CHAPTER XXX
THE GATHERING OF THE WAR-STORM
Mr. Sabin, entering his breakfast-room as usual at ten o'clock on thefollowing morning, found, besides the usual pile of newspapers andletters, a telegram, which had arrived too late for delivery on theprevious evening. He opened it in leisurely fashion whilst he sipped hiscoffee. It was handed in at the Charing Cross Post Office, and wassigned simply "K.":--
"Just returned. When can you call and conclude arrangements? Am anxious to see you. Read to-night's paper.--K."
The telegram slipped from Mr. Sabin's fingers. He tore open the _St.James's Gazette_, and a little exclamation escaped from his lips as hesaw the thick black type which headed the principal columns:--
"EXTRAORDINARY TELEGRAM OF THE GERMAN EMPEROR TO MOENIG! GERMAN SYMPATHY WITH THE REBELS! WARSHIPS ORDERED TO DELAMERE BAY! GREAT EXCITEMENT ON THE STOCK EXCHANGE!"
Mr. Sabin's breakfast remained untasted. He read every word in the fourcolumns, and then turned to the other newspapers. They were all ablazewith the news. England's most renowned ally had turned suddenly againsther. Without the slightest warning the fire-brand of war had beenkindled, and waved threateningly in our very faces. The occasion washopelessly insignificant. A handful of English adventurers, engaged in asomewhat rash but plucky expedition in a distant part of the world, hadmet with a sharp reverse. In itself the affair was nothing; yet it badefair to become a matter of international history. Ill-advised thoughthey may have been, the Englishmen carried with them a charter grantedby the British Government. There was no secret about it--the fact wasperfectly understood in every Cabinet of Europe. Yet the German Emperorhad himself written a telegram congratulating the State which hadrepelled the threatened attack. It was scarcely an invasion--it waslittle more than a demonstration on the part of an ill-treated sectionof the population! The fact that German interests were in no wayconcerned--that any outside interference was simply a piece ofgratuitous impertinence--only intensified the significance of theincident. A deliberate insult had been offered to England; and the manwho sat there with the paper clenched in his hand, whilst his keen eyesdevoured the long columns of wonder and indignation, knew that his hadbeen the hand which had hastened the long-pent-up storm. He drew alittle breath when he had finished, and turned to his breakfast.
"Is Miss Sabin up yet?" he asked the servant, who waited upon him.
The man was not certain, but withdrew to inquire. He reappeared almostdirectly. Miss Sabin had been up for more than an hour. She had justreturned from a walk, and had ordered breakfast to be served in herroom.
"Tell her," Mr. Sabin directed, "that I should be exceedingly obliged ifshe would take her coffee with me. I have some interesting news."
The man was absent for several minutes. Before he returned Helene camein. Mr. Sabin greeted her with his usual courtesy and even more than hisusual cordiality.
"You are missing the best part of the morning with your Continentalhabits," she exclaimed brightly. "I have been out on the cliffs sincehalf-past eight. The air is delightful."
She threw off her hat, and going to the sideboard, helped herself to acup of coffee. There was a becoming flush upon her cheeks--her hair wasa little tossed by the wind. Mr. Sabin watched her curiously.
"You have not, I suppose, seen a morning paper--or rather last night'spaper?" he remarked.
She shook her head.
"A newspaper! You know that I never look at an English one," sheanswered. "You wanted to see me, Reynolds said. Is there any news?"
"There is great news," he answered. "There is such news that by sunsetto-day war will probably be declared between England and Germany!"
The flush died out of her cheeks. She faced him pallid to the lips.
"It is not possible!" she exclaimed.
"So the whole world would have declared a week ago! As a matter of factit is not so sudden as we imagine! The storm has been long brewing! Itis we who have been blind. A little black spot of irritation has spreadand deepened into a war-cloud."
"This will affect us?" she asked.
"For us," he answered, "it is a triumph. It is the end of our schemes,the climax of our desires. When Knigenstein came to me I knew that hewas in earnest, but I never dreamed that the torch was so nearlykindled. I see now why he was so eager to make terms with me."
"And you," she said, "you have their bond?"
For a moment he looked thoughtful.
"Not yet. I have their promise--the promise of the Emperor himself. Butas yet my share of the bargain is incomplete. There must be no moredelay. It must be finished now--at once. That telegram would never havebeen sent from Berlin but for their covenant with me. It would have beenbetter, perhaps, had they waited a little time. But one cannot tell! Theopportunity was too good to let slip."
"How long will it be," she asked, "before your work is complete?"
His face clouded over. In the greater triumph he had almost forgottenthe minor difficulties of the present. He was a diplomatist and aschemer of European fame. He had planned great things, and hadaccomplished them. Success had been on his side so long that he mightalmost have been excused for declining to reckon failure amongst thepossibilities. The difficulty which was before him now was as triflingas the uprooting of a hazel switch after the conquest of a forest ofoaks. But none the less for the moment he was perplexed. It was hard, inthe face of this need for urgent haste, to decide upon the next step.
"My work," he said slowly, "must be accomplished at once. There is verylittle wanted. Yet that little, I must confess, troubles me."
"You have not succeeded, then, in obtaining what you want from LordDeringham?"
"No."
"Will he not help you at all?"
"Never."
"How, then, do you mean to get at these papers of his?"
"At present," he replied, "I scarcely know. In an hour or two I may beable to tell you. It is possible that it might take me twenty-fourhours; certainly no longer than that."
She walked to the window, and stood there with her hands clasped behindher back. Mr. Sabin had lit a cigarette and was smoking it thoughtfully.
Presently she spoke to him.
"You will get them," she said; "yes, I believe that. In the end you willsucceed, as you have succeeded in everything."
