CHAPTER XIII. JENNIE INDULGES IN TEA AND GOSSIP.

On Thursday afternoon there was a brilliant assemblage in the spacious

salon of the Princess von Steinheimer. The rich attire of the ladies

formed a series of kinetographic pictures that were dazzling, for

Viennese women are adepts in the art of dress, as are their Parisian

sisters. Tea was served, not in cups and saucers, as Jennie had been

accustomed to seeing it handed round, but in goblets of clear, thin

Venetian glass, each set in a holder of encrusted filigree gold. There

were all manner of delicious cakes, for which the city is celebrated.

The tea itself had come overland through Russia from China and had not

suffered the deterioration which an ocean voyage produces. The decoction

was served clear, with sugar if desired, and a slice of lemon, and

Jennie thought it the most delicious brew she had ever tasted.

“I am so sorry,” whispered the Princess to Jennie when an opportunity

occurred, “but the Countess Stron has sent a messenger to say that she

cannot be present this afternoon. It seems her husband, the Premier,

is ill, and she, like a good wife, remains at home to nurse him. This

rather upsets our plans, doesn’t it?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” replied Jennie. “It is more than likely that the

wife of the Premier would be exceedingly careful not to discuss any

political question in this company. I have counted more upon the wife of

a lesser official than upon the Countess Stron.”

“You are right,” said the Princess, “and now come with me. I want to

introduce you to the wife of the Master of the Treasury, and from her,

perhaps, you can learn something of the accident that befell the lover

of poor Gretlich.”

The wife of the Master of the Treasury proved to be a garrulous old lady

who evidently prided herself on knowing everything that was taking place

about her. Jennie and she became quite confidential over their goblets

of tea, a beverage of which the old lady seemed inordinately fond. As

the conversation between them drifted on, Jennie saw that here was a

person who would take a delight in telling everything she knew, and

the only question which now arose was whether she knew anything Jennie

wished to learn. But before she tried her on high politics the girl

determined to find out more about the disaster that had made such an

abrupt ending to Gretlich’s young dream.

“I have been very much interested,” she said, “in one of the maids here

who lost her lover some weeks ago in an accident that occurred in the

Treasury. The maid doesn’t seem to know very much about what happened,

and was merely told that her lover, a soldier who had been on guard

there that night, was dead.”

“Oh, dear, yes!” whispered the old lady, lowering her voice, “what a

dreadful thing that was, four men killed and eight or nine now in the

hospital. My poor husband has had hardly a wink of sleep since the

event, and the Premier is ill in bed through the worry.”

“Because of the loss of life?” asked Jennie innocently.

“Oh, no, no! the loss of life wouldn’t matter; it is the loss of the

money that is the serious thing, and how they are going to replace it or

account for its disappearance I am sure I don’t know. The deficiency is

something over two hundred million florins. Was it not awful?”

“Was the building shattered to such an extent?” inquired Jennie, who did

not stop to think that such a sum would replace any edifice in Vienna,

even if it had been wiped off the face of the earth.

“The Treasury was damaged, of course, but the cost of repairs will not

be great. No, my child, it is a much more disturbing affair than the

destruction of any state house in the Empire. What has made the Premier

ill, and what is worrying my poor husband into an untimely grave, is

nothing less than the loss of the war chest.”

“The war chest!” echoed Jennie, “what is that?”

“My dear, every great nation has a war chest. England has one, so has

France, Germany, Russia--no matter how poor a nation may be, or how

difficult it is to collect the taxes, that nation must have a war

chest. If war were to break out suddenly, even with the most prosperous

country, there would be instant financial panic; ready money would be

difficult to obtain; a loan would be practically impossible; and what

war calls for the very instant it is declared is money--not promises

of money, not paper money, not silver money even, but gold; therefore,

every nation which is in danger of war has a store of gold coin. This

store is not composed mainly, or even largely, of the coins of the

nation which owns the store; it consists of the sovereigns of England,

the louis of France, the Willems d’or of Holland, the eight-florin

pieces of Austria, the double-crown of Germany, the half-imperials of

Russia, the double-Frederics of Denmark, and so on. All gold, gold,

gold! I believe that in the war chest of Austria there were deposited

coins of different nations to the value of something like two hundred

million florins. My husband never told me exactly how much was there,

but sometimes when things looked peaceable there was less money in the

war chest than when there was imminent danger of the European outbreak

which we all fear. The war chest of Austria was in a stone-vaulted room,

one of the strongest dungeons in the Treasury. The public are admitted

into several rooms of the Treasury, but no stranger is ever allowed into

that portion of the building which houses the war chest. This room is

kept under guard night and day. For what happened, my husband feels that

he is in no way to blame, and I don’t think his superiors are inclined

to charge him with neglect of duty. It is a singular thing that the day

before the disaster took place he of his own accord doubled the guard

that watched over the room and also the approaches to it. The war chest

was at its fullest. Never, so he tells me, was there so much money in

the war chest as at that particular time. Something had occurred that in

his opinion called for extra watchfulness, and so he doubled the guard.

