CHAPTER XXV. — THE MASQUERADER
Lawrence waited until the room was dark and then slipped out unnoticed. He would have liked to remain and see the rest of Edestone’s most interesting pictures which had started off with those taken in Newfoundland and included a series not shown at Buckingham Palace. But he had an exciting task before him. The idea of posing as a Royal Prince in the magnificent uniform of the Imperial Hussars with nodding plumes and flowing military cape, his coat-of-arms emblazoned on his left shoulder, appealed to his dramatic instincts, as did the danger to his passion for adventure.
He was brave, but unlike Edestone his was the bravery of an unthinking recklessness rather than that of a perfectly balanced mind which, contemptuous of the body that carries it, forces that body to do its bidding.
The fact that Edestone had offered him an unheard of reward had made little impression, going in one ear and out of the other. He would accept it as lightly as it had been offered because he himself would have made exactly the same offer under the same circumstances. Whenever he wanted anything he paid the price, even if it took his last cent. It was no incentive to action now, as he would have gladly paid for the privilege of playing this big part in this wonderful melodrama—a melodrama which he was prepared at any time to see change into a tragedy, with him the dead hero.
He found that his Bowery boy Fred, under the pretext that it was customary in the best New York “high society,” had bullied the German flunkeys into bringing all of the officers’ helmets and cloaks upstairs and laying them out on a bed in one of the chambers on the second floor, from which place it was easy for him to smuggle all he wanted into Lawrence’s room. Lawrence found him there waiting to help him “make up.”
Turning up the collar of his dress coat so as to hide his white shirt front, the masquerader buckled on the sabre that Fred handed to him. Without changing his trousers he put on his riding boots and spurs, which with the busby and cloak, a pair of white kid gloves, and a small blond moustache completed his disguise. Standing thus in the middle of the room with the door open, he waited until Fred signalled that the coast was clear. He then stepped quickly across the hall and into the elevator, closely followed by Fred, who closed the door. When they were perfectly safe from interruption, he adjusted his costume and his false moustache to his entire satisfaction, pinning the cloak securely together with large safety pins to prevent it from flying open. Then as the elevator passed the main floor on its way to the basement, he made a gesture of derision.
Fred got out of the car and again carefully reconnoitred. Finding that the passage leading to the garden was clear and that there was no one in the billiard room, which was between the elevator and the outside door, he signalled and Lawrence walked out into the garden at the side of the Embassy.
It was quite dark there, but not dark enough to prevent the soldiers, who were stationed about to watch this door, from seeing him as he stood perfectly still as if hesitating which way to turn.
Observing that he was an officer, they saluted and stood at attention. Then as he moved forward and they saw the insignia on his cloak they signalled in some mysterious manner to the next post, who in turn passed it down the line that Royalty was at large and that they must be careful not to be caught napping.
Accordingly, as Lawrence emerged from the semi-darkness and came around to the front of the Embassy, every soldier was standing at attention and the different officers, after looking searchingly but most respectfully at him to satisfy themselves who he was, stepped back and allowed him to pass, while they stood like pieces of stone.
Lawrence did not deign even to notice them, but, reeling unsteadily in his gait, passed them without even acknowledging their salute.
His presence having been reported to the Captain who had charge of the company that was stationed in the street immediately in front of the Embassy, this officer hastened up to him.
“Is there anything that you require, Your Royal Highness?” he saluted. Lawrence, carrying out his pretence of intoxication, gave a perfect imitation of the Prince when in that condition.
“I am making a tour of inspection to see that everything is all right,” he said thickly.
The Captain saw his condition and showed an inclination to follow him, but Lawrence waved his hand with what was intended to be a regal gesture, although in fact it seemed to throw him almost off his balance.
The Captain stepped back most respectfully and saluted, but smiled as he followed with his eyes the young Prince.
Lawrence strutted quickly but unsteadily until he came to within about a hundred yards of the mortars, where a sentry challenged him.
“Pardon me, Your Royal Highness, but my orders are to permit no one to pass. If you will allow me, I will call the Corporal of the Guard, who will send for the Captain.”
