CHAPTER XII
HIS EXCELLENCY THE GENERAL IS WORRIED
I sat with Monica in her boudoir, which, unlike the usual run of Germanrooms, had an open fireplace in which a cheerful fire was burning.Monica, in a ravishing kimono, was perched on the leather railed seatrunning round the fireplace, one little foot in a satin slipper held outto the blaze. In that pretty room she made a charming picture, which fora moment almost made me forget the manifold dangers besetting me.
The doughty Carter had acquitted himself nobly of his task. When Iawoke, feeling like a giant refreshed, he had the fire blazing merrilyin the fireplace, while on the table a delicious breakfast of tea andfried eggs and biscuits was spread.
"There ain't no call to mess yourself up inside with that dam' war breadof theirs," he chirped. "Miss Monica, she lets me have biscuits, samelike she has herself. I always calls her Miss Monica," he explained,"like what they did over at her uncle's place in Long Island, where Iused to work."
After breakfast he produced hot water, a safety razor and other toiletrequisites, a clean shirt and collar, an overcoat and a Stetson hat--allfrom Gerry's wardrobe, I presumed. My boots, too, were beautifullypolished, and it was as a new man altogether, fresh in mind and clean inbody, that I presented myself, about ten o'clock in the morning, at thefront door and demanded the "Frau Graefin." By Carter's advice I hadremoved my moustache, and my clean-shaven countenance, together with myblack felt hat and dark overcoat, gave me, I think, that appearance ofrather dour respectability which one looks for in a male attendant.
Now Monica and I sat and reviewed the situation together.
"German servants spend their lives in prying into their masters'affairs," she said, "but we shan't be interrupted here. That door leadsinto Gerry's room: he was asleep when I went in just now. I'll take youinto him presently. Now tell me about yourself ... and Francis!"
I told her again, but at greater length, all I knew about Francis, hismission into Germany, his long silence.
"I acted on impulse," I said, "but, believe me, I acted for the best.Only, everything seems to have conspired against me. I appear to havewalked straight into a mesh of the most appalling complications whichreach right up to the Throne."
"Never mind, Des," she said, leaning over and putting a little hand onmy arm, "it was for Francis; you and I would do anything to help him,wouldn't we? ... if he is still alive. Impulse is not such a bad thing,after all. If I had acted on impulse once, maybe poor Francis would notnow be in the fix he is...."
And she sighed.
"Things look black enough, Des," she went on. "Maybe you and I won't getthe chance of another chat like this again and that's why I'm going totell you something I have never told anybody else. I am only telling youso as you will know that, whatever happens, you will always find in mean ally in your search ... though, tied as I am, I scarcely think I canever help you much.
"Your brother wanted me to marry him. I liked him better thananybody else I had ever met ... or have ever met since, for thatmatter.... Daddy was dead, I was absolutely free to please myself, so nodifficulties stood in the way. But your brother was proud ... his pridewas greater than his love for me, I told him when we parted ... and hewouldn't hear of marriage until he had made himself independent, thoughI had enough for both of us. He wanted me to wait a year or two untilhe had got his business started properly, but his pride angered me andI wouldn't.
"So we quarrelled and I went abroad with Mrs. Rushwood. Francis neverwrote: all I heard about him was an occasional scrap in your letters.Mrs. Rushwood was crazy about titles, and she ran me round from court tocourt, always looking for what she called a suitable _pari_ for me. AtVienna we met Rachwitz ... he was very good looking and very wellmannered and seemed to be really fond of me.
"Well, I gave Francis another chance. I wrote him a friendly letter andtold him about Rachwitz wanting to marry me and asked his advice. Hewrote me back a beastly letter, a wicked letter, Des. 'Any girl who isfool enough to sell herself for a title,' he said, 'richly deserves aGerman husband.' What do you think of that?"
"Poor old Francis," I said. "He was terribly fond of you, Monica!"
"Well, his letter did it. I married Rachwitz ... and have been miserableever since. I'm not going to bore you with a long story about mymatrimonial troubles. No! I'm not going to cry either! I'm not crying!Karl is not a bad man, as German men go, and he's a gentleman, but hislove affairs and his drunken parties and his attitude of mind towardsme ... it was so utterly different to everything I had been used to.Then you know, I left him...."
"But, Monica," I exclaimed, "what are you doing here then?"
She sighed wearily.
"I'm a German by marriage, Des," she said, "you can't get away fromthat. My husband's country ... my country ... is at war and the wivesmust play their part, wherever their heart is. Karl never asked me tocome back, I'll give him the credit for that. I came of my own accordbecause I felt my place was here. So I go round to needlework partiesand sewing bees and Red Cross matinees and try to be civil to the Germanwomen and listen to their boasting and bragging about their army, theirhypocrisy about Belgium, their vilification of the best friends Daddyand I ever had, you English! But doing my duty by my husband does notforbid me to help my friends when they are in danger. That's why you cancount on me, Des."
