They sat this way for some time, Edestone looking thoughtfully out of the car window and rather disgusted with himself for having lessened his dignity in the eyes of the other man.
He was broad enough to be able to put himself in von Hemelstein’s place. He knew that by birth, education, and example the man’s attitude to him, in fact to the rest of the world, was that of a superior being looking down upon those immeasurably beneath him. For him, a Prussian nobleman, to be spoken to in this way by one of a lower sphere was bad enough, but when that one was of the very lowest of spheres, an American, it was acute pain. He looked upon Edestone as a low comedian rather than as a gentleman in the hands of a chivalrous enemy, which the officer considered himself to be.
Edestone himself felt no resentment but the sort of pity that he would feel for one who was born with an hereditary weakness that he could no more control than the colour of his eyes. He was as sorry as he would have been, had he been guilty of laughing at the irregularity of another man’s teeth which were not so perfect as his own.
He got up and walked slowly over toward his travelling companion. The handsome warrior quickly let his hand fall to his loaded automatic as if he expected to be attacked, but when he saw Edestone standing quietly before him, and with a rather sad smile on his face, he turned back to his reading and refused to look up, even after Edestone had begun to speak.
“I am sorry, Count von Hemelstein,” said the inventor, “to have offended you, and I beg that you will accept my most humble apology. We Americans, I fear, are too much inclined to let our sense of humour run away with us.”
The soldier raised his eyes with a threatening look, not knowing but that Edestone was still poking fun at him, or else, fearing the consequences of his rashness, was trying to ingratiate himself with his jailer. But after that glance at Edestone’s face he felt confident that his apology was sincere. The Prussian’s pride was too deeply wounded, however, for him to give in at once.
“I am glad, Mr. Edestone,” he replied stiffly, “that you realize that it is not customary to speak lightly of Germany in the presence of one of her officers.”
“I know,” exclaimed Edestone, “it was extremely bad taste for me to criticize a civilization so much older than my own, but you will,” he smiled, “forgive the cowboy I am sure when he tells you he is sorry.” Then seeing by the expression of the officer’s face that he had won the day: “Come now, Count von Hemelstein, let’s be friends. I would not have liked you had you not resented my remarks, and I was a cad to take advantage of your absolutely defenceless position.”
The Count broke out into a hearty laugh, and jumping up took Edestone’s extended hand.
“You Americans,” he vowed, all traces of his ill-feeling gone, “are the most remarkable chaps. I never saw a cowboy, but if they are anything like you they must be descended from some branch of the Hohenzollern family.”
“No, I cannot claim that distinction,” laughed Edestone; “but I think perhaps there are many cowboys who if they knew and knowing cared to could boast of as distinguished a lineage. Did you ever breed dogs, Count? Well, if you have, you would know that the good points of the champion do not always appear in the oldest son of the oldest son, but spring up where we least expect to find them. And so it is I think with men; the good points are in the blood and will appear long after the man has lost his family tree. Sometimes they appear in individuals who show so strongly the traits of the champion that they scorn the existence of musty documents to tell them who they are.”
“Then, Mr. Edestone, you do not believe in our method of keeping our best blood where it belongs—at the top?”
“Yes, I do most thoroughly approve of some of your methods. They are perhaps the best that have yet been devised, but you have not yet found the true method of following the centre of the stream. You sometimes dip from an eddy, simply because you believe that at some time it might have been in the middle, and you allow the deep dark red torrent to carry its saturated solution by you.”
“Well, Mr. Edestone,” the Count smiled, “whether you are descended from a cowboy king or a business baron, you are deuced good company. I am glad that if I am to be cooped up here for two days it is with you instead of some conceited English duke, whose English grandfather was a fool and whose American grandfather was a knave—oh, I beg pardon. I am like poor little Alice in Wonderland when she was talking with the mouse. I seem always to insist upon talking about cats.”
Edestone laughed.