Lawrence interrupted him by bellowing:
“Get out of my way, you stupid blockhead, or I’ll kick you out of my way! I have not time to wait for the lot of fools that you all are.”
Then as the man did not move he gave him a tremendous upper-cut, catching his chin with the base of his open hand and sending his head back and lifting him off his feet. He fell sprawling about ten feet away against an iron railing, where he lay perfectly still with a nasty cut in the back of his head.
The Captain, who had been slowly following to see that nothing happened to his Royal charge, ran up quickly and, ordering another soldier to take the place of the fallen sentry, had the wounded man hurried quickly out of sight.
In the meantime Lawrence was strolling along, without even looking back at the poor fellow where he lay.
“I caught him just right,” he muttered with a touch of compunction. “I hope I did not hurt him badly.”
When he finally came to the mortars with the mysterious two-wheeled wagons attached to them, he walked around from one to the other, as if he were making a careful inspection to see that everything was all right. It was impossible for him even now to make out what was hidden under the canvas covers. One thing he could see, however, and that was, that from under each there ran a carefully insulated electric cable to the nearest fire hydrant where it was carefully attached.
After inspecting all four, Lawrence turned around and went back to the second wagon, the cover of which he had noticed was not on exactly straight. He hoped to be able to see what was underneath, but he found that the cover was strapped down so tightly that he could get no inkling.
During all this time the officers and men were standing at attention in their proper places, although they followed him with their eyes, an amused expression on their faces.
Finding that it was impossible for him to discover anything while the covers remained on the wagons, he bellowed in a loud and commanding voice, not forgetting to imitate Royalty in its cups:
“Lieutenant!”
And to the young officer who ran up to him he said:
“Why is not that cover on straight? Did you not receive orders that these—” and as Lawrence had not the slightest idea what “these” were, he substituted a loud hiccough for the unknown name, and contented himself with pointing with an unsteady hand. “Did you not understand these had to be perfectly concealed? Now that one is not perfectly concealed, for I can see perfectly what it is, so take that cover off and put it on straight. And be quick about it or I will report you for untidiness.”
The Lieutenant, who was one of the very young recruits now officering the German Army, feeling overpowered by the presence of Royalty, had given the order, and the men were unstrapping the cover when the Captain came up.
“What are you doing there?” he demanded. Then turning sharply to the young Lieutenant he said in the most brutal manner:
“Don’t you know that the orders are not to take these covers off, not until the very last minute, not until everything else has been tried and has failed to bring her down.”
“But His Royal Highness,” stammered the younger officer, “has ordered this cover off because it is not on straight.”
“But, Your Royal Highness,” expostulated the Captain, although in the most deferential manner, “don’t you think that this cover is on straight enough?”
“What! Do you mean to contradict me?” Lawrence almost screamed. “I say that the cover is not on straight, and I have ordered this fool to take it off and put it on straight, perfectly straight.”
“But that is impossible,” said the Captain, warily keeping out of reach of His Royal Highness’s fists. “The orders are that these covers are not to come off until the American flying machine makes its appearance, and if it does not appear, the covers are not to come off at all. These are the orders of the General Staff, and Your Royal Highness must realize that they have to be obeyed.”
“Well,” said Lawrence with the persistency of a drunken man, talking at the top of his voice, “if you do not put that cover on straight I will report you, and you will be court-martialled for insulting a Prince of the Blood.”
All the while he kept swaying as if he were about to fall.
Straightening himself up with much difficulty and assuming a drunken dignity he started to go away; but as if he were unable to free his intoxicated mind from the one idea that obsessed it, he turned and changed his tone to a persuasive one.
“I don’t insist that you take the cover off,” he laughed, “I only insist that it be straightened, because you can see as well as I that it is not on perfectly straight, and your orders were to put these covers on straight, perfectly straight.”
The Captain, now thoroughly amused, and deciding that the best way was to humour him, thought, since his orders were only not to remove, that he would be able to satisfy the Prince without directly disobeying his instructions. He therefore ordered the men to unstrap the cover and pull it around.
Lawrence seemed entirely satisfied with this, and took such interest in seeing that the cover was adjusted to exactly the right position, that he leaned over and took hold of it himself, as if to give his help. As he did so he gave a lurch, and grabbing at the cover as if to save himself, he went down in a heap with it on top of him.
