CHAPTER VIII
I HEAR OF CLUBFOOT AND MEET HIS EMPLOYER
As we went down the staircase, the Major whispered to me:
"I don't think your man wished me to know his name, for he did notintroduce himself when he arrived and he does not come to our Casino.But I know him for all that: it is the young Count von Boden, of theUhlans of the Guard: his father, the General, is one of the Emperor'saides-de-camp: he was, for a time, tutor to the Crown Prince."
A motor-car stood at the door, in it a young man in a grey-blue militarygreat-coat and a flat cap with a pink band round it. He sprang out as weappeared. His manner was most _empresse_. He completely ignored mycompanion.
"I am extremely glad to see you, Herr Doktor," he said. "You aremost anxiously expected. I must present my apologies for not beingat the station to welcome you, but, apparently, there was somemisunderstanding. The arrangements at the station for your receptionseem to have broken down completely ..." and he stared through hismonocle at the old Major, who flushed with vexation.
"If you will step into my car," the young man added, "I will drive youto the station. We need not detain this gentleman any longer."
I felt sorry for the old Major, who had remained silent under thewithering insolence of this young lieutenant, so I shook hands with himcordially and thanked him for his hospitality. He was a jovial oldfellow after all.
The young Count drove himself and chatted amiably as we whirled throughthe streets. "I must introduce myself," he said: "Lieutenant Count vonBoden of the 2nd Uhlans of the Guard. I did not wish to say anythingbefore that old chatterbox. I trust you have had a pleasant journey. VonSteinhardt, of our Legation at the Hague, was instructed to make allarrangements for your comfort on this side. But I was forgetting, youand he must be old acquaintances, Herr Doktor!"
I said something appropriate about von Steinhardt's invariable kindness.Inwardly, I noted the explanation of the visiting card in the portfolioin my pocket.
At the station we found two orderlies, one with my things, the otherwith von Boden's luggage and fur _pelisse_. The platforms were nowdeserted save for sentries: all life at this dreary frontier stationseemed to die with the passing of the mail train.
I could not help noticing, after we had left the car and were strollingup and down the platform waiting for the special, that my companion keptcasting furtive glances at my feet. I looked down at my boots: theywanted brushing, certainly, but otherwise I could see nothing wrong withthem. They were brown, it is true, and I reflected that the German manabout town has a way of regulating his tastes in footgear by thecalendar, and that brown boots are seldom worn in Germany afterSeptember 1st.
Our special came in, an engine and tender, a brakesman's van, a singlecarriage and a guard's van. The stationmaster bid us a most ceremoniousadieu, and the guard, cap in hand, helped me into the train.
It was a Pullman car in which I found myself, with comfortablearm-chairs and small tables. One of the orderlies was laying the tablefor luncheon, and here, presently, the young Count and I ate a meal,which, save for the inevitable "_Kriegsbrod_," showed few signs of thestringency of the British blockade. But by this time I had fullyrealized that, for some unknown reason, no pains were spared to do mehonour, so probably the fare was something out of the common.
My companion was a bright, amusing fellow and delightfully typical ofhis class. He had seen a year's service with the cavalry on the Easternfront, had been seriously wounded and was now attached to the GeneralStaff in Berlin in what I judged to be a decorative rather than a usefulcapacity, for, apart from what he had learnt in his own campaigning heseemed singularly ignorant of the development of the military situation.Particularly, his ignorance of conditions on the Western front wassupreme. He was full to the brim with the most extraordinary fablesabout the British. He solemnly assured me, for example--on the faith ofa friend of his who had seen them--that Japanese were fighting with theEnglish in France, dressed as Highlanders--his friend had heard theseAsiatic Scotsmen talking Japanese, he declared. I thought of theGaelic-speaking battalions of the Camerons and could hardly suppress asmile.
Young von Boden was superbly contemptuous of the officers of the obscureand much reduced infantry battalion doing garrison duty at Goch, thefrontier station we had just left, where--as he was careful to explainto me--he had spent four days of unrelieved boredom, waiting for me.
