I had time to ponder over my situation. I was thoroughly angry, chiefly with myself. Here I was, an old, and presumably experienced, secret agent and I was caught by a simple device. But the simplicity got me! When one is prepared for elaborate schemes, the simplest trick lands one high and dry. Still I could see no daylight. They could not hope to keep me on this preposterous charge. A single wire to Berlin would settle the matter, but then there would be a delay. I would not reach Paris until six o'clock at night. Wedel had insisted that I be there at noon. Hum!

Delays at this time were of tremendous importance. A difference of six hours might mean war. Powerful influences in Germany were all for war. It filled the air. It needed only a false or overstep on the part of any government official to bring about an explosion. France seemed fairly itching for a fight. My verbal message to the captain of the Panther must be delivered on schedule or the explosion might occur. I began to see what they hoped to gain by the trick of detaining me, but how they got word of my mission I have never been able to learn. I must have been shadowed from my lodging to the Wilhelmstra.s.se and subsequently lain in wait for on general principles.

According to the time-table, the Orient Express stops at Cologne nine minutes. This time it stopped eleven. The station master held it up.

After the party in the next compartment made their charge, we all hurried to his office. I called the station master aside and showed him my Secret Service card.

I showed him a package addressed and sealed to the German Emba.s.sy at Paris. It was an official linen envelope tied with a black and white silk cord and with the Foreign Office seal on the back. He was impressed.

"This is a ridiculous charge," I declared. "Telephone the Wilhelmstra.s.se at my expense. Detain me and you do so at your own peril. That is all. I have given you the facts. I put no obstacle in the path of your duty. I judge, though, that you are a man of discretion."

The station master _was_ a man of discretion. I could imagine what was going through his mind:

"This fellow who says he is the Emperor's messenger," he doubtless thought, "has three more hours on that train before he crosses the German border. If he isn't what he claims to be, we can catch him at the Frontier. If he is what he claims to be and I hold him here, I will get in trouble."

Finally, he told the others that their charge was too thin and they hurriedly left his office. I never saw them again. The station master escorted me to my compartment and I noticed that from Cologne to the French Frontier I had no other traveling companions. My arrival and what I accomplished in Paris is commonplace. Arriving in the Gare du Norde, I took a taxi to the German Emba.s.sy on the Rue de Lille, where an under-secretary signed for my dispatches and handed me two letters addressed to the Emba.s.sy in Madrid. I immediately posted his receipt to the Wilhelmstra.s.se, something German secret agents always must do--mail the Foreign Office signatures for doc.u.ments as soon as they are delivered. Without further adventure I reached Madrid. As the train was four hours late I did not present myself at the Emba.s.sy. I was met by a commissaire at the station, delivered him the paper, received his signature, posted it to the Wilhelmstra.s.se, and made connections for Barcelona. Somewhere off the city, on the open sea, the _Panther_ was waiting.

With the utmost difficulty I chartered a tug and in the twilight set off to find the _Panther_. It was coming night when we finally saw her dark trim hull lying against the horizon. Well named the _Panther_, for in this case a false spring by her meant war. As we steamed up alongside a sentry hailed us from the deck. I shouted that I had come to see the Captain, but he told us to stand off. Finally, after persistently hailing the warship, the officer of the watch came to the rail and held parley with me.

"I have Imperial orders to see the Captain," I shouted.

Apparently this satisfied him, for he let me come on board. Without further delay I was shown into the Captain's room. Very important, the Captain. Picture him, a man in the forties, straight-backed, rather jolly, and with one of those German naval beards. The slightest mistake by the Captain of the _Panther_ and England and France would have flung themselves into war with Germany. He stood for a moment regarding me, then he said,

"Well, what is this? What is your Wilhelmstra.s.se number?"

"Seventeen," I told him.

That appeared to satisfy the Captain. I knew that the Wilhelmstra.s.se had wired him that "Number Seventeen" was coming. Still he was careful.

"Where were your first instructions received?"

"From Wedel."

"Subsequently?"

I felt him looking at me sharply.

"Confirmed by the Emperor," I replied, "and I deliver you herewith the following message. You are requested to use the private service code as soon as I have delivered this message to you and repeat it at once direct to Count Wedel."

The Captain got up and, moving noiselessly to the door, opened it swiftly. There was no one about.

"All right," he said, "let me have it."

