Part 5

“It is a mere accident,” said Spoerri. “I had to go to Switzerland in a hurry, and down there in the Rhine valley a cowl is more useful than even a genuine frontier pass. The last pass I had is in St. Gallen, and you know that I had to leave there hastily. But I had left the list of securities with Schaffer, and he brought them to me at Altstetten to-day. It is not safe to send such things by post nowadays.”

When he said this they were sitting in a large, well-furnished dining-room. George served the supper, brought ready prepared from Munich, and warmed up on the electric stove. Still eating, Mabuse said:

“We will liquidate on the lake itself, and thus we shall gain five points more than on land, according to the lists. I have bought five million Italian five-lire pieces. They are coming to the Southern Tyrol, and must be taken to Switzerland by way of the Vorarlberg. You must look after that, Spoerri. The Italian agent is Dalbelli, in Meran. You must go there to-morrow. I give you a month to do it in, and then we shall start a fresh district. Switzerland is now strongly against the importation of silver, and so there is less competition. We shall get enough of the five-lire pieces in Italy, and I have tried to do it with French silver too, but since the Treaty of Versailles there are so many fresh business combines in France, and they give nobody anything because the majority of them have not been in trade before. Have you not noticed that?”

Spoerri nodded, making some inward calculation.

“Stop your calculations till I have done talking,” said Mabuse sharply, and Spoerri looked up in confusion.

Mabuse continued: “My confidential agent in the Government has informed me that meat-control will be abolished in Bavaria next month, but the matter will be kept dark. The difference in the prices prevailing in Bavaria and in Würtemberg is an enormous one, and for the first few weeks of decontrol it will still be very considerable. It would be a good thing to begin buying up now, however, and you can say that I am prepared to lay out ten million marks. Buy as much as you can get hold of; haste is wisdom in this respect. Inquire of Meggers in Stuttgart about the sales, and see that we have enough people for the transport. Everything must be completed within three days of giving the orders. We shall want from a thousand to twelve hundred head of cattle, and look out for beasts of good quality. No sheep or pigs--the risk is too great. Reckon it up for yourself before you do anything further. We get thirty per cent. on our purchase, and therefore we can allow ten per cent. on expenses. You must reckon more correctly than you did about the salvarsan.”

“That time I hadn’t calculated....”

“Exactly, you hadn’t calculated correctly. Pesch is withdrawing; let him be closely watched by the Removal Committee, for he is impulsive, and if he plays the slightest trick he can be strung up beside Haim. By the way, they haven’t found _him_ yet.... How much did you pay for the cerium?”

“It was dearer than....”

“Everything always is dearer than ... the Poles or the Bolsheviks can get it. How much?”

“Fifty marks.”

“Fifty Swiss francs then. They must have it, so don’t yield a stiver!”

He whistled into the speaking-tube under the table.

“George there?” he called out. “Everything in order?... Good. The _Rhine_ is waiting, Spoerri. George, you are to be pilot; don’t forget the securities. That’s all for the present”; and turning again to Spoerri, “You’ll be in no danger in going to Zürich, Spoerri, will you?”

“I am all right as soon as I’ve passed the Customs, and then I go on as a priest.”

“If you travel by the _Rhine_, you’ll avoid the Customs; you can take charge of the securities and put them in the bank, to the account of Salbaz de Marte, mining engineer. Here is the list: a million in German Luxemburg stock, two million German Colonial Loan, five hundred thousand-mark notes. These are to be changed at once into milreis; that gives a better exchange than either dollars or Swiss francs. Inform Dr. Ebenhügel that fresh securities have been deposited, and that I want him to make use of the first favourable opportunity and sell for milreis.... There is one rather difficult matter to settle: the disposal of the people who have been working for me in Constance. If they are unemployed....”

“Many don’t want to work any longer, in any case,” said Spoerri.