But about midnight there was a tremendous explosion. The strong door

communicating with the passage was wrenched from its hinges and flung

outwards into the hallway. It is said that dynamite must have been used,

and that in a very large quantity. Not a vestige of the chest remained

but a few splintered pieces of iron. The four soldiers in the room were

blown literally to pieces, and those in the passage-way were stunned by

the shock. The fact that they were unconscious for some minutes seems

to have given the criminal, whoever he was, his chance of escape. For,

although an instant alarm was sent out, and none but those who had a

right to be on the premises were allowed out of or in the Treasury, yet

no one was caught, nor has anyone been caught up to this day.”

“But the gold, the gold?” cried Jennie eagerly.

“There was not a florin of it left. Every piece has disappeared. It is

at once the most clever and the most gigantic robbery of money that has

taken place within our knowledge.”

“But such a quantity of gold,” said Jennie, “must have been of enormous

weight. Two hundred million florins! Why, that is twenty million pounds,

isn’t it? It would take a regiment of thieves to carry so much away. How

has that been done? And where is the gold concealed?”

“Ah, my child, if you can answer your own questions the Austrian

Government will pay you almost any sum you like to name. The police are

completely baffled. Of course, nothing has been said of this gigantic

robbery; but every exit from Vienna is watched, and not only that, but

each frontier is guarded. What the Government wants, of course, is to

get back its gold, the result of years of taxation, which cannot very

easily be re-levied.”

“And when did this robbery take place?” asked Jennie.

“On the night of the 17th.”

“On the night of the 17th,” repeated the girl, more to herself than to

the voluble old woman; “and it was on the 16th that the Premier made his

war speech.”

“Exactly,” said the old lady, who overheard the remark not intended

for her ears; “and don’t you think there was something striking in the

coincidence?”

“I don’t quite understand. What coincidence?”

“Well, you know the speech of the Premier was against England. It was

not a speech made on the spur of the moment, but was doubtless the

result of many consultations, perhaps with Russia, perhaps with Germany,

or with France--who knows? We have been growing very friendly with

Russia of late; and as England has spies all over the world, doubtless

her Government knew before the speech was made that it was coming; so

the police appear to think that the whole resources of the British

Government were set at the task of crippling Austria at a critical

moment.”

“Surely you don’t mean, madame, that the Government of England would

descend to burglary, robbery--yes, and murder, even, for the poor

soldiers who guarded the treasure were as effectually murdered as if

they had been assassinated in the street? You don’t imagine that the

British Government would stoop to such deeds as these?”

The old lady shook her head wisely.

“By the time you are my age, my dear, and have seen as much of politics

as I have, you will know that Governments stop at nothing to accomplish

their ends. No private association of thieves could have laid such plans

as would have done away with two hundred millions of florins in gold,

unless they had not only ample resources, but also a master brain to

direct them. Nations hesitate at nothing where their interests are

concerned. It was to the interest of no other Empire but England to

deplete Austria at this moment, and see how complete her machinations

are. No nation trusts another, and if Austria had proof that England is

at the bottom of this robbery, she dare not say anything, because her

war chest is empty. Then, again, she cannot allow either Germany or

Russia to know how effectually she has been robbed, for no one could

tell what either of these nations might do under the circumstances. The

Government fears to let even its own people know what has happened. It

is a stroke of vengeance marvellous in its finality. Austria is

crippled for years to come, unless she finds the stolen gold on her own

territory.”

The old lady had worked herself up into such a state of excitement

during her recital that she did not notice that most of her companion

visitors had taken their leave, and when the Princess approached the

two, she arose with some trepidation.

“My dear Princess,” she said, “your tea has been so good, and the

company of your young compatriot has been so charming, that I have done

nothing but chatter, chatter, chatter away about things which should

only be spoken of under one’s breath, and now I must hurry away. May I

venture to hope that you will honour me with your presence at one of my

receptions if I send you a card?”

