The office door was closed and Jimmy heard the key turn in the lock.
Rosencrantz offered his guests chairs, and then apparently seated
himself at his writing-desk. Of the conversation that ensued Jimmy
could hear every word, for the cupboard door was thin and von Essling,
who did most of the talking, had a deep, resounding voice.
The plot that was unfolded, word by word, was amazing and colossal. It
was so cold-blooded and terrible, and was intended to be so far-reaching
in its results, that the boy could hardly bring himself to believe the
evidence of his ears. Time and again, he had to pinch himself, to make
sure that the whole thing was not a nightmare from which he would
presently awaken.
It must be remembered that at that time the tragedy of Serajevo had not
taken place. Europe and, indeed, the whole world--was at peace.
Official Germany was even then talking of friendly relations with
England.
And yet, it appeared, from what the Baron had to say, that Germany
intended to plunge the whole of Europe into war. By the first of
August, the German legions would be on the march, crossing the frontiers
of France on the very day that they swept down upon Paris in
1870--forty-four years ago.
France was to be crushed, and would be crushed--according to von
Essling--after six weeks of war. Russia would take time to concentrate
her forces; and after Paris had fallen, the German armies could be
transferred to the east, where the fall of Warsaw would checkmate the
Russian armies till the conclusion of the campaign. When peace had been
declared, and the German Empire extended to the North Sea and the great
port of Antwerp, a fitting moment was to be seized to throttle England
and break up the British Empire, once and for all.
This--as the Baron explained--was the main policy of all true
Pan-Germans. Not until Great Britain had crumbled to the dust, could
Germany realize to the full her dreams of World-Power and
World-Dominion. England stood between Germany and the sun.
"I tell you, my friends," von Essling almost shouted; "I tell you, the
blow will fall with alarming suddenness. The declaration of war will
come like a thunderbolt. We are ready; France and Russia are
unprepared; it is impossible that England will dare to interfere."
"That is good," cried Rudolf Stork. "I have no love for the English,
who encumber the face of the earth like a plague of flies. None the
less, I fail to see why a plain sea-faring man like myself should be
taken into your confidence."
"It so happens," said Rosencrantz, "that you are the very man we want.
In the first place, though you call yourself a Dutchman, you are German
born, as I know very well, and can be trusted. Also, you know the
world; you can speak four languages--German, French, English and Dutch.
Moreover, you were once an actor; you should know how to disguise
yourself, to play several minor parts in this great drama which is about
to astonish the world."
Stork gave a grunt of disapproval.
"It seems to me," he said, "you know too much about me."
"I know more than that," said the other. "I know that you are an
ex-convict, and even now are wanted by the police. However, you have
nothing to fear; I intend to keep my knowledge to myself. The Baron
himself will explain exactly what you will be required to do."
Once again, von Essling took up the thread of this ruthless world-wide
plot. In order to hasten the decomposition of what he called the
already-tottering British Empire, rebellion must be stirred up in the
British colonies. The seeds of sedition must be sown broadcast, in
India, in South Africa and Egypt.
Here, it appeared, both Rosencrantz and Rudolf Stork could be of the
greatest assistance. According to von Essling there was little or no
risk, and they might count upon being well paid. "The German Emperor,"
said the Baron, "does not fail to reward those who serve the
Fatherland."
The offices of Rosencrantz and Guildenstern were to be used as a kind of
Secret Service Bureau. Whether or not England joined in the conflict,
the United States would, in any case, remain neutral. From New York,
intelligence could be transmitted direct to Berlin, and _vice versa_.
Von Essling's agents--one of whom was to be Rudolf Stork--acting as
spies in the war area, would transmit, or bring personally, the
information they gathered to Rosencrantz, who would represent the Baron,
who would sift all intelligence, and supervise cyphered telegrams to the
Intelligence Department in the Wilhelmstrasse in Berlin. For the
present absolute secrecy was to be maintained.
Von Essling ended. There was a brief pause, during which Stork spat
upon the floor.
"And may I ask," said he at length, "what guarantee I am to have? I
don't, mind you, say that all this is not true; but, still, business is
business, and no man takes on board a cargo without a manifest, which is
a kind of passport on the sea."
"You are quite right," said the Baron. "I can supply you with
credentials which will instantly dispel such doubts. I have already
entrusted to Mr. Rosencrantz papers of the utmost value, which will
prove to you that we are perfectly sincere, that it will be worth your
while to help us."