“And now, Mr. Edestone, that you have been such a brick and apologized to me, I shall have to admit that I was rather rude in what I said to you. I think that the German Government has every intention of treating you fairly, and if you will only listen to reason, you will find that they are as anxious to bring this war to a close as is the United States. I know, however, that Germany intends to have her fair share of the earth; we are righting for our national existence, and we will not, and in fact we cannot afford to, stop at anything. If you really do not intend to sell your invention to any of the countries of Europe, you can at least use your influence with the United States to keep out of this muss, and let us settle our little difficulties in our own way.”
Edestone became serious. “My sole object, Count von Hemelstein,” he said, “is to stop this war and settle these ‘little difficulties,’ as you call them, without further loss of life. If your Government will allow me to take back to England some assurance that it is now willing to discuss a settlement, I know that my Government will keep out of the discussion.”
The conversation was interrupted at this point by the stopping of the train at a station where the Count said he expected to take on the lunch baskets. With a comfortable lunch between them, and a bottle of wine to divide, they soon forgot their differences and laughed and joked like old friends.
“It is a great pity, Mr. Edestone,” said the Uhlan, “that you are not a German. I am sure the Kaiser would like you. He might even make you a Count, and then you could marry some woman of rank and with all your money you could be one of the greatest swells in Europe. He might make you an officer, too, so that you could wear a uniform and carry the decorations which he would confer upon you. Then when Americans came over to Kiel in their big yachts, you could tell the Emperor which were the real cowboy families and which were the Knickerbocker noblemen.”
“Well, that is exactly what I was thinking about you, Count von Hemelstein,” Edestone chuckled. “If you would only come over to America I would get you a nice position in one of our large department stores, where your knowledge of German would be of the greatest assistance to you and soon put you at the top. Your German-Jew boss would invite you to his palace at Long Branch to dinner some night before a holiday and you would meet his beautiful daughter. She would take you into the big parlour, which would be open that night, and say to all her friends: ‘I want you to shake hands with Count von Hemelstein, who is head salesman in Pa’s M. & D. Department.’ And she would be corrected by Ma, who would say: ‘No, dearie, you mean the M. & W. Department.’
“With your military training you would, by this time, have undoubtedly become a second lieutenant in one of our exclusive National Guard regiments, and after marrying ‘Dearie,’ you would come over to Germany and visit me at one of my castles on the Rhine. I would now have gambled away my entire fortune, and my son, the Baron von Edestone, would marry ‘Dearie’s’ daughter.”
So they passed the time with good-humoured chaffing, carefully avoiding more serious subjects, and when they reached Berlin they had become fast friends.
But as the train pulled into the German capital the Count leaned forward a trifle persuasively. “Now, Mr. Edestone,” he said, “we have had a deuced good time together, and to tell the truth I am sorry to turn you over because I do not believe these old fellows on the General Staff will understand you as I do, but don’t be an ass, I beg of you, and stand up against these wise old chaps. Do what they want you to do—they know better than you how to handle this complicated European situation. You will get no thanks for your trouble if you do not, and you may get your fingers rapped or even pretty severely pinched. My orders are to see you to some comfortable hotel, any that you may select. I would suggest the Hotel Adlon as perhaps the most comfortable.
“After that I am to take you to call on General von Lichtenstein, who will hear what you have to say, and if in his judgment you should go higher he will pass you on.”
“I am to see nothing more of you?” asked Edestone.
“My duty finishes when General von Lichtenstein takes you up. You will, of course, be watched and your every movement will be recorded, but that will not be my duty, nor here in Berlin will you be at all annoyed by it. Now that you are in Germany, you will be looked upon as a friend and treated accordingly, unless you are found not to be. I have given you my card, and I will take great pleasure in introducing you at the clubs or helping you in any way so long as it is consistent with my duty.”
“You are extremely kind, and I appreciate it very much, Count von Hemelstein.”
“Now above all things,” warned the Count, and his tone was very impressive, “if by any chance you should be ordered to appear before His Imperial Majesty, please be careful what you say. You have said things to me in the last two days which, understanding you as I do, I could overlook, but I would no more think of repeating them while you are in Germany than I would think of flying. They were not of a nature that would make it my duty to report them, but they might get you into no end of trouble. For instance, you would not be so foolish as to intimate that the Hohenzollern family is not in the middle of the ‘big stream.’” He smiled in spite of himself.