And she gave me her hand.
"I want to be frank with you, too," I said, "so, whatever happens to me,you won't feel I have deceived you about things. I can't say muchbecause my secret is not healthy for anyone to share, and, should theytrace any connection between you and me, if they get me, it will bebetter for you not to have known anything compromising. But I want totell you this. There is a consideration at stake which is higher thanmy own safety, higher even than Francis'. I don't believe I am afraid todie: if I escape here, I shall probably get killed at the front sooneror later: it is because of this consideration I speak of that I want toget away with my life back to England."
Monica laughed happily.
"Why do men always take us women to be fools?" she said. "You're adangerous man to have around, Des, I know that, without worrying my headabout any old secret. But you are my friend and Francis' brother and I'mgoing to help you.
"Now, listen! Old von Boden was at that party last night: he came inlate. Rudi von Boden, he told me, is going to take despatches toRumania, to Mackensen's head-quarters. Well, I telephoned the old manthis morning and asked him if Rudi would take a parcel for me to Karl.He said he would and the General is coming here to lunch to-day to fetchit.
"Von Boden is an old beast and runs after every woman he meets. He is byway of being partial to me, if you please, sir. I think I should be ableto find out from him what are the latest developments in your case.There's nothing in the paper this morning about the affair at theEsplanade. But then, these things are always hushed up."
"He'll hardly say much in the circumstances," I objected "After all,the Kaiser is involved...."
"My dear Des, opinion of feminine intelligence in military circles inthis country is so low that the women in the army set at Court are veryoften far better informed than the General Staff. Von Boden will tell meall I want to know."
What a girl she was!
"About your friend, the clubfooted man," she went on, "I'm ratherpuzzled. He must be a person of considerable importance to be fetched byspecial train straight into the Emperor's private apartments, where veryfew people ever penetrate, I assure you. But I've never heard of him.He's certainly not a Court official. Nor is he the head of the PoliticalPolice ... that's Henninger, a friend of Karl's. Still, there are peopleof great importance working in dark places in this country and I guessClubfoot must be one of them.
"Now, I think I ought to take you into Gerry. I want to speak to youabout him, Des. I daren't tell him who you are. Gerry's not himself.He's been a nervous wreck ever since his accident and I can't trust him.He's a very conventional man and his principles would never hear of meharbouring a ... a ..."
/> "Spy?" I suggested.
"No, a friend," she corrected. "So you'll just have to be a male nurse,I guess. A German-American would be best, I think, as you'll have toread the German papers to Gerry--he doesn't know a word of German. Then,you must have a name of some kind...."
"Frederick Meyer," I suggested promptly, "from Pittsburg. It'll have tobe Pittsburg: Francis went there for a bit, you know: he wrote me a lotabout the place and I've seen pictures of it, too. It's the onlyAmerican city I know anything about."
"Let it be Meyer from Pittsburg, then," smiled Monica, "but you've got aterrible English accent, Des. I guess we'll have to tell Gerry you wereyears nursing in London before the war."
She hesitated a moment, then added:
"Des, I'm afraid you'll find Gerry very trying. He's awfully irritableand ... and very spiteful. So you must be careful not to give yourselfaway."
I had only met the brother once and my recollection of him was of a goodlooking, rather spoilt young man. He had been brought up entirely in theStates by the Long Island uncle whose great fortune he had inherited.
"You'll be quite safe up here for the present," Monica went on. "You'llsleep in the little room off Gerry's and I'll have your meals servedthere too. After I have found out from the General how things stand,we'll decide what's to be done next."
"I'll be very wary with Master Gerry," I said. "But, Monica, though hehas only seen me once, he knows Francis pretty well and we are ratheralike. Do you think he'll recognize me?"
"Why, Desmond, it's years since he saw you. And you're not much likeFrancis with your moustache off. If you're careful, it'll be all right!It isn't for long, either. Now we'll go in. Come along."
As we entered, a petulant voice cried:
"Is that you, Monica? Say, am I to be left alone all the morning?"
"Gerry dear," answered Monica very sweetly, "I've been engaging someoneto look after you a bit. Come here, Meyer! This is Frederick Meyer,Gerry!"
I should never have recognized the handsome, rather indolent youth I hadmet in London in the pale man with features drawn with pain who gazedfrowningly at me from the bed.
"Who is he? Where did you get him from? Does he know German?"
He shot a string of questions at Monica, who answered them in her sweet,patient way.
He was apparently satisfied, for, when Monica presently got up to leaveus, he threw me an armful of German papers and bade me read to him.
