But the officer had disappeared. Fay could hear the tramp of his retreating footsteps.
Far removed from scenes of strife and horror and suffering, separated from them by the broad blue of the Atlantic, the tide of life rolled on peacefully in the United States. Peacefully—to all appearances. There a people torn with sympathy and pity for the wrongs wreaked on helpless Belgium by the greedy hand of Germany sought to alleviate those wrongs and bring what help they could to the suffering nation by food supplies and gifts of money and clothing. They little knew that the horrors that had waged on their own shores were to meet with success. While the American people pursued their peaceful occupations, sinuous tentacles were reaching out to entangle them in the war that was casting its shadow over Europe.
On the twenty-fifth floor of a building that reared its dark heights among other skyscrapers on Wall Street, in a luxuriously furnished office, two men sat in conference—Captain Franz von Papen, Military Attache of the Imperial German Government, and Captain Karl Boy-Ed, Naval Attache.
In an outer office sat Wolff von Igel, Von Papen's secretary. His knock at the door interrupted the conference in the inner office.
"Lieutenant Fay wishes to see you."
Von Papen glanced up with a frown.
"I can't see him now. Tell him to come back in an hour."
"I told him you were busy but he has a letter from the General Staff which indicates that his visit may be of importance."
Von Papen hesitated.
"Show him in," he ordered.