The Great Impersonation, E. Phillips Oppenheim [finding audrey TXT] 📗

Leopold. Freda has asked me to stay and talk to her for an hour. My car waits. Arrange that he drives me home. Oh! believe me, dear friend, I am a very human woman, and there is nothing in the world to be gained by treating me as though I were of wood or stone. Tonight I can see him without observation. If you refuse, I shall take other means. I will make no promises. I will not even promise that I will not call out before him in the streets that he is a liar, that his life is a lie. I will call him Leopold Von Ragastein⁠—”

“Hush!” he begged her. “Stephanie, you are nervous. I have not yet answered your entreaty.”

“You consent?”

“I consent,” he promised. “After our interview, I shall bring the young man to Freda’s room and present him. You will be there. He can offer you his escort.”

She suddenly stooped and kissed his hand. An immense relief was in her face.

“Now I will keep you no longer. Freda is waiting for me.”

The Ambassador strolled thoughtfully away into his own den at the back of the house, where Dominey was waiting for him.

“I am glad to see you,” the former said, holding out his hand. “For five minutes I desire to talk to your real self. After that, for the rest of your time in England, I will respect your new identity.”

Dominey bowed in silence. His host pointed to the sideboard.

“Come,” he continued, “there are cigars and cigarettes at your elbow, whisky and soda on the sideboard. Make yourself at home in that chair there. Africa has really changed you very little. Do you remember our previous meeting, in Saxony?”

“I remember it perfectly, your Excellency.”

“His Majesty knew how to keep Court in those days,” the Ambassador went on. “One was tempted to believe oneself at an English country party. However, that much of the past. You know, of course, that I entirely disapprove of your present position here?”

“I gathered as much, your Excellency.”

“We will have no reserves with one another,” the Prince declared, lighting a cigar. “I know quite well that you form part of a network of espionage in this country which I consider wholly unnecessary. That is simply a question of method. I have no doubt that you are here with the same object as I am, the object which the Kaiser has declared to me with his own lips is nearest to his heart⁠—to cement the bonds of friendship between Germany and England.”

“You believe, sir, that that is possible?”

“I am convinced of it,” was the earnest reply. “I do not know what the exact nature of your work over here is to be, but I am glad to have an opportunity of putting before you my convictions. I believe that in Berlin the character of some of the leading statesmen here has been misunderstood and misrepresented. I find on all sides of me an earnest and sincere desire for peace. I have convinced myself that there is not a single statesman in this country who is desirous of war with Germany.”

Dominey was listening intently, with the air of one who hears unexpected things.

“But, your Excellency,” he ventured, “what about the matter from our point of view? There are a great many in our country, whom you and I know of, who look forward to a war with England as inevitable. Germany must become, we all believe, the greatest empire in the world. She must climb there, as one of our friends once said, with her foot upon the neck of the British lion.”

“You are out of date,” the Ambassador declared earnestly. “I see now why they sent you to me. Those days have passed. There is room in the world for Great Britain and for Germany. The disintegration of Russia in the near future is a certainty. It is eastward that we must look for any great extension of territory.”

“These things have been decided?”

“Absolutely! They form the soul of my mission here. My mandate is one of peace, and the more I see of English statesmen and the more I understand the British outlook, the more sanguine I am as to the success of my efforts. This is why all this outside espionage with which Seaman is so largely concerned seems to me at times unwise and unnecessary.”

“And my own mission?” Dominey enquired.

“Its nature,” the Prince replied, “is not as yet divulged, but if, as I have been given to understand, it is to become closely connected with my own, then I am very sure you will presently find that its text also is Peace.”

Dominey rose to his feet, prepared to take his leave.

“These matters will be solved for us,” he murmured.

“There is just one word more, on a somewhat more private matter,” Terniloff said in an altered tone. “The Princess Eiderstrom is upstairs.”

“In this house?”

“Waiting for a word with you. Our friend Seaman has been with her this evening. I understand that she is content to subscribe to the present situation. She makes one condition, however.”

“And that?”

“She insists upon it that I present Sir Everard Dominey.”

The latter did not attempt to conceal his perturbation.

“I need scarcely point out to you, sir,” he protested, “that any association between the Princess and myself is likely to largely increase the difficulties of my position here.”

The Ambassador sighed.

“I quite appreciate that,” he admitted. “Both Seaman and I have endeavoured to reason with her, but, as you are doubtless aware, the Princess is a woman of very strong will. She is also very powerfully placed here, and it is the urgent desire of the Court at Berlin to placate in every way the Hungarian nobility. You will understand, of course, that I speak from a political point of view only. I cannot ignore the fact of your unfortunate relations with the late Prince, but in considering the present position you will, I am sure, remember the greater interests.”

His visitor was silent for a moment.

“You say that the Princess