"Of course, in war time we are a united army and all that," he observedunsophistically, "but none of these fellows at Goch was a fit companionfor a dashing cavalry officer. They were a dull lot. I wouldn't go nearthe Casino. I met some of them at the hotel one evening. That wasenough for me. Why, only one of them knew anything at all about Berlin,and that was the lame fellow. Now, there is one thing we learn in thecavalry...."
But I had ceased to listen. In his irresponsible chatter the boy used aword that struck a harsh note which went jarring through my brain. Hehad mentioned "the lame fellow," using a German word "der Stelze." In aflash I saw before me again that scene in the squalid bedroom in the Vosin't Tuintje--the candle guttering in the draught, the livid corpse onthe floor and that sinister woman crying out: "Der Stelze has power, hehas authority, he can make and unmake men!"
The mind has unaccountable lapses. The phrase had slipped out of myGerman vocabulary. I had not even recognized it until the boy had rappedit out in a context with which I was familiar and then it had come back.With it, it brought that tableau in the dimly lit room, but alsoanother--a picture of a vast and massive man, swarthy and sinister, witha clubfoot, limping heavily after Karl, the waiter, on the platform atRotterdam.
That, then, was why the young lieutenant had glanced down at my feet atthe station at Goch, The messenger he had come to meet, the bearer ofthe document, the man of power and authority, was clubfooted, and I washe!
But seeing I was free of any physical deformity, to say nothing of thefact that I in no way resembled the clubfooted man I had seen on theplatform at Rotterdam, why had the young lieutenant accepted me soreadily? I hazarded the reason to be that he had orders to meet a personwho had not been further designated to him except that he would arriveby a certain train. The Major at the station would be responsible forestablishing my _bona fides_. Once that officer had turned me over tothe emissary, the latter's sole responsibility consisted in conductingme to the unknown goal to which the special train was rapidly bearingus. Such are the marvels of discipline!
My companion was, indeed, the model of discretion in everything touchingmyself and my business. Curiosity about your neighhour's affairs is acardinal German failing, yet the Count manifested not the slightestdesire to learn anything about me or my mission to Berlin. You may besure that I, for my part, did nothing to enlighten him. It was not,indeed, in my power to do so. Yet the young man's reserve was so markedthat I was convinced he had his orders to avoid the topic.
As the train rushed through Westphalia, through busy stations withglimpses of sidings full of trucks loaded to the brim, past towns whosevery outlines were blurred by the mirk of smoke from a hundred factorychimneys, my thoughts were busy with that swarthy cripple. I had brokenaway from him with one portion of a highly prized document, yet he hadmade no attempt to have me arrested at the frontier. Clearly, then, hemust still look upon me as an ally and must therefore be yet inignorance of the identity of the dead man lying in my chamber at theHotel Sixt. The friendly guide had told me that the party "combing out"the station at Rotterdam for me did not appear to know what I lookedlike.
_Was it possible, then, that Clubfoot did not know Semlin by sight?_
The fact that Semlin had only recently crossed the Atlantic seemed toconfirm this supposition.
Then the document. Semlin had half. Who had the other half? SurelyClubfoot.... Clubfoot who was to have called at the hotel that morningto receive what I had brought from England. Perhaps, after all, myrandom declaration to the hotel-keeper had not been so far wrong;Clubfoot wanted to take the whole document to Berlin and reap all thelaurels a
t the cost of half the danger and labour. That would explainhis present silence. He suspected Semlin of treachery, not to the commoncause, but to him!
It looked as if I might have a free run until Clubfoot could reachBerlin. That, unless he also took a special, could not be until thenext evening at earliest. But, more redoubtable than a meeting withthe man of power and authority, hung over me, an ever-present nightmare,the interview which I felt awaited me at the end of my presentjourney ... the interview at which I must render an account of mymission.