I had not sat with him for ten minutes before I realized what animpossible creature the man was. Nothing I could do was right. Now hedidn't want to hear the war news, then it was the report of theReichstag debate that bored him, now I didn't read loud enough, then myvoice jarred on him. Finally, he snatched the paper out of my hand.
"I can't understand half you say," he cried in accents shrill withirritability; "you mouth and mumble like an Englishman. You say you arean American?"
"Yes, sir," I answered meekly, "but I resided for many years inEngland."
"Well, it's a good thing you're not there now. Those English are justplumb crazy. They'll never whip Germany, not if they try for a century.Why, look what this country has done in this war? Nothing can standagainst her! It's organization, that's what it is! The Germans lead theworld. Take their doctors! I have been to every specialist in Americaabout my back and paid them thousands of dollars. And what good did theydo me? Not a thing. I come to Germany, they charge me a quarter of thefees, and I feel a different man already. Before tackling the Germans,the English ..."
Thus he ran on. I knew the type well, the American who is hypnotized byGerman efficiency and thoroughness so completely that he does not seethe reverse side of the medal.
He exhausted himself on the topic at last and bade me read to him again.
"Read about the affair at the Hotel Esplanade last night," he commanded.
I had kept an eye open for this very item but, as Monica had said, thepapers contained no hint of it. I wondered how Gerry knew about it.Monica would not have told him.
"What affair do you mean?" I said. "There is nothing about it in thepapers."
"Of course there is, you fool. What is the use of my hiring you to readthe papers to me if you can't find news that's spread all over theplace? It's no use giving me the paper ... you know I can't read it!Here, Josef will know!"
A man-servant had come noiselessly into the room with some clothes.
Gerry turned to him.
"Josef, where did you see that story you were telling me about anEnglish spy assaulting a man at the Esplanade last night?"
"Dot ain't in de paper, sir. I haf heard dis from de chauffeur of deBiedermanns next door. He wass at de hotel himself wid hiss shentlemanlars' night at de dance. Dey won't put dat in no paper, sir."
And the man chuckled.
I felt none too comfortable during all this and was glad to be told toread on and be damned.
I read to the young American all the morning. He went on exactly like avery badly brought up child. He was fretful and quarrelsome andsometimes abusive, and I had some difficulty in keeping my temper. Hecontinually recurred to my English accent and jeered so offensively andso pointedly at what he called "your English friends" that I began tobelieve there was some purpose behind his attitude. But it was only partof his invalid's fractiousness, for when the valet, Josef, appeared withthe luncheon tray, the American seemed anxious to make amends for hisbehaviour.
"I'm afraid I'm a bit trying at times, Meyer," he said with a pleasantsmile. "But you're a good fellow. Go and have your lunch. You needn'tcome back till four: I always sleep after luncheon. Here, have a cigar!"
I took the cigar with all humility as beseemed my role and followed thevalet into an adjoining room, where the table was laid for me. I amkeenly sensitive to outside influences, and I felt instinctivelydistrustful of the man Josef. I expect he resented my intrusion into asphere where his influence had probably been supreme and where he haddoubtless managed to secure a good harvest of pickings.
He left me to my luncheon and went away. After an excellent lunch,washed down by some first-rate claret, I was enjoying my cigar over abook when Josef reappeared again.
"The Frau Graefin will see you downstairs!" he said.
Monica received me in a morning-room (the apartment was on two floors).She was very much agitated and had lost all her habitual calm.
"Des," she said, "von Boden has been here!"
"Well!" I replied eagerly.
"I wasn't very successful," she went on "I'm in deep water, Des, andthat's the truth. I have never seen the old General as he was to-day.He's a frightful bully and tyrant, but even his worst enemy neveraccused him of cowardice. But, Des, to-day the man was cowed. He seemedto be in terror of his life and I had the greatest difficulty in makinghim say anything at all about your affair.
"I made a joking allusion to the escapade at the hotel last night and hesaid:
"'Yesterday may prove the ruin of not only my career but that of myson's also. Yesterday gained for me as an enemy, Madam, a man whom itspells ruin, perhaps death, to offend.'
"'You mean the Emperor?' I asked.
"'The Emperor!' he said. 'Oh! of course, he's furious. No, I was notspeaking of the Emperor!'
"Then he changed the subject and it took me all my tact to get back toit. I asked him if they had caught the author of the attack at theEsplanade. He said, no, but it was only a question of time: the fellowcouldn't escape. I said I supposed they would offer a reward and publisha description of the assailant all over the country. He told me theywould do nothing of the sort.
"'The public will hear nothing about the affair,' he said, 'and if youwill take my advice, Countess, you will forget all about it. In anycase, the Princess Radolin is writing to all her guests at the ball lastnight to urge them strongly to say nothing about the incident. Theemployees of the hotel will keep their mouths shut. The interests atstake forbid that there should be any attempt whatsoever made in publicto throw light on the affair.'
