Spies of the Kaiser: Plotting the Downfall of England

by William Le Queux

  CHAPTER VIII

  THE GERMAN PLOT AGAINST ENGLAND

  "When last I had the pleasure of meeting mademoiselle, both hernationality and her name were--well--slightly different, eh?" Iremarked, bending forward with a smile.

  From her pretty lips rang out a merry ripple of laughter, and over hersweet face spread a mischievous look.

  "I admit the allegation, M'sieur Jacox," was her rather saucy responsein French. "But I had no idea you would again recognise me."

  "Ah, mademoiselle, beauty such as yours is not universal, and is alwaysto be remembered," I said, with an expression of mock reproval.

  "Now, why do you flatter me--you?" she asked, "especially after whatpassed at Caux."

  "Surely I may be permitted to admire you, Suzette? Especially as I amnow aware of the truth."

  She started, and stared at me for a moment, a neat little figure inblack. Then she gave her shoulders a slight shrug, pouting like aspoiled child.

  There were none to overhear us. It was out of the season in Paris, andon that afternoon, the 15th of August, 1908, to be exact, we had drivenby "auto" into the Bois, and were taking our "five o'clock" under thetrees at Pre Catalan, that well-known restaurant in the centre of thebeautiful pleasure wood of the Parisians.

  I had serious business with Suzette Darbour.

  After our success in preventing the plans of the improved _Dreadnoughts_falling into German hands, I had, at Ray's suggestion, left CharingCross in search of the dainty little divinity before me, theneat-waisted girl with the big dark eyes, the tiny mouth, and the cheeksthat still bore the bloom of youth upon them--the girl who, at the Hoteld'Angleterre, in Copenhagen, had been known as Vera Yermoloff, of Riga,and who had afterwards lived in the gay little watering-place of Cauxunder the same name, and had so entirely deceived me--the girl whom Inow knew to be the catspaw of others--in a word, a decoy!

  Yet how sweet, how modest her manner, how demure she looked as she satthere before me at the little table beneath the trees, sipping her teaand lifting her smiling eyes to mine. Even though I had told her plainlythat I was aware of the truth, she remained quite unconcerned. She hadno fear of me apparently. For her, exposure and the police had noterrors. She seemed rather amused than otherwise.

  I lit a cigarette, and by so doing obtained time for reflection.

  My search had led me first to the Midi, thence into Italy, across toSebenico in Dalmatia, to Venice, and back to Paris, where only thatmorning, with the assistance of my old friend of my student days in theFrench capital, Gaston Bernard, of the Prefecture of Police, I hadsucceeded in running her to earth. I had only that morning found herresiding with a girl friend--a seamstress at Duclerc's--in a tiny flat_au cinquieme_ in a frowsy old house at the top of the Rue Pigalle, andliving in her own name, that of Suzette Darbour.

  And as I sat smoking I wondered if I dared request her assistance.

  In the course of my efforts to combat the work of German spies inEngland I had been forced to make many queer friendships, but noneperhaps so strange as the one I was now cultivating. Suzette Darbourwas, I had learned from Ray Raymond a few months ago, a decoy inassociation with a very prince of swindlers, an American who made hishead-quarters in Paris, and who had in the past year or two effectedamazing _coups_, financial and otherwise, in the various capitals ofEurope.

  Her age was perhaps twenty-two, though certainly she did not look morethan eighteen. She spoke both English and Russian quite well, for, asshe had told me long ago, she had spent her early days in Petersburg.And probably in those twenty years of her life she had learnt more thanmany women had learned in forty.

  Hers was an angelic face, with big, wide-open, truthful eyes, but herheart was, I knew, cold and callous.

  Could I--dare I--take her into my service--to assist me in a matter ofthe most vital importance to British interests? The mission upon which Iwas engaged at that moment was both delicate and difficult. A singlefalse move would mean exposure.

  I was playing a deep game, and it surely behoved me to exercise everyprecaution. During the years I had been endeavouring to prove the perilto which England was exposed from foreign invasion, I had never beennearer failure than now. Indeed, I held my breath each time Irecollected all that depended upon my success.

  Ray Raymond, Vera Vallance, and myself had constituted ourselves into alittle band with the object of combating the activity of the ingeniousspies of the Kaiser. Little does the average Englishman dream of thework of the secret agent, or how his success or failure is reflected inour diplomatic negotiations with the Powers. Ambassadors and ministersmay wear smart uniforms with glittering decorations, and move in theirsplendid embassies surrounded by their brilliant staffs; attaches mayflirt, and first secretaries may take tea with duchesses, yet to the spyis left the real work of diplomacy, for, after all, it is upon theknowledge he obtains that His Excellency the Ambassador frames hisdespatch to his Government, or the Minister for Foreign Affairs presentsa "Note" to the Powers.

