CHAPTER VII

PRELIMINARY STEPS

Of all the parts I had ever thought to play, that of a Polish Irreconcilable was about the last. But for the stake I had at issue--to save Althea and win her--I would have turned Russian Nihilist had it been necessary.

The risk I did not take seriously. So far as I had gone at present I could put up a pretty good fight in my defence. If old Ziegler was right, and the German Government were really contemplating some move against England, my old journalistic work would serve as a cover for my action. I could readily justify myself in running almost any risk to unearth and disclose such a thing.

But it was a case where nothing short of success would serve. If the Jew was wrong, I might easily find myself in an ugly fix. I must be careful also not to be drawn in too far. My investment in seditious intrigue must be strictly limited to this one affair.

A few days at most ought to see the issue; and then, I could leave Berlin and, as I now began to hope, take Althea with me.

In regard to her, indeed, my morning's work had imposed an extremely distasteful task upon me. Borsen had confirmed the statement von Felsen had made to her as to her father's pardon in the event of the projected marriage. And I must tell her so.

I had seen for myself on the previous day that even on his unsupported statement she had been very close to giving her consent. Self-sacrifice had become a sort of second nature with her, and she was ready to go to almost any lengths to secure her father's safety and ensure Chalice's future.

Keep the facts from her I could not; but there was something I could do before I told her--tackle von Felsen himself and endeavour to force on his marriage with Hagar Ziegler.

He went in deadly fear of Hagar's father; and I resolved to retract the promise I had given von Felsen on the previous day to hold my tongue about his intention to marry Althea. A word to Ziegler would set him to work at once.

Von Felsen's action in inducing his father to attempt to intimidate me was an ample justification for my taking back my promise; but I would fight him fairly, and give him notice of what I meant to do.

When I reached home I found von Bernhoff closeted with my sister, and they appeared to have had a pretty warm conversation.

"Here is Paul," cried Bessie, as I entered. "Tell him, Herr Bernhoff." She was very excited, and not far removed from tears.

"What is it?" I asked turning to him.

"I have been asking your sister to do me the honour to betroth herself to me," he replied, with rather a disconcerted air.

"She has no doubt given you your answer."

"You had better tell the rest, Herr Bernhoff," cried Bessie indignantly.

"I have merely been saying that if she would consent I should become to that extent a member of your family, and so concerned to help you in keeping secret any matters which you do not desire to have disclosed."

"Plainer, please," I said very curtly,

"There are certain things----"

"Mention them," I broke in.

"You have a guest here, Mr. Bastable," he said, lifting his hands and smiling significantly.

"You have already given this--this gentleman an answer, Bessie?"

"Oh yes, and he said----"

"Never mind that for a moment. Just let me have a word or two with him alone." She got up at once, and he rose at the same time as if to go.

"I do not wish to discuss it with you, Mr. Bastable," he said uneasily.

"But I mean to discuss it with you," I retorted; and I opened the door for her and prevented his leaving. "Now we'll have it out together, von Bernhoff."

He made no reply and stared at me sullenly.

"I've got the hang of the matter, I think. You have asked my sister to be your wife; she has not consented; and in reply you have hinted that you will tell certain suspicions you entertain if she does not retract her refusal. Did you say that as evidence of your overwhelming affection for her or as a proof of your high sense of honour?"

He continued to glare at me in silence.

"You find that an inconvenient question, eh?"

Still the same dogged silence.

"You can't brazen this out by just staring at me, von Bernhoff. Don't be under any mistake in regard to that. Nor can you bully me, as you have tried to bully my sister. You are an officer, and belong to a regiment in which the other officers at any rate are gentlemen. As for your suspicions, you can go and shout them at the top of your voice on parade, for all I care. But both you and I know well enough what your fellow-officers will think of your conduct."

This touched him. He winced and began to protest. "I did not mean anything of the sort."

"I don't care a beggar's shirt what you say you meant. It's what you have done. I know your Colonel pretty well, and he shall be the judge in this."

"I protest----"

"To the devil with your protests," I cried angrily. "It is your action which matters. That's all. We'll go straight to him together."

All his doggedness had vanished now, and he was as limp as a chewed cigar end.

"I beg you will not do anything of the kind. If you like to make this a personal matter between us two----"

"Not I," I broke in with a short angry laugh. "I'll have no duel as a way out for you. You can convince your Colonel that you did not mean what your acts suggest. Come to him with me now--if you dare."