The men helped him quickly to his feet and as quickly readjusted the cover, but not before he had seen that the drum-shaped objects were in fact great wooden spools on which were wound thousands and thousands of yards of large copper wire.
Having seen all that he wanted, he now turned his attention towards getting back to the Embassy, so taking the Captain’s arm, and seeming either to have lost all interest or to have been overcome by his fall, made his way along. He swung and lurched so that it was with difficulty the officer kept him on his feet.
Then when they arrived at the front steps and the Captain was assisting him up, Lawrence, as if suddenly awaking from sleep, stopped.
“I am too dirty to go in by the front door,” he protested, “I will go in by the garden. I am much obliged to you, Captain; don’t come any farther.”
Then laughing and shaking his finger in the Captain’s face, he said in a tone of exultation: “I got that cover on straight, anyhow—perfectly straight.”
Swaying as he rounded the corner of the house, he went in through the side door, where he found Fred waiting for him, who pulled off his boots and gave him his pumps.
He took off his busby, and handed it to Fred, unpinned the long military cloak, unbuckled his sword, turned down the collar of his evening coat, and “Richard was himself again.”
Stepping into the elevator and letting himself off at the main floor, he went hurriedly into the room where Edestone was still showing his pictures, while Fred, after brushing and cleaning the royal paraphernalia, put them back in their place.
Lawrence moved quickly over to the cabinet where Mr. Black was working the machine and stepped inside. “I must speak to Mr. Edestone,” he whispered. “Can’t you stop the machine as if something had gone wrong? Then Mr. Edestone will come back here and see what is the matter.”
“Not on your life!” Black shook his head violently. “The Emperor now is in a perfect fury. He and Mr. Edestone have had one or two ‘set-tos,’ and Mr. Edestone is beginning to put it back at him pretty strong, and if anything should happen to the machine I think it would end in a fight. I rather wish we were back in New York. If it is necessary for you to speak to Mr. Edestone before the lights go up, this reel that I am running off now will take just about eight minutes more, so if you will slip quietly back of the screen you can whisper to him from there without attracting much attention. I will make a little extra noise to help you out.”
Lawrence worked his way unobtrusively through the room, and standing just to the side of the screen in a dark corner, called in a low voice:
“Jack, can I speak to you?”
Edestone, who had been deeply concerned about him, felt that a load was lifted from his mind when he heard the dare-devil’s voice. He knew at least that Lawrence was back safely, and he was confident that he would not have come back without the information until he had made a good fight for it. So as everything was quiet on the outside he was reassured.
Lawrence very quickly explained to him exactly what he had seen, and Edestone, squeezing his arm, said quietly:
“Ah! That is their little game!”
CHAPTER XXVI. — TWO REMARKABLE MEN
When the lights finally went up and the entertainment ended, perhaps the most surprised, almost dumbfounded, man in the room was Jones. He now had his first insight into the stupendous amount of work that had been done by his friend, and was completely overcome by the seriousness of the situation. He understood at last many things which had been lost on him before, as for instance the insinuating remarks of the Chancellor at their various conferences and why he had suspected the Secretary of lying to him.
Jones wondered also if his own Government had purposely kept the Embassy in the dark as to its relationship with Edestone. Not knowing the whereabouts or even the ownership of this frightful instrument of war, he was at a loss to know what he should say when certain pointed questions which were inevitable were put to him.
He realized now for the first time that the German General Staff was at work and would stop at nothing either to obtain the use of this great monster of the air or, by seizing Edestone himself, control its movements; that is, if Edestone and not the United States were operating it.
He could not blind himself to the air of confidence that pervaded the entire company, composed as it was of the highest men in the German Government, and this led him to believe that they knew Edestone held the key of the situation, and as long as they held him they occupied the strongest position.
But why, he could not help asking himself, had Edestone been such a fool as to put himself so completely in their power. Still, being a very astute man, and having the greatest confidence in his old friend, who he knew would do the straight thing in a strong position and the wise thing if he found himself in a weak one, he awaited developments.
