The Secrets Of Potsdam Part 23

"No."

"Why does she warn me?"

"I cannot say," was my reply. "As you are aware, I have no knowledge of the nature of Your Highness's visit to Rome. I merely report all that I could gather from the pair, who evidently went to Gardone to meet me."

"Where are they now?"

"In Paris--at the Hotel Terminus, Gare St. Lazare. I found out that they had taken tickets to Verona and thence to Paris, therefore I telegraphed to my friend Pinaud, of the Surete, who quickly found them and reported to me by wire within twenty-four hours."

"H'm! This is serious, Heltzendorff--infernally serious," declared the Crown-Prince, with knit brows, as he commenced to pace the room with his hands clasped behind his back.

Suddenly he halted in front of me and smoothed his hair--a habit of his when perplexed.

"First, the Emperor must know nothing, and the Crown-Princess must be kept in entire ignorance at all costs," he declared. "I can now foresee a great amount of trouble. Curse the women! I trusted one, and she--ah!

I can see it all now."

"Is it very serious?" I asked, still anxious to glean the truth.

"Serious!" he cried, staring at me wildly. "Serious! Why, Heltzendorff, it means everything to me--everything!"

The Crown-Prince was not the kind of man to exhibit fear. Though degenerate in every sense of the word, and without the slightest idea of moral obligations, yet he was, nevertheless, utterly oblivious to danger of any sort, being wildly reckless, with an entire disregard of consequences. Here, however, he saw that the secret, which he had fondly believed to be his alone, was known to this mysterious Spaniard.

"I cannot understand why this girl, Lola--or whatever she calls herself--should warn me. I wonder who she is. What is she like?"

I described her as minutely as I could, more especially the unusual fairness of her hair, and the large, wide-open, blue eyes. She had a tiny mole upon her chin, a little to the left.

The description seemed to recall some memory, for suddenly he exclaimed:

"Really, the girl you describe is very like one that I met about a year ago--a thief-girl in the Montmartre, in Paris, called Lizette Sabin. I came across her one night in one of the cabarets."

As he spoke he went across to a big antique chest of drawers, one of which he unlocked with his key, and after a long search he drew out a cabinet photograph and handed it to me.

I started. It was a picture of the pretty Lola!

He watched my face, and saw that I recognized it.

Then he drew a long sigh, tossed his cigarette away savagely, and throwing back the photograph into the drawer, relocked it.

"Yes," he declared, turning to me again. "The situation is most abnormally disturbing, Heltzendorff. A storm is brewing, without a doubt. But the Emperor must know nothing, remember--not the slightest suspicion. Ah! What an infernal fool I was to believe in that woman.

Bah! They are all alike. And yet----" and he paused--"and yet if it were not for the petticoat Germany's secret diplomacy--the preparation for the great 'Day' when we shall stagger the world--could not proceed.

This, my dear Heltzendorff, has shown me that you may with advantage use a woman of whatever age as your catspaw, your secret agent, your bait when angling for important information, or your go-between in secret transactions; but never trust one with knowledge of your own personal affairs."

"Then I take it that this girl-thief of the Montmartre whom you met when out for an evening's amus.e.m.e.nt is the cause of all this trouble? And yet she said that she did not know you!"

"Because it was to her advantage to disclaim knowledge of me. Personally I do not think that the pretty Lizette is my enemy or she would not warn me against this infernal Spaniard, whoever he may be."

"If the matter is so serious, had I not better go to Paris to-morrow and see Pinaud?" I suggested.

"Excellent!" he exclaimed. "Watch must be kept upon them. The one thing to bear in mind, however, is that neither the Emperor nor my wife learn anything. Go to Paris to-morrow, and tell Pinaud from me to do his best on my behalf."

Next morning I left for Paris, and on arrival spent half an hour with Georges Pinaud in his room at the Surete.

"So His Imperial Highness does not wish the arrest of the girl Lizette Sabin?" he exclaimed presently. "I have her _dossier_ here," and he indicated a cardboard portfolio before him. "It is a pretty bad one. Her last sentence was one of twelve months for robbing an English baronet at a dancing-hall in the Rue du Bac."

"His Highness does not wish for her arrest. He only desires the pair to be kept under close observation."

