Like most doors separating rooms in Continental hotels those of the
Univers at Tours were no exception. They were thin, and Hubert,
kneeling with his ear to the crack, could distinctly hear the
conversation between the Cabinet Minister who was passing under the
unassuming name of Emilio Conio.
Apparently His Excellency had only a very limited knowledge of German,
and the pair were therefore speaking in very indifferent French. The
Italian can seldom speak French well.
Very soon Waldron ascertained that the secret meeting had been arranged
in order to discuss a forthcoming army contract for one hundred and
eighty thousand pairs of boots, lucrative, no doubt. Contracts in these
days are always lucrative. There is commission somewhere.
"We have had many tenders," His Excellency said. "Firms in England,
France, and Italy have sent in quotations and samples, in addition to
four German firms, including your own."
"But they are all strangers, Your Excellency, no doubt," replied the
gentleman from Berlin very suavely. "We are not strangers, and the
terms we offer must, I think, commend themselves to you. Our last deal
turned out satisfactory for both sides, did it not?"
"Except that my secretary became suddenly most avaricious."
"By some indiscretion on Your Excellency's part, no doubt. Secretaries
are only hirelings."
"Probably I was foolish," the General laughed. "But as I wrote you, I
think that if I pass an order of this magnitude your firm ought to--
well, they ought to increase its generosity."
"Ah! Excellency, things are cut so terribly fine. You do not know. In
order to compete with those Northampton and Leicester firms we have to
be content with the very slightest margin of profit, and after our
secret commission to you there is really nothing left. We have to live
and pay our people. Besides you tie us down so rigidly to dates of
delivery."
"Unfortunately I am compelled. I cannot show any favour to you, or our
association would at once be detected."
And so, for half an hour, the two men haggled and bargained, until the
General who, from the conversation, had, it seemed, got six thousand
pounds out of a recent contract from army food, grew impatient and said:
"Well, it seems that we cannot do business. I am really sorry. But I
have Menier, of Marseilles, coming to see me here at noon to-morrow. He
will be a little more generous than yourself. I happen to know the
large commissions which you recently paid in Turkey to secure the
contract. So why strangle me--eh?"
"Exactly, m'sieur. But to supply army boots to Turkey and to Italy are
quite different matters. To Turkey one can send any rubbish that will
hang together--soles of millboard, if necessary--for with a little
baksheesh anything will be passed. But in Rome you have your
commission, remember, and those officers of yours cannot be bribed."
"Perhaps it is as well," laughed the General. "What I fear is that if I
sign your contract my secretary will at once suspect commission, and
make a demand upon me--as he did before--the worm!"
"Well, permit me to remark that the sum is a really respectable one, and
if we pay it on receipt of the contract into an English bank to the
account of the Countess Cioni, as before, it cannot be traced to you."
"Ah yes. But my secretary is a very shrewd person. I would have to
give him something--however small."
Again the two men haggled, while Waldron knelt, holding his breath and
listening to the corrupt bargain whereby the Italian Army were to be
supplied with inferior German boots in order that His Excellency, the
Minister of War, should profit. But in most European countries the same
thing is done and winked at.
"If you are to have the contract, Herr Steinberg," the General said
decisively at last, "you must give me an extra half per cent. I will
not sign it without."
"Upon the whole amount?"
"Yes, on the whole amount."
"But the total contract amounts to nearly a million francs."
"Exactly. I gave you the tinned-food contract. It is large, therefore
I require a larger sum for my signature."
There was silence for a few moments.
To Waldron it seemed by the rustle of paper that the German contractor
must be scribbling a rapid sum to see exactly what the commission
amounted to.
"I shall, of course, want the usual sum, twenty-five thousand francs
down and the balance placed to the credit of the Countess in London
seven days after the signed contract is delivered to you in Berlin," His
Excellency said.
"Well," exclaimed the German in dismay at last. "That leaves us so very
little that I really cannot decide it off-hand. I must telegraph at
once to my partner, and will give you a decision to-morrow."