“I shall be delighted to do so,” replied the Princess, with that

gracious condescension which became her so well.

The garrulous old lady was the last to take her leave, and when the

Princess was left alone with her guest, she cried,--

“Jennie, I have found out absolutely nothing, what have you discovered?”

“Everything!” replied the girl, walking up and down the floor in

excitement over the unearthing of such a bonanza of news.

“You don’t tell me so! Now do sit down and let me know the full

particulars at once.”

When Jennie’s exciting story was finished she said,--

“You see, this robbery explains why the Premier did not follow up his

warlike speech. The police seem to think that England has had a hand in

this robbery, but of course that is absurd.”

“I am not so sure of that,” replied the Princess, taking as she spoke,

the Chicago point of view, and forgetting for the moment her position

among the aristocracy of Europe. “England takes most things it can get

its hands on, and she is not too slow to pick up a gold mine here and

there, so why should she hesitate when the gold is already minted for

her?”

“It is too absurd for argument,” continued Jennie calmly, “so we won’t

talk of that phase of the subject. I must get away to England instantly.

Let us find out when the first train leaves.”

“Nonsense!” protested the Princess; “what do you need to go to England

for? You have seen nothing of Vienna.”

“Oh, I can see Vienna another time; I must get to England with this

account of the robbery.”

“Won’t your paper pay for telegraphing such an important piece of news?

“Oh, yes; there would be no difficulty about that, but I dare not trust

either the post or the telegraph in a case like this. The police are on

the watch.”

“But couldn’t you send it through by a code? My father always used to do

his cabling by code; it saved a lot of money and also kept other people

from knowing what his business was.”

“I have a code, but I hesitate about trusting even to that.”

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said the Princess. “I want you to stay in

Vienna.”

“Oh, I shall return,” said Jennie. “I’ve only just had a taste of this

delightful city. I’ll come right back.”

“I can’t trust you to do anything of the kind. When you get to London

you will stay there. Now here is what I propose, and it will have the

additional advantage of saving your paper a day. We will run down

together into Italy--to Venice; then you can take along your code and

telegraph from there in perfect safety. When that is done you will

return here to Vienna with me. And another thing, you may be sure your

editor will want you to stay right here on the spot to let him know of

any outcome of this sensational _dénouement_.”

“That isn’t a bad idea,” murmured Jennie. “How long will it take us to

get to Venice?”

“I don’t know, but I am sure it will save you hours compared with going

to London. I shall get the exact time for you in a moment.”

Jennie followed the suggestion of the Princess, and together the two

went to the ever-entrancing city of Venice. By the time they reached

there, Jennie had her account written and coded. The long message was

handed in at the telegraph office as soon as the two arrived in Venice.

Jennie also sent the editor a private despatch giving her address in

Venice, and also telling him the reason for sending the telegram from

Italy rather than from Austria or Germany. In the evening she received

a reply from Mr. Hardwick. “This is magnificent,” the telegram said. “I

doubt if anything like it has ever been done before. We will startle

the world to-morrow morning. Please return to Vienna, for, as you have

discovered this much, I am perfectly certain that you will be able to

capture the robbers. Of course all the police and all the papers of

Europe will be on the same scent, but I am sure that you will prove a

match for the whole combination.”

“Oh, dear!” cried Jennie, as she handed the message to her friend. “What

a bothersome world this is; there is no finality about anything. One

piece of work simply leads to another. Here I thought I had earned at

least a good month’s rest, but, instead of that, a further demand is

made upon me. I am like the genii in fairy tales: no sooner is one

apparently impossible task accomplished than another is set.”

“But what a magnificent thing it would be if you could discover the

robber or robbers.”

“Magnificent enough, yes; but that isn’t to be done by inviting a lot of

old women to tea, is it?”

“True, so we shall have to set our wits together in another direction.

I tell you, Jennie, I know I have influence enough to have you made a

member of the special police. Shall I introduce you as from America, and

say that you have made a speciality of solving mysteries? An appointment

to the special police would allow you to have unrestricted entrance to

the secret portion of the Treasury building. You would see the rooms

damaged by the explosion, and you would learn what the police have

discovered. With that knowledge to begin with, we might then do

something towards solving the problem.”

“Madame la Princesse,” cried Jennie enthusiastically, “you are inspired!

The very thing. Let us get back to Vienna.” And accordingly the two

conspirators left Italy by the night train for Austria.

Jennie Baxter, Journalist · 第 13 / 21 章