Edestone, who had walked over to the Secretary of Legation, leaned down and said in a voice loud enough for the Emperor to hear:
“Will you please say to His Imperial Majesty that if there is any question he would like to put to me, or if he would care to have me repeat any of the pictures, I should appreciate the great honour.”
The Emperor, who was just waking up to the fact that he had in this young American a very strong and clever man to deal with, was to a certain extent at a loss to decide just how he would treat him.
Without waiting to have the request conveyed to him in due form, and speaking directly to Edestone he said in an affable voice:
“I should like to see again the picture showing the working of the bomb-dropping device, and I would like to have the film stopped exactly at the moment that the projectile leaves the tube. I wish to examine the action of the ejector.”
“I shall be most happy,” replied Edestone, “to run that film again very slowly and repeat it as often as Your Majesty may desire. I can also run it backward very slowly, but I cannot stop the machine that I am using tonight without ruining the film, and I am quite sure,” he bowed most respectfully, “that Your Majesty will not wish me to do that.”
“Stop that machine as I order you to do, and ruin the film if it is necessary!” said the Emperor in his most commanding tone.
At last Edestone had the chance he had been looking for. He knew that he was perfectly in his rights, and if he refused and the Emperor still insisted upon his most unjust demand, it would open the eyes of his country’s representative to the situation and the true attitude of the German authorities. Besides, he was incensed at the wanton destruction of other people’s property to satisfy the whims of this absolute monarch.
“I am very sorry, Your Majesty, I cannot do that, and for state reasons that it is impossible for me to explain.”
The Emperor turned perfectly livid. His face was painful to look at. He tried vainly to speak, but could not. It was plain that he was labouring under an emotion greater than his physical condition could stand. His mouth worked and each hair of his moustache seemed to stand on end, giving to his trembling lips an almost ghastly expression. He was seized with a violent fit of coughing which on account of the weak condition of his throat caused his doctor, without whom he rarely moved, to step forward, as if alarmed, to his assistance.
General von Lichtenstein leaned over as if to restrain him and whispered something in his ear, but this seemed only to infuriate him the more, and he waved his Councillor aside.
The Acting Ambassador, a lawyer of ability, felt strongly the justice of Edestone’s position in defending his property rights, and had he been sitting on the bench instead of on the edge of a raging volcano would have ruled in his favour. As it was, he watched with intense interest this contest between these two remarkable men.
When the Emperor had recovered sufficiently to speak, in a way that showed his uncontrollable rage was battling with an inherited physical weakness, his voice, starting in a whisper, rose and broke, and, in his violent efforts to control the convulsive spasms of his throat, turned into a scream.
“Show that film!” he shouted, “and stop it where I command or I will confiscate everything you have and throw you into prison.”
At this Jones rose quickly to his feet, a dangerous light in his eyes, and he was about to speak, but General von Lichtenstein rushed over and stopped him.
“His Majesty is beside himself,” he urged in a low voice. “He does not mean what he says. When he is himself again he will regret the indignity that he has offered your country and will make reparation.”
The Emperor had also arisen and was standing in the midst of as furious and warlike a looking lot of men as had ever grouped themselves around his wild barbaric ancestors, ready to pile their dead bodies about their master and give the last drop of blood for his protection.
They looked as if they approved and only waited for the word to rush in and avenge the insult to their beloved lord, and while waiting for this word they stood and glared at Edestone with a look of absolute contempt and undying hatred.
“Well, which shall it be?” said the Emperor, in a voice which was more under control but none the less determined. “Will you stop your film?”
Edestone, who all this time had stood perfectly still looking at the Emperor with eyes out of which had gone every vestige of deference and respect, showed in every feature a fixed and determined but absolutely cool defiance. The only time that his face had changed or his position altered since he last spoke was when the Emperor was apparently suffering, and then it had taken on an expression of deep pity and sincere sympathy and he too had made a step forward as if to render assistance.
This had quickly changed, however, when his glance caught the look of hatred that was riveted upon him. Declining even to glance at the Emperor, he addressed himself directly to the Secretary of Legation, speaking in a perfectly clear voice, which was a relief after the Emperor’s painful and rasping efforts.