"Th
at is all I could get out of him. But I have something further totell you. The General went away immediately after lunch. Almost as soonas he had gone I was called to the telephone. Dr. Henninger was there:he is the head of the Political Police, you know. He gave me the sameadvice as the General, namely, to forget all about what occurred at theEsplanade last night. And then the Princess Radolin rang me up to saythe same thing. She seemed very frightened: she was quite tearful.Someone evidently had scared her badly."
"Monica," I said, "it's quite clear I can't stay here. My dear girl, ifI am discovered in your house, there is no knowing what trouble may notcome upon you."
"If there is any risk," she answered, "it's a risk I am ready to take.You have nowhere to go to in Berlin, and if you are caught outside theymight find out where you had been hiding and then we should be as badlyoff as before. No, you stay right on here, and maybe in a day or two Ican get you away. I've been thinking something out.
"Karl has a place near the Dutch frontier, Schloss Bellevue, it iscalled, close to Cleves. It's an old place and has been in the familyfor generations. Karl, however, only uses it as a shooting-box: we hadbig shoots up there every autumn before the war.
"There has been no shooting there for two years now and the place isoverstocked with game. The Government has been appealing to people withshooting preserves to kill their game and put it on the market, so I hadarranged to go up to Bellevue this month and see the agent about this. Ithought if I could prevail on Gerry to come with me, you could accompanyhim and you might get across the Dutch frontier from there. It's onlyabout fifteen miles away from the Castle. If I can get a move on Gerry,there is no reason why we shouldn't go away in a day or two. In themeantime you'll be quite safe here."
I told her I must think it over: she seemed to be risking too much. ButI think my mind was already made up. I could not bring destruction onthis faithful friend.
Then I went upstairs again to Gerry, who was in as vile a temper asbefore. His lunch had disagreed with him: he hadn't slept: the room wasnot hot enough ... these were a few of the complaints he showered at meas soon as I appeared. He was in his most impish and malicious mood. Hesent me running hither and thither: he gave me an order and withdrew itin the same breath: my complacency seemed to irritate him, to encouragehim to provoke me.
At last he came back to his old sore subject, my English accent.
"I guess our good American is too homely for a fine English gentlemanlike you," he said, "but I believe you'll as lief speak as you weretaught before you're through with this city. An English accent is nothealthy in Berlin at present, Mister Meyer, sir, and you'd best learn totalk like the rest of us if you want to keep on staying in this house.
"I'm in no state to be worried just now and I've no notion of havingthe police in here because some of their dam' plain-clothes men haveheard my attendant saying 'charnce' and 'darnce' like anyBritisher--especially with this English spy running round loose. By theway, you'll have to be registered? Has my sister seen about it yet?"
I said she was attending to it.
"I want to know if she's done it. I'm a helpless cripple and I can't geta thing done for me. Have you given her your papers? Yes, or no?"
This was a bad fix. With all the persistence of the invalid, the man washarping on his latest whim.
So I lied. The Countess had my papers, I said.
Instantly he rang the bell and demanded Monica and had fretted himselfinto a fine state by the time she appeared.
"What's this I hear, Monica?" he cried in his high-pitched, querulousvoice. "Hasn't Meyer been registered with the police yet?"
"I'm going to see to it myself in the morning, Gerry," she said.
"In the morning. In the morning!" he cried, throwing up his hands. "GoodGod, how can you be so shiftless? A law is a law. The man's papers mustbe sent in to-day ... this instant."
Monica looked appealingly at me.
"I'm afraid I'm to blame, sir," I said. "The fact is, my passport isnot quite in order and I shall have to take it to the embassy before Isend it to the police."
Then I saw Josef standing by the bed, a salver in his hand.
"Zom letters, sir," he said to Gerry. I wondered how long he had been inthe room.
Gerry waved the letters aside and burst into a regular screaming fit.He wouldn't have things done that way in the house; he wouldn'thave unknown foreigners brought in, with the city thick withspies--especially people with an English accent--his nerves wouldn'tstand it: Monica ought to know better, and so on and so forth. The longand the short of it was that I was ordered to produce my passportimmediately. Monica was to ring up the embassy to ask them to stretch apoint and see to it out of office hours, then Josef should take me roundto the police.
I don't know how we got out of that room. It was Monica, with her sweetwomanly tact, who managed it. I believe the madman even demanded to seemy passport, but Monica scraped me through that trap as well.
I had left my hat and coat in the entrance hall downstairs. I put on mycoat, then went to Monica in the morning-room.
There was much she wanted to say--I could see it in her eyes--but Ithink she gathered from my face what I was going to do, so she saidnothing.
At the door I said aloud, for the benefit of Josef, who was on thestairs:
"Very good, my lady. I will come straight back from the embassy and thengo with Josef to the police."
The next moment I was adrift in Berlin.