, in part, what is being done; of the purpose back
of it we know nothing. But we can guess--the purpose is war; it can be
nothing else!"
Lepine sat silent and contemplated the rugged face opposite him--the
face which told by its lined forehead, its worried eyes, its savage
mouth, of the struggles, rebuffs, and disappointments of thirty years.
Always, out of disaster, this man had risen unconquered. Upon his
shoulders now was placed the whole of this terrific burden. He alone, of
the whole cabinet, was fit to bear it; beside him, the others were mere
pigmies: Premier Caillaux, an amiable financier; Foreign Minister de
Selves, a charming amateur of the fine arts; War Minister Messimy, an
obscure army officer with a love for uniforms; Minister of Commerce
Couyba, a minor poet, tainted with decadence--above all these, Delcasse
loomed as a Gulliver among Lilliputians. But greatness has its
penalties. While the Minister of Foreign Affairs spent his days in
collecting plaques, and the Minister of War his in strutting about the
boulevards, and the Minister of Commerce his in composing verses,
Delcasse laboured to save his country--laboured as a colossus labours,
sweating, panting, throwing every fibre of his being into the
struggle--which was all the more trying, all the more terrific, because
he felt that it must go against him!
"What would you suggest, Lepine?" Delcasse asked, at last. "Is there any
source of information which you can try?"
Lepine shook his head doubtfully.
"It is not a question of expense," Delcasse went on, rapidly. "A million
francs would not be too much to pay for definite information. We have
spent that already! We have had a Prince babbling in his cups; we have
had I know not how many admirals and generals and diplomats confiding
in their suddenly complaisant mistresses; we have searched their hearts,
shaken them inside out--but they know nothing. Such and such orders have
been issued; they obey the orders, but they do not know their purpose.
They all talk war, shout war--Germany seems mad for war--and the
government encourages them. Their inspired journals assert over and over
that Germany cannot recede--that its position is final--that hereafter
it must be paramount in Morocco. And to-day--or to-morrow at the
latest--France must send her ultimatum."
"What will it be?"
"God knows!" and Delcasse tugged at his ragged moustache. "If it were
not for one thing, Lepine, I should not hesitate, I should not fear war.
France is ready, and England is at least sympathetic. But there is _La
Liberte_. What if Germany can treat our other battleships as she treated
that one? Yes, and England's, too! And if our battleships, why not our
forts, our arsenals ... Lepine," and Delcasse's lips were twitching, "I
say to you frankly that, for the first time in my life, I have fear!" He
fell a moment silent, playing nervously with a paper-knife he had
snatched up from his desk. "What would you suggest?" he asked again.
And again Lepine shook his head.
"What _can_ I suggest!" he protested. "Where you have failed, what is
there I can do?"
The knife snapped in Delcasse's fingers, and he hurled the fragments to
the floor.
"There is one thing you can do," he said. "Find Crochard and bring him
to me."
Lepine arose instantly.
"I will do my best," he said, reaching for his hat. "If he is in France,
rest assured...."
There was a tap at the door, and it opened softly.
"I am not to be disturbed!" snapped the Minister, and then he stopped,
staring.
For there appeared on the threshold the immaculate figure, the charming
and yet impressive countenance, for a sight of which the great Minister
had been longing; and then his heart leaped suffocatingly, for with the
first figure was a second--a man with white hair and flaming eyes and
thin, eager face....
As Delcasse sprang to his feet, Crochard stepped forward.
"M. Delcasse," he said, "it gives me great pleasure to introduce to you
a gentleman whom I know you will be most glad to meet----Ignace Vard."