Then as the train rolled into the station he took Edestone’s hand and said: “Auf wiedersehen, my friend. I must now assume my other role of your escort of honour. Speak German,” he suggested quickly as the guards came into the car; “you will be less apt to be annoyed.”
Edestone was conducted hastily through the station, where automobiles waited to whisk him and his entire party off to the hotel. At his request, the trunks containing all his apparatus were sent to the American Embassy. He was not as familiar with Berlin as he was with the other capitals of Europe, but if he had not known that Germany was engaged in a most desperate war, and millions of her sons were being sacrificed, there was nothing that he saw as he rushed through the city that would have suggested it.
He was received at the hotel with extreme politeness, but it was the politeness that was insulting. The proprietor, waiters, and even the bell-boys treated him with poorly concealed contempt, and though he spoke to them in perfect German, would always answer in English, as if to show him that they knew he was of that despised race.
Count von Hemelstein left him with the understanding that he would call for him in the morning and conduct him to General von Lichtenstein.
That afternoon, Edestone took occasion to call at the American Embassy, where he found that Ambassador Gerard, broken down by the strain of the first few months of the war, during which he had accomplished such wonderful work, had been forced to go to Wiesbaden for a rest.
The Ambassador had left in charge Mr. William Jones, First Secretary of Legation, who with his wife was occupying the Embassy and representing the United States. The doctors had warned the Secretary that the Ambassador’s condition was such that he must have absolute quiet, and that he should under no circumstances be troubled or even communicated with in regard to affairs of state. Jones was, therefore, to all intents and purposes the Ambassador.
This suited Edestone’s plans perfectly, for Jones was only a few years older than himself and he had known him intimately since boyhood.
His friend received him with almost the delight of a man who has been marooned on a desert island and was pining for the sight of a friendly face.
“Well, well, Jack,” he said, “what foolish thing is this that you are up to now? We have received the most extraordinary instructions from the State Department—I gather that the Secretary of State has either lost his mind or that you have got him under a spell, and then with your hypnotic power have suggested that he order us to do things which we could not do in peace times and which are simply out of the question now. Don’t you people over home understand that these Germans, from the Kaiser to the lowest peasant, are all in such an exalted state of Anglophobia that they regard everyone with distrust, and are especially suspicious of us. My advice to you, as Lawrence would say,”—referring to one of his under-secretaries, a college mate and intimate friend of Edestone’s,—“is to ‘can that high-brow stuff’ and come down to earth.”
“Now, speaking for myself as your friend, I advise you to go and see General von Lichtenstein, whom you will find a delightful old gentleman but as wise as Solomon’s aunt. Talk to him like a sweet little boy, and then come back to the Legation and stop with us while you see something of the war. I can take you to within one hundred and fifty miles of the firing line and show you the crack regiments of Germany looking as happy and sleek as if they were merely out for one of the yearly manoeuvres. I would have difficulty, though, in showing you any of the wounded, as they are very careful to see that we are not offended by any of the horrors that one reads of in the American papers.”
“Berlin is being forced to fiddle, eh, while Germany is burning?”
“Yes, she suggests the hysterical condition of Paris just before the Reign of Terror, while I, like Benjamin Franklin, in ‘undertaker’s clothes’ in the midst of barbaric splendour, wait for the inevitable.”
“Is your face, like his, ‘as well known as that of the moon’?” asked Edestone.
“Yes, but a thing to be insulted, not like his to be painted on the lids of snuff-boxes, as souvenirs for kings.
“Or if that does not amuse you, Mrs. Jones can introduce you to some of the prettiest girls you ever saw.”
“Big, strong, fat, and healthy, I suppose, with red faces looking as if they had just been washed with soap and water.”
“Well, then we might have some golf, and if you will give me half a stroke, I will play you $5 a hole and $50 on the game. Or if that is too rich for your blood, I will play you dollar Nassau. In fact, Jack, I will do anything to get this foolish idea out of your head. These people can’t see a joke at any time, but to try one now might put you into a very serious if not dangerous position. Now you go along and see Lawrence, as I have to look after some American refugees who are waiting in the outer office. You will dine with us tonight, of course.”
