"I will bring my references to-morrow," I answered—"at eleven o'clock."
I bought an evening paper on my way back to the Café Suisse. Of news here was very little. A leading article commented, with what to me seemed fatuous satisfaction, upon our improved foreign relations. Our entente with France was now in a fair way to be supplemented by a better understanding with Germany. Great things were hoped from the friendly visit of our fleet to Kiel; such international courtesies made always for good. And as I walked through the twilight with the paper clenched in my hand, I forgot where I was, I seemed to see over the grey sea to where, silently and secretly, the long service trains to Germany crawled to that far northward point, disgorging all the while their endless stream of soldiers, with mathematical regularity. The great plot moved. I read the extracts from the Berlin and Frankfort papers, and I knew that the wonderful example of the world's newest Power had been scrupulously followed. No word was there of secret manoeuvres amidst the wastes of those northern sands. I read the imposing list of battleships and cruisers, now ploughing their stately way across the dark waters, and I shuddered as I thought of the mine-sown track across which they would return. I remembered what a great German statesman had once boldly declared—"there is no treachery, if it be only on sufficiently great a scale, which success does not justify." And here was I, almost the only Englishman who knew the truth—powerless!
It was a busy night at the Café Suisse. Guest promenaded the room in his tightly fitting frock coat, his grey wig, and newly grown imperial, exchanging greetings with his clients in many languages. The long table was full! Hartwell was there, and Hirsch, and Kauffman, Madame and the others. And always I fancied that when I approached their table their voices dropped a little, and covert glances followed me when I turned away. Had Madame succeeded in making them suspicious, I wondered.
They went into the club-room as usual, and a quiet time followed in the restaurant. I went to talk with Madame, but she had little to say to me. Somehow, though, I could not move a yard without feeling that her eyes were upon me. Once only she beckoned to me.
"Well," she asked, "have you found the place yet, where you will make so much money that you can send for the beloved Elsie?"
I smiled deprecatingly.
"I have answered two advertisements," I said; "one at a club, but they were no good. I am going to see a rich English lady to-morrow morning. She may engage me as butler."
"You are a very foolish young man, Herr Paul," she said. "You do not know how to look after yourself. You will never make any money!"
It was one o'clock the next morning before Guest and I turned homeward to our rooms, for we had thought it well to separate, and I could tell him what had passed between Lady Dennisford and myself. He heard me without interruption, but I saw his face twitch with anxiety.
"It is almost the last chance," he muttered.