What will become of France? Reconstruction, part.i.tioning, possibly a little kingdom, probably under the Orleans regime. France is in the lap of the G.o.ds. I know these things, for I possess them in black and white.

Chapter IX. In the Balkan Country

After my mission in the Black Forest, I went to Albeck, a well-known seaside resort on the Baltic. For more than a year the gentlemen at the Wilhelmstra.s.se had kept me on the run, and a vacation at Albeck--much like your Atlantic City only smaller--was not only welcomed but needed. I was just settling down to a period of quiet in and around the Kurhaus when there came a wire for my attendance at the Wilhelmstra.s.se. "At your earliest convenience" was the phrase which, of course, meant at once. Germany's language to her Secret Agents is always polite.

I am very frank to confess that the message put me a little out of sorts. All my plans for resting at Albeck went to smash. I knew that something big must be in the air else I would never have been recalled from a vacation that was only beginning. Wiring a reply I stated that I would arrive in Berlin on the 7.30 train and that any further commands would receive attention at my standing quarters in the Mittelstra.s.se. In a few hours I had caught a train and was being whirled south.

During the three-hour run I speculated on what was likely to be required from me. An inside rumor then current among us Secret Service men gave me the clew. I marshaled past events and ran them over in my mind. I knew that the Kaiser's diplomatic master stroke undermining the _entente cordiale_ and tentatively holding off Great Britain, left the way clear for the execution of Austro-German policies in the Balkans.

As the express hurried me toward Berlin, I reflected that since the Russian-j.a.panese War, Russia, weakened as she was, felt her influence in European affairs waning. I knew it was about time for her to make a desperate effort to regain European prestige. I recalled that upon Russia's plight after the j.a.panese war, Austria immediately annexed Herzegovina and Bosnia. She did this with the tacit understanding and backing up of Germany. I knew that as a result of this, Russia was again at work in the Balkans. Greeks, Servians, Bulgarians, and Montenegrins, up till now suicidal enemies, were arriving at an understanding. There are as many differences of nationalities, castes and opinions in the Balkans as there are in India and it took clever manipulation, much money, and strenuous efforts on the part of Russia to unite these countries under Russian influence. The visit of the Crown Prince of Servia to Sofia, the Bulgarian capital, was engineered by Russia, and was a triumphant success in bringing about an understanding between Bulgaria and Servia. It absolutely unified Servia and Bulgaria. Why then the completely changed att.i.tude of Servia and Bulgaria after their mutual successes against the Turk?

Presently I shall show you the vast undercurrent forces forever moving beneath the Balkan situation.

I recalled having heard high Servian officials speculate as to their chances of reviving the ancient empire, so with the Bulgarians. After the reunion of Wallachia and Moldadia, I heard Roumanian officials express the wish to gain Dacia through the addition of Transylvania, Bukovina and the Banate of Ternesvar. This longing can easily be understood when one remembers that each of these States maintains royal court legations and an army the quality of which in the case of the Allies has just been tested and shown in their splendid fighting and sacrifices, but which is all out of proportion to their individual sizes and resources.

I knew there were armies mobilizing in the Balkans at a high mark of efficiency. They were equipped in a way totally beyond the means of such little countries. Who was supplying this driving force, the money, officers? They were but p.a.w.ns, the Balkan States on an international chessboard.

Now before I relate my mission, consider these test points: The alliance of States usually hereditary enemies; the downfall of an empire, a background of the world's powers pulling the strings; the success of the Balkan Allies. Then the most amazing part of it all.

Turkey, well thrashed, lost little save a few islands in the ?gean Sea, some of which it has already regained. The Allies gained nothing but debts--debts and empty honor which leaves them so exhausted that they can be no real factor in the world's politics for decades to come--and there lies the key.

Arriving in Berlin I made my way to my quarters in the Mittelstra.s.se.

It was about eight o'clock when I put my key in the door. I found Kim very much awake and somewhat excited. At this unseemly hour there was a visitor! This was all the more unusual for I was not in the habit of receiving my most intimate friends or acquaintances at my private quarters.

"_Koom_, ma.s.sa!" (Salute, master!) "Gentleman him here to see you.

Kim him don't know if he do right, maybe wrong; but gentleman said it all right that him come in."

All apologies, Kim was fretting himself almost into a nervous collapse over the visitor. Rather curious, I walked into the sitting-room and found a man I had seen pretty often at the Wilhelmstra.s.se. I knew him to be Herr von Stammer, the right hand man of von Wedel. Although we were well known to each other by sight, we hardly conversed ten words outside of official business. At the time I thought it a little odd that the usual procedure was not observed, that someone came to my room instead of my going to the Wilhelmstra.s.se, seemed a bit unusual.

As things developed, however, I saw a possible reason why.