Lawrence Stuyvesant, to whom the Secretary had referred, appeared at the door at that moment and beckoned to Edestone. He was one of those irrepressible Americans, born with an absolute lack of respect for anything that suggested convention, at home in any company and showing absolutely no preference. He would be found joking with the stokers in the engine room when he might be walking with the Admiral on the quarter-deck, flirting with a deaf old Duchess when he might be supping with the leader of the ballet. With a sense of humour that would have made his fortune on the stage, he spoke half-a-dozen languages and a dozen dialects. He could imitate the Kaiser or give a Yiddish dialect to a Chinaman. Light-hearted to a fault, he would make a joke at anyone’s expense, preferably his own. An entertaining chap, but a rolling stone that could roll up hill or skip lightly over the surface of a placid lake with equal facility. He had already run through two considerable fortunes, and had been almost everything from a camel driver to a yacht’s captain. Now he imagined himself to be a diplomat.
“Behold the dreamer cometh,” he said in Yiddish dialect as Edestone approached, and grasping the inventor by both hands, dragged him into the other room, and began to ask questions so fast that a Chicago reporter, had he heard, would have died of sheer mortification.
After he had gotten all the information that he could pump, pull, and squeeze out of Edestone, he shook his head discouragingly.
“I am darn glad to see you, old chap,” he said, “but I am sorry to hear that you have come over to try and reason with this bunch of nuts. Don’t you know they are so damn conceited that if you were to tell them that every time you look at a German you see two men, they would believe you; and then as if they hated to lie to themselves, they would say perhaps it was an optical illusion. Tell them that God did not create anyone but the Germans and that he left the rest of the world to the students in his office, and they will give you a smile of assent.” Edestone smiled indulgently. “Tell them that when the Kaiser frowns every wheel in the United States stops and refuses to move until reassured by the German papers that it is but the frown of an indulgent father and not the thunder of their future War Lord, and they will give a knowing look. Tell them that only German is taught in our public schools, and that any child who does not double-cross himself at the mention of the name of any of the North German Lloyd steamers is taken out and shot, and they will say, ‘Ach so?’
“But just you pull something about what a hit Brother Henry made in the United States, especially with the navy, and what a swell chance he would have of being elected Admiral when Dewey resigns, then look out! Get under your umbrella and sit perfectly still until the storm passes. Keep well down in the trenches and don’t expose anything that you do not want sent to the cleaners. For when one of these Dutchmen begins to splutter, there is nothing short of the U-29 that can stand the tidal wave of beer and sauerkraut which has been lying in wait for some unsuspecting neutral in their flabby jowls like nuts in a squirrel’s cheek. They back-fire, skip, short-circuit, and finally blow up, and if you don’t throw on a bucket or two of flattery quick, you’ve got a duel on your hands, which for an American in this country means that you get it going and coming.”
Edestone, knowing Lawrence well, took what he said largely as a joke; but from his own observations and from what Jones had told him he felt convinced that there did not exist the kindest feeling for Americans in Berlin. Brushing all this aside, he turned to Lawrence with a businesslike air:
“Where are the trunks that I sent to the Embassy?” he asked. “Have they got here yet?”
“Down in the basement,” Lawrence nodded.
“I’d like to get something out of them.”
“Well, why look at me?” inquired Lawrence. “I’m no baggage smasher.”
“It’s a pity you’re not,” rejoined Edestone. “You would be better at that than you are at diplomacy. However, all I want is for you to have someone show me where they are.”
“Fred, show the King of America where his royal impedimenta await his royal pleasure,” Lawrence directed a young man with the manners of a Bowery boy, who appeared in answer to his summons.
With him Edestone went down to the trunks and took from one of them a small receiving instrument with a dial attachment similar to the one on top of the Deionizer, which he had dropped into the Channel. Then after a few words with his other friends in the Embassy, he went back to the hotel.
The next morning Count von Hemelstein called, and it was quite like meeting an old friend. Edestone was really sorry when, the Count leaving him at the door of General Headquarters said: “This is where I turn you over to my superiors. These are times that try men’s souls, and you are now dealing with men who must win.”