“Mr. Secretary,” he said slowly, “I resent the insult to you, and through you to our country, which you represent, but if I thought that by complying with the unjust demands which the Emperor of Germany has seen fit to make I could prevent war between the United States and his country, I naturally would comply. When I see, however, that the Emperor of Germany refuses to respect the rights of an American citizen in the house of his Ambassador, I realize that the destruction of my film will not save the situation.” He turned to the Emperor. “I regret that I cannot comply with your commands. The matter is now between our two Governments.”
The Emperor laid his hand upon his sword and made a movement as though he intended to strike, at which every sword in the room flashed from its scabbard, save only that of old von Lichtenstein, who pressing forward laid a dissuasive hand on the Emperor’s arm.
“Don’t let him draw you on,” he whispered to his master; “this may be some trick.” Then to the rest he said in a contemptuous tone: “Don’t make fools of yourselves and make Germany ridiculous.”
The Emperor turned to the Secretary. “Sir,” he said in a voice trembling with agitation, “you have heard the insult that has been offered to my Imperial person, and if you do not deliver this man over to my police, I shall at twelve o’clock tomorrow night declare war against the United States of America, and until that time”—threateningly—“I shall hold you personally responsible for him.”
Edestone coolly took out his watch and noted that it was exactly twenty-five minutes past eleven o’clock, a proceeding which almost caused the Emperor to lose control of himself again, but he was once more held in check by General von Lichtenstein.
“I know now that this is a trick, Your Majesty,” he declared.
The Acting Ambassador bowed slightly to the Emperor’s last attack. “I shall report to my Government all that has passed,” he replied, “and exactly what Your Majesty has just said, and I shall, as soon as I receive an answer, report to Your Imperial Majesty.” He finished, and stood waiting as if to force the Emperor’s immediate departure.
Then with scant formality, and showing by the unpardonable rudeness of their behaviour the contempt in which they held all Americans, the Emperor and his entire suite left the Embassy without taking the slightest further notice of Edestone.
CHAPTER XXVII. — ALL CARDS ON THE TABLE
The royal party had scarcely gotten out of the house and Edestone and Jones were still standing in the middle of the reception room when the return of General von Lichtenstein was announced.
The old General came in as quietly as if nothing had happened. He greeted the Secretary cordially and smiled benignly at Edestone.
“Young man,” he said, “you needed my old head on your young shoulders badly tonight. I have returned to have a talk with the Acting Ambassador, and I think that if he can prevail upon you to be reasonable I may be able to settle this little difficulty between you and His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor. If you will only lead us into some smaller room, Mr. Secretary, we can sit down and over our cigars discuss this matter quietly.”
“I am sorry that my machine—” began Edestone, but he was quickly interrupted by the General.
“Tut, tut, that is nothing at all. That was simply two young men losing their tempers, and ought to be soon settled. One being an Emperor makes it a little more difficult, I will admit, but I have seen Emperors angry before and they are just like any of us. They cool off when they realize that they have,” and he lowered his voice with a quizzical look, “been a little bit foolish.”
When they were all comfortably seated around the table in the library of the Embassy, and the General and Edestone had lighted cigars, while Jones, who never smoked, looked on, the old General, statesman, philosopher, and writer opened the conversation.
“We have now come to the last hand in this game which we have been playing,” he said, “and I think it would be just as well for all cards to be laid on the table.”
Edestone looked at him in surprise, for instead of the simple, smiling old gentleman, with the soft gentle voice and fatherly manner, he saw a crafty, dangerous, and determined man of steel. His voice was cold and harsh, his winning smile had gone. He had come to fight and to fight desperately to the finish.
“In the first place,” he continued, “we do not know exactly what is the relationship between you,” looking at Edestone, “and the United States of America,” with a wave of his hand toward Jones, “and as there can now be no reason for further concealment, since we are virtually on the verge of a declaration of war—a step which I am here to prevent if possible—I will say that it makes no difference to His Imperial Majesty’s Government what that relationship may be, so long as Germany gets the use of Mr. Edestone’s invention. But we will declare war upon the United States tomorrow night unless we get an assurance from you that we shall have the exclusive right to the one and only flying machine in which this invention has been installed.”
At this Jones looked over at Edestone with a glance of inquiry.
