Her Royal Highness: A Romance of the Chancelleries of Europe

by William Le Queux

passing under theunassuming name of Emilio Conio.

  Apparently His Excellency had only a very limited knowledge of German,and the pair were therefore speaking in very indifferent French. TheItalian can seldom speak French well.

  Very soon Waldron ascertained that the secret meeting had been arrangedin order to discuss a forthcoming army contract for one hundred andeighty thousand pairs of boots, lucrative, no doubt. Contracts in thesedays are always lucrative. There is commission somewhere.

  "We have had many tenders," His Excellency said. "Firms in England,France, and Italy have sent in quotations and samples, in addition tofour German firms, including your own."

  "But they are all strangers, Your Excellency, no doubt," replied thegentleman from Berlin very suavely. "We are not strangers, and theterms we offer must, I think, commend themselves to you. Our last dealturned out satisfactory for both sides, did it not?"

  "Except that my secretary became suddenly most avaricious."

  "By some indiscretion on Your Excellency's part, no doubt. Secretariesare only hirelings."

  "Probably I was foolish," the General laughed. "But as I wrote you, Ithink that if I pass an order of this magnitude your firm ought to--well, they ought to increase its generosity."

  "Ah! Excellency, things are cut so terribly fine. You do not know. Inorder to compete with those Northampton and Leicester firms we have tobe content with the very slightest margin of profit, and after oursecret commission to you there is really nothing left. We have to liveand pay our people. Besides you tie us down so rigidly to dates ofdelivery."

  "Unfortunately I am compelled. I cannot show any favour to you, or ourassociation would at once be detected."

  And so, for half an hour, the two men haggled and bargained, until theGeneral who, from the conversation, had, it seemed, got six thousandpounds out of a recent contract from army food, grew impatient and said:

  "Well, it seems that we cannot do business. I am really sorry. But Ihave Menier, of Marseilles, coming to see me here at noon to-morrow. Hewill be a little more generous than yourself. I happen to know thelarge commissions which you recently paid in Turkey to secure thecontract. So why strangle me--eh?"

  "Exactly, m'sieur. But to supply army boots to Turkey and to Italy arequite different matters. To Turkey one can send any rubbish that willhang together--soles of millboard, if necessary--for with a littlebaksheesh anything will be passed. But in Rome you have yourcommission, remember, and those officers of yours cannot be bribed."

  "Perhaps it is as well," laughed the General. "What I fear is that if Isign your contract my secretary will at once suspect commission, andmake a demand upon me--as he did before--the worm!"

  "Well, permit me to remark that the sum is a really respectable one, andif we pay it on receipt of the contract into an English bank to theaccount of the Countess Cioni, as before, it cannot be traced to you."

  "Ah yes. But my secretary is a very shrewd person. I would have togive him something--however small."

  Again the two men haggled, while Waldron knelt, holding his breath andlistening to the corrupt bargain whereby the Italian Army were to besupplied with inferior German boots in order that His Excellency, theMinister of War, should profit. But in most European countries the samething is done and winked at.

  "If you are to have the contract, Herr Steinberg," the General saiddecisively at last, "you must give me an extra half per cent. I willnot sign it without."

  "Upon the whole amount?"

  "Yes, on the whole amount."

  "But the total contract amounts to nearly a million francs."

  "Exactly. I gave you the tinned-food contract. It is large, thereforeI require a larger sum for my signature."

  There was silence for a few moments.

  To Waldron it seemed by the rustle of paper that the German contractormust be scribbling a rapid sum to see exactly what the commissionamounted to.

  "I shall, of course, want the usual sum, twenty-five thousand francsdown and the balance placed to the credit of the Countess in Londonseven days after the signed contract is delivered to you in Berlin," HisExcellency said.

  "Well," exclaimed the German in dismay at last. "That leaves us so verylittle that I really cannot decide it off-hand. I must telegraph atonce to my partner, and will give you a decision to-morrow."