But he dared not. I knew that; for I knew what the result would be, and so did he. "I am very sorry," he stammered. "I apologize. I---- What more can I do?"

"You can get out of the house," and I threw open the door. "As for your suspicions, tell them to whom you please--but don't let me hear of it."

Without another word, without a glance even, he slunk out with his tail well between his legs, like the beaten cur he was.

I could afford to laugh at his threats, after my interview with Borsen and my recognition as a sort of unofficial "delegate" in Althea's affairs. There was a tacit agreement that I was to have some little time in which to arrange things, and any chatter from von Bernhoff was not likely to do any harm.

I told Bessie the result of my talk to von Bernhoff, and then went out to lunch at my club and make some inquiries about the inner working of this Polish Irreconcilable movement. As I was to be one of them, I had better know all I could.

I got plenty of rumours and reports and gossip and a few facts. As England always has her Irish question with its disaffected Nationalists subject to occasional spurts of violence, so Germany will always have a Polish question. But her policy of drastic measures and sharp repression drives the trouble beneath the surface, where it festers like a national canker.

Openly the Irreconcilables were keeping within the law, and seeking an alliance with the powerful Socialist party and other sections, in the hope that eventually the combination would become strong enough to dictate the policy of the Empire, when it was hoped they would use their power to aid the renationalization of Poland.

At the same time, however, they were intriguing incessantly to throw discredit on the Government by worming out all sorts of official secrets the disclosure of which would tell to the disadvantage of the Kaiser. Mole work which was hateful to those in power.

In addition to this some very sinister hints were dropped to me in confidence by a Polish journalist whom I knew to have excellent channels of information, about certain mysterious happenings, classed as "accidents," to Government property. More than one warship had been suddenly disabled; machinery in Government works had been damaged; defects in arms and ammunition had developed, and so on.

"You may take it that the official explanation is never the right one. If the truth is known it is not told," he declared; "but it probably is not known. You can draw your own inferences. But some day a bigger accident will happen, and then you may recall my words."

The news was anything but cheering. I had no mind to be mixed up with men who were planning a policy of violence, and I resolved to speed matters all I could and put an end to the connexion.

As a first step I would force on von Felsen's marriage with Ziegler's daughter. I determined to go to von Felsen at once and tell him point-blank that I should let Ziegler know the truth. On my way to him I called to see Chalice. She had just returned from Herr Grumpel and was in high spirits, because the date had been fixed for her first appearance.

"Think of it, Herr Bastable. In a week's time! Oh, I am nearly beside myself with delight," she cried, clasping her hands ecstatically.

"A good many things can happen in a week," I said drily.

"Now you are going to be horrid and make me uncomfortable," she pouted. She had a hundred moods to be assumed at will.

"I don't wish to be horrid, as you call it, but I do wish to speak seriously to you about----"

"But I don't want to be serious to-day," she broke in. "I want to talk about the great concert. Just think of my immense stroke of luck. The Herr had arranged a State concert with the Ventura as his Prima. She can't come to it, or she won't or something, and he is actually going to put me in her place. In the place of the great Ventura! Oh, I am like a wild thing when I think of it. And if you were a little bit of a friend, you'd be just as excited as I am."

"I'm afraid I am not," I replied somewhat ungraciously. She had not a thought for Althea; had not even mentioned her name.

"If you have come only to say disagreeable things, I wish you'd choose another day for them. You'll make me ready to shed tears in a minute."

"What are you going to do about Prince von Graven?"

"Oh, bother the Prince. I have no time to think of him to-day, nor for the whole week. Think of all it means to me! To appear instead of the great Ventura!"

"I'm sorry to be a wet blanket, but I must tell you----"

"No, no, no. I won't listen," she cried vehemently, putting her fingers in her ears and shaking her head vigorously. "Herr Grumpel said I must not have anything to excite me between now and the concert."

"There will be no concert at all for you if you do not listen to me, Fraeulein," I declared, as soon as I had a chance of getting a word in.

"Oh, I hate you, I hate you! Go away!" she cried like a child.

I sat on stolidly until she understood that I was really in earnest and that she could not get rid of me in that way, and then her manner changed suddenly. She became earnest and looked at me almost piteously.

