The Pawns Count Part 24

Pamela nodded.

"Even he won't get it without Government authority."

"Now, tell me, Pamela," Van Teyl went on--"you're a far-seeing girl--I suppose we should get it in the neck from Germany some day or other, if the Germans won? Why don't you hand the formula over to the British, and give them a chance to get ahead?"

"That's a sensible question, Jimmy, and I'll try to answer it," Pamela promised. "Because when once the sh.e.l.ls are made and used, the secret will be gone. I think it very likely that it would enable England to win the war; but, you see, I am an American, not English, and I'm all American. I have been in touch with things pretty closely for some time now, and I see trouble ahead for us before very long. I can't exactly tell you where it's coming from, but I feel it. I want America to have something up her sleeve, that's why."

"You're a great girl, Pamela," her brother declared. "I'm off downtown, feeling a different man. And, Pamela, I haven't said much, but G.o.d bless you, and as long as I live I'm going as straight as a die. I've had my lesson."

He bent over her a little clumsily and kissed her. Pamela walked to the door with him.

"Be a dear," she called out, "and come back early. And, Jimmy!" ...

"Hullo?'"

"Put things right at the office at once," she whispered with emphasis.

"Fischer hasn't found out yet. I sent him a message this morning, thanking him for the carnations, and asking him to walk with me in the park after breakfast, I shall keep him away till lunch time, at least."

The young man looked at her, and at Nikasti, who out in the corridor was holding his hat and cane. Then he chuckled.

"And they say that things don't happen in New York!" he murmured, as he turned away.

CHAPTER XVI

An elderly New Yorker, a man of fashion, renowned for his social perceptions, pressed his companion's arm at the entrance to Central Park and pointed to Pamela.

"There goes a typical New York girl," he said, "and the best-looking I've seen for many a long day. You can go all round Europe, Freddie, and not see a girl with a face and figure like that. She had that frank way, too, of looking you in the eyes."

"I know," the other a.s.sented. "Gibson's girls all had it. Kind of look which seems to say--'I know you find me nice and I don't mind. I wonder whether you're nice, too.'"

Pamela strolled along the park with Fischer by her side. She wore a tailor-made costume of black and white tweed, and a smart hat, in which yellow seemed the predominating colour. Her shoes, her gloves, the little tie about her throat, were all the last word in the simple elegance of suitability. Fischer walked by her side--a powerful, determined figure in a carefully-pressed blue serge suit and a brown Homburg hat. He wore a rose in his b.u.t.tonhole, and he carried a cane--both unusual circ.u.mstances. After fifty years of strenuous living, Mr. Fischer seemed suddenly to have found a new thing in the world.

"This is a pleasant idea of yours, Miss Van Teyl," he said.

"I haven't disturbed your morning, I hope?" she asked.

"I guess, if you have, it isn't the way you mean," he replied. "You've disturbed a good deal of my time and thoughts lately."

"Well, you've had your own way now," she sighed, looking at him out of the corner of her eyes. "I suppose you always get your own way in the end, don't you, Mr. Fischer?"

"Generally," he admitted. "I tell you, though, Miss Van Teyl," he went on earnestly, "if you're alluding to last night's affair, I hated the whole business. It was my duty, and the opportunity was there, but with what I have I am satisfied. With reference to that little debt of your brother's--"

"Please don't say a word, Mr. Fischer," she interrupted. "You will find that all put right as soon as you get down to Wall Street. Tell me, what have you done with your prize?"

Mr. Fischer looked very humble.

"Miss Van Teyl," he said, "for certain reasons I am going to tell you the truth. Perhaps it will be the best in the long run. We may even before long be working together. So I start by being honest with you.

The pocketbook is by now on its way to Germany."

"To Germany?" she exclaimed. "And after all your promises!"

"Ah, but think, Miss Van Teyl," he pleaded. "I throw aside all subterfuge. In your heart you know well what I am and what I stand for.