  We had for months been working on without publicity, unheeded,unrecognised, unprotected, unknown. A thankless though dangerous task,our only reward had been a kind word from the silent, sad-faced PrimeMinister himself. For months our whereabouts had been unknown, even toeach other. Ray generally scented the presence of spies, and it was forme to carry through the inquiry in the manner which I considered bestand safest for myself.

  "Suzette," I said at length, looking at her across the rising smokefrom my cigarette, "when we last met you had the advantage of me. To-daywe stand upon even ground."

  "Pardon! I don't quite understand?" asked the little lady in the sheathcostume with just a slight tremor of the eyelids.

  "Well--I have discovered that you and Henry Banfield are friends--thatto you he owes much of his success, and that to you is the credit of alittle affair in Marienbad, which ended rather unpleasantly for acertain hosiery manufacturer from Chemnitz named Mueller."

  Her faced blanched, her eyes grew terrified, and her nails clenchedthemselves into her white palms.

  "Ah! Then you--you have found me, m'sieur, for purposes ofrevenge--you--you intend to give me over to the police because of thefraud I practised upon you! But I ask you to have pity for me," shebegged in French. "I am a woman--and--and I swear to you that I wasforced to act towards you as I did."

  "You forced open my despatch-box, believing that I carried valuablesthere, and found, to your dismay, only a few papers."

  "I was compelled to do so by Banfield," she said simply. "He mistook youfor another man, a diplomat, and believed that you had certain importantdocuments with you."

  "Then he made a very great mistake," I laughed. "And after your cleverlove-making with me you only got some extracts from a Government report,together with a few old letters."

  "From those letters we discovered who you really were," mademoisellesaid. "And then we were afraid."

  I smiled.

  "Afraid that I would pay Banfield back in his own coin, eh?"

  "I was afraid. He was not, for he told me that if you attempted anyreprisal, he would at once denounce you to the Germans."

  "Thanks. I'm glad you've told me that," I said, with feigned unconcern.Truth to tell, however, I was much upset by the knowledge that thecunning American who so cleverly evaded the police had discovered mypresent vocation.

  Yet, after all, had not the explanation of the pretty girl before merather strengthened my hand?

  "Well, Suzette," I said, with a moment's reflection, "I have not soughtyou in order to threaten you. On the contrary, I am extremely anxiousthat we should be friends. Indeed, I want you, if you will, to do me aservice."

  She looked me straight in the face, apparently much puzzled.

  "I thought you were my enemy," she remarked.

  "That I am not. If you will only allow me, I will be your friend."

  Her fine eyes were downcast, and I fancied I detected in them the lightof unshed tears. How strange it was that upon her attitude towards meshould depend a na
tion's welfare!

  "First, you must forgive me for my action at Caux," she said in a low,earnest voice, scarce above a whisper. "You know my position, alas! Idare not disobey that man who holds my future so irrevocably in hishands."

  "He threatens you, then?"

  "Yes. If I disobeyed any single one of his commands, he would deliver meover at once to the police for a serious affair--a crime, however, ofwhich I swear to you that I am innocent--the crime of murder!"

  "He holds threats over you," I said, tossing away my cigarette."Describe the affair to me."

  "It is the crime of the Rue de Royat, two years ago. You no doubtrecollect it," she faltered, after some hesitation. "A Russian lady,named Levitsky, was found strangled in her flat and all her jewellerytaken."

  "And Banfield charges you with the crime?"

  "I admit that I was in the apartment when the crime wascommitted--decoyed there for that purpose--but I am not the culprit."

  "But surely you could prove the identity of the assassin?"

  "I saw him for an instant. But I had no knowledge of who he was."

  "Then why do you fear this American crook? Why not dissociate yourselffrom him?"

  "Because it would mean my betrayal and ruin. I have no means ofdisproving this dastardly allegation. I am in his power."

  "You love him, perhaps?" I remarked, my gaze full upon her.

  "Love him!" she protested, with flashing eyes. "I hate him!" And shewent on to explain how she was held powerless in the hands of thescoundrel.

  "You have a lover, I understand, mademoiselle?" I remarked presently.

  She was silent, but about the corners of her pretty mouth there played aslight smile which told the truth.

  "Why not cut yourself adrift from this life of yours?" I urged. "Let mebe your friend and assist you against this fellow Banfield."

  "How could you assist me? He knows what you are, and would denounce youinstantly!"

  What she said was certainly a very awkward truth. Banfield was one ofthe cleverest scoundrels in Europe, an unscrupulous man who, by reasonof certain sharp deals, had become possessed of very considerablewealth, his criminal methods being always most carefully concealed. Thepolice knew him to be a swindler, but there was never sufficientevidence to convict.