“I know. Those are the folks who have all they want; there’s nothing to fear from _them_. With my help they have got their own houses and are free of debt. But sometimes I have been obliged to take any workers I could get, and those who don’t own their houses should be carefully watched. The powder magazine is at Constance, for the young fellows live there, and if we suddenly withdraw these high wages from them, there is nothing for them to do but steal, and in a week’s time they’ll find themselves in prison and will be blabbing everything in their rage. Talk to George about this, and see what is to be done. He’s going there to-morrow. The safest thing would be to pack them off into the Foreign Legion. Go and see Magnard as soon as you have finished up in Zürich and Meran. Don’t forget to claim the commission for them. Give it to George, who can divide it among those concerned.... Authorize Böhm to sell the three motor-boats that we have on the lake besides the _Rhine_. _That_ always bears the ensign of the Royal Würtemberg Yacht Club and therefore is unnoticed. Keep the _Rhine_ in this neighbourhood for any emergency. The boat can do sixty kilometres if it is well handled. Let us go.”

George was waiting outside. The three men felt their way through the darkness to the landing-stage, where they could hear the boat’s engines throbbing.

“You have followed out my orders and there’s nothing on board?” said Mabuse.

“Nothing but the cerium.”

“Take it out then. I am not a dealer in scrap-iron!”

George hastened forward. Three men were busy in the gloom. Then Mabuse and Spoerri went on board and the boat started, going cautiously through the night. The engine scarcely throbbed. There was a slight vibration in the cabin where Mabuse sat, wrapped in his fur coat; then he went to the deck aft, and impatiently forward to the engine. After they had travelled for a while, he listened intently. It seemed to him as if through the sounds made by his own boat a noise reached his ears.

“Stop!” he cried suddenly.

George stopped the engine, and the sounds outside ceased. They started again, and immediately the sounds on the water, now on the right and again on the left, were heard once more. Mabuse went on the fore-deck, where the noise of the engine was not so distinct. From there he could hear them quite distinctly.

“We are pursued, or at any rate under surveillance,” he thought. “Can it be that lawyer-detective Wenk?” Calmly, yet defiantly, he got his pistols ready. In the darkness he tried to discern what flag the _Rhine_ was carrying, but it was impossible to find out.

“Spoerri,” he called out softly, and Spoerri came out of the cabin. “What are we travelling as? Don’t you hear that we are being followed?”

“No, no,” said Spoerri, “we are a Swiss patrol-boat to-night. I heard that the Germans were about, so I ordered the three other boats to act as convoy. One is travelling behind us, the others on each side. Nobody could reach us; we are already in Swiss waters.”

“How much a year do you earn in my service, that makes you take such care of me?” said Mabuse spitefully.

“Quite enough,” answered Spoerri; “but that is not why I do it.”

“Why then? Are you enamoured of my person, or is it merely the Christian charity that it suits you Swiss folk to assume since the war?”

“Yes,” said Spoerri simply.

“I have three and a half millions here in my dispatch-case. If you dared to, you would strangle me, but you don’t dare, and that is all there is about it. That is your pure humanity and love. During the last year you have had somewhere about eighty-five thousand, six hundred and seventy-seven marks or more from me.... Is that enough to stifle the desire to murder a man?”

“Yes,” said Spoerri once more.

“Then you are a slave--my slave. Do you hear me? You are my slave.”

“I hear you.”

“Shall I slap your face? No; I won’t touch your slave-skin with my own. I just spit in the air.”

“Into the sea. You won’t pick a quarrel with anybody. There is no point of honour on the Lake of Constance.”

“Point of honour is an expression that doesn’t exist. A point is no larger than a squashed fly, and that’s the extent of a man’s honour--yours too, eh? You have some honour, even if the Lake of Constance has not?”

“I have never measured it.”

“Speak sense when you talk to me. I won’t stand your tomfoolery.”

“We are getting close to the shore.”

“Are you shirking, fellow?”

“No.”

“You dog!” said Mabuse in a stifled voice, in growing wrath. “I feel hatred tingling in my finger-tips. I shall grasp you by the throat, you cur, you cowardly cur, and I shall annihilate you just as the electric current in the American death-chair does, you miserable wretch!”

At this moment the engine stopped. For some time the sounds of the boats behind them had ceased.

“Why have we stopped?” asked Mabuse angrily. “I gave no orders.”