I repeated what I had memorized, what the Emperor had given me in the secret chamber and immediately afterward destroyed all visible trace of. I said: "On no account, it does not matter what official commands you have received or may receive, are you to use open force when the _Panther_ goes to Agidir. No matter what stress is brought to bear upon you by arising conditions, no matter what affront may be done your code of naval honor, you are under no circ.u.mstances to use any force against France or England."

Like myself, when the Emperor gave me that message, the Captain of the _Panther_ was dumbfounded. It was a direct contradiction of the official orders he had received from the Foreign Office to go to Morocco and make a demonstration against the French and the English interests. Those previous orders had been to create war, this verbal message was to stop war. Could the German "jingos," the big gun manufacturers, the sh.e.l.l people, the army and navy men, the powerful feudal faction have heard me deliver that message to the Captain of the _Panther_, they would have bellowed in rage. The whole empire wanted war, but the tired, swarthy faced man in the little underground chamber at the Wilhelmstra.s.se, not "absolutely absolute" as he is popularly supposed to be, deemed it wise not to fly in the face of public opinion at the time and countermand the official orders to the _Panther_. So he had done so in the dark, verbally, by me, knowing that so he served the best interests of his empire.

The rest is contemporary history. You remember how, on Sunday morning, July 7, the _Panther_ steamed to Morocco, how it forced its way into the harbor of Agadir and created an international sensation by remaining there more than two weeks. You remember how a French and an English warship came simultaneously, how they formed in what was equivalent to common line and how, with officers and everybody itching to open fire, war just missed being precipitated. You may not know that the British and French officers sent an ultimatum to the Captain of the _Panther_. Unless he left Agadir he would be forced to leave.

That meant war.

Now, had the Captain of the _Panther_ not received the private message from the Emperor, he would have been forced by his naval code to resist this ultimatum by force. Had he gone there acting under the original official orders, red war would have blazed across in Agadir Harbor. The slightest slip would have caused it--the report of a rifle. But the _Panther_ steamed away.

And this is the cleverest part of the Emperor's scheme; he knew that France and England were allies, he didn't know, though, just how sincere this alliance was. By sending the _Panther_ into Agadir he learned that the _entente cordiale_ really meant something, that England and France were allies, that they were prepared to resist Germany shoulder to shoulder in war. It took a master stroke to bring the situation up to the point of war--for it was a dangerous business, with all Germany roaring for war--and then avert war when England and France were on the verge of it. But with his verbal message the Emperor shrewdly accomplished it. The results were before him. By creating the situation he knew that he had two powerful nations opposed to him. Good!

What he would do now would be to try to take one nation and secretly ally himself with it, leaving the other out in the cold. Then began the intrigues which planned the isolation of France, an amazing situation, a bombsh.e.l.l in present day international diplomacy, that I shall discuss fully in the next chapter.

Chapter VIII. The Isolation of France

After my experiences with the earlier stages of the French, English, and German situation, I was quite prepared for the most unexpected developments. What occurred in the middle of October, 1911, was, however, beyond what I had imagined. The Morocco incident had shown the German Emperor that the _entente cordiale_ was indeed solid.

England and France would stand shoulder to shoulder in war. Being used to the ways of German diplomacy, I knew that from the Wilhelmstra.s.se would come a quick countermove. I guessed, too, that when it came I would be employed. It stood to reason that, knowing so much of the trend and importance of the affair--I had seen the intrigue grow step by step--I was the logical choice.

Nor was my reasoning at fault. I soon received the expected summons, and it brought me into the most amazing of my diplomatic adventures-a mission which showed me the utter ruthlessness that characterizes foreign ministers, particularly when the vital interests of their countries are concerned.

Word to appear at the Wilhelmstra.s.se came when the autumn holidays were in full swing. The usual procedure of the Foreign Office having been observed, I found myself in Count von Wedel's private study.

After an invitation to be seated, the Count surprised me. He complimented me on my previous missions on the _entente cordiale_ situation, and handed me a pretty substantial check. It was actually 10,000 marks--$2,500--which the stubs of the royal check book will show.

As I took the money he remarked "Seine Majestat"--Foreign Office brevity for conveying that His Majesty was satisfied. Without more ado, von Wedel plunged into the subject. Leaning back and crossing his legs, he began to talk in his abrupt way.