Evening was falling as we ran through the inhospitable region of sandand water and pine that engirdles Berlin. We glided at diminished speedthrough the trim suburbs, skirted the city, on whose tall buildings theelectric sky-signs were already beginning to twinkle, crashed heavilyover a vast network of metals at some great terminus, then tore offagain into the gathering darkness. In a little, we slowed down again. Wewere running through wooded country. From the darkness ahead a lanternwaved at us and the train stopped with a jerk at a little waysidestation, a tiny box of an affair. A tall, solid figure, wearing a spikedhelmet and grey military great-coat, stood in solitary grandeur in thecentre of the little platform, the wavering rays of a flickering gaslamp reflected in his brilliantly polished top-boots.
"Here we are at last!" said my companion.
I stepped out to meet my fate.
* * * * *
The young lieutenant was rigid at the salute before the figure on theplatform.
I heard the end of a sentence as I alighted "... the gentleman I was tomeet, Excellency!"
The other looked at me. He was a big man with a crimson face. He made noattempt at greeting, but said in a hoarse voice: "Have the goodness tocome with me. The orderlies will attend to your things." And, withclinking spurs, he strode out through some big kind of anteroom, swathedin wrappings, into a yard beyond, where a big limousine was throbbinggently.
He stood aside to let me get in, then mounted himself, followed, ratherto my surprise, by the young Count, whose responsibility for myself hadended, I imagined, on "delivering the goods." My surprise was of shortduration, for once in the car the young Uhlan dropped all the formalityhe had displayed on the platform and addressed the elder officer as"papa." This, then, was old General von Boden, of whom the Major hadspoken, Aide-de-Camp to the Kaiser and formerly tutor to the CrownPrince.
Father and son chatted in a desultory fashion across the car, and I tookthe opportunity of studying the old gentleman. His face was of the mostprodigious purple hue, and so highly polished that it continually caughtthe reflection of the small electric lamp in the roof. Huge goldspectacles with glasses so thick that they distorted his eyes,straddled a great beak-like nose. He had doffed his helmet and wasmopping his brow, and I saw a high perfectly bald dome-like head,brilliantly polished and almost as red as his face. He was clean shavenand by no means young, for the flesh hung in bags about his face. Longyears of the habit of command had left their mark in an imperiousness ofmanner which might easily yield to ruthlessness I judged.
"I thought I should have had orders before I left the Villa," theGeneral said to his son, "then you could have gone straight there. Isuppose he means to see him here: that is why he wanted him brought tothe Villa. But he's always the same: he never can make up his mind." Andhe grunted.
"Perhaps there will be something waiting at home," he added in hishoarse barrack-yard voice.
We drove through a white gate into a little drive which brought us up infront of a long, low villa. Neither father nor son had opened their lipsto me during the drive from the station and I had not ventured to put aquestion to either of them, but I knew we were in Potsdam. The littlestation in the woods was Wild-Park, I suspected, the private stationused by the Emperor on his frequent journeys and situated in the groundsof the New Palace. All the officials of the Prussian Court have villasat Potsdam, though why I had been brought there in connection with anaffair that must surely rather interest the Wilhelm-Strasse or thePolice Presidency was more than I could fathom.
There was a frightful scene in the hall. Without any warning the Generalturned on the orderly who had opened the door and screamed abuse at him."Camel! Ox! Sheep's-head!" he roared, his face and shining patedeepening their vermilion hue. "Do I give orders that they shall beforgotten? What do you mean? You ass...." He put his white-gloved handson the man's shoulders and shook him until the fellow's teeth must haverattled in his head. The orderly, white to the lips, hung limp in theold man's grasp, muttering apologies: "Ach! Exzellenz! Exzellenz willexcuse me...."
It was a revolting spectacle, but it did not make the least impressionon the son, who, putting down his cap and great-coat and unhooking hissword, led me into a kind of study. "These orderlies are suchthickheads!" he said.
"Rudi! Rudi!" a hoarse, strident voice screamed from the hall. Thelieutenant ran out.