I deny it no longer. I am a German-American, working for Germany, simply because America does not need my help. If America were at war with any country in the world, my brains, my knowledge, my wealth would be hers. But now it is different. Germany is surrounded by many enemies, and she calls for her sons all over the world to remember the Fatherland. You can sympathise a little with my unfortunate country, Miss Van Teyl, and yet remain a good American. You are not angry with me?"

"I suppose I ought to be, but I am not in the least," she a.s.sured him.

"I never had any doubt as to the destination of that packet."

"That," he admitted, "is a relief to me. Let us wipe the matter from our memories, Miss Van Teyl."

"One word," she begged, "and that only of curiosity. Did you examine the contents of the pocketbook?"

He turned his head and looked at her. For a moment he had lost the greater spontaneity of his new self. He was again the cold, calculating machine.

"No," he answered, "except to take out and destroy what seemed to be a few private memoranda. There was a bill for flowers, a note from a young lady--some rubbish of that sort. The remaining papers were all calculations and figures, chemical formulae."

"Are you a chemist, Mr. Fischer?" she inquired.

"Not in the least," he acknowledged. "I recognised just enough of the formulae on the last page to realise that there were entirely new elements being dealt with."

She nodded.

"I only asked out of curiosity. I agree. Let us put it out of our thoughts. You see, I am generous. We have fought a battle, you and I, and I have lost. Yet we remain friends."

"It is more than your friendship that I want, Miss Van Teyl," he pleaded, his voice shaking a little. "I am years older than you, I know, and, by your standards, I fear unattractive. But you love power, and I have it. I will take you into my schemes. I will show you how those live who stand behind the clouds and wield the thunders."

She looked at him with genuine surprise. It was necessary to readjust some of her impressions of him. Oscar Fischer was, after all, a human being.

"What you say is all very well so far as it goes," she told him. "I admit that a life of scheming and adventure attracts me. I love power.

I can think of nothing more wonderful than to feel the machinery of the world--the political world--roar or die away, according to the touch of one's fingers. Oh, yes, we're alike so far as that is concerned! But there is a very vital difference. You are only an American by accident.

I am one by descent. For me there doesn't exist any other country. For you Germany comes first."

"But can't you realise," he went on eagerly, "that even this is for the best? America to-day is hypnotised by a maudlin, sentimental affection for England, a country from whom she never received anything but harm.

We want to change that. We want to kill for ever the misunderstandings between the two greatest nations in the world. My creed of life could be yours, too, without a single lapse from your patriotism. Friendship, alliance, brotherhood, between Germany and America. That would be my text."

"Shall I be perfectly frank?" Pamela asked.

"Nothing else is worth while," was the instant answer.

"Well, then," she continued, "I can quite see that Germany has everything to gain from America's friendship, but I cannot see the quid pro quo."

"And yet it is so clear," Fischer insisted. "Your own cloud may not be very large just now, but it is growing, and, before you know it, it will be upon you. Can you not realise why j.a.pan is keeping out of this war? She is conserving her strength. Millions flow into her coffers week by week. In a few years time, j.a.pan, for the first time in her history, will know what it is to possess solid wealth. What does she want it for, do you think? She has no dreams of European aggression, or her soldiers would be fighting there now. China is hers for the taking, a rich prize ready to fall into her mouth at any moment. But the end and aim of all j.a.panese policy, the secret Mecca of her desires, is to repay with the sword the insults your country has heaped upon her. It is for that, believe me, that her a.r.s.enals are working night and day, her soldiers are training, her fleet is in reserve. While you haggle about a few volunteers, j.a.pan is strengthening and perfecting a mighty army for one purpose and one purpose only. Unless you wake up, you will be in the position that Great Britain was in two years ago. Even now, work though you may, you will never wholly make up for lost time. The one chance for you is friendship with Germany."

"Will Germany be in a position to help us after the war?" Pamela asked.