"The man Aranda is, I have discovered, a dangerous person," said the famous detective, leaning back in his chair. "He has served a sentence at Cayenne for the attempted murder of a woman in Lyons. He is, of course, an adventurer of the most expert type."

I longed to reveal to my friend Pinaud the whole facts, but this was against my instructions. I merely asked him as a favour to inst.i.tute a strict vigilance upon the pair, and to report to me by telegraph if either of them left Paris.

Aranda was still living at the Hotel Terminus, but the pretty Lizette had gone to stay with two girl friends, professional dancers, who lived on the third floor of a house half-way up the Rue Blanche. So having discharged my mission, I returned on the following day to Potsdam, where, on meeting me, the Crown-Prince seemed much relieved.

His only fear--and it was a very serious one--was that to the Emperor there might be revealed the reason of that secret visit of his to Italy.

I confess that I myself began to regard that visit with considerable suspicion. Its nature must have been, to say the least, unusual if he had been so aghast at the real truth being discovered.

In the strenuous days that followed, weeks, indeed, I frequently reflected, and found myself much mystified. More than once His Highness had asked me: "Any news from Pinaud?" And when I replied in the negative "Willie's" relief was at once apparent.

One day I had been lunching in Berlin at the "Bristol," in Unter den Linden, at a big party given by the Baroness von Bulow. Among the dozen or so present were Von Ruxeben, the Grand Marshal of the Court of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha; Gertrud, Baroness von w.a.n.genheim, Grand Mistress of the Court of the d.u.c.h.ess; the Minister Dr. Rasch; and, of course, old "Uncle" Zeppelin, full of plans, as always, of new airships and of the destruction of London. Indeed, he sat next me, and bored me to death with his a.s.surances that on "The Day" he would in twenty-four hours lay London in ruins.

The guests around the table, a gay and clever circle, saw that "Uncle"

had b.u.t.ton-holed me, and knew from my face how utterly bored I was.

Truth to tell, I was much relieved when suddenly, when the meal was nearly over, a waiter whispered that somebody wished to see me out in the lounge.

It was a messenger from Potsdam with a telegram that had come over the private wire. It read: "Aranda left Paris two days ago. Destination unknown.--PINAUD."

The information showed that the fellow had cleverly evaded the agents of the Surete, a very difficult feat in such circ.u.mstances. That very fact went to prove that he was a cunning and elusive person.

Half an hour later I was sitting with Heinrich Wesener, a.s.sistant-Director of the Secret Service of the General Staff. I sought him in preference to the famous detective, Schunke, because, while matters pa.s.sing through the Secret Service Bureau were always regarded as confidential, those submitted to the Berlin police were known to many subordinates who had access to the _dossiers_ and informations.

I told Wesener but little--merely that His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince was desirous of knowing at the earliest moment if a Spaniard named Martinez Aranda should arrive in Berlin.

The curiosity of the a.s.sistant-Director was immediately aroused. So many scandals were rife regarding "Willie" that the stout, fair-haired official was hoping to obtain some further details.

"Excuse me for a moment," he said, and, after ringing his bell, a clerk appeared. To the man he gave orders to go across and inspect the police register of strangers, and ascertain if the man Aranda had arrived in the capital.

Ten minutes later the clerk returned, saying that a Spaniard named Aranda had arrived from Paris early that morning with a young lady named Sabin, and that they were staying at the Central Hotel, opposite the Friedrich-Stra.s.se Station.

Upon this information I went to the "Central," and from the hall-porter discovered that Aranda had left the hotel an hour before, but that his supposed niece was upstairs in her room.

Afterwards I hurried back to Potsdam as quickly as possible, only to find that the Crown-Prince was out with Knof motoring somewhere. Of the Crown-Princess I inquired whither he had gone, but, as usual, she had no idea. "Willie" was ever erratic, and ever on the move.

Six o'clock had already struck when he returned, and the sentry informed him that I was extremely anxious to see him. Therefore, without removing his coat, he ascended to my room, where he burst in breezily.

When I told him what I had discovered in Berlin the light died instantly out of his face.

"Is the fellow really here, Heltzendorff?" he gasped. "I had a letter from him a week ago declaring his intention to come here."

"You did not reply, I hope?"