"Your quarters are pretty well guarded here, Doctor," said Herr von Stammer. "Your Cerberus didn't want to let me in."

I half smiled. I could imagine what a battle a stranger must have to get by Kim.

"We received your wire from Albeck and as the Count is inaccessible, your orders will come through me this time."

There was an interruption, for Kim had appeared with cigarettes.

"The Count," continued von Stammer, driving direct to the point, "wishes you to go to Belgrade and get in close touch with existing conditions there. We wish you to ascertain the undercurrent situation. The official status is, of course, well known to us. But we want definitely to find out just how far Russian influences are at work in Bucharest and Sofia, just how far they have progressed and how far they are prepared to go in this Balkan affair. If you cannot get in Belgrade the wanted information--and absolute accuracy is imperative--go to the Bulgarian capital. But--and this is important--no time must be lost. A definite insight into the inner workings of the situation must be in my hands at the earliest possible moment."

Here indeed was a task.

"Understand," continued von Stammer, "you will have the a.s.sistance in this case of Austrian Secret employees. But, as I need not point out to you, it is inadvisable to take any of them with you, as all the Austrian agents are known to the Russian agents down in the Balkans.

I suggest that you stop at Budapest and get all connecting links of possible help to you. You will obtain these from Kasimir Kowalsky, an Austrian agent whom you will find at Donaustra.s.se 24. By the way, do you know him?"

I said no.

"In this case," went on von Stammer, "I shall give instructions to facilitate matters. It is necessary for you to have pa.s.sports. Have you any reason to fear your previous mission to the Balkans?"

He referred to that incident in 1903, current with the a.s.sa.s.sination of King Alexander and Queen Draga of Servia--an incident I don't like to think of, for it landed me on a blank wall looking into twelve ugly Mauser tubes, as you will recall from a previous chapter.

I considered that there were only two men in the Balkans who could have placed me from the 1903 incident. One Colonel Niglitch was dead, slain at the time of the Alexander a.s.sa.s.sination; the other was Stamboul and he was no doubt moving in the circles where my mission would take me. Were I to meet him it would mean recognition, a possible knife in the back. No, I was in no way keen to undertake this mission. My previous experience in the Balkans and all that ilk had given me a thorough distaste of the people there. There is no mixture of races so dangerous. Nearly every man is for a small sum a traitor and potential a.s.sa.s.sin. I had had a taste of their methods and I didn't want another. Von Stammer must have noticed my hesitation, for he grinned and said:

"Nervous about it?"

I frankly was. I told him so.

"Yes, I understand your att.i.tude." [I had been on the go for over five months solid and I wanted a rest.] "I beg of you to consider though that you are the only man we have at our disposal who can see this thing through."

He then began to hint in such a way that it became obvious to me that refusal on my part would not be at all to the liking of the Wilhelmstra.s.se. Refusal would mean loss of favor and with it the choice jobs. As an added inducement, von Stammer promised double the usual remuneration. Frankly this was a point. I considered that the mission would not take me over three or four weeks and he had agreed to pay me $2,500, aside from the bonus always attached to successful and quick work. Still, I wasn't sure that I wanted to go. I knew there was the danger of recognition, and I knew the kind of irresponsible, hotheaded, temperamental people I was going among. It was far more difficult, far more hazardous, than any mission I had ever undertaken, in England or France; even the tremendous responsibilities of the affair in the Black Forest carried with them none of the personal dangers that this did. When he pressed me for a decision I requested some little time to think things over. Asking me to telephone his home before midnight and let him know what I was going to do, he departed.

I hope I am still a Christian, but contact and intercourse with the mysticism of Africa and India has made me superst.i.tious. I have a curious habit at momentous times of indecision of taking two full packages of cards and playing Napoleon's solitaire. If I get it out once in three times, I generally go into the matter in hand without question. It never has failed me. Twice in my life I went against it; twice I had bitter cause of regret.

Well, I didn't give von Stammer his decision on the moment because I wanted to try the old test. Kim produced the cards and I began to play. I got it out the second time. Going to the 'phone I called von Stammer and told him I would undertake the mission. He asked me to come at once to his house, and there I received final instructions and pa.s.sports, the latter essential south of the Austrian frontier.

At three o'clock in the morning I boarded the Orient Express via Vienna and made a stop over of a day at Budapest. I went immediately to Donaustra.s.se 24 and saw the Austrian agent Kowalsky. From him I gained points that were invaluable to me. For instance, he gave me the names of men who frequented certain places in Belgrade, men w ho would be of use to me. He also warned me of certain persons, especially women whom he knew to be in Russian employ. That night I caught a train for Belgrade, well satisfied with the results of my visit to Kowalsky.

