Tales of Mystery & Suspense: 25+ Thrillers in One Edition. E. Phillips OppenheimЧитать онлайн книгу.
back and forth under the trees and around the polo field.
“It will come like a thunderbolt,” she said, “and when I think of it, all that is English in me rises up in revolt. In my heart I know so well that it is Germany and Germany alone who will provoke this war. I am terrified for your country. I admit it, you see, frankly. The might of Germany is only half understood here. It is to be a war of conquest, almost of extermination.”
“That isn’t the view of your friend Selingman,” Norgate reminded her. “He, too, hints at coming trouble, but he speaks of it as just a salutary little lesson.”
“Selingman, more than any one else in the world, knows differently,” she assured him. “But come, we talk too seriously on such a wonderful afternoon. I have made up my mind on one point, at least. I will stay here for a few days longer. London at this time of the year is wonderful. Besides, I have promised the Princess of Thurm that I will go to Ascot with her. Why should we talk of serious things any longer? Let us have a little rest. Let us promenade there with those other people, and listen to the band, and have some tea afterwards.”
Norgate rose with alacrity, and they strolled across the lawns and down towards the polo field. Very soon they found themselves meeting friends in every direction. Anna extricated herself from a little group of acquaintances who had suddenly claimed her and came over to Norgate.
“Prince Herschfeld wants to talk to me for a few minutes,” she whispered. “I think I should like to hear what he has to say. The Princess is there, too, whom I have scarcely seen. Will you come and be presented?”
“Might I leave you with them for a few minutes?” Norgate suggested. “There is a man here whom I want to talk to. I will come back for you in half an hour.”
“You must meet the Prince first,” she insisted. “He was interested when he heard who you were.”
She turned to the little group who were awaiting her return. The Ambassador moved a little forward.
“Prince,” she said, “may I present to you Mr. Francis Norgate? Mr. Norgate has just come from Berlin.”
“Not with the kindliest feelings towards us, I am afraid,” remarked the Prince, holding out his hand. “I hope, however, that you will not judge us, as a nation, too severely.”
“On the contrary, I was quite prepared to like Germany,” Norgate declared. “I was simply the victim of a rather unfortunate happening.”
“There are many others besides myself who sincerely regret it,” the Prince said courteously. “You are kind enough to leave the Baroness for a little time in our charge. We will take the greatest care of her, and I hope that when you return you will give me the great pleasure of presenting you to the Princess.”
“You are very kind,” Norgate murmured.
“We shall meet again, then,” the Prince declared, as he turned away with Anna by his side.
“In half an hour,” Anna whispered, smiling at him over her shoulder.
CHAPTER XX
The Right Honourable John William Hebblethwaite strolled along by the rails of the polo ground, exchanging greetings with friends, feeling very well content with himself and the world generally. A difficult session was drawing towards an end. The problem which had defeated so many governments seemed at last, under his skilful treatment, capable of solution. Furthermore, the session had been one which had added to his reputation both as an orator and a statesman. There had been an astonishingly flattering picture of him in an illustrated paper that week, and he was exceedingly pleased with the effect of the white hat which he was wearing at almost a jaunty angle. He was a great man and he knew it. Nevertheless, he greeted Norgate with ample condescension and engaged him at once in conversation.
“Delighted to see you in such company, my young friend,” he declared. “I think that half an hour’s conversation with Prince Herschfeld would put some of those fire-eating ideas out of your head. That’s the man whom we have to thank for the everyday improvement of our relations with Germany.”
“The Prince has the reputation of being a great diplomatist,” Norgate remarked.
“Added to which,” Hebblethwaite continued, “he came over here charged, as you might say, almost with a special mission. He came over here to make friends with England. He has done it. So long as we have him in London, there will never be any serious fear of misunderstanding between the two countries.”
“What a howling optimist you are!” Norgate observed.
“My young friend,” Hebblethwaite protested, “I am nothing of the sort. I am simply a man of much common sense, enjoying, I may add, a few hours’ holiday. By-the-by, Norgate, if one might venture to enquire without indiscretion, who was the remarkably charming foreign lady whom you were escorting?”
“The Baroness von Haase,” Norgate replied. “She is an Austrian.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite sighed. He rather posed as an admirer of the other sex.
“You young fellows,” he declared, “who travel about the world, are much to be envied. There is an elegance about the way these foreign women dress, a care for detail in their clothes and jewellery, and a carriage which one seldom finds here.”
They had reached the far end of the field, having turned their backs, in fact, upon the polo altogether. Norgate suddenly abandoned their conversation.
“Look here,” he said, in an altered tone, “do you feel inclined to answer a few questions?”
“For publication?” Hebblethwaite asked drily. “You haven’t turned journalist, by any chance, have you?”
Norgate shook his head. “Nevertheless,” he admitted, “I have changed my profession. The fact is that I have accepted a stipend of a thousand a year and have become a German spy.”
“Good luck to you!” exclaimed Hebblethwaite, laughing softly. “Well, fire away, then. You shall pick the brains of a Cabinet Minister at your leisure, so long as you’ll give me a cigarette—and present me, when we have finished, to the Baroness. The country has no secrets from you, Norgate. Where will you begin?”
“Well, you’ve been warned, any way,” Norgate reminded him, as he offered his cigarette case. “Now tell me. It is part of my job to obtain from you a statement of your opinion as to exactly how far our entente with France is binding upon us.”
Hebblethwaite cleared his throat.
“If this is for publication,” he remarked, “could you manage a photograph of myself at the head of the interview, in these clothes and with this hat? I rather fancy myself to-day. A pocket kodak is, of course, part of the equipment of a German spy.”
“Sorry,” Norgate regretted, “but that’s a bit out of my line. I am the disappointed diplomatist, doing the dirty work among my late friends. What we should like to know from Mr. Hebblethwaite, confidentially narrated to a personal friend, is whether, in the event of a war between Germany and Russia and France, England would feel it her duty to intervene?”
Hebblethwaite glanced around. The throng of people had cleared off to watch the concluding stages of the match.
“I have a sovereign on this,” he remarked, glancing at his card.
“Which have you backed?” Norgate enquired.
“The Lancers.”
“Well, it’s any odds on the Hussars, so you’ve lost your money,” Norgate told him.
Hebblethwaite sighed resignedly. “Well,” he said, “the question you submit is a problem which has presented itself to us once or twice, although I may tell you that there isn’t