21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series)

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  “I fear,” Maggie sighed, “that there will be difficulties in the way of my establishing confidential relations with Prince Shan.”

  “There will be difficulties,” Jesson assented, “but the thing is not so impossible as it would be in Paris. Prince Shan has a very fine house in Curzon Street, which is kept in continual readiness for him. He will probably entertain to some extent. You will without doubt have opportunities of meeting him socially.”

  Maggie glanced at herself in the glass.

  “A Chinaman!” she murmured.

  “I guess that doesn’t mean what it did,” Chalmers pointed out. “Prince Shan is an aristocrat and a born ruler. He has every scrap of culture that we know anything about and something from his thousand-year-old family that we don’t quite know how to put into words. Don’t you worry about Prince Shan, Lady Maggie. Ask Dorminster here what they called him at Oxford.”

  “The first gentleman of Asia,” Nigel replied. “I think he deserves the title.”

  CHAPTER XII

  Table of Contents

  On the morning following the conclave in Belgrave Square, the Right Honourable Mervin Brown received two extremely distinguished visitors in Downing Street. It was doubtful whether the Prime Minister was altogether at his best. There was a certain amount of irritability rankling beneath his customary air of bonhommie. He motioned his callers to take chairs, however, and listened attentively to the few words of introduction which his secretary thought necessary.

  “This is General Dumesnil, sir, of the French Staff, and Monsieur Pouilly of the French Cabinet. They have called according to appointment, on Government business.”

  “Very glad to see you, gentlemen,” was the Prime Minister’s brisk welcome. “Sorry I can’t talk French to you. Politics, these last ten years, haven’t left us much time for the outside graces.”

  Monsieur Pouilly at once took the floor. He was a thin, dark man with a beautifully trimmed black beard, flashing black eyes, and thoughtful, delicate features. He was attired in the frock coat and dark trousers of diplomatic usage, and he appeared to somewhat resent the brown tweed suit and soft collar of the man who was receiving him.

  “Mr. Mervin Brown,” he began, “you will kindly look upon our visit as official. We are envoys from Monsieur le Président and the French Government. General Dumesnil has accompanied me, in case our conversation should turn upon military matters here or at the War Office.”

  The General saluted. The Prime Minister bowed a little awkwardly.

  “So far as I am concerned,” the latter declared, “I will be perfectly frank with you from the start. I know nothing whatever about military affairs. My job is to govern this country, to make the most of its resources, and to bring prosperity to its citizens from the English Channel to the North Sea. We don’t need soldiers and never shall, that I can see. I am firmly convinced that the days of wars are over. The government of every country in the world is getting into the hands of the democracy, and the democracy don’t want war and never did. If any of the more quarrelsome folk on the continent get scrapping, well, my conception of my duty is to keep out of it.”

  Monsieur Pouilly restrained himself. To judge from his appearance, however, it was not altogether an easy matter.

  “You belong, sir,” he said, “to a type of statesman whose rise to power in this country some of us have watched with a certain amount of concern, for although it is not my mission here to-day to talk politics, I am yet bound to remind you that you do not stand alone. The very League of Nations upon which you rely imposes certain obligations upon you, some actual, some understood. It is to discuss the situation arising from your neglect to make the provisions called for in that agreement that I am here to-day.”

  Mr. Mervin Brown glanced at some figures which his secretary had laid before him.

  “You complain, I presume, of the reduction of our standing army?” he observed.

  “We complain of that,” Monsieur Pouilly replied, “and we complain also of the gradually decreasing interest shown by your Government in matters of æronautics, artillery, and naval construction. We learnt our lesson in 1914. If trouble should come again, our country would once more be the sufferer. You would no doubt do everything that was expected of you, in time. Before you were ready, however, France would be ruined. You entered into certain obligations under the League of Nations. My Government begs to call your attention to the fact that you are not fulfilling them.”