"You've got to take the fellow to Berlin to-night. The message was hereall the time--that numskull Heinrich forgot it. And we've got to keepthe fellow here till then! An outrage, having the house used as abarrack for a rascally detective!" Thus much I heard, as the door hadbeen left open. Then it closed and I heard no more.
As I had heard this much, there was a certain irony in the invitation todinner subsequently conveyed to me by the young Uhlan. There was nothingfor it but to accept. I knew I was caught deep in the meshes of Prussiandiscipline, every one had his orders and blindly carried them out, fromthe garrulous Major on the frontier to this preposterous _Exzellenz_,this Imperial aide-de-camp of Potsdam. I was already a tiny cog in agreat machine. I should have to revolve or be crushed.
His Excellency left me in no doubt on this point. When I was usheredinto his study, after a much-needed wash and a shave, he received mestanding and said point-blank: "Your orders are to stay here until teno'clock to-night, when you will be taken to Berlin by Lieutenant Countvon Boden. I don't know you, I don't know your business, but I havereceived certain orders concerning you which I intend to carry out. Forthat reason you will dine with us here. After you have seen the personto whom you are to be taken to-night, Lieutenant Count von Boden willaccompany you to the railway station at Spandau, where a special trainwill be in readiness in which he will conduct you back to the frontier.I wish you clearly to understand that the Lieutenant is responsible forseeing these orders carried out and will use all means to that end. HaveI made myself clear?"
The old man's manner was indescribably threatening. "This is the machinewe are out to smash," I had said to myself when I saw him savaging hisservant in the hall and I repeated the phrase to myself now. But to theGeneral I said: "Perfectly, Your Excellency!"
"Then let us go to dinner," said the General.
It was a nightmare meal. A faded and shrunken female, to whom I was notintroduced--some kind of relative who kept house for the General, Isupposed--was the only other person present. She never opened her lipssave, with eyes glazed with terror, to give some whispered instructionto the orderly anent the General's food or wine. We dined in adepressing room with dark brown wallpaper decorated with dusty stags'antlers, an enormous green-tiled stove dominating everything. TheGeneral and his son ate solidly through the courses while the ladypecked furtively at her plate. As for myself I could not eat for sheerfright. Every nerve in my body was vibrating at the thought of theevening before me. If I could not avoid the interview, I was resolutelydetermined to give Master von Boden the slip rather than return to thefrontier empty-handed. I had not braved all these perils to be packedoff home without, at least, making an attempt to find Francis. Besides,I meant if I could to get the other half of that document.
There was some quite excellent Rhine wine, and I drank plenty of it. Sodid the General, with the result that, when the veins starting purplefrom his temples proclaimed that he had eaten to repletion, his temperseemed to have improved. He unbent sufficiently to present me with quitethe worst cigar I have ever smoked.
I smoked it in silence whilst father and son talked sh
op. The female hadfaded away. Both men, I found to my surprise, were furious and bitteropponents of Hindenburg, as I have since learnt most of the old schoolof the Prussian Army are. They spoke little of England: their thoughtsseemed to be centred on Russia as the arch-enemy. They pinned theirfaith on Falkenhayn and Mackensen. They had no words strong enough intheir denunciation of Hindenburg, whom they always referred to as "theDrunkard" ... "der Saeufer." Nor were they sparing of criticism of whatthey called the Kaiser's "weakness" in letting him rise to power.
The humming of a car outside broke up our gathering. Remembering that Iwas but a humble servant before this great military luminary, I thankedthe General with due servility for his hospitality. Then the Count and Iwent out to the car and presently drove forth into the night.
We entered Berlin from the west, as it seemed to me, but then struck offin a southerly direction and were soon in the commercial quarter of thecity, all but deserted at that hour, save for the trams. Then I caught aglimpse of lamps reflected in water, and the next moment the car hadstopped on a bridge over a canal or river. My companion sprang out andhurried me to a small gate in an iron railing enclosing a vast edificelooming black in the night, while the car moved off into the darkness.
The gate was open. Half a dozen yards from it was a small, slender towerwith a pointed roof jutting out from the corner of the building. In thetower was a door which yielded easily to my companion's vigorous push asa clock somewhere within the building beat a double stroke--half-pastten.