"I want you to go with his Excellency, Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter, as his private attendant and secretary,'' began von Wedel. "I have selected you because of your knowledge of English and your insight into the whole matter in hand. There is to be a meeting of certain statesmen in a certain spot in the range of the Schwarzwald. You are to be the sole attendant of these gentlemen. You'll see to it that nothing of their ident.i.ty becomes known. You will look after them in every way. You will destroy all writing, such as paper and blotters.

You will burn any such things in the presence of Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter."

He paused impressively, and I found my mind in a whirl. What his words portended I could guess. This mission promised to be very interesting indeed.

"I want you to be at the place of meeting," von Wedel continued, "three days before the arrival of these gentlemen. You will have to make arrangements as regards catering and so forth. You'll be the only attendant. Means have been taken to a.s.sure strict privacy in the district. Understand that we want this to be thoroughly cloaked. I suggest to you the idea of a hunting party. The details I leave to you. The gentlemen in question may or may not be known to you. I shall write you their names."

His pen began scratching across a piece of paper, and I had a moment in which to realize the grave importance of this mission: the future of Germany menaced, complete isolation was in the making between England, France, and Russia; and the Kaiser was about to save Germany by a master stroke of diplomacy. Of what tremendous importance it was, however, I did not learn until I had gone down into the forest.

Looking up, von Wedel tossed a piece of paper across the desk to me (the identical paper which has been reproduced in connection with this article). It bore these names in his handwriting:

Viscount Haldane, Winston Spencer Churchill, Admiral von Tirpitz, General von Heeringen, General Moritz Ritter von Auffenberg, Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter.

I suppose, had it been my first Secret Service mission instead of the climax of eleven years in the service, I could not have controlled my surprise. These men, all meeting in a lonely spot in Taunus Hills region, foretold a grave situation. Especially was this true in view of the newspapers of Europe. Here was all the press having Germany and England ready to rush at each other's throats in war. It was the time of the German spy scare in England. And now here were the two powerful members of the English Cabinet meeting the Kaiser's Minister of War secretly.

I also knew of a secret visit Churchill and Haldane had made at the Foreign Office's invitation. Significantly these English diplomats had been shown certain of Germany's preparations for war, notably war in the sky.

But von Wedel was not yet through.

"These gentlemen," he said, "will meet at Schlangenbad about the middle of this month. You know the place, in the Taunus Hills--one of the Emperor's hunting lodges. I suggest that you get down there to-morrow and have everything ready. You thoroughly know what is required of you, Doctor?"

On my a.s.senting I was dismissed. I lost no time in getting home to my quarters and into comfortable togs. This mission needed some thinking out. And after I told my Basuto boy to pack my bag, I glanced again at the list von Wedel had given me.

Haldane, Lord Chancellor of England, persona grata with the Kaiser--in fact, a personal friend. Churchill, First Lord of the British Admiralty. Waechter, the German Minister of Foreign Affairs and, despite court opposition, the trusted man of the Kaiser. Tirpitz and von Heeringen, chiefs of the German navy and army staffs, the latter a second Moltke. When I came to von Auffenberg's name I whistled. Von Auffenberg was Minister of War and the right-hand man of the Chancellor of the Austrian Empire. Thus three great powers were represented. Six men of this eminence, the brains and force of three nations, to meet in secret in a little obscure hunting lodge in the forest! It portended darkly for France; but how darkly I could not then conjecture. It interested me tremendously, but I consoled myself that I would probably know all when the party gathered in that secluded hunting lodge.

According to instructions, I presented myself early next morning at the residence of Herr von Kinderlen-Waechter. It was in the Thiergartenstra.s.se. Without delay I was shown into his Excellency's room. He was seated at his desk, and while we exchanged a few perfunctory words I permitted myself a moment's brief conjecture.

Judging from appearances, you would never have taken this portly, rubicund, iron-gray, bushy-browed gentleman for a statesman. But a statesman he was for all that, and the Emperor and Germany miss him sorely. I would have taken him for a Boer Dopper or an English yeoman. This suggestion was supported by his atrocious taste in fancy waistcoats. The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a lurid peach-blossom creation, spotted with green. But once his steel-gray, deerhound eyes looked you up and down you forgot all about the fancy waistcoat and got right down to business. I told his Excellency I had come for his personal instructions.

Besides telling me to "halt my maul" (a German military expression literally meaning to keep your mouth shut, but implying the need for utmost secrecy) he gave me certain general instructions. But from them I could gain no idea of just what was going to happen. I could only guess. How big was the gathering storm he never even hinted.