The Secrets Of Potsdam Part 25

In a second I broke in.

"May I be permitted to say a word, Your Majesty?" I said. "There is a little business matter pending between this gentleman and His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince--a little dispute over money. I regret that Your Majesty should be disturbed by it. The matter is in course of settlement."

"Oh, money matters!" exclaimed the Emperor, who always hated mention of them, believing himself to be far too important a person to trouble about them. "Of course, you will see to a settlement, Count." And the Emperor turned his back deliberately upon the man who accosted him.

"It is not money that I want," shouted the adventurer from Paris, "but I----"

I did not allow him to conclude his sentence, but hustled him into an adjoining room, closing the door after him.

"Now, Monsieur Aranda, you want money, I know. How much?" I asked determinedly.

"Two hundred thousand marks," was his prompt reply, "and also fifty thousand for Lola."

I pretended to reflect. He saw my hesitation, and then added:

"For that sum, and not a sou less, I am prepared to sign a statement that I have lied, and that there is no truth in the allegation."

"Of what? Tell me the facts, as you know them, and I will then repeat them to His Imperial Highness."

For a few seconds he was silent, then in a cold, hard voice he revealed to me what was evidently the truth of the Crown-Prince's secret visit to Rome. I listened to his statement utterly dumbfounded.

The allegations were terrible. It seemed that a popular Spanish variety actress, whom the populace of Rome knew as "La Bella," but whose real name was Claudia Ferrona, lived in a pretty apartment on the Lungtevere Mellini, facing the Tiber. His Highness had met her in Coblenz, where she had been singing. "La Bella" had as her particular friend a certain high official in the Italian Ministry of War, and through him she was enabled to furnish the Crown-Prince with certain important information.

The General Staff in the Wilhelmstra.s.se were eager to obtain some very definite facts regarding Italy's new armaments, and His Highness had taken upon himself the task of obtaining it.

As Herr Nebelthau he went in secret to Rome as guest of the vivacious Claudia, whose maid was none other than the thief-girl of the Montmartre, Lizette Sabin. This girl, whose intellect had become weakened, was entirely under the influence of the clever adventurer Aranda. On the second night after the arrival of the Crown-Prince in Rome, he and the actress had taken supper together in her apartment, after which a fierce quarrel had arisen between them.

Seized by a fit of remorse, the variety singer blankly refused to further betray the man to whom her advancement in her profession was due, whereupon His Highness grew furious at being thwarted at the last moment. After listening to his insults, "La Bella" openly declared that she intended to reveal the whole truth to the Italian official in question. Then the Crown-Prince became seized by one of those mad, frenzied fits of uncontrollable anger to which he is at times, like all the Hohenzollerns, subject, and with his innate brutality he took up a bottle from the table and struck the poor girl heavily upon the skull, felling her like a log. Afterwards with an imprecation on his lips, he walked out. So terribly injured was the girl that she expired just before noon next day. Not, however, before she had related the whole circ.u.mstances to the maid, Lizette, and to the man Aranda, who, truth to tell, had placed the maid in the actress's service with a view of robbing her of her jewels. He saw, however, that, with the death of Claudia Ferrona, blackmail would be much more profitable.

Having heard this amazing story, I was careful to lock the Spaniard in the room, and then returned to where the Crown-Prince was so anxiously awaiting me.

Half an hour later the adventurer left the Palace, bearing in his pocket a draft upon the private banking house of Mendelsohn, in the Jagerstra.s.se in Berlin, for two hundred and fifty thousand marks.

In return for that draft the wily Spaniard signed a declaration that he had invented the whole story, and that there was not a word of truth in it.

It was only, however, when I placed that doc.u.ment into the hands of the Crown-Prince that His Imperial Highness breathed freely again.

SECRET NUMBER NINE

THE CROWN-PRINCE'S ESCAPADE IN LONDON

It was five o'clock on a bright September morning when His Imperial Highness climbed with unsteady gait the three flights of stairs leading to the handsome flat which he sometimes rented in a big block of buildings half-way along Jermyn Street when he made secret visits to London.

As his personal-adjutant and keeper of his secrets I had been awaiting him for hours.

I heard him fumbling with the latch-key, and, rising, went along the hall and opened the door.

"Hulloa, Heltzendorff!" he exclaimed in a thick, husky voice. "_Himmel!_ I'm very glad to be back."

