Part 32 (1/2)
The spy tore it open, read it through carefully three times, and then placed it in the fire and watched until it was consumed. What the instructions were we knew not. They were evidently unwelcome, for the man's face went grey, and scarcely uttering another word he turned and left us.
After dinner, which we took together in our sitting-room, we went out for a walk in the Linden. Rasputin was eager to go to one or other of the variety entertainments, but I dissuaded him from such an action, he being in clerical attire.
”If you go you may arouse the curiosity of some stupid policeman, and inquiries might be made concerning us. No, while in Berlin it will be necessary for you to remain very quiet,” I urged. ”Remember, the baron and certain of his friends are watching us.”
So we idled along to the Cafe Bauer, where we spent an hour watching the gay crowd, among whom were a number of convalescent officers with those in the capital on leave from Flanders. Berlin life seemed quite unchanged, and the war had not by any means checked the spirit of gaiety in its ”night life.” There had been a successful attack upon the British that day, and the ”victory” over the hated English was upon everyone's lips.
For another hour we wandered, noting the merriment and confidence in conquest on every hand.
”Truly,” declared Rasputin, ”these Germans spread reports of their own distress for propaganda purposes. Ah, they are indeed a great people, with a great leader!”
I differed from him, for I have never had a liking for Germans. At heart Rasputin had, I knew, no great liking either. He admired them and a.s.sisted them because he was a born adventurer, and as the tool of the Kaiser was well paid for his services, while at the same time he had succeeded in placing himself in the position of autocrat over the Tsar himself.
After an expensive supper at a small place near the Rosenthal Thor, where two scantily-clad girls danced while the patrons ate, we retraced our steps to the Neustadische-stra.s.se.
On re-entering the hotel the hall-porter gave me a message asking me to ring up Herr Weghinger at No. 2862, Potsdam.
This I did from our sitting-room, asking for Herr Weghinger.
”Yes,” came the voice. ”Are you Herr Koster?”
I replied in the affirmative, recognising the voice of Baron von Hausen, who said:
”Will you please tell your friend that I have arranged for your visit here, and that you will be welcomed. Be outside the French Emba.s.sy at three o'clock, when a yellow car will drive up. Enter it, and you will be brought here. I shall await you.” And then he wished me good night.
The wire over which I had spoken was, I knew, one of the private ones to the Neues Palais at Potsdam.
Rasputin had again triumphed. When I told him he laughed coa.r.s.ely, remarking:
”People are too apt to regard this Kaiser fellow as lord of the world. He will never work his will upon Gregory. Nicholas tried, and failed. Let William try, and he will discover that at least one man is his equal--and more!”
On the following day at three o'clock we both stood upon the kerb in the Pariser Platz, opposite the closed French Emba.s.sy, when suddenly from the Sommerstra.s.se a big yellow car approached us and drew up. The driver, who had evidently been given our descriptions, got down, saluted, and opened the door for us. Then a minute later we were on our way out of Berlin on the Potsdam road. The papers that day had reported that the Emperor was in Brussels, but such misleading statements are permissible in war.
When we had come down the hill to the Havel and pa.s.sed over the Glienicke Bridge, we sped through the pleasant town of Potsdam, until at last we entered the great Sanssouci Park, driving past the fountains straight up the tree-lined Hauptweg till we pulled up before the private door of the palace, that used by the Imperial family.
The baron, in uniform and all smiles, was there to meet us, as he had promised.
”I had a difficulty with the Emperor,” he whispered to me. ”But as the Father insists, His Majesty has given way.”
Rasputin overheard his words, and I saw upon his bearded lips a sinister smile.
Through rooms with painted ceilings we were conducted, through the Sh.e.l.l Salon--the walls of which were inlaid with sh.e.l.ls, the friezes being of minerals and precious stones--across the Marble Room, and then along an endless, thickly carpeted corridor, which reminded me of one at Peterhof leading to the Empress's private apartments, until the baron saluted a sentry, pa.s.sed him, and a little farther on knocked discreetly at a polished mahogany door, that of the Kaiser's private workroom.
A moment later we were ushered into a rather small room, plainly furnished, very much like an office. In a chair by the fire sat the grey-bearded Chancellor smoking a cigar, and standing with his back to the English grate was the Emperor William, looking grey and worn, dressed in a drab suit of tweeds.
”Ah, Gregory!” exclaimed His Majesty, who took no notice of my unimportant self, ”I do not forget our last meeting. Well, you have done well--excellent work for our Fatherland!” And he introduced the monk to the Imperial Chancellor, who, I thought, greeted the charlatan somewhat contemptuously.
Now, Rasputin, wearing clothes to which he was unaccustomed, and devoid of his gold chain and jewelled cross, which he had so constantly fingered when he granted audiences to those who wished to bask in his smiles--which, of course, always meant great pecuniary advantage or official advancement--seemed at the first moment ill at ease.
”I have done the bidding of my Imperial sister,” was his reply. ”I have for thee letters from her, also letters for thy wife,” and from the pocket of his clerical coat he drew four letters, rather crumpled.
The Emperor hastily scanned the two which Alexandra Feodorovna had addressed to himself, and I noticed a smile of satisfaction flit across his grey, mobile features.