"Of course I didn't mean that. If there is anything I ought to know which really does concern the concert, of course I will listen."

"You have not asked about Fraeulein Althea," I reminded her.

"Of course I know she is all right or I should have heard. Has she sent you now to frighten me?"

"I have not come to frighten you at all, and she does not know that I have come. I wish only to warn you."

"It is very much the same thing," she said pettishly again.

"Not at all the same thing, I assure you. No one would be more pleased if you were to make a great hit than I should be. But the fact is that before a week passes you are much more likely to be in the same plight as Fraeulein Althea than singing at a concert, unless you have cleared up this matter of the Prince."

"Do you mean they would try to arrest me? ME?"

"A great many things have happened since I saw you, and this morning I had it from a high authority that that step is under consideration. The one arrest has been decided on because Fraeulein Althea is the daughter of Baron von Ringheim, you are his granddaughter and can judge whether in such a case you would be likely to be acceptable to the Kaiser as the chief performer at a State concert."

The colour left her face as she listened, and when I ended she burst into a storm of tears. "You are cruel! It is infamous! Why persecute me in this way?" she cried over and over again. She was almost hysterical.

I said no more for the moment. If I tell the truth, I thought it only fair that she should be touched personally by some of the trouble which she had viewed with such philosophic indifference when it affected only Althea. With all her caprice and selfishness, however, she had plenty of shrewdness, and understood the gravity of what I had said.

Presently she choked down her emotion and seized my hand in both her own. "Forgive me for having spoken as I did. You are right, of course, and only acting as my friend in telling me this. But what shall I do?"

"Tell the truth, give up Prince von Graven, and let the Kaiser have his way in regard to this precious Imperial marriage."

"He would never forgive me," she wailed. "What does Althea advise?'"

Althea at last. I checked a smile. She could think of Althea when there was a difficulty to be solved. "I have not told her."

Suddenly she started as a fresh thought struck her. "You have quarrelled with the Prince, Herr Bastable."

"That is not the reason for my coming to you. I had some words with him because he would not be man enough to tell the truth and face the music."

"It was at my wish."

"I know that, but it does not make any difference to the fact that Fraeulein Althea was being sacrificed for the sake of the secret. But if the truth is not told, you may depend on it you will never have the chance of appearing at that concert."

"I don't know what to do."

I got up. "The others will not let me decide for you, and you must do as you will; but you can now see all that hangs on the decision."

"Oh, don't leave me, Herr Bastable. Help me," she cried, catching and holding my hand and backing her words with appealing glances.

"Give up the Prince--you do not really care for him; write a renunciation grounding it on the fact that you do not wish to go counter to the Kaiser's wish and will do anything rather than injure the Prince's future; and let me have the document to get it to the Emperor."

"Help me to write it. You write so cleverly."

"No. Don't have it machine made. Let yourself go in writing it. You have just heard of His Majesty's opposition, your heart is breaking, and so on."

"It is," she said, with a very piteous look.

"It will--if you don't get your chance at the concert. Think of all that means to you, and then persuade yourself that your emotion is for the loss of the Prince and not the sacrifice of your future."

It was rather brutal, but she only laughed. "I will try," she agreed; and saying that I would see her again on the following day, I left her to hurry to von Felsen.

I was convinced that she cared no more for the Prince than I did, and that she had merely kept him tied to her apron-strings as a possible means of advancing her interests. To me she stood for a type of calculating, callous selfishness; and yet to the Prince she appeared as a veritable queen among women. But then I was not in love with her, and he was; and he would certainly curse me heartily for the advice I had given her.

When I reached von Felsen's house a somewhat curious thing occurred. I was asked to wait a while; and as I stood thinking about the coming interview and staring out of the window into the now gloomy street, the electric lights of the room were switched on suddenly. I turned on the instant to find von Felsen in the act of closing the door which the servant must have left open.

He was not quite quick enough; for I caught sight of a man crossing the hall rapidly, and recognized him as a fellow named Dragen, one of the worst characters in Berlin, the bully and worse of a low gambling hell. I had come across him in my old newspaper work in connexion with a very unsavoury case.

"Who was that?" I asked sharply.

"Only my servant. What do you mean? And why do you come to me?" and von Felsen shut the door and stood before it.

Why the lie? Why had he been at such pains to let the man have a good sight of me? And how long had they been in the room before I knew of their presence?