Before dinner time the next day, I was installed at the Hotel de Paris in Belgrade. My rooms had been engaged for me beforehand and they were the most expensive in the hotel--for a reason. I found myself in an elaborate suite on the first door, known as the suite Des Princes.

This was a necessary move of the parvenu as money is the first and last word in the Balkans. Belgrade and everybody in it pride themselves on their up-to-date Parisian style. Everybody lives in the Parisian way. Army officers, whose pay is infinitesimal, all live like Russian Grand Dukes. How they are able to manage this on the official Servian army salaries of 65 cents a day would naturally puzzle an outsider. The answer is, Russian gold. It buys anything and everything south of Budapest. It cannot buy in Montenegro where patriotism is supreme, nor can it buy what it wants among the Osmans.

To be sure it can buy the Turk; but there is a vast difference between an Osmanly and a Turk.

Through my lavish expenditure of money, I soon was a marked person and courted by all the gay officers of the capital. One of their number was a Major Schuvealoff. A _bon vivant_ and gambler, was Major Schuvealoff, with the tastes of a Grand Duke. On a mission of this kind a secret agent always likes to find a man who is "fast." I knew the Major to be in the Russian pay. Kowalsky tipped me off to that.

I knew that it was from him I could get everything I wanted, even though he was taking the Czar's gold.

Into the gay life of Belgrade I plunged a-hunting, the Major the quarry. I gave a series of dinners at the Hotel de Paris. After the dinners there was gambling. I always lost to the Major. He lost to others but I was careful never to win from him. He fell into the way of dropping around at my quarters. Like most of his set, the Major was a heavy drinker. When his face would become very hushed and his tongue very glib, I would try to draw things out of him, but I never could get anything worth while. The slightest suspicious question made him close up as tight as an oyster.

I had seen him often in the company of a French lady, a Mlle. Rene Valon. It was obvious that she and the Major were on pretty good terms. Little incidents, things that happened in a room full of people, led me to guess that she was extremely fond of him. I made it my business to cultivate her acquaintance, for experience had often shown me that where gold and myself failed, a pair of flashing eyes and other felicities will often succeed. Like all the other women of that set in Belgrade, Mlle. Valon was woefully extravagant. She gambled heavily and one night I a.s.sisted her with a loan of 500 francs. I came to know her fairly well.

I had no previous indication of her being in any way connected with any foreign service. Indeed everything pointed to the contrary. But when on these missions, one is always on the _qui vive_. Mlle.

Valon's French was perfect. She looked French, her mannerisms were French. Still I wasn't satisfied. In a case like this, it is wise to be suspicious of every one. I began to make the most delicate inquiries. In conversation I tried to draw out little things. I felt she was playing a role. I used outside sources, but everything bore out the French origin. Still I wasn't satisfied. Subsequently my _quasi_ suspicions proved to be correct.

One night Mlle. Valon gave a supper party in her apartments in the Hotel de Paris. After the supper there was gambling among the guests.

Here in the privacy of her rooms was an opportunity to discover some little thing that would either confirm her French claims or confirm my suspicions. I kept my eyes open, but they could find nothing that would show any connection with Russia. That is, they found nothing until Mlle. Valon got up from the table, went to her boudoir and returned nibbling on a piece of candy. It was the candy that gave her away.

I saw at once it was a particular brand of Russian candy quite distinct from similar confections in France and Turkey. In reality they are natural flowers such as roses and violets with their fragrance and natural taste in a champagne-colored, crystal substance, the nature of which is a secret. Made solely by Demitrof and Sons of Moscow, they are usually appreciated only by a born Moscovite. The taste for them must be acquired. Only a Russian or one who had for years lived in Russia would have it.

Although Mlle. Valon was personally unknown to me, five out of every ten of these women were invariably known to the Secret Service branch of the Continental police. My suspicions as to her confirmed, it was an even chance that I might be able to place her. I procured two snapshots of her and a specimen of her handwriting. These I forwarded to the chief of the sections in Vienna and Berlin, with a request to wire any possible information about her. Within forty-eight hours I had a reply. Mlle. Valon was well known to the Austrian police as a one-time keeper of a fashionable gambling resort in Galicia. She had left the country hurriedly after a stabbing affray. She was known in Crakau as Paula, and she was wanted by the police.

I engineered my next meeting with Mlle. Valon to be alone. After presenting her with a box of perfumes, I said abruptly:

"This is a change from Crakau, Paula."

It is always wise to smash right out, and not to put the other on guard through leading questions, and the trick had the desired effect.

She recoiled. To your high American standards of chivalry, it may seem brutal to take advantage of a woman in this way, but it had to be done. Moreover, these women are absolutely conscienceless themselves.

"Grand Dieu! Who are you?"

"That does not concern you ma fille, I know that and a good deal more.

Austria would be very glad to know where you are. Shall I tell them?"