I sat silent. I realised the full difficulty of the Kaiser’s position. He was committed in spite of himself to the act of some impostor, whose real motives were yet to be discovered, but who had already succeeded in bringing the two greatest Powers of Europe to the verge of war.
‘Before I can undo the mischief which has been done,’ the Emperor proceeded, ‘I must first of all ascertain from what quarter this forgery emanated. When I have obtained that information, backed by clear and convincing proofs, it may be possible for me to satisfy the British Government that they and I have been the victims of a conspiracy. If you can succeed in furnishing me with those proofs, it shall be the best day’s work you ever did in your life.’
I listened carefully to these words, scrutinising them for any trace of a double meaning. It was impossible for me to dismiss entirely from my mind that suspicion which the story told by Wilhelm II. was naturally calculated to excite. I asked myself whether the Kaiser was really in earnest, or whether he was not inviting me, in a delicate fashion, to extricate him from the consequences of his own rashness, by putting together some fictitious account of the origin of the telegram, which might impose on Lord Salisbury.
It was clearly necessary, however, for me to appear to be convinced.
‘May I ask if your Majesty’s suspicions point in any particular direction?’ I asked, trying to feel my way cautiously. ‘The President of the Boers is perhaps——’
The Kaiser interrupted me.
‘I do not think Kruger would dare to provoke me by such a trick. He would know that he would be the first to suffer when it was found out. No, I am convinced that we must look nearer home for the traitor.’
Something in the Emperor’s tone struck me as significant.
‘If you could give me any indication of the person——’ I ventured to throw out.
His Majesty looked at me fixedly as he answered—