The door led into a little vestibule brilliantly lit with electriclight. There a man was waiting, a fine, upstanding bearded fellow in akind of green hunting costume.
"So, Payer!" said the young Uhlan. "Here is the gentleman. I shall be atthe west entrance afterwards. You will bring him down yourself to thecar."
"Jawohl, Herr Graf!" answered the man in green, and the lieutenantvanished through the door into the night.
A terrifying, an incredible suspicion that had overwhelmed me directly Istepped out of the car now came surging through my brain. That vast,black edifice, that slender tower at the corner--did I not know them?
Mechanically, I followed the man in green. My suspicions deepenedwith every step. In a little, they became certainty. Up a shallow andwinding stair, along a long and broad corridor, hung with richtapestries, the polished parquet glistening faintly in the dim light,through splendid suites of gilded apartments with old pictures andsplendid furniture... here a lackey with powdered hair yawning on alanding, there a sentry in field-grey immobile before a door...I was inthe Berlin Schloss.
The Castle seemed to sleep. A hushed silence lay over all. Everywherelights were dim, staircases wound down into emptiness, corridorsstretched away into dusky solitude. Now and then an attendant in eveningdress tiptoed past us or an officer vanished round a corner, noiselesslysave for a faint clink of spurs.
Thus we traversed, as it seemed to me, miles of silence and of twilight,and all the time my blood hammered at my temples and my throat grew dryas I thought of the ordeal that stood before me. To whom was I thusbidden, secretly, in the night?
We were in a broad and pleasant passage now, panelled in cheerful lightbrown oak with red hangings. After the desolation of the Stateapartments, this comfortable corridor had at least the appearance ofleading to the habitation of man. A giant trooper in field-grey with acurious silver gorget suspended round his neck by a chain paced up anddown the passage, his jackboots making no sound upon the soft, thickcarpet with which the floor was covered.
The man in green stopped at the door. Holding up a warning hand to me,he bent his head and listened. There was a moment of absolute silence.Not a sound was to be heard throughout the whole Castle. Then the man ingreen knocked softly and was admitted, leaving me outside.
A moment later, the door swung open again. A tall, elegant man with greyhair and that indefinite air of good breeding that you find in every manwho has spent a life at court, came out hurriedly. He looked pale andharassed.
On seeing me, he stopped short.
"Dr. Grundt? Where is Dr. Grundt?" he asked and his eyes dropped to myfeet. He started and raised them to my face.
The trooper had drifted out of earshot. I could see him, immobile as astatue, standing at the end of the corridor. Except for him and us, thepassage was deserted.
Again the elderly man spoke and his voice betrayed his anxiety.
"Who are you?" he asked almost in a whisper. "What have you done withGrundt? Why has he not come?"
Boldly I took the plunge.
"I am Semlin," I said.
"Semlin," echoed the other, "--ah yes! the Embassy in Washington wroteabout you--but Grundt was to have come...."
"Listen," I said, "Grundt could not come. We had to separate and he sentme on ahead...."
"But ... but ..."--the man was stammering now in his anxiety--"... yousucceeded?"
I nodded.
He heaved a sigh of relief.
"It will be awkward, very awkward, this change in the arrangements," hesaid. "You will have to explain everything to him, everything. Waitthere an instant."
He darted back into the room.
Once more I stood and waited in that silent place, so restful and sostill that one felt oneself in a world far removed from the angry strifeof nations. And I wondered if my interview--the meeting I had so muchdreaded--was at an end.
"Pst, Pst!" The elderly man stood at the open door.
He led me through a room, a cosy place, smelling pleasantly of leatherfurniture, to a door. He opened it, revealing across a narrow thresholdanother door. On this he knocked.
"Herein!" cried a voice--a harsh, metallic voice.
My companion turned the handle and, opening the door, thrust me into theroom. The door closed behind me.
I found myself facing the Emperor.
The Man with the Clubfoot Page 8
