Part 17 (1/2)

”Pardon me!” said the General, and then, turning the subject with exquisite tact: ”Do you remember Max?” he said.

”Do you mean the tall melancholy looking waiter, who used to eat the spare oysters and drink up what was left in the gla.s.ses, behind the screen?”

”Ha!” exclaimed my friend. ”But _why_ did he drink them?

_Why?_ Do you know that that man--his real name is not Max but Ernst Niedelfein--is one of the greatest chemists in Germany? Do you realise that he was making a report to our War Office on the percentage of alcohol obtainable in Toronto after closing time?”

”And Karl?” I asked.

”Karl was a topographist in the service of his High Serenity the King Regnant of Bavaria”--here my friend saluted himself with both hands and blinked his eyes four times--”He made maps of all the breweries of Canada. We know now to a bottle how many German soldiers could be used in invading Canada without danger of death from drought.”

”How many was it?” I asked.

b.o.o.benstein shook his head.

”Very disappointing,” he said. ”In fact your country is not yet ripe for German occupation. Our experts say that the invasion of Canada is an impossibility unless we use Milwaukee as a base--But step into my motor,” said the Count, interrupting himself, ”and come along with me.

Stop, you are cold. This morning air is very keen. Take this,” he added, picking off the fur cap from the chauffeur's head. ”It will be better than that hat you are wearing--or, here, wait a moment--”

As he spoke, the Count unwound a woollen m.u.f.fler from the chauffeur's neck, and placed it round mine.

”Now then,” he added, ”this sheepskin coat--”

”My dear Count,” I protested.

”Not a bit, not a bit,” he cried, as he pulled off the chauffeur's coat and shoved me into it. His face beamed with true German generosity.

”Now,” he said as we settled back into the motor and started along the road, ”I am entirely at your service.

Try one of these cigars! Got it alight? Right! You notice, no doubt, the exquisite flavour. It is a _Tannhauser_.

Our chemists are making these cigars now out of the refuse of the tanneries and glue factories.”

I sighed involuntarily. Imagine trying to ”blockade” a people who could make cigars out of refuse; imagine trying to get near them at all!

”Strong, aren't they?” said von b.o.o.benstein, blowing a big puff of smoke. ”In fact, it is these cigars that have given rise to the legend (a pure fiction, I need hardly say) that our armies are using asphyxiating gas. The truth is they are merely smoking German-made tobacco in their trenches.”

”But come now,” he continued, ”your meeting me is most fortunate. Let me explain. I am at present on the Intelligence Branch of the General Staff. My particular employment is dealing with foreign visitors--the branch of our service called, for short, the Eingewanderte Fremden Verfullungs Bureau. How would you call that?”

”It sounds,” I said, ”like the Bureau for Stuffing Up Incidental Foreigners.”

”Precisely,” said the Count, ”though your language lacks the music of ours. It is my business to escort visitors round Germany and help them with their despatches. I took the Ford party through--in a closed cattle-car, with the lights out. They were greatly impressed. They said that, though they saw nothing, they got an excellent idea of the atmosphere of Germany. It was I who introduced Lady de Washaway to the Court of Franz Joseph. I write the despatches from Karl von Wiggleround, and send the necessary material to Amba.s.sador von Barnstuff. In fact I can take you everywhere, show you everything, and”

--here my companion's military manner suddenly seemed to change into something obsequiously and strangely familiar--”it won't cost you a cent; not a cent, unless you care--”

I understood.

I handed him ten cents.

”Thank you, sir,” he said. Then with an abrupt change back to his military manner, ”Now, then, what would you like to see? The army? The breweries? The Royal court?

Berlin? What shall it be? My time is limited, but I shall be delighted to put myself at your service for the rest of the day.”

”I think,” I said, ”I should like more than anything to see Berlin, if it is possible.”

”Possible?” answered my companion. ”Nothing easier.”