  "No, Herr Steinberg," was the General's answer. "I must know now--atonce--yes or no. Personally it would give me greater popularity if Idealt in France, rather than in Germany. Besides, if I deal withMenier, my secretary knows nothing. So there is the position. You mayleave or accept my terms--whichever you like. It is quite immaterial tome."

  Again they argued and haggled, the German pleading for time tocommunicate with his partner in Berlin, the General quite obdurate. Thelatter had much experience of contractors.

  At last Herr Steinberg, shrewd business man that he was, seeing that theGeneral's mind was made up, said: "Very well. I accept your terms."

  "Good," answered the General. "I shall sign the contract as soon as Ireturn to Rome--the day after to-morrow--and send it to you in Berlin byspecial messenger."

  "Agreed. Perhaps you will write me a letter?"

  "At once," was the reply. Then after another brief silence, duringwhich time both had scribbled some agreement, the German said:

  "I think that will suffice."

  "And this?" asked the General.

  They read each other's letters, expressed satisfaction, and then Waldronheard a slight click, the opening and shutting of a wallet.

  Some notes were counted out--to the sum of one thousand pounds. Theyrustled, and the listener knew that they were English notes so that theycould not be traced so easily as those which the unscrupulous Germancontractor might withdraw from his own bank in Berlin.

  His Excellency counted them, declared the sum to be correct, and then,after a further brief conversation the German left, His Excellencyremaining so as not to be seen in his company.

  The deal was concluded. Though interesting to Hubert, it howevercarried him no farther in his inquiry. It proved of course that GeneralCataldi, Minister of War, was corrupt and unscrupulous, yet were not themajority of the men who formed the Cabinet equally ready to acceptbribes?

  He stood in that artistically furnished bedroom full of chagrin. He hadpractically had his journey there for nothing, and had lost valuabletime by his absence from Rome.

  Therefore he slipped out along the corridor, and two hours later was onhis way to Culoz, to catch the _train-de-luxe_ from Paris to Rome.

  During that night as the express roared through the mountains he lay inhis narrow sleeping-berth watching the green-shaded lamp above, and fullof conflicting thoughts.

  The attempt upon his life showed plainly that the thief was aware of thestrenuous efforts he was making to fathom the mystery. But who was thethief! Was it this unscrupulous, much-decorated General who took secretcommission of contractors, the man who allowed the army to be fed ondiscarded tin food, and go shod in cheap German boots which wore inholes on the first march, in order to enrich himself?

  Long and deeply he thought, and still the conviction clung to him thatthe person mainly responsible for the sale of the plans to Austria wasHis Excellency himself.

  Thoughts of Her Highness rose within him. He sighed. Yes, he loved herwith all his body and soul. Yet that barrier of birth could never bebridged. After all, they could be only good friends, therefore he hadnever dared to declare his love. She was a Princess of the blood-royaland might marry a reigning Sovereign, but he was a mere diplomat, asecretary of Embassy, a man whom the Court regarded as the necessaryadjunct of a practically defunct institution, for, however much one maycling in these days to the old usages and customs, yet the glaring factmust be faced that kings themselves are the ambassadors, and royalvisits from one Court to another tend to cement more internationalfriendships than ten years of that narrow little squabbling andintriguing world which exists in every capital unde
r the name of the_corps diplomatique_.

  The public have been long enough gulled by the false tinsel and glamourof the diplomatic world, and in these ultra-modern days they see theinutility of it all. Often an obscure Vice-Consul in an obscure port isof greater use to the nation than the whole of the red-taped,ceremonious Embassy, with its splendid house, its dinners and dances,its flunkeys and furbelows, and its flabby, do-nothing policy directedfrom Downing Street.

  Hubert Waldron, born and bred in the diplomatic atmosphere and nurturedupon the squabbles and petty jealousies of international politics, couldnot close his eyes to the fact that the public of Europe were beinggulled daily by the Press, and that at an hour when all would seemquietest and most peaceful, the great and terrible European war wouldsuddenly break out.

  Though at the