The International Spy Part 42

"It is packed."

"And what time does the next train leave?"

"In two hours from now."

"Good. And now, my children, we will have supper."

CHAPTER XXVIII

ON THE TRACK

As the really exciting moment of the protracted struggle drew near, I summoned all my energies to meet it.

I alighted in Berlin armed only with two weapons, the pa.s.sport made out in the name of Petrovitch, and a fairly accurate knowledge of the schemes, or at all events the hopes, of the German Government.

From the first beginning of my long investigation, all the clues I had picked up had led steadily in one direction.

The great disorganized Empire of the Czar's, with its feeble-willed autocrat, its insubordinate grand dukes, its rival ministers pulling different ways, and its greedy officials whose country was their pocket, had been silently and steadily enfolded in the invisible web of German statecraft.

The brilliant personality of Wilhelm II had magnetized the vacillating, timorous Nicholas. Count Bulow had courted the Russian Foreign Office with the a.s.siduous arts of a lover, and his wooing had been crowned by complete success. Through Petrovitch the grand dukes had been indirectly bribed, and the smaller fry like M. Auguste had been bought outright. Even the Army and Navy had been cajoled, or bought, or terrorized by pretended revelations of j.a.panese designs.

Russia had become a supple implement in the hands of the German Kaiser, the sovereign who for nearly twenty years had been striving toward one goal by a hundred different crooked paths.

It was evident that the unexplained disappearance of Petrovitch must have struck consternation into his employers. I suspected that the Princess Y---- had been summoned to Berlin to throw light on the event, and possibly to be furnished with instructions which would enable her to take over the dead man's work.

My position was now peculiarly difficult. I wished to get in touch with the princ.i.p.als for whom Petrovitch had acted, but to avoid, if possible, meeting any one who had known him personally.

Above all, I was determined not to risk an encounter with Sophia. She knew that I was still alive, and I feared that her feminine intuition, quickened by love, would penetrate through whatever disguise I might adopt.

Under these circ.u.mstances I decided to begin by approaching Herr Finkelstein, the head of the imperial Secret Service in Berlin.

This man was an old crony of mine. While a magnificent organizer of espionage, he was a poor observer himself, and I had already succeeded on one occasion in imposing myself on him under a false ident.i.ty.

I had brought with me the papers which I had obtained by bribery from the police agent Rostoy, representing me as an inspector in the secret police of the Russian Empire.

Wearing my pilot's dress, but carrying these and other papers in my pocket, I presented myself at Finkelstein's office, and asked to see him.

I was shown in first, as I had expected, to Finkelstein's secretary, who asked me my business.

"I can tell that only to the Herr Superintendent himself," I said.

"If you will let him know that I have just come from Petersburg, I am sure he will receive me."

The secretary seemed to think so too. He went straight into his chief's room and came out immediately to fetch me in.

As soon as I found myself alone with the head of the German service, I said quietly,

"I have brought you a message from M. Petrovitch."

"Petrovitch!" exclaimed the Superintendent, surprised out of his usual caution. "But he is dead!"

"You have been misinformed," I replied in an a.s.sured tone.

Finkelstein looked at me searchingly.

"My informant does not often make mistakes," he observed.

"The Princess is deceived this time, however," was my retort.

It was a fresh surprise for the Superintendent.

"The Princess! Then you know?" He broke off short, conscious that he was making an admission.

"The Princess Y---- having left Petersburg, it was natural to suppose that she had come here to consult you," I answered modestly, not wis.h.i.+ng to appear too well informed.

Finkelstein frowned.

"You have not yet told me who you are," he reminded me.

I produced the forged papers.

"I am an inspector attached to the Third Section, as you will see. I must inform you, however, that I am not here with the knowledge of my superiors."

The German gave a glance at the papers, which were similar to others which he must have had presented to him from time to time.

"That is all satisfactory," he said, as he returned them to me. "But you say that you have a message from M. Petrovitch?"

"He had no opportunity of giving me any but this," I responded, producing the pa.s.sport.

This time Finkelstein seemed really satisfied.

"It is clear that you know something about him, at least," he remarked. "I will listen to what you have to say."

"M. Petrovitch is confined in Schlusselburg."

The name of the dreaded fortress, the last home of so many political prisoners, caused Finkelstein a shock.

"_Gott im Himmel!_ You don't say so! How did he get there? Tell me everything."

"He does not know from what quarter the blow came. The only person he can think of who might have denounced him is the Princess herself."

"The Princess Y----?"

"Exactly."