‘Have you any commands for Geneva?’ I asked. ‘I shall be there in the course of two days.’
Masileff let himself be surprised.
‘But I thought you were a friend of the Countess?’ he stammered.
‘Certainly—as you are,’ I retorted. ‘It seems to me that the Countess is doing a very good stroke of work for a cause in which you and I are both interested.’
Masileff glanced at me with curiosity.
‘Do you know, Monsieur V——’ (I had not seen cause to disguise my identity on this occasion), ‘that I think you must be more fortunate than I am. That is to say, I think you must possess the confidence of a person who has not yet honoured me by a sign that my services are acceptable to him.’
‘Thank you, Colonel,’ I replied, bowing. ‘Your message shall be delivered in the right quarter.’
I left Belgrade the same night, and two days later found myself in the presence of a quiet, elderly man in a modest apartment near the famous Lake Leman.
I had sent in my card with the pencilled addition: ‘Confidential agent of the Tsar, the German Emperor, and Monsieur Chamberlain.’
I felt sure that the names of the powerful triumvirate who, between them, controlled the destinies of the Old World, would secure me the attention of Prince Peter Karageorgevitch; and I was not mistaken.