“Yes,” said Edestone in answer to this, “there is only one.”
“Germany understands, of course,” proceeded the General, “that the United States will construct others, but so will Germany. Germany is willing and prepared to pay well for this, although she knows that by holding Mr. Edestone she controls this machine and could have it without paying for it. We admit that we do not know where it is, but we are confident that Mr. Edestone does,”—he turned upon Edestone the look of a wild beast who has his prey and loves to torture it,—“and we intend that he shall communicate with the commander and see that this ship is sent to some place where we can take possession of it.”
And then with a grim smile he leaned forward on the table, looking first at the Secretary and then at Edestone.
“You are both virtually prisoners in this Embassy,” he said. “That is my hand.”
“Then we are now at war,” said the Secretary with a quiet smile.
“No,” replied the General, “it has not come to that yet. And it does not necessarily have to come to that. We should be able to arrange this matter here tonight. As I have said, Germany will pay well. She is willing to start on even terms with the United States, who can build just as fast as we can. Germany will bring this war to an end within a week, and then she and the United States can come to an agreement as to how they will divide up the rest of the earth.”
Edestone smiled and made no answer.
The Secretary said: “I can do nothing until I have communicated with my Government.”
“I am sorry,” said the General impatiently, “but we cannot wait until we get an answer from your very slow and inefficient State Department. We must have a reply before tomorrow night at 12 o’clock. Have you nothing to say, Mr. Edestone? You are perhaps personally the most deeply interested, because I tell you,” he grinned cruelly, “we will get your secret if we have to put you on the rack and go back five centuries in the eyes of the rest of the world, should it be necessary to do that in order to give it the blessings that can only be gotten under German rule. I ask you again, have you nothing to say?”
“Nothing, General,” replied Edestone.
He was slowly blowing rings of smoke, seeming almost to fascinate the General, who would often stop speaking to follow them with his eyes until they broke or were lost in the darkness in the corners of the room. This was an old trick of his to divert the attention of his adversary, therein improving on Bismarck who always used his cigar to gain time when driven to a corner.
“That is your final answer?” said the General.
“My final answer,” Edestone bowed.
“And you, Mr. Secretary?”
“I am but the mouthpiece of my Government, and she has not spoken yet.”
“Well, gentlemen,” said the General rising, “I think we understand each other.”
“I think so,” replied Edestone. “Good-night, sir.”
The Secretary accompanied the visitor out into the hall, leaving Edestone, who as soon as he was alone rang for a servant and sent for Lawrence. In the meantime he just had opportunity to glance at the note which General von Lichtenstein had given him. It was a mere scrap of writing asking him to come to the Princess Wilhelmina immediately after the departure of His Imperial Majesty.
When Lawrence came in he hastily slipped this into his pocket.
“Lawrence,” he said, “I want you to send a message for me as soon as Jones has given his consent. I will ask him in regard to it as soon as he returns, so you had better wait and hear what he has to say.”
A moment later the Secretary came into the room with a very worried expression on his face. “Edestone,” he said impressively, “this undoubtedly means war.”
“And if so,” rejoined Edestone, “we will win.”
He then explained to Jones how he was in daily communication with “Specs” and was now only waiting for the Secretary’s consent to send for him and he could have him over Berlin in seven hours. He also explained to him about the instrument that was in the penthouse on the roof of the Embassy.
“But what do you propose to do, Jack?” frowned the Secretary. “Do you intend to fight these people single-handed and thereby drag your country into a cruel and disastrous war? That seems to me to be unnecessary.”
“No, I propose to save you and the members of the Embassy from a very disagreeable experience and from what may develop into a very dangerous situation; for I am convinced that these Germans will not hesitate to fire upon the Embassy if you do not deliver me up to them. The only hope of stopping war without loss of life is through me and my invention. I therefore ask your permission to send the following message,” and he handed the Secretary a scrap of paper upon which he had written:
“Be exactly over American Embassy Berlin tomorrow night at nine o’clock. Take station at 5000 feet and there await instructions.
“E.”
The Secretary took the paper and read it through twice very slowly.
“I fear,” he said with a sigh, “that is the only way.”