There was a lack of enthusiasm in her tone. He looked up quietly, andflicked the ash from the end of his cigarette.
"You are right," he said. "I shall succeed. My only regret is that Ihave made a slight miscalculation. It will take longer than I imagined.Knigenstein will be in a fever, and I am afraid that he will worry me.At the same time he is himself to blame. He has been needlesslyprecipitate."
She turned away from the window and stood before him. She had a look inher face which he had seen there but once before, and the memory ofwhich had ever since troubled him.
"I want you," she said, "to understand this. I will not have any directharm worked upon the Deringhams. If you can get what they have and whatis necessary to us by craft--well, very good. If not, it must go! I willnot have force used. You should remember that Lord Wolfenden saved yourlife! I will have nothing to do with any scheme which brings harm uponthem!"
He looked at her steadily. A small spot of colour was burning high up onhis pallid cheeks. The white, slender fingers, toying carelessly withone of the breakfast appointments, were shaking. He was very near beingpassionately angry.
"Do you mean," he said, speaking slowly and enunciating every word withcareful distinctness, "do you mean that you would sacrifice or evenendanger the greatest cause which has ever been conceived in the heartof the patriot, to the whole skin of a household of English people? Iwonder whether you realise the position as it stands at this moment. Iam bound in justice to you to believe that you do not. Do you realisethat Germany has closed with our offer, and will act at our behest; thatonly a few trifling sheets of paper stand between us and the fullest,the most glorious success? Is it a time, do you think, f
or scruples orfor maudlin sentiment? If I were to fail in my obligations towardsKnigenstein I should not only be dishonoured and disgraced, but ourcause would be lost for ever. The work of many years would crumble intoashes. My own life would not be worth an hour's purchase. Helene, youare mad! You are either mad, or worse!"
She faced him quite unmoved. It was more than ever apparent that she wasnot amongst those who feared him.
"I am perfectly sane," she said, "and I am very much in earnest. Oursshall be a strategic victory, or we will not triumph at all. I believethat you are planning some desperate means of securing those papers. Irepeat that I will not have it!"
He looked at her with curling lips.
"Perhaps," he said, "it is I who have gone mad! At least I can scarcelybelieve that I am not dreaming. Is it really you, Helene of Bourbon, thedescendant of kings, a daughter of the rulers of France, who falters andturns pale at the idea of a little blood, shed for her country's sake? Iam very much afraid," he added with biting sarcasm, "that I have notunderstood you. You bear the name of a great queen, but you have theheart of a serving-maid! It is Lord Wolfenden for whom you fear!"
She was not less firm, but her composure was affected. The rich colourstreamed into her cheeks. She remained silent.
"For a betrothed young lady," he said slowly, "you will forgive me if Isay that your anxiety is scarcely discreet. What you require, I suppose,is a safe conduct for your lover. I wonder how Henri would----"
She flashed a glance and an interjection upon him which checked thewords upon his lips. The gesture was almost a royal one. He wassilenced.
"How dare you, sir?" she exclaimed. "You are taking insufferableliberties. I do not permit you to interfere in my private concerns.Understand that even if your words were true, if I choose to have alover it is my affair, not yours. As for Henri, what has he to complainof? Read the papers and ask yourself that! They chronicle his doingsfreely enough! He is singularly discreet, is he not?--singularlyfaithful!"
She threw at him a glance of contempt and turned as though to leave theroom. Mr. Sabin, recognising the fact that the situation was becomingdangerous, permitted himself no longer the luxury of displaying hisanger. He was quite himself again, calm, judicial, incisive.
"Don't go away, please," he said. "I am sorry that you have read thosereports--more than sorry that you should have attached any particularcredence to them. As you know, the newspapers always exaggerate; in manyof the stories which they tell I do not believe that there is a singleword of truth. But I will admit that Henri has not been altogetherdiscreet. Yet he is young, and there are many excuses to be made forhim. Apart from that, the whole question of his behaviour is beside thequestion. Your marriage with him was never intended to be one ofaffection. He is well enough in his way, but there is not the stuff inhim to make a man worthy of your love. Your alliance with him is simplya necessary link in the chain of our great undertaking. Between you youwill represent the two royal families of France. That is what isnecessary. You must marry him, but afterwards--well, you will be aqueen!"
Again he had erred. She looked at him with bent brows and kindling eyes.
"Oh! you are hideously cynical!" she exclaimed. "I may be ambitious, butit is for my country's sake. If I reign, the Court of France shall be ofa new type; we will at least show the world that to be a Frenchwoman isnot necessarily to abjure morals."
He shrugged his shoulders.
"That," he said, "will be as you choose. You will make your Court whatyou please. Personally, I believe that you are right. Such sentiments asyou have expressed, properly conveyed to them, would make yours abjectlyhalf the bourgeois of France! Be as ambitious as you please, but atleast be sensible. Do not think any more of this young Englishman, notat any rate at present. Nothing but harm can come of it. He is not likethe men of our own country, who know how to take a lady's dismissalgracefully."
"He is, at least, a man!"
"Helene, why should we discuss him? He shall come to no harm at myhands. Be wise, and forget him. He can be nothing whatever to you. Youknow that. You are pledged to greater things."
She moved back to her place by the window. Her eyes were suddenly soft,her face was sorrowful. She did not speak, and he feared her silencemore than her indignation. When a knock at the door came he was gratefulfor the interruption--grateful, that is, until he saw who it was uponthe threshold. Then he started to his feet with a little exclamation.
"Lord Wolfenden! You are an early visitor."
Wolfenden smiled grimly, and advanced into the room.
"I was anxious," he said, "to run no risk of finding you out. My missionis not altogether a pleasant one!"