They had arrived on the stroke of the hour, and Edestone was quickly taken in charge and shown without a moment’s delay into the presence of General von Lichtenstein. The General was a man whose age was impossible to tell. He was over sixty, but how much over one found it hard to estimate. He was erect and rather thin, and he wore his uniform with the care of a much younger man. The lines about his mouth and chin, which are such a sure index, were hidden by a full beard, white as snow and rather long. His high forehead was half covered by a huge shock of hair, also perfectly white, which was parted neatly on the side. His steel-blue eyes, looking out through a pair of gold-rimmed spectacles, were bright, but were set so far back under his heavy brows that they looked very old, very wise, and almost mysterious.
When Edestone was brought into the room without any form of introduction, the General rose and greeted him in the most kind and fatherly manner.
“Good-morning, Mr. Edestone,” he said in English with a marked accent. “I am very glad to see you,” and, putting out his hand with an air of simple kindness as if to lead him to a chair, he said: “Won’t you sit down, sir?
“You must not mind if I treat you like a boy,” he went on with a gentle smile; “you are about the age of my own son who was killed at Ypres. I am too old to fight any more, so they keep me here to entertain distinguished strangers like yourself,” and he laughed quietly to himself, looking at Edestone as he might at a little boy whom he had just told that he had on a very pretty suit of clothes.
He picked up from his desk, a box of very large cigars, selected two, and, after looking very carefully at one to see that it was absolutely perfect, handed it without a word to Edestone. After he had watched with great interest to see that Edestone had lighted his cigar properly, he lighted his own.
“I see by the way you smoke that you are a good judge of tobacco. I have always understood that you Americans like very fresh cigars and smoke them immediately after they are made. I like them old myself.”
“You are thinking of Cuba, perhaps,” suggested Edestone.
“Oh, that is true,” admitted the old gentleman. “The Americans live in the United States and you do not allow the other inhabitants of the hemisphere to the north or to the south of you to use that name. You are perfectly right; you are—what do you call it?—the boss,” and again he smiled his gentle smile.
“I get all my cigars from England,” he continued. “The English and I have very similar tastes—in cigars. I have a very old friend, Professor Weibezhal, who lives in England, and he sends them over to me. I just received these a few days ago. He is not having a very good time over there now, he writes me. He can’t get what he wants to eat, and he says he misses his German beer.”
Edestone could scarcely realize that he was sitting in General Headquarters, the very heart of German militarism, talking to General von Lichtenstein, the most powerful and astute man in all Europe. But for the German accent and magnificent uniform it might have been in the Union Club in New York, and he himself talking to a very nice, rather simple-minded old gentleman, who was flattered by the attention of a younger man.
After the General had inquired about a friend of his who lived in America—he said he did not know exactly where, not in New York, but some town near there, Cincinnati or perhaps St. Louis. This struck Edestone as strange when he thought of the springs on his father’s old place which were marked on a German map that he had seen, although he himself did not know of their existence, and he had spent his entire childhood roaming all over it.
Finally, when he had told him one or two stories about an American woman whom he had been quite fond of when he was a young man, the General said in a most apologetic manner:
“Now I must not keep you. I suppose you would like to go out with some of the younger officers and see something of this war, now that you are over here. Or, by the way, it was about some discovery or invention you have made that you called to see me, was it not? What is this invention, tell me, and exactly what is it that you want the German Government to do? If you will explain to me and I can understand, I will be glad to help you in any way I can. Of course you know that I am a very small part of the German Empire. I am, however, in a position to bring your wishes to those who are above me and are all-powerful.”
Then, while Edestone explained to him everything in regard to his mission except the actual construction of the Deionizer, the old General sat quietly smoking, smiling occasionally and listening with the attention that a man might show who was being told of an improvement in some machine in which he had no personal interest but was glad to be enlightened, although up to that time the matter had been something he had never thought much about.
