Tales of Mystery & Suspense: 25+ Thrillers in One Edition. E. Phillips Oppenheim

expenses and your salary. If you accept my offer, this is probably one of the first tasks I should commit to you.”

      “Give me a few more examples,” Norgate begged.

      “Another subject,” Selingman continued, “upon which there is wide divergence of opinions in Germany, and a great deal of misrepresentation, is the attitude of certain of your Cabinet Ministers towards the French entente: how far they would support it, at what they would stop short.”

      “Isn’t that rather a large order?” Norgate ventured. “I don’t number many Cabinet Ministers among my personal friends.”

      Selingman puffed away at his cigar for a moment. Then he withdrew it from his mouth and expelled large volumes of smoke.

      “You are, I believe, intimately acquainted with Mr. Hebblethwaite?”

      “How the mischief did you know that?” Norgate demanded.

      “Our society,” Selingman announced, smiling ponderously, “has ramifications in every direction. It is our business to know much. We are collectors of information of every sort and nature.”

      “Seems to have been part of your business to follow me about,” observed Norgate.

      “Perhaps so. If we thought it good for us to have you followed about, we certainly should,” Selingman admitted. “You see, in Germany,” he added, leaning back in his chair, “we lay great stress upon detail and intelligence. We get to know things: not the smattering of things, like you over here are too often content with, but to know them thoroughly and understand them. Nothing ever takes us by surprise. We are always forewarned. So far as any one can, we read the future.”

      “You are a very great nation, without a doubt,” Norgate acknowledged, “but my quarter of an hour is coming to an end. Tell me what else you would expect from me if I accepted this post?”

      “For the moment, I can think of nothing,” Selingman replied. “There are many ways in which we might make use of you, but to name them now would be to look a little too far into the future.”

      “By whom should I really be employed?”

      “By the Anglo-German Peace Society,” Selingman answered promptly. “Let me say a word more about that society. I am proud of it. I am one of those prominent business men who are responsible for its initiation. I have given years of time and thought to it. All our efforts are directed towards promoting a better understanding with England, towards teaching the two countries to appreciate one another. But in the background there is always something else. It is useless to deny that the mistrust existing between the two countries has brought them more than once almost to the verge of war. What we want is to be able, at critical times, to throw oil upon the troubled waters, and if the worst should come, if a war really should break out, then we want to be able to act as peacemakers, to heal as soon as possible any little sores that there may be, and to enter afterwards upon a greater friendship with a purified England.”

      “It sounds very interesting,” Norgate confessed. “I had an idea that you were proposing something quite different.”

      “Please explain.”

      “To be perfectly frank with you,” Norgate acknowledged, “I thought you wanted me to do the ordinary spy business—traces of fortresses, and particulars about guns and aeroplanes—”

      “Rubbish, my dear fellow!” Selingman interrupted. “Rubbish! Those things we leave to our military department, and pray that the question of their use may never arise. We are concerned wholly with economic and social questions, and our great aim is not war but peace.”

      “Very well, then,” Norgate decided, “I accept. When shall I start?”

      Selingman laid his hand upon the other’s shoulder as he rose to his feet.

      “Young man,” he said, “you have come to a wise decision. Your salary will commence from the first of this month. Continue to live as usual. Let me have the opportunity of seeing you at the club, and let me know each day where you can be found. I will give you your instructions from day to day. You will be doing a great work, and, mind you, a patriotic work. If ever your conscience should trouble you, remember that. You are working not for Germany but for England.”

      “I will always remember that,” Norgate promised, as he turned away.

      CHAPTER XIX

       Table of Contents

      Norgate found Anna waiting for him in the hall of the smaller hotel, a little further westward, to which she had moved. He looked admiringly at her cool white muslin gown and the perfection of her somewhat airy toilette.

      “You are five minutes late,” she remonstrated.

      “I had to go into the city,” he apologised. “It was rather an important engagement. Soon I must tell you all about it.”

      She looked at him a little curiously.

      “I will be patient,” promised Anna, “and ask no questions.”

      “You are still depressed?”

      “Horribly,” she confessed. “I do not know why, but London is getting on my nerves. It is so hatefully, stubbornly, obstinately imperturbable. I would find another word, but it eludes me. I think you would call it smug. And it is so noisy. Can we not go somewhere for lunch where it is tranquil, where one can rest and get away from this roar?”

      “We could go to Ranelagh, if you liked,” suggested Norgate. “There are some polo matches on this afternoon, but it will be quiet enough for lunch.”

      “I should love it!” she exclaimed. “Let us go quickly.”

      They lunched in a shady corner of the restaurant and sat afterwards under a great oak tree in a retired spot at the further end of the gardens. Anna was still a little thoughtful.

      “Do you know,” she told her companion, “that I have received a hint to present myself in Berlin as soon as possible?”

      “Are you going?” Norgate demanded quickly.

      “I am not sure,” she answered. “I feel that I must, and yet, in a sense, I do not like to go. I have a feeling that they do not mean to let me out of Berlin again. They think that I know too much.”

      “But why should they suddenly lose faith in you?” Norgate asked.

      “Perhaps because the end is so near,” she replied. “They know that I have strong English sympathies. Perhaps they think that they would not bear the strain of the times which are coming.”

      “You are an even greater pessimist than I myself,” Norgate observed. “Do you really believe that the position is so critical?”

      “I know it,” she assured him. “I will not tell you all my reasons. There is no need for me to break a trust without some definite object. It seems to me that if your Secret Service Department were worth anything at all, your country would be in a state almost of panic. What is it they are playing down there? Polo, isn’t it? There are six or eight military teams, crowds of your young officers making holiday. And all the time Krupps are working overtime, working night and day, and surrounded by sentries who shoot at sight any stranger. There are parts of the country, even now, under martial law. The streets and the plains resound to the footsteps of armed hosts.”

      “But there is no excuse for war,” he reminded her.

      “An excuse is very easily found,” she sighed. “German diplomacy is clumsy enough, but I think it can manage that. Do you know that this morning I had a letter from one of the greatest nobles of our own Court at Vienna? He knew that I had intended to take a villa in Normandy for August and September. He has written purposely to warn me not to do so, to warn me not to be away from Austria or Germany after the