"And I am glad to see Your Highness back," I said. "I was beginning to fear that something unpleasant had happened. I tell you frankly, I do not like you going out like this alone in London. Somebody is certain to discover you one day."

"Oh, bosh! my dear Heltzendorff. You are just like a pastor--always preaching." And as he tossed his crush hat upon the table and divested himself of his evening overcoat he gave vent to a half-drunken laugh, and then, just as he was, in his dress-coat and crumpled shirt-front, with the stains of overnight wine upon it, he curled himself upon the couch, saying:

"Tell that idiot of a valet not to disturb me. I'm tired."

"But don't you think you ought to go to bed?" I queried.

"Too tired to undress, Heltzendorff--too tired," he declared with an inane grin. "Oh, I've had a time--phew! my head--such a time! Oh, old Lung Ching is a real old sport!"

And then he settled himself and closed his eyes--surely a fine spectacle for the German nation if he could then have been publicly exhibited.

His mention of Lung Ching caused me to hold my breath. That wily Chinaman kept an establishment in the underworld of Limehouse, an opium den of the worst description, frequented by yellow men and white women of the most debased cla.s.s.

A year before one of the Crown-Prince's friends, an attache at the Emba.s.sy on Carlton House Terrace, had introduced him to the place. The fascinations of the opium pipe had attracted him, and he had been there many times to smoke and to dream, but always accompanied by others. The night before, however, he had declared his intention to go out alone, as he had been invited to dine by a great German financier living in Park Lane. It was now evident, however, that he had not been there, but had gone alone to that terrible den kept by Lung Ching.

There, in the grey light of dawn, I stood gazing down upon the be-drugged son of the Emperor, feeling relief that he was back again, and that no trouble had resulted from his escapade.

I called the valet, and, having handed his master over to him, I went out, and, finding a taxi, drove out to Lung Ching's place in Limehouse.

I knew the sign, and was soon admitted into the close, sickly-smelling place, which reeked with opium. The villainous Chinaman, with a face like parchment, came forward, and instantly recognized me as the companion of the young German millionaire, Herr Lehnhardt. Of him I inquired what my master had been doing during the night.

"Oh, 'e smoke--'e likee pipee!" was the evil, yellow-faced ruffian's reply.

"Was he alone?"

"Oh, no. 'E no alonee. 'E lil ladee," and he grinned. "She likee pipee.

Come, you see--eh?"

The fellow took me into the long, low-ceilinged room, fitted with bunks, in which were a dozen or so sleeping Chinamen. Suddenly he indicated a bunk wherein lay a girl huddled up--a well-dressed English girl. Her hat and jacket had been removed, and she lay, her face full in the light, her arm above her head, her eyes closed in sound slumber, with the deadly pipe beside her.

I bent to examine her pale countenance more closely. I started. Yes! I had not been mistaken. She was the young daughter of one of the best-known and most popular leaders of London society.

I had no idea until that moment that she and the Crown-Prince were such friends. A fortnight before the Crown-Prince, as Herr Lehnhardt, had attended a gay river party at Henley, and I had accompanied him. At the party the pair had been introduced in my presence. And now, within those few days, I found her oblivious to the world in the worst opium den in London!

After considerable effort, I aroused her. But she was still dazed from the effect of the drug, so dazed, indeed, that she did not recognize me.

However, I got her into a taxi, and having ascertained her mother's address from the "Royal Blue Book" in the London club of which I was a member, and where I arrived at an unearthly hour, I took her to Upper Brocklion Street.

Of the woman who opened the door I learned, to my relief, that the family were at their place in Scotland, and that the house, enshrouded in dust-sheets, was in the hands of herself and her husband as caretakers.

When I half lifted the young lady--whom I will here call Miss Violet Hewitt for the sake of the good name of her family--out of the taxi the woman became greatly alarmed. But I a.s.sured her there was nothing wrong; her young mistress had been taken ill, but was now much better. A doctor was not needed.

For half an hour I remained there with her, and then, as she had recovered sufficiently, I rose to go, intending to let her make her own explanations to the caretaker.

We were alone, and she was seated in a big arm-chair. She saw my intention to leave, whereupon she struggled to her feet, for she now realized to her horror what had occurred.

"You are Count von Heltzendorff!" she exclaimed, pa.s.sing her hand across her brow, as though suddenly recollecting. "We met at Henley. Ah! I know I--I can't help it. I have been very foolish--but I can't help it. The craving grows upon me."