CHAPTER XXVIII. — WHERE IS IT?
The Secretary left the room after practically turning the entire matter over to Edestone. He feared that the time had come to show force. The Germans, in what they felt might be a desperate strait, had thrown to the wind caution, tradition, and the usages of civilized warfare. They were preparing some desperate move which he felt that he was powerless to stop. Diplomacy with them now was as useless as pure logic on a charging elephant.
How they expected to stand against Edestone and his diabolical mystery of the air, he could not comprehend, but he had lived long enough with this nation to know them. Simple, kind, and lovable in their ordinary lives, they were nevertheless, on the subject of war, individually and collectively mad and they were ready to die fighting.
Whereas any sane man could see that their fight with Edestone was hopeless, they with their absolute confidence and conceit were preparing to pit themselves against him and some unknown secret of nature. While he, with his discovery, was apparently in a position to let loose upon their defenceless city an engine of destruction too terrible to think of. Edestone, like the pilot who has come aboard the ocean liner, had now taken entire charge.
The first thing was to get off this message, so he sat down to work out the cipher known only to himself and “Specs.” He said to Lawrence:
“My initials J. F. E. are the call which must be repeated three times, then twice, and then finally once. This must all be repeated with one minute intervals until answered by the single letter ‘E,’ which will be repeated eight times, once for every letter in my name, and after an interval of five minutes, once again only.
“After you have satisfied yourself that you are in touch with Mr. Page, my head man, ‘Specs,’ I call him, send him this.” He handed Lawrence one word of twenty-two letters, or rather twenty-two letters which he had apparently taken indiscriminately from a small pocket dictionary. “Have him repeat, and see that there is no mistake,” and continuing, he said: “We are certainly being watched by the German servants; the condition of my trunks shows that, so the first thing to do is to get them out of the way. Call them all down into the ballroom, and say that I wish to speak to them. See that everyone is there, and if there is a single one missing, search the house from garret to cellar until you find them all. I will give them a little talk which will give you and Black time to get off this message. I will, incidentally, show them that I propose to put up with no nonsense whatever.”
As Lawrence was leaving the room he said to him with a jolly laugh: “Oh, by the way, how does it feel to be rich again? I have been so occupied with other things that I have not had time to thank and congratulate you on your splendid work. What a fine story it will make when we get back to New York, which will be very soon, I hope.”
When the servants came in he first gave them a little insight into the real state of affairs from a standpoint that they had never known. He then explained to them that the Embassy was practically in a state of siege, and that he was in command, and that if he heard of any one of them having any communication whatever with anyone on the outside, he would treat them in the way that he had treated the people in the pictures which he had shown them, only he would put them out of the window and they would keep going up and up and never come down again. So when Lawrence returned and signalled that he might let them go, a more thoroughly scared set of domestics never waited on the word of “Ivan the Terrible.”
“Well, Bo,” said Lawrence as he threw himself into a comfortable chair, after slopping whisky and water all over the tablecloth and dropping a large piece of ice on the floor which he kicked violently at the retreating servant at whom he had bellowed, giving a perfect imitation of a Prussian officer in a public restaurant when American ladies are present, “this has certainly been ‘some day.’ Will you please be so kind as to put me wise on a few of your dates?
“In the first place, who was the ‘wise guy’ who rushed out from nowhere and swallowed up my J. F. E. like an old trout from under a bank who had never seen a Silver Doctor before? Where is he? How is he to get here, and what is he going to do when he does?”
Edestone quietly finished the lighting of his cigar, and after he was thoroughly satisfied that this was perfectly done and it was going to draw to his entire satisfaction, he said:
“Well, now that you are to be my fellow-partner in crime, and Jones is our associate, I will tell you. Do you remember the summer way back in the 90’s that you and I spent in Switzerland mountain climbing?”
“Yes, perfectly,” said Lawrence, “but that was a long time ago. We were nothing but kids then.”
“Do you remember that you, kid-like, insisted upon going over a very flimsy-looking snow bridge, simply because the old guide told us that he had never seen that crevasse bridged before, and that the tradition down in Chamonix was that it had only been bridged once or twice in the memory of man?