“There is no signal from the shore.”

Then Mabuse came to himself again. He stood up, gnashing his teeth, and asked:

“What is the matter?”

“We must wait. We can always rely on Solly. There is something wrong.”

“Let us wait! Have you weapons ready?”

“Yes, but if we don’t get the signal, we’d better get into the skiff. Then we can row back to the other boats.”

Behind Romanshorn a searchlight began to play, throwing a beam of light into the sky. It moved lower and peered about through the darkness, probing closely and lingering in places, then was directed towards the waters in the middle of the lake. It rose in the sky once more and then fell pitilessly on the very spot where Mabuse’s boat was lying. His knees trembled under the tension.

Suddenly, however, the shaft of light was fixed on a house standing out prominently in Romanshorn, just where the new church stood on a hill, and those in the boat perceived that the other craft must be far beyond on the other side of the point, and did not signify any danger. Their boat remained in darkness. In the railway-station on the shore lamps hung here and there at some distance from each other, and their reflections gleamed fitfully on the black waters. Then Mabuse said sternly:

“No, we’ll stay here! Tell George to get the pneumatic gun fastened to the engine.”

Spoerri sprang to do his bidding.

Under the cushions there was a poison-gas installation. Mabuse opened the nozzle. The wind was from the south-west and therefore favourable to his purpose. He prepared masks for himself and his companions and tried their fastenings.

Then he saw on shore a light which shone out brightly and was at once extinguished, then came again and flickered and was still. The engine started again, and the boat was soon in the channel, gliding under the trees, where it finally came to a standstill. The engine was silent, and a man ashore threw out a cable. Then Mabuse heard someone say, “Dr. Ebenhügel.”

“Yes,” he ordered, “let him come on board.”

A dim form stepped across the gangway.

“It is I, Ebenhügel, Doctor. I have just come from Zürich. It is on account of my car that Solly did not give the signal punctually. The Customs authorities are on the watch every night with their cars now. Did you get my wire? There is something wrong, for the clerk has sent a warning. He could not tell us what was up, but from some reply to one of his superiors he gathered that it came to the Consulate headquarters in Zürich from the Munich Criminal Investigation Department.”

“So,” said Mabuse, closing his jaws firmly, “my lord Wenk is on the track, is he? Just you wait a while, my fine official!” Then, turning to Ebenhügel, he continued, “I am constantly in danger, but I’ve never come to grief yet.”

“I meant to say that this danger can only be averted in Munich. If anything goes wrong, they must not be able to put the responsibility on us here in Zürich.”

Mabuse answered roughly, “What do you mean by that?”

“This affair is of great importance for several people.”

“For whom then?”

“For myself, for example!”

Mabuse waved his hand with a threatening gesture of dismissal, while the other stood breathless.

“_I_ have not been drinking,” said Mabuse. “How came you to alter my plans for such a trifle?”

“I thought it was necessary to warn you. The post is being watched, and people are not reliable.”

“Who is to convince me that _you_ are reliable? You are one of the people too.”

“Our common interests should convince you, Doctor. I merely meant to tell you that it is from Munich that the danger threatens. You would be safe in Switzerland. You have accumulated wealth which allows you to live wherever you like. Stay here; you will be safe among us.”

“A lot _you_ know about that! Your business is to look after my investments, nothing else. You are but my manager. Enough on that head. Is there anything else to tell me?”

The lawyer described his latest financial operations to Mabuse, who took down the descriptions furnished him. Then he walked backwards and forwards alone on the foreshore for five minutes, to ease himself after his long sitting.

“Is Spoerri still there?” he asked. “Spoerri, you need not go to Zürich. Ebenhügel will take the portfolio with him. We will go back to Schachen together.”

Upon the return journey Mabuse could not remain still in one place. He was constantly backwards and forwards on the small deck. The three convoys were again throbbing in their neighbourhood, their sounds drowned in the ghostly darkness. Suddenly Mabuse called through the speaking-tube to George, demanding brandy. Spoerri heard the order and shrank in terror.

In the half-hour which the passage took, Mabuse drank the bottle empty. He was drunk when they landed, and he staggered through the darkness towards the house in front of them, having issued orders that they were not to follow for five minutes.