  “It is my intention within the course of the next few months,” Mervin Brown declared, “to lay before the League of Nations a scheme for total disarmament.”

  Monsieur Pouilly was staggered. A little exclamation escaped the General.

  “What about those nations,” the latter enquired, “who were left outside the League? What of Russia, for instance?”

  “Russia is a great and peaceful republic,” Mervin Brown replied. “All her efforts are devoted towards industrial development. No nation would have less to gain by a return to militarism.”

  “Pardon, monsieur, but how do you know anything about Russia?” Monsieur Pouilly asked. “You have not a single secret service agent there, and your ambassadors are ambassadors of commerce.”

  “I know what every one else knows,” Mervin Brown declared. “Our commercial travellers are our secret service agents. They travel where they please in Russia.”

  “And Germany?” the General queried.

  “I defy you to say that there is the slightest indication of any militarism in Germany,” the Prime Minister insisted. “I was there myself only a few months ago. The country is quiet and moving on now to a new prosperity. I am absolutely and entirely convinced that the world has nothing to fear from either Russia or Germany.”

  “Have you any theory, sir,” General Dumesnil enquired, “as to why Russia refused to join the League of Nations?”

  “None whatever,” was the genial acknowledgment. “Russia was left out at the start through jealous statesmanship, and afterwards she preferred her independence. I have every sympathy with her attitude.”

  “One more question,” the soldier begged. “Are you aware, sir, that since Japan left the League of Nations on the excuse of her isolation, she has been building æroplanes and battleships on a new theory, instigated, if you please, by China?”

  “And look at her last balance sheet as a result of it,” was the prompt retort. “If a nation chooses to make herself a bankrupt by building war toys, no one in the world can help her. Legislation of that sort is foolish and simply an incitement to revolution. Look at the difference in our country. Our income tax is practically abolished, our industrial troubles are over. Our credit never stood so high, the wealth of the country was never so great. We are satisfied. A peaceful nation makes for peace. The rattling of the sabre incites military disturbance. Do not ask us, gentlemen, to train armies or build ships.”

  “We ask you only to keep your covenant,” Monsieur Pouilly pronounced stiffly.

  “Who does keep it?” the Prime Minister demanded. “The world is governed now by common sense and humanity. I look upon a war of aggression on the part of any country as a sheer impossibility.”

  “What about a war of revenge?” the General enquired quietly.

  “You can search Germany from end to end,” Mervin Brown declared, “and find no trace of any spirit of the sort. I am sorry if I am a disappointment to you, gentlemen, but the present Government views your attitude without sympathy. General Richardson is expecting a visit from you this morning at the War Office, and he will give you any information you desire. An appointment has also been made for you this afternoon at the Admiralty. You are doing me the honour of dining with me here to-morrow night to meet certain members of my Cabinet, and we will, if you choose, discuss the matter further then. I have thought it best to place my views clearly before you, however, at the outset of your visit here.”

  The Frenchmen rose a few minutes later and took their leave, ceremoniously but with obvious disco
ntent. The Prime Minister leaned back in his chair and awaited his secretary’s return with a well-satisfied smile. In a few minutes the latter presented himself.

  “Well, Franklin,” the great man said, “I’ve let them hear the truth for once. Plain speaking, eh?”

  The young man bowed.

  “They certainly know your views, sir.”

  The Minister glanced at his subordinate sharply.

  “What’s the matter with you this morning, Franklin?” he demanded.

  “There is nothing the matter with me, thank you, sir,” was the quiet reply.

  “You’re not going to tell me that you disapprove of my attitude?”

  “By no means, sir,” the young man assured his Chief hastily,—“not altogether, that is to say. At the same time, one wonders how far those two men represent the feeling of France.”

  His Chief shrugged his shoulders.

  “The military spirit is hard to kill,” he said. “It is in the blood of most Frenchmen. They are not big enough to understand that the world is moving on to greater things. What did they say to you before they left?”

