“England! Of course! At least England thinks so.”
“Of course she does! Is there anything in the world that Britain does not take to herself? She thinks Wilhelm is aiming at her and he lets her think so. He doesn’t mind. But why on earth should he be aiming at her? What has he to gain?”
His Excellency smiled. He was enjoying himself mightily. Nothing in his experience with Rutile had led him to suspect that personage of this sort of thing. He had always looked upon the secretary merely as a perfectly trained automaton who always knew the right thing to do and did it without fuss, and he had been content to leave official business altogether in his capable hands, and to confine himself to the promotion of that cordiality between the two nations that follows a well-cooked dinner. And here was this perfectly trained automaton lecturing him like a schoolboy.
“Doesn’t she want territory?” he asked.
“Territory!” Rutile was growing excited. “Just think what Your Excellency is suggesting!” he cried. “Germany today has a fleet less than half as powerful as that of England, and it will be many a long day before she can match her. England is wailing today, not because Germany is overtaking her on the sea, but because she fears she may not be able to remain as powerful as Germany and the second strongest sea power combined. So the result of any war that Germany may wage against England will be more than doubtful. And if she wins she will gain only worthless territory or territory settled by English. On the other hand suppose she is aiming at Brazil. In a few months she will be as strong on the sea as the United States, which alone stands between her and Brazil. Does your Excellency see no significance in a German rebellion in South Brazil aided by German officers and German filibusters?”
The ambassador smiled. “Not much, I’m afraid,” he replied, indulgently. “You are more excitable than I supposed, my dear fellow. The Emperor wants Brazil, of course; there’s nothing new in that. I’ve read a dozen newspaper stories about it. But none of them ever came true. And none ever will.”
“But—”
The ambassador rose. “What do you want me to do, Rutile?” he asked, seriously.
The secretary hesitated. “I wanted you to send a scarce-story to Washington,” he answered at last. “But I see you wouldn’t care to stand for it. So I should like permission to run down to Hamburg and see what I can learn about those shipments of arms. Mr. Cox can easily attend to my duties while I am gone. May I have your permission, sir?”
“Certainly! Certainly! Act on your best judgement. And if you can bring me any definite proof, my boy, I’ll act on it. You can rely on me.”