“We want more drink,” said he, when they were in the dining-room. “George, bring drinks!”

George shuddered, for he knew that the more the doctor drank, the more violent and unreasonable he became. Spoerri himself was always obliged to drink till he lost his senses. They drank champagne and brandy mixed in equal parts.

“This is liquid gold,” stuttered Mabuse thickly. “Here, George, bring bigger glasses! Let’s have the goblets. Spoerri, take a draught. You fool of a courier, drink; drink it down, you dog. Down with it into your currish throat! Now then, another! Drink till you can’t hold any more in that carcass of yours. I love to see you drink till you’re sick!”

Spoerri drank until everything swam round him and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

“And you, my lord Wenk! A State Attorney in Munich! Your notebook! _Your_ orders to the Criminal Investigation Department, forsooth! Just wait a moment, my fine gentleman! We’ll begin with Herr Hull, for he was the first.... (Drink, Spoerri, can’t you, you miserable country bumpkin, drink; drink as I do!) Let me see--Hull, yes, Edgar Hull, 34, Hubertusstrasse. Away with him, his turn first. George will look after it, and you can help him. The Carozza girl can contrive it. Find your accomplices. Write it down, it is the order of the ... Prince. (Drink it down, now!) Of the Prince, have you written that? Which prince, do you say? The Prince, the Emperor of Citopomar, in Southern Brazil. A word from his mouth and a thousand women lie bathed in their blood, five hundred men are reduced to impotence. One single word and a whole edifice totters! Don’t simper, you fool, or I’ll dash your brains out with this goblet!”

He flung the vessel down, shattering it in pieces, and with the fragments he threatened Spoerri.

“I ... I am writing it,” stammered Spoerri.

“A thousand women and five hundred men,” shouted Mabuse.

“Doctor,” said Spoerri hesitatingly, struggling with the intoxication overcoming his senses, “I did not hear; I do not know this Hull. What am _I_ to do with him? 34, Hubertusstrasse.... Do you really mean _me_, Doctor?”

Then Mabuse all at once stood upright, intoxicated as he was. “Yes, you!” he thundered, and then gave Spoerri a heavy blow with his fist, full on his forehead, knocking him senseless to the floor. “I am going to bed, George,” he shouted, overcome with rage. He left Spoerri lying where he was, and went out.

When he came into the dining-room again next morning, Spoerri was sitting there. Mabuse had breakfasted in bed.

“Show me your notes!” he ordered in a harsh voice. He ran through them quickly, found Hull’s address traced in drunken characters, and returned the book to Spoerri. “That’s all right,” said he, and Spoerri fawned upon him like a cur watching to avoid a kick.

That attitude of his did Mabuse good; it soothed and reconciled him, and he became talkative. Spoerri was quietly delighted to find the master friendly towards him, to know that the dread will of this imperious man inclined him to be amiable, as if recognizing his devotion.

“Spoerri,” said the Doctor, “I shall go to Constance with you. We mustn’t let those young men do anything stupid!”

Spoerri brightened up. “Oh, when they once see you, Doctor, there’ll be no trouble at all.”

The two men remained all day long at the villa. Mabuse drank, but no longer compelled Spoerri to do so. By midday he was already intoxicated. Spoerri, tired out by the carousal of the previous night, watched over Mabuse devotedly. He tried many simple devices to persuade him to stop drinking, but Mabuse soon saw through them, and ordered full bottles to be brought and no tricks to be played. Alcohol was a necessity to him; it inflamed his wild and evil spirit, and in the phantasies of intoxication he found all his great ideas. There was no thwarting of his will from without, and when drunk he felt himself enclosed as in a castle of the _Arabian Nights_. Nobody could understand that to him alcohol was the bringer of magic, the stream which intensified life and gave him creative power. He bathed in it as he might do in the love of some fair woman, yielding himself to it wholly, bridging chasms, attempting new feats, working unrestrainedly and overcoming all obstacles.... He became a law unto himself, a world of which he was the sun.

“Spoerri, how do you like Europe?” he stuttered.