It was then that Rosencrantz got to his feet, and shuffled about the
room.
"It so happens," he observed, "that the papers you mention are in a
certain leather box which was given into the charge of my secretary."
Von Essling gave vent to an exclamation of surprise.
"You take grave risks!" said he.
"My dear Baron," replied the other, "the girl can be trusted implicitly.
And besides, she is totally ignorant of what the box contains."
Von Essling had something else to say, but Stork took him up.
"What happens if I'm caught?" he asked.
"If you succeed," said the Baron, "you will be amply rewarded. You will
be paid according to the value of the information you obtain. But if
you fail the misfortune is yours. We wash our hands of you; we know
nothing whatsoever about you. That is the principle upon which the
Secret Service works."
"I see," said the man. "Whatever I do is at my own risk."
"Precisely," said the Baron.
There was another pause; and then Stork got to his feet.
"I'll do it," said he. "I've every confidence in myself. If you want
my candid opinion, I think I'm the very man for the job."
"Good!" said von Essling. "Self-assurance is essential. And now, there
are a few questions I would like you to answer. Have you ever been to
London? Could you find your own way about in that labyrinth of a city?
It will probably be necessary for you to go there."
"I know London well," said Stork, "from Whitechapel to Hammersmith. At
one time, I played Iago in Shakespeare's play, in a little theatre which
is now pulled down, in the Portobello Road."
"Ah," said the other, "some time in the near future you and I may meet
in London. I have never been there. Though I can both speak and write
English with ease, I have never set foot in England."
"You are likely to leave New York?" asked Rosencrantz.
"Perhaps; I can say nothing for certain. My post here is merely a
blind. I was transferred into the Diplomatic Service from the Secret
Service for reasons of convenience. As a military attache, I have many
opportunities for gleaning information."
Jimmy Burke was only a boy, whose experience of the world was
necessarily somewhat limited. None the less, he was well able to
understand the depth of the perfidy with which he found himself
confronted. The whole thing seemed too villainous to be true. He could
not believe that the modern civilized world was such a hotbed of treason
and deceit--a kind of magnified thieves' kitchen wherein mighty nations
played the part of common footpads.
Indignation and excitement left him breathless. In fact, he was so
astounded and dismayed that he had forgotten his own danger, when
suddenly he was brought back to his senses by the loud slamming of a
door. On the instant, as he recognized the truth, it was as if a blow
had been struck him: Peggy had returned!
He was told afterwards what actually happened. At the time, shut up in
the darkness of the cupboard, fearing to move an inch, almost dreading
to breathe, he was able to see nothing of what took place in the room.
Peggy, with cheeks flushed in the wind, and an armful of small paper
parcels, came swinging along the corridor, tried to open the office
door, and found it locked.
Before she had time to guess what was about to happen, the door was
flung wide open, and she found herself confronted by Rosencrantz and his
companions.
She stood stock-still, speechless and afraid. Her first inclination was
to fly; and the next moment, she found herself wondering what had become
of Jimmy.
Rosencrantz, after the manner of a cat who plays with a mouse, with
extreme politeness ushered her into the room.
"And may I ask," said he, in a soft, oily voice, "may I ask what those
parcels contain?"
Peggy allowed him to take them from her hand. He opened them one by
one. The first contained a packet of cocoa; the next (of all
iniquities!) a bundle of sausages. There was also bread, butter, sugar
and lard.
"I see," said Rosencrantz, "I see. It is not sufficient for me to give
orders; it is not sufficient for me to forbid you to turn my office into
a kitchen and a common eating-house; but you must leave your work the
very moment my back is turned."
"Is this the girl," asked von Essling, "who enjoys a position of trust?"
"I have been mistaken in her," said Rosencrantz. "There can be no doubt
as to that. Where is my attache-case?" he demanded. "Where have you
put the leather box?"
At these words, it seemed to Jimmy that his heart ceased to beat. In
the ordinary course of events, he would have stepped forth boldly, to
share with Peggy the consequence of their joint guilt. As it was, with
this colossal secret on his mind, and knowing full well that his right
foot was resting on the very leather box in question, he was petrified
by fear.
At times of extreme nervous tension, the senses are frequently acute.
Though Peggy's frightened voice came in little above a whisper, Jimmy
was able to hear her words with terrible distinctness.
"It is here, in the cupboard," she said. "I will get it--now."