  “Nothing much, sir. The General just asked me whether I thought you would soon be content to leave London unpoliced.”

  “What rubbish! Any one else for me to see this morning?”

  “You promised to give Lord Dorminster ten minutes,” the young man reminded him. “He is in the anteroom now.”

  The Prime Minister frowned.

  “Dorminster,” he repeated. “He is a nephew of the man who was always worrying the Government to reëstablish the secret service. I remember he came to see me the other day, declared that his uncle had been murdered, and a secret dispatch from Germany stolen. I wonder he didn’t wind up with a report that the Chinese were on their way to seize Ireland!”

  “It is the same man, sir.”

  “Well, I suppose I’d better see him and get it over,” his Chief declared irritably. “If only one could make these people realize how far behind the times they are!”

  Nigel was shown in, a few minutes later. Mr. Mervin Brown was gracious but terse.

  “I haven’t had the opportunity of congratulating you upon becoming one of our hereditary legislators, Lord Dorminster, since you took your seat in the House of Lords,” he said. “Pray let me do so now. I hope that we may count upon your support.”

  “My support, sir,” Nigel replied, “will be given to any Party which will take the urgent necessary steps to protect this country against a great danger.”

  “God bless my soul!” the Prime Minister exclaimed. “Another of you!”

  “I can only guess who my predecessors were,” Nigel continued, smiling, “but I will frankly confess that the object of my visit is to beg you to reëstablish our secret service in Germany, Russia and China.”

  “Nothing,” the other declared, “would induce me to do anything of the sort.”

  “Are you aware,” Nigel enquired, “that there is a considerable foreign secret service at work in this country at the present moment?”

  “I am not aware of it, and I don’t believe it,” was the blunt retort.

  “I have absolute proof,” Nigel insisted. “Not only that, but two ex-secret service men whom my uncle sent out to Germany and Russia on his own account were murdered there as soon as they began to get on the track of certain things which had been kept secret. A report from one of these men got through and was stolen from my uncle’s library in Belgrave Square on the day he was murdered. You will remember that I placed all these facts before you on the occasion of a previous visit.”

  Mervin Brown nodded.

  “Anything else?” he asked patiently.

  “You know that a special envoy from China is on his way here at the present moment to meet Immelan?”

  “Oscar Immelan, the German Commissioner?”

  “The same,” Nigel assented.

  “A most delightful fellow,” the Prime Minister declared warmly, “and a great friend to this country.”

  “I must take the liberty of disagreeing with you,” Nigel rejoined, “because I know very well that he is our bitter enemy. Prince Shan, who is on his way from China to meet him, is the envoy of the one country outside Europe whom we might fear. We sit still and do nothing. We have no means of knowing what may be plotted against us here in London. At least a polite request might be sent to Prince Shan to ask him to pay you a visit and disclose the nature of his conference with Immelan.”

  “If he cares to come, we shall be glad to see him,” Mervin Brown replied, “but I for one shall not go out of my way to talk politics.”

  “Do you know what politics are, sir?” Nigel asked, in a sudden fury.

  The Prime Minister’s eyes flashed for a moment. He controlled himself, however, and rang the bell.

  “I have an idea that I do,” he answered. “A few millions of my fellow countrymen believe the same thing, or I should not be here. I think that you know what my principles are, Lord Dorminster. I am here to govern this country for the benefit of the people. We don’t want to govern any one else’s country, we don’t want to meddle in any one else’s affairs. Least of all do we want to revert to the times when your uncle was a young man, and every country in Europe was sitting with drawn sword, trusting nobody, fearing everybody, living in a state of nerves, with the roll of the drum always in their ears. The best preventative of war, in my opinion, is not to believe in it. Good morning, Lord Dorminster.”

  It was a dismissal against which there was no appeal. Nigel followed the secretary from the room.

  “You found the Chief a little bit ratty this morning, I expect, Lord Dorminster,” the latter remarked. “We’ve had the French Mission here.”