He would now and then say, “How very interesting!” “Can that be possible?” “Is that so?” Not even when Edestone described the pictures shown to the King of England did he manifest any feeling except that of kindly interest in a most charming young man, who was taking a great deal of trouble to explain his youthful hopes to a rather slow-thinking old one.
He allowed Edestone to talk on, not even interrupting him, to ask a single question, and when the visitor had finished by expressing the hope that he might be instrumental in bringing the war to a close, General von Lichtenstein replied with apparent sincerity:
“I really see no reason why you should not. You are a brilliant inventor, apparently a hard worker, and above all you seem willing to give your talents to the world for the benefit of your fellow-men. The only thing that you lack is age and experience. I am not an inventor, I cannot work hard any more, and I am not known as a philanthropist, but I have age and I have experience, so I think that you and I might make a good combination. Leave this to me, and I think I can show you how all that you wish to accomplish can be accomplished, if not exactly in your way, in a way which I think you will agree with me is a better way. Whereas I should not dare to speak for His Imperial Majesty, the Kaiser, I believe I am perfectly safe in saying that he will see you and inspect your photographs, drawings, and anything else that you may wish to show him. I will see him and let you know when and where.”
He laid his hand on Edestone’s shoulder and walked with him as far as the door.
“You are a fine young fellow,” he said with a hearty grasp of the hand as he bade him goodbye, “and all you want is an old head on your broad young shoulders. Let the old man help you, and everything will be all right.”
When Edestone was on the outside and thought over all that the General had said, he would have been delighted with the turn things had taken had he not been warned by Jones and did he not recall what Count von Hemelstein had said.
Being so straightforward himself, he could not understand deceit in others, and when he recalled the almost inspired expression on the kind old gentleman’s face when he spoke of his son so recently killed in battle, he could not bring himself to believe that this was the trained diplomat of iron who covered with that gentle exterior a determination to crush and kill anything that came between him and the accomplishment of the great purpose, the great cause to which he had gladly sacrificed his first-born and the heir to his name and title.
It was nearly noon, Greenwich time, now, so Edestone hurried back to his hotel to receive from “Specs” the daily signal: “Awaiting orders. All is well.”
With the forethought of a good general he wished to be prepared for any emergency, and when the needle of the receiver, which he had taken from the trunk at the Embassy, recorded the reassuring message, Edestone thoroughly satisfied with the work of the morning returned to the Embassy to keep his appointment with Lawrence.
Lawrence was on the lookout for him when he arrived at the Embassy, and conducted him at once to his own private quarters, where they could be absolutely alone.
“Now, Lawrence,” said Edestone, when they had made themselves comfortable, “I want your assistance. Are you game?”
“Well I ask you, you old simp! Did you not initiate me, in my freshman year, in the Ki Ki Ki, and do you think that I have forgotten the oath that I took while sitting with my naked back within a foot of a red-hot stove, my fingers in a bucket of red ink, and you branding me with a lump of ice?” He went through with some ridiculous gesticulations to prove the honours that had been bestowed upon him.
“I know, old man, but this is no college boy performance. Before you commit yourself I want you to understand that you are running great danger. Besides, I don’t think that the Acting Ambassador would exactly approve, as it might involve the United States. Desperate situations, though, have to be met sometimes with desperate measures.”
“Yours is a noble heart, Lord Reginald Bolingbroke, and the child is safe in the hands of Jack Hathaway, the Boy Scout. Go on, I listen. Your story interests me strangely,” said Lawrence.
Edestone paid no attention to this, but went on in the same manner: “I can assure you that, except as a last resort, you will not be called on to do anything that will be an actual violation of our neutrality, and not even then until I have obtained the permission of the Secretary of the Embassy. But from now on, Lawrence, you will be looked upon with great suspicion, and you may have trouble explaining yourself out of a German prison, if not from in front of a firing squad.” He eyed the younger man keenly as if questioning whether or not he could rely upon him, and upon seeing this, Lawrence altered his light tone and for once spoke soberly.
“Jack Edestone, you know perfectly well that you can depend upon me, while I know that you will not do anything that is not strictly on the level, so what’s the use of saying anything more. I’m with you. What is it you want?”
“Well, take me up on the roof,” said Edestone.