"No, Herr Steinberg," was the General's answer. "I must know now--at
once--yes or no. Personally it would give me greater popularity if I
dealt in France, rather than in Germany. Besides, if I deal with
Menier, my secretary knows nothing. So there is the position. You may
leave or accept my terms--whichever you like. It is quite immaterial to
me."
Again they argued and haggled, the German pleading for time to
communicate with his partner in Berlin, the General quite obdurate. The
latter had much experience of contractors.
At last Herr Steinberg, shrewd business man that he was, seeing that the
General's mind was made up, said: "Very well. I accept your terms."
"Good," answered the General. "I shall sign the contract as soon as I
return to Rome--the day after to-morrow--and send it to you in Berlin by
special messenger."
"Agreed. Perhaps you will write me a letter?"
"At once," was the reply. Then after another brief silence, during
which time both had scribbled some agreement, the German said:
"I think that will suffice."
"And this?" asked the General.
They read each other's letters, expressed satisfaction, and then Waldron
heard a slight click, the opening and shutting of a wallet.
Some notes were counted out--to the sum of one thousand pounds. They
rustled, and the listener knew that they were English notes so that they
could not be traced so easily as those which the unscrupulous German
contractor might withdraw from his own bank in Berlin.
His Excellency counted them, declared the sum to be correct, and then,
after a further brief conversation the German left, His Excellency
remaining so as not to be seen in his company.
The deal was concluded. Though interesting to Hubert, it however
carried him no farther in his inquiry. It proved of course that General
Cataldi, Minister of War, was corrupt and unscrupulous, yet were not the
majority of the men who formed the Cabinet equally ready to accept
bribes?
He stood in that artistically furnished bedroom full of chagrin. He had
practically had his journey there for nothing, and had lost valuable
time by his absence from Rome.
Therefore he slipped out along the corridor, and two hours later was on
his way to Culoz, to catch the _train-de-luxe_ from Paris to Rome.
During that night as the express roared through the mountains he lay in
his narrow sleeping-berth watching the green-shaded lamp above, and full
of conflicting thoughts.
The attempt upon his life showed plainly that the thief was aware of the
strenuous efforts he was making to fathom the mystery. But who was the
thief! Was it this unscrupulous, much-decorated General who took secret
commission of contractors, the man who allowed the army to be fed on
discarded tin food, and go shod in cheap German boots which wore in
holes on the first march, in order to enrich himself?
Long and deeply he thought, and still the conviction clung to him that
the person mainly responsible for the sale of the plans to Austria was
His Excellency himself.
Thoughts of Her Highness rose within him. He sighed. Yes, he loved her
with all his body and soul. Yet that barrier of birth could never be
bridged. After all, they could be only good friends, therefore he had
never dared to declare his love. She was a Princess of the blood-royal
and might marry a reigning Sovereign, but he was a mere diplomat, a
secretary of Embassy, a man whom the Court regarded as the necessary
adjunct of a practically defunct institution, for, however much one may
cling in these days to the old usages and customs, yet the glaring fact
must be faced that kings themselves are the ambassadors, and royal
visits from one Court to another tend to cement more international
friendships than ten years of that narrow little squabbling and
intriguing world which exists in every capital under the name of the
_corps diplomatique_.
The public have been long enough gulled by the false tinsel and glamour
of the diplomatic world, and in these ultra-modern days they see the
inutility of it all. Often an obscure Vice-Consul in an obscure port is
of greater use to the nation than the whole of the red-taped,
ceremonious Embassy, with its splendid house, its dinners and dances,
its flunkeys and furbelows, and its flabby, do-nothing policy directed
from Downing Street.
Hubert Waldron, born and bred in the diplomatic atmosphere and nurtured
upon the squabbles and petty jealousies of international politics, could
not close his eyes to the fact that the public of Europe were being
gulled daily by the Press, and that at an hour when all would seem
quietest and most peaceful, the great and terrible European war would
suddenly break out.