“And do you remember,” went on Edestone, “that at first he refused to go, saying that if it broke after we got over, there was no possible way of our getting back?”
“Yes,” acknowledged Lawrence, “the old ‘chump,’ and I remember that we went over and got back all right, and those guides are talking about it yet.”
“Well, do you remember,” continued Edestone, “that when we scrambled up over the next rock ridge we looked into a regular bowl-shaped valley that had the appearance of a crater of an extinct volcano?”
“Yes,” said Lawrence.
“Well, ‘Specs’ is there in that valley, where perhaps no human being has ever been before. I sent him there for that reason. He has been there for the last two months and a half, unknown to anyone on the face of the earth and thoroughly protected from the storms that sweep over that portion of the French Alps.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” said Lawrence. “Is ‘Specs’ the skipper of that pretty little toy you were showing on the screen?”
“No, Captain Lee is the skipper,” laughed Edestone. “Dear old ‘Specs’ is my boss. He is the Admiral.”
“Well, for the love of Mike,” exploded Lawrence. “What a swell chance those mortars out there with their long distance telephone attachments will have with that Queen of the Milky Way. You don’t mean to say that he is coming over here with his forty thousand tons and float around up there five thousand feet above the Embassy?” he exclaimed as he looked up at the ceiling with a look of alarm, as if he expected to see it come crushing down on him at any moment. And jumping out of his chair he ran about the room, making the most ridiculous gestures, crying: “Air, I want air!” while Edestone laughed until the tears rolled down his cheeks.
“But say, Bo,” said Lawrence, “there is nothing to it. What do you suppose those crazy Dutchmen are thinking about? Why I thought that sky pirate belonged to the United States, and was now probably tied to a dock in some mud flat, with a crew of two brass polishers and a Sunday School teacher, while the Virginia creeper and the North Carolina milkweed twined about it to make nests for the Dove of Peace.”
“No,” said Edestone, “it is what you have just called it, a Sky Pirate, and I am the buccaneer.”
“Did the Emperor know that when he got so gay with you tonight?” asked Lawrence.
“No, he does not know that, but he knows everything else.”
“Well, what is his game?”
“Well,” said Edestone, after thinking for a while, “as far as I can make it out it is this: They do not want to kill me; they are using me to bait the trap with which they hope to catch the ‘Queen of the Milky Way,’ as you call her. They will take her dead, now that they cannot get her alive, and they hope to be able to put new life into her after they have taken all life out with the ‘long distance telephone attachments,’ as you call them.”
“Why is he so certain that you will not drop bombs on his city?” asked Lawrence.
“I do not know,” replied Edestone, “unless he knows that I am more of a gentleman than he is. Or perhaps he thinks that I will not allow any damage to be done until I am safely on board, which may or may not be perfectly true.”
“Tu as raison, mon vieux,” shrugged Lawrence.
“They will do nothing to me until they are certain that they are going to lose me. They want me alive, but would rather have me dead than in the hands of the other fellow. Now do you understand?”
“Not exactly,” replied Lawrence, pretending to look very wise. “What do you mean about taking her dead if they can’t get her alive, and what have those wires got to do with it?”
“I mean by taking her alive,” said Edestone, “buying her from whoever she belongs to, and keeping me here to show them how to run her. And when I spoke of taking her dead, I had forgotten that you had not heard what I said tonight while showing the pictures. I will explain this to you sometime when we get on board and we have more time, but you will understand enough when I tell you this.”
Lawrence listened attentively as Edestone continued.
“They know that she floats by virtue of an instrument that I have; they know that she will not float if brought in contact with the earth or if connected with it by means of some electrical conductor. They propose to establish an electrical connexion between her and the ground by throwing those wires over her with mortars, just as the life-saving men throw a life-line to a ship in distress.”
“Oh, that was why they were so carefully connected with the water main,” interrupted Lawrence.
“Yes,” replied Edestone, “and when they get her down they will expect me with my instrument to float her off again.”
“Well, what do you think of their chances of pulling this off?” asked Lawrence.
“I think,” said Edestone thoughtfully, “their chances are small, but you can never tell what these very resourceful people may do. They are buoyed up by a hopefulness that is almost uncanny and they can’t all be crazy!”