  “Mr. Mervin Brown has at least the virtue of knowing his own mind,” Nigel replied dryly.

  CHAPTER XIII

  Table of Contents

  The automobile turned in through the great entrance gates of the South London Aeronautic Terminus and commenced a slow ascent along the broad asphalted road to what, a few years ago, had been esteemed a new wonder of the world. Maggie rose to her feet with a little exclamation of wonder.

  “Do you know I have never been here at night before?” she exclaimed. “Isn’t it wonderful!”

  “Marvellous!” Nigel replied. “It’s the largest aeronautic station in the world—bigger, they say, than all our railway termini put together. Look at the flares, Maggie! No wonder the sky from the housetop at Belgrave Square seems always to be on fire at night!”

  They were approaching now the first of the huge sheds which were arranged in circular fashion around an immense stretch of perfectly level asphalted ground. Every shed was as big as an ordinary railway station, its arched opening framed with electric illuminations. Inside could be seen the crowds of people waiting on the platforms; in many of them, the engine of a great airship was already throbbing, waiting to start. In the background was a huge wireless installation, and around, at regular intervals, enormous pillars, on the top of which flares of different-coloured fire were burning. The automobile came to a standstill before a large electrically illuminated time chart. Nigel alighted for a moment and spoke to one of the inspectors.

  “Which station for the Black Dragon, private ship from China?” he enquired.

  The man glanced at the chart.

  “Number seven, on the other side,” he replied. “You can drive around.”

  “How is she for time?”

  “She crossed the North Sea punctually,” he replied. “We should see her violet lights in ten minutes. Mind the traffic as you pass number three. The North ship from Norway is just in.”

  Nigel addressed a word of caution to the chauffeur, and they drove on. From the first shed they passed a stream of vehicles was pouring out,—porters with luggage, jostling throngs of newly arrived passengers on their way to the Electric Underground. They drove into number seven shed, left the car, and walked to the end of the long platform. The great arc of glass-covered roof a
bove them was brilliantly illuminated, throwing a queer downward light upon the long line of waiting porters, the refreshment rooms, the kiosks and newspaper stalls. In the far end, a huge airship, bound for the East, was already filling up. Maggie and her companion stood for a few minutes gazing into the huge void of space.

  “Tell me about Naida,” the former begged, a little abruptly.

  “Naida is a wonderful woman,” Nigel declared enthusiastically. “We lunched at Ciro’s. She wore a black and white muslin gown which arrived this morning from Paris. Afterwards we went down to Ranelagh and sat under the trees.”

  “Throwing yourself thoroughly into your little job, aren’t you!” Maggie sniffed.

  “You’ll have a chance to catch me up before long,” he replied. “Naida has promised that she will arrange a meeting with the Prince.”

  “I wonder what Oscar Immelan will have to say about it,” Maggie reflected.

  “To tell you the truth,” Nigel said hopefully, “I believe that Immelan is losing ground. His whole scheme is too selfish. Of course, Naida won’t discuss these things with me in plain words, but she gives me a hint now and then. Amongst her gifts, she has a marvellous sense of justice and a hatred of any form of bribery. That is where I feel convinced that she and Immelan will never come together. Immelan could never see more than the selfish side, even of a world upheaval. Naida searches everywhere for motive. She has the altruistic instinct. I wonder no longer at Matinsky. She is a born ruler herself.”

  “I’m glad you are getting along with her,” Maggie remarked. “Look!” she broke off, catching at his arm. “The violet lights!”

  High up in the sky outside, two violet specks of light suddenly rose and fell like airballs. A crowd of mechanics appeared through subterranean doors and stood about in the vast arena. Very soon the airship came into sight, her cars brilliantly illuminated. She circled slowly round and came noiselessly to the ground, and with the mechanics running by her side, and her engines now scarcely audible, came slowly into the shed and to a standstill by the side of the platform. Maggie and her companion stood well in the background.