Though at the Embassies you will be told that the peace of Europe is
quite assured nowadays, and though your penny papers with their
"advertised actual sales" will print reassuring leaders for the sake of
the particular party who supports them, yet there is not a diplomat in
all Europe who does not, in his own heart, fear a violent and bloody
explosion and that brought about by the Dual Monarchy.
Though this view may appear pessimistic, it is nevertheless a hard fact
that the Powers of the Triple Alliance have not signed any agreements
relating to the Mediterranean, and more than one European throne is
to-day tottering to its fall, nay, more than one nation may, at any
moment, be erased from the map.
But the whole object of diplomacy is to reassure, not to alarm. The
days when the greatest international tension exists are those when the
outlook seems the most serene and unruffled.
In our present century war breaks out; it is not declared. And war in
Europe may break out at any moment, even though much is said of the
solidity of the Triple Alliance.
On arrival at the great echoing station at Rome, Hubert descended, tired
and fagged, and took a taxi home.
It was then nine o'clock in the morning, and Peters, surprised to see
him, handed him a letter which had been left on the previous night. On
opening it he found it was from Ghelardi, dated from the Bureau of
Secret Police, and asking when he could see him.
At this request he was somewhat surprised in view of what had already
passed between them, nevertheless he spoke to the functionary on the
telephone at his private house and at eleven o'clock entered his private
room at the Ministry.
Their greeting was the reverse of cordial. Indeed Hubert had at first
hesitated to meet him at all, yet he thought that the object of the
interview might concern the unfortunate incident in the Palace; hence he
went, determined to still show a bold front.
"I regret, Signor Waldron, to have disturbed you," the crafty old man
said when his visitor was seated. "But it has been reported to me that
the other night you were attacked by two individuals, and that you
narrowly escaped with your life--that you shot and wounded both your
assailants."
The policeman had, notwithstanding the bribe, evidently made a report in
order to show his watchfulness to his superior. Hubert frowned in
annoyance.
"Oh, it was nothing at all," he declared, laughing. "I had quite
forgotten all about it. They were merely footpads, I suppose. No
further notice need be taken of them."
"Ah! but they are very dangerous characters, and well-known in Rome," he
said. Then, looking straight at him the old man with the bristly hair
said in a curious, half-suspicious voice: "You appear, Signor Waldron,
to have some rather bitter enemies in Rome--eh?"
"I was not aware of it," answered the diplomat. "If I have it does not
trouble me in the least. I am perfectly able to defend myself."
"They are secret enemies, it seems," Ghelardi said slowly, looking at
his visitor meaningly.
Hubert did not reply for a few moments. At last he said:
"And they include yourself, Signor Commendatore."
The cunning old fellow smiled.
"Ah, you are referring, I suppose, to that incident of the other night.
Well, I think we may surely let that pass. We all of us have our hours
of irresponsibility," and he slowly twisted the diamond ring around his
little finger, laughing lightly.
"Thank you. I have no desire for your covert sneers, Signor
Commendatore," he said angrily, rising. "As I have told you--you are my
secret enemy, and I shall treat you as such."
"It is rather a pity that you do so."
"A pity--why?"
"For the sake of Her Royal Highness."
"Her name need not enter into our discussion," Hubert said hotly, his
hand upon the door ready to leave. "I do not see your object in
troubling me to come here, merely to tell me of the attack made upon me
by two criminals which the police should already have under lock and
key. It is not much to the credit of the department that the streets of
Rome are unsafe at night."
"Ah! my dear signore, you are a little too impatient, I fear," replied
the chief of spies, quite undisturbed. "I was about to prove to you my
friendliness."
"I desire none of your friendship," declared the Englishman hotly. "And
I tell you that I will not have you mention the name of the Princess
Luisa in connection with my own."
"Friendships formed by Her Royal Highness are frequently unfortunate."
"Are they!" exclaimed Waldron, his eyes aflame. "If you were younger,
Signor Commendatore, I would knock you down for your gratuitous insult.
As it is, I shall not forget it. _Buon giorno_!"
And he left the room, slamming the door after him.