“Say, Bo, is that all?”
“Now be quiet, Lawrence; do what you are told. You will get a good run for your money, so for Heaven’s sake do be serious.”
The roof, which was reached by elevator, was flat, covered with cement, and but for the chimneys, a few skylights, and the penthouse over the elevator shaft, was unencumbered.
Edestone first went over and examined this penthouse with great care. He found as he expected a small free space over the machinery which was entirely hidden from view and could be reached only from the roof of the car when it was run to the top of the elevator shaft, and then by climbing over the big drum around which the cable ran. It was perfectly dark inside and one could remain there for days without being discovered.
After thoroughly inspecting this, the inventor went over and examined the tall flag-pole, first saluting the stars and stripes which were waving from it. Finally, appearing satisfied, he led Lawrence to the edge of the roof and stood for a moment looking over the coping wall at the city below. He seemed to be establishing his bearings, but seeing one of the soldiers who was stationed in the street near the Embassy, he stepped back quickly.
“Come below,” he drew Lawrence back. “We must not be seen.”
Lawrence, who by this time was satisfied that there was going to be some real excitement, led the way back to his apartments.
“Little did I think,” said Edestone with a smile when they were once more settled, “when I used to chase you out of the wireless room on board the Storm Queen, Lawrence, that I would some day make use of the information which you got there, and which cost me a new instrument and one of the best operators I ever had, but that is the reason I am calling on you now.”
“Good,” cried Lawrence. “I am the best little sparker that ever sent an S. O. S. over the blue between drinks of salt water, while swimming on my back around the wireless room chased by a man-eating shark. And as for a catcher, why, my boy, I can receive while eating a piece of toast.”
“All right,” said Edestone with a laugh; “as your references from your last place are so good you shall have the job. You took charge of my trunks, did you not?”
“Yes,” replied Lawrence.
“Well, in the one marked ‘Black,’ there is a small wireless instrument. The Germans know that I have it, and I realize that they let it get through in the hope of picking up any messages I may send out. They do not know, however, that I intend to send but two, and these will be both of but one word each. If they can make head or tail of these, they are welcome. Still, on Jones’s account, I want them not to know that I am sending from here, nor do I care to have Jones know that this instrument is in the Embassy. I want you to install it in the penthouse above the drum, and I will assure you that if I ask you to send out my two messages, it will not be until after Jones has given his consent. Do you think that you can do this?”
Lawrence pondered for some moments. “Of course I can send the messages, and I can install the instrument too, but how to do it without letting the Secretary know or keeping the damn German servants from catching on I don’t quite see.”
“I have thought of all that. The elevator is an electric one and any person can run it by pushing the button. All you have to do then is to unpack the wireless instrument here in your room, and after you have adjusted it you can certainly arrange in some way to get it on top of the elevator car?”
“Yes,” Lawrence nodded.
“Now my Mr. Black, who is at the hotel, is one of the best electricians in America. He can install the instrument easily, and I will tell you how. In the other trunk I sent up is a moving-picture machine——”
“Oh, I say, come now!” said Lawrence. “I suppose you are going to tell me next that you’ve got a setting hen in another trunk and that you are going to bribe Fritz and Karl with fresh eggs. And that’s no merry jest; we haven’t seen a fresh egg in Berlin in six months.”
“No, Lawrence, I’m not joking. I mean exactly what I say. I have a moving-picture machine with me and lots of films, interesting ones too, and I propose to give a show right here in the Embassy. I will ask the Secretary to allow every servant in the house to come in and see it. I can keep them quiet for an hour, and during that time you can get Black, who will be acting as my helper, into the elevator shaft and run him up to the top of the penthouse. You can depend upon him to do the rest, and all you will have to do after that is to see that he gets down before I turn up the lights, when your absence might be remarked. Isn’t that simple enough?”
“But how am I to get up there to send the messages when the time comes?” asked Lawrence.
“I have not thought of that yet. You may not have to send any messages at all, and if you do, it will not be for some little time, so perhaps it’s just as well that you can’t get up there without my assistance.”
