ON THE TRACK
As the really exciting moment of the protracted struggle drew near, I
summoned all my energies to meet it.
I alighted in Berlin armed only with two weapons, the passport made
out in the name of Petrovitch, and a fairly accurate knowledge of the
schemes, or at all events the hopes, of the German Government.
From the first beginning of my long investigation, all the clues I
had picked up had led steadily in one direction.
The great disorganized Empire of the Czar's, with its feeble-willed
autocrat, its insubordinate grand dukes, its rival ministers pulling
different ways, and its greedy officials whose country was their
pocket, had been silently and steadily enfolded in the invisible web
of German statecraft.
The brilliant personality of Wilhelm II had magnetized the
vacillating, timorous Nicholas. Count Bülow had courted the Russian
Foreign Office with the assiduous arts of a lover, and his wooing had
been crowned by complete success. Through Petrovitch the grand dukes
had been indirectly bribed, and the smaller fry like M. Auguste had
been bought outright. Even the Army and Navy had been cajoled, or
bought, or terrorized by pretended revelations of Japanese designs.
Russia had become a supple implement in the hands of the German
Kaiser, the sovereign who for nearly twenty years had been striving
toward one goal by a hundred different crooked paths.
It was evident that the unexplained disappearance of Petrovitch must
have struck consternation into his employers. I suspected that the
Princess Y---- had been summoned to Berlin to throw light on the
event, and possibly to be furnished with instructions which would
enable her to take over the dead man's work.
My position was now peculiarly difficult. I wished to get in touch
with the principals for whom Petrovitch had acted, but to avoid, if
possible, meeting any one who had known him personally.
Above all, I was determined not to risk an encounter with Sophia. She
knew that I was still alive, and I feared that her feminine
intuition, quickened by love, would penetrate through whatever
disguise I might adopt.
Under these circumstances I decided to begin by approaching Herr
Finkelstein, the head of the imperial Secret Service in Berlin.
This man was an old crony of mine. While a magnificent organizer of
espionage, he was a poor observer himself, and I had already
succeeded on one occasion in imposing myself on him under a false
identity.
I had brought with me the papers which I had obtained by bribery from
the police agent Rostoy, representing me as an inspector in the
secret police of the Russian Empire.
Wearing my pilot's dress, but carrying these and other papers in my
pocket, I presented myself at Finkelstein's office, and asked to see
him.
I was shown in first, as I had expected, to Finkelstein's secretary,
who asked me my business.
"I can tell that only to the Herr Superintendent himself," I said.
"If you will let him know that I have just come from Petersburg, I am
sure he will receive me."
The secretary seemed to think so too. He went straight into his
chief's room and came out immediately to fetch me in.
As soon as I found myself alone with the head of the German service,
I said quietly,
"I have brought you a message from M. Petrovitch."
"Petrovitch!" exclaimed the Superintendent, surprised out of his
usual caution. "But he is dead!"
"You have been misinformed," I replied in an assured tone.
Finkelstein looked at me searchingly.
"My informant does not often make mistakes," he observed.
"The Princess is deceived this time, however," was my retort.
It was a fresh surprise for the Superintendent.
"The Princess! Then you know?" He broke off short, conscious that he
was making an admission.
"The Princess Y---- having left Petersburg, it was natural to suppose
that she had come here to consult you," I answered modestly, not
wishing to appear too well informed.
Finkelstein frowned.
"You have not yet told me who you are," he reminded me.
I produced the forged papers.
"I am an inspector attached to the Third Section, as you will see. I
must inform you, however, that I am not here with the knowledge of my
superiors."
The German gave a glance at the papers, which were similar to others
which he must have had presented to him from time to time.
"That is all satisfactory," he said, as he returned them to me. "But
you say that you have a message from M. Petrovitch?"
"He had no opportunity of giving me any but this," I responded,
producing the passport.
This time Finkelstein seemed really satisfied.
"It is clear that you know something about him, at least," he
remarked. "I will listen to what you have to say."
