Part 3 (2/2)

He regretted now that, in talking with Lord Rockstone, he had not made a little more show of force, for had he a.s.sumed a more dictatorial manner he would have at least aroused the fighting spirit in his stern antagonist, who might then have taken some interest in crus.h.i.+ng him under his heel; whereas now he saw plainly that Rockstone considered him beneath his notice, and thereby much valuable time had been lost. Yet he did not wish to make any show of force until he knew positively that his men were all at their stations, and that the _Little Peace Maker_ was near at hand. He must be in a position to use force before playing his last card, and he had not as yet heard from ”Specs.” Although he knew that their instruments were perfectly attuned, he had not, up to twelve o'clock of the day before, received a single vibration.

At this point he was interrupted by encountering another American who also insisted upon stopping and shaking hands. This was a young architect from New York, who had from time to time done work for his father's estate and who had also made some alterations at the Little Place in the Country for Edestone himself. He was a tall, lank young man of about twenty-seven, with little rat-like eyes, placed so close to his hawk-like nose that one felt Nature would have been kinder to him had she given him only one eye and frankly placed it in the middle of his receding forehead. His small blonde moustache did not cover his rabbit mouth, which was so filled with teeth that he could with difficulty close his lips.

”What has brought you to London, Schmidt? Aren't you afraid that these Englishmen will capture you and shoot you as a spy?”

”s.h.!.+ Not quite so loud please, Mr. Edestone; these English are such fools. They think that because a man has a German name he must be a fighting German, when you know that I am a perfectly good naturalized American citizen. My pa.s.sport is made out in the name of Schmidt, and that's my name all right, but I call myself Smith over here to keep from rubbing these fellows the wrong way.”

”Well, Mr. 'Smith,' you have not told me what you are doing in London.”

”I have been sent over by a New York architectural paper to make a report upon the condition of the cathedral at Rheims. I stopped over in London to get my papers vised by the Royal Inst.i.tute of Architects.” Then, lowering his voice, and keeping his eyes on a policeman who was apparently watching them with interest: ”I am sorry to see you here, Mr. Edestone. This is no place for us Americans, and my advice to you is to get out of here as soon as you can, and don't come back again until the war is over.”

Edestone felt that he would have said more but they were interrupted by the policeman who said: ”Excuse me, gentlemen, but these be war times, and me ordhers are to keep the Imbankment moving.”

CHAPTER V

ECHOES FROM THE WILHELMSTRa.s.sE

After leaving the War Offices, Rebener went directly to the nearest public telephone.

”h.e.l.lo, Karlbeck,” he called, after satisfying himself by mumbling a jumble of unintelligible words and numbers that he had the man he wanted on the wire. ”Is Smith there? What? Thames Embankment? What did you say is the number of that officer? Oh, my old butler, Pat! That's all right. Now listen; if I should miss Smith and he comes in, tell him to call me at my hotel at once. I have made an engagement for dinner with our man for eight o'clock tonight, but you and H. R. H.

need not be at my rooms until half-past eight. You understand, eh?

Good-bye.”

He strolled out, following Edestone's course with the air of a man wis.h.i.+ng to enjoy this beautiful spring morning, and approaching the officer who had interrupted the interview between Edestone and Smith, he said, with a little twinkle in his eye: ”Will you tell me which of these bridges is called the London Bridge?”

The blue-coated Pat, with Hibernian readiness, caught the humour of the situation. ”Shure, I would gladly, but 'tis a strhanger I am here mesilf,” he grinned as he smothered the entire lower part of his face with his huge paw of a hand, and significantly closed one eye.

”Pat, your fondness for joking will get you into trouble yet. Did Smith turn Edestone over to you?”

”He did, and I mesilf took him up to the Admiralty where he is now. 4782, I think they called him, takes him up from there, and will keep him until he hears from either you or Smith.”

”Where has Smith gone?”

”Shure he's up at Claridge's, bein' shaved by Count von Hottenroth.”

”Now, now, Pat, if you don't stop that joking of yours I'll certainly report you to the Wilhelmstra.s.se.”

”And they said I was to be the first King of dear old Ireland!” as with a broad grin on his face he raised his hand as if drinking. ”Der Tag!” he cried, thereby causing several pa.s.sers-by to laugh at the idea of a London bobby giving the sacred German toast.

Rebener, leaving him, went directly to his rooms at The Britz where he was received with the greatest consideration by everybody about the place. He was shown to the royal suite by the proprietor himself, who after he had carefully closed the door upon them stood as if waiting for orders.

”Call Claridge's on the 'phone, and tell Smith who is being shaved,”

he smiled at the recollection of Pat's jest, ”to meet me here at once. I do not want him seen in the hotel, so tell him to come in by the servants' entrance, and you bring him up on the service elevator and in here through my pantry and dining-room.”

The proprietor retired to attend to this, but was soon back, and Rebener continued his instructions.

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