Then with a jolly laugh, which showed that although he was pitting his strength and wits against the great General Staff, the most wonderful machine on earth, he was as light-hearted as a boy, he said:
“You might, as you did on the yacht, want to see the wheels go ‘round, or else you’d be sending messages off to a lot of girls.
“Now, make haste,” he directed, “send for the trunk marked ‘Black.’”
With the arrival of the trunk the machine was soon adjusted, and Edestone having tested Lawrence’s knowledge, and explained to him again exactly what he was to do, gave him orally all that was necessary for him to know about the code that was to be used.
A little later, when they rejoined Jones, the Acting Ambassador, he wanted to know what they had been up to. “Has Lawrence been giving you the telephone numbers of some of these prospective war brides,” he asked, “or does he want you to take tea with some Royal Princess? You know, Jack, Lawrence seems to be quite a favourite in the very smart army set. It appears that they have heard that his grandfather was the military governor of New York. That makes him eligible. And besides, he is teaching the entire royal family the latest American dances.”
“Well, if you care to know what we have been up to,” said Edestone, “I don’t mind telling you that we have been arranging for a little moving-picture entertainment here at the Embassy. Have we your permission to go ahead with it? It would be a little treat for the people here in the house.”
“Certainly,” consented Jones. “Go as far as you like. I myself will be glad to see something beside battles and dead men. But why in the name of common sense have you lugged a moving-picture machine all the way over from America when you might have brought us some potatoes? I suppose, of course, it has something to do with your fool scheme. Well, as long as it doesn’t get us into trouble, and helps to take our minds off this war, I haven’t any objection. When do you propose to have your show?”
“I can’t exactly say as to that,” Edestone answered. “It all depends upon Lawrence, who is to be my trap-man. He had better fix the date.” He looked at the other conspirator with a questioning glance.
“We’ll have it tonight then,” said Lawrence. “I think I can get up my part by that time.” He made significant faces at Edestone behind the Secretary’s back.
“Tonight’s the night, eh?” said Jones with a smile. “Very well, we’ll all be on hand.”
Edestone, after his experiences on the frontier, and his two days’ journey shut up in the railroad car, greatly enjoyed these evenings with his old friends, the Joneses; and found pleasure in meeting some of Mrs. Jones’s young friends, who were delighted when they heard of the moving-picture show.
Later, while the Secretary of Legation and Edestone were alone, Lawrence having insisted upon helping Black install the moving-picture machine, Jones turned to his guest.
“I saw General von Lichtenstein at the club this afternoon,” he said. “He seemed to be delighted with you, Jack. Said you were a fine young man, and will not believe that you are not of German descent. He hopes to present you when the Emperor returns to Berlin, which he says will be in a few days. When I told him that you had not told me what your invention was he merely laughed. I know he did not believe me. He seems to think that the United States has something to do with sending you over here. He is a sly old fox and I tell you to look out for him.”
He might have added more but Lawrence appeared just then and, imitating a barker in a sideshow, announced that everything was ready for the performance.
The entertainment proved a brilliant success. Edestone showed some scenes from America which he had brought over to amuse the distinguished audiences he had expected to meet in Europe. The pictures showing him tossing great weights and men about the room delighted the servants, but the Secretary only looked bored and Mrs. Jones did not hesitate to say that she thought Edestone must be losing his mind, travelling all around the world with such silly things.
But it answered his purposes. Lawrence soon came in and whispered to him that Mr. Black and the wireless machine were safely up in the penthouse, and if Edestone could hold his audience for a half-an-hour longer the work would be finished.
Edestone then threw on the screen all the crowned heads of Europe, taking tea, playing tennis, and laying corner-stones. He had some especially fine pictures of the German Emperor. He was getting a little nervous though as he found his supply of films running short, but at that moment he spied Lawrence entering the door, who gave the signal “All is well.”
The Secretary, after the entertainment, pressed Edestone to tell him something more about his invention, but Edestone shook his head.
“I am purposely keeping you out of this, William,” he said, “for if I get into trouble I don’t want to drag you and the Missus in with me.”
Then with the promise that he would move around to the Embassy in the morning, he left for his hotel.