"M. Petrovitch is confined in Schlüsselburg."
The name of the dreaded fortress, the last home of so many political
prisoners, caused Finkelstein a shock.
"_Gott im Himmel!_ You don't say so! How did he get there? Tell me
everything."
"He does not know from what quarter the blow came. The only person he
can think of who might have denounced him is the Princess herself."
"The Princess Y----?"
"Exactly."
The German looked incredulous.
"But they were hand in glove. The Princess was his best agent."
"True. Unfortunately there is always one source of danger where a
woman is concerned--she cannot control her affections. It appears
that M. Petrovitch ordered her to remove a certain Englishman, a spy
of some kind, who was giving trouble, and Madame Y---- was attached
to the fellow. She carried out her orders, but M. Petrovitch fears
that she has taken revenge on him."
Finkelstein gave a superior smile.
"I can dispose of that suspicion," he said confidently. "The
Princess did _not_ carry out her orders. The man you speak of--who is
the most dangerous and unprincipled scoundrel in the world--has
escaped, and we have lost all trace of him."
It was my turn to show surprise and alarm.
"What you tell me is appalling! I ought to see the Princess as soon
as possible. If what she says is true, it must be the Englishman who
has brought about Petrovitch's arrest."
"He is no Englishman," the Superintendent returned. "He is an
American, a Pole, a Frenchman, whatever you please. That man has been
at the bottom of all the troubles in Europe for the last twenty
years. I have employed him myself, sometimes, so I ought to know
something about him."
I listened with an interest that was not feigned to this character of
myself. It was, all the same, a lie that Finkelstein had ever
employed me; on the contrary, I had been called in by his imperial
master to check his work.
"Then what is to be done?" I asked, as the German finished speaking.
"M. Petrovitch sent me here to warn you against the Princess, and to
demand your influence to secure his release."
"That will be a difficult matter. I shall have to consult the
Minister. In the meantime, where can I find you?"
I mentioned the name of a hotel.
"And the Princess Y----? Where can I see her?"
"I expect that she has left for Kiel," said the Superintendent. "She
has volunteered to carry out the plan originally proposed by
Petrovitch."
"Then in that case you will not require my services?" I said, with an
air of being disappointed. "M. Petrovitch thought you might find me
useful in his place."
"I must consult others before I can say anything as to that," was the
cautious reply.
He added rather grudgingly,
"I did not know M. Petrovitch myself, you see. It was thought better
that he should not come to Berlin."
This statement relieved me of a great anxiety. I now saw my way to
take a bolder line.
"So I understood, sir. But I did not venture to approach his majesty
except through you."
Finkelstein started again, and gave me a new look of curiosity.
"Who authorized you to mention the Emperor?"
I tried to play the part of a man who has made an unintentional slip.
"I spoke too quickly. Petrovitch informed me--that is to say, I
supposed--" I broke down in feigned confusion.
I knew inquisitiveness to be the Superintendent's besetting sin,
and, up to a certain point, I had an interest in tempting him on.
"You appear to be more in the confidence of M. Petrovitch than you
are willing to admit," he said sagely. "Up to the present you have
not explained how he came to make you his messenger."
I leaned back with a faint smile.
"I imagine you are quite astute enough to guess my secret, if you
choose, Herr Finkelstein. But you must excuse me if I am a little
careful whom I trust, especially after the behavior of Princess
Y----."
"You are M. Petrovitch himself! Of course! I thought as much all
along," Finkelstein said with a smile of triumph. "Well, you are
certainly right to be cautious; but, as you see, it is not easy to
deceive an old hand like myself."
"At all events you will be at least equally cautious, I hope. What
you tell me about this international spy being still at large has
disturbed me a good deal, I confess."
"Make your mind easy," the German returned with a patronizing air.
"We are in Berlin here, not in Petersburg. This gentleman will not
venture within my reach, I assure you."
I professed every satisfaction with this guarantee, and took my
leave.