“Oh, very much, Doctor,” answered Spoerri unreflectingly.

Then Mabuse broke out vehemently, “You shall _not_ go to Citopomar, to my Empire! Europe is a filthy, lousy country, fit for none but grubs and earthworms. It is the home of parasites, of all creepy, crawly creatures, but when I am in Citopomar--CITOPOMAR ... Spoerri, I shan’t take you with me. I am going to sleep now, and will see you later.”

He staggered out, and lying in his bedroom on his bed, fully dressed, he felt for a few moments as if he were himself the universe, beyond and above all bounds and limits, the power of his will surging over him as a stream of molten lava, bearing him with it towards the day when, in his distant kingdom, his power would be supreme over man and beast, and all Nature be subjugated to his impulses.

In the evening, when the twilight was descending, they drove to Constance. Mabuse was sober, silent and morose. His imagination was already busy and his nerves reacting to his stern resolves, as he thought of the crowds of young men in the town, which seemed but a mere speck on his horizon--men who had been working for him since the Armistice. From this very town he himself had made a new start when the war had driven him from his own vast plantations in the Solomon Isles back into the European vortex, and he could find nothing better to do than work for medical examinations and exchange his career in the Pacific for that of a doctor in a town of Southern Germany.

VI

Wenk was awakened by a feeling of chilliness, which set him shivering. He pulled his cloak round him, under the impression that the coverlet had slipped off his bed, but he soon became aware of his error. He sat up, feeling giddy and at first unable to recall anything. He came slowly to himself and then he perceived where he was and saw the castle buildings gleaming through the darkness.

He rose hastily and moved away, but he was still dazed, and had to jump about to get any warmth into his body. What could the time be? He felt for his watch, but it was not there, and then he went hastily through his pockets. His purse was missing; so, too, were his pocket-book and his official notebook. He had fallen into the hands of thieves. The strange thing was how it could have happened that he had escaped with his life?

Then sudden dread seized upon him. He held his head in his hands, setting his jaws firmly, striving to subdue his feeling of despair. His notebook was missing, and in this were to be found addresses, reports, information, data, plans of all kinds.... The very first thing he recalled about it was the opening page, on which the Hull affair was fully set forth.... Wenk now hurried straight forward. If only he could recover his notebook! He rushed on till he was out of breath, then stopped and asked himself, “What shall I do? Go to the nearest railway-station? But what is the time? It may be one o’clock, it may be five. How am I to tell? And when would the first train start? It might mean waiting in front of a closed railway-station for four, even five hours!” Then he reflected that if he were to wake anybody in the castle he would have to submit to questioning. No; that would do no good. Should he make a fuss about it? It was clear that the chauffeur had acted in obedience to the blond stranger’s orders. Had the latter really penetrated his disguise and laid his plans so cautiously and cleverly beforehand, or was it the usual thing that anyone who appeared in any way suspicious should at once be put to the test in this way? Could it be merely theft, and the book have been taken from him by accident? He realized that when he seated himself on the cushions he must have set the gas-current free, for there was no gas in the car when he got in. That had been arranged, then. No, it wasn’t that way either. It was something both simpler and safer. The driver could open the gas valve from his seat. Of course that was the way of it.

Thinking thus, Wenk reached the highroad, only half-conscious of his resolve to proceed to Munich on foot. He went as fast as he could, but every now and then he had to stop and wait till a feeling of giddiness had passed. That must be the effect of the gas. What sort of gas could it be that operated so rapidly and yet did so little harm? His foes might just as easily have used a deadly gas, then they would have got rid of him altogether. Why did they use a stupefying gas merely? Was it meant for a warning to him?

Now, at any rate, his notebook was in their hands, and perhaps they wanted nothing more of him than that. It was but an attack on his little notebook. Whose names were to be found there? Karstens’, for one ... and an account of all the occurrences in the gaming-houses with the sandy-bearded man and the old Professor, and in the Palace Hotel likewise. All the places where gambling was carried on were noted there too. It was clearly only his notebook that they wanted, and that they had succeeded in getting, but the book he had lost had meant a good deal to him.