  To obtain Suzette's services I would, I saw, be compelled to propitiatehim.

  Alone there, beneath the softly murmuring trees, I stretched forth myhand across the table and took her neatly gloved fingers in mine,saying:

  "Suzette, what I am you already know. I am a cosmopolitan, perhapsunscrupulous, as a man occupied as I am must needs be. I am anEnglishman and, I hope, a patriot. Yet I trust I have always beenchivalrous towards a woman. You are, I see, oppressed--held in a bondagethat is hateful----"

  At my words she burst into tears, holding my hand convulsively in hers.

  "No," I said in a voice of sympathy. "The professions of neither of usare--well, exactly honourable, are they? Nevertheless, let us befriends. I want your assistance, and in return I will assist you. Let usbe frank and open with each other. I will explain the truth and relyupon your secrecy. Listen. In Berlin certain negotiations are at thismoment in active progress with St. Petersburg and New York, with theobject of forming an offensive alliance against England. This would meanthat in the coming war, which is inevitable, my country must meet notonly her fiercest enemy, Germany, but also the United States and Russia.I have reason to believe that matters have secretly progressed untilthey are very near a settlement. What I desire to know is the actualinducement held out by the Kaiser's Foreign Office. Do you follow?"

  "Perfectly," she said, at once attentive. "I quite recognise the dangerto your country."

  "The danger is to France also," I pointed out. "For the past six monthsan active exchange of despatches has been in progress, but so carefullyhas the truth been concealed that only by sheer accident--a word letdrop in a drawing-room in London--I scented what was in the wind. Then Iat once saw that you, Suzette, was the only person who could assist us."

  "How?"

  "You are an expert in the art of prying into despatch-boxes," I laughed.

  "Well?"

  "In Berlin, at the Kaiserhof Hotel, there is staying a certain CharlesPierron. If any one is aware of the truth that man is. I want you to goto Berlin, make his acquaintance, and learn what he knows. If what Isuspect be true, he possesses copies of the despatches emanating fromthe German Foreign Office. And of these I must obtain a glimpse at allhazards."

  "Who is this Pierron?"

  "He was at the 'Angleterre,' in Copenhagen, when you were there, but Ido not think you saw him. The reason of my presence there was because Ichanced to be interested in his movements."

  "What is he--an undesirable?"

  "As undesirable as I am myself, mademoiselle," I laughed. "He is aFrench secret agent--an Anglophobe to his finger-tips."

  She laughed.

  "I see, m'sieur," she exclaimed; "you desire me to adopt the professionof the spy with the kid glove, eh?"

  I nodded in the affirmative.

  "Pierron knows me. Indeed, he already has good cause to remember me inEngland, where he acted as a spy of Germany," I remarked. "He is alwaysimpressionable where the fair sex is concerned, and you will, I feelconfident, quickly be successful if you lived for a few days at the'Kaiserhof' as Vera Yermoloff."

  She was silent, apparently reflecting deeply.

  "I am prepared, of course, to offer you a monetary consideration," Iadded in a low voice.

  "No monetary consideration is needed, m'sieur," was her quick response."In return for the fraud I practised upon you, it is only just that Ishould render you this service. Yet without Banfield's knowledge itwould be utterly impossible."

  "Why?"

  "Because I dare not leave Paris without his permission."

  "Then you must go with his knowledge--make up some story--a relative illor something--to account for your journey to Berlin."

  She seemed undecided. Therefore I repeated my suggestion, well knowingthat the sweet-faced girl could, if she wished, obtain for us theknowledge which would place power in the hands of Great Britain--powerto upset the machinations of our enemies.

  Mine was becoming a profession full of subterfuge.

  Her breast heaved and fell in a long-drawn sigh. I saw that she waswavering.

  She sipped her tea in silence, her eyes fixed upon the shady treesopposite.

  "Suzette," I exclaimed at last, "your lover's name is Armand Thomas,clerk at the head office of the Compte d'Escompte. He believes you to bethe niece of the rich American, Henry Banfield, little dreaming of yourreal position."

  "How do you know that?"

  I smiled, telling her that I had made it my business to discover thefacts.

  "You love him?" I asked, looking her straight in the face.

  "Yes," was her serious response.

  "And you have kept this love affair secret from Banfield?"

  "Of course. If he knew the truth he would be enraged. He has alwaysforbidden me to fall in love."

  "Because he fears that your lover may act as your protector and shieldyou from his evil influence," I remarked. "Well, Suzette," I added, "youare a very clever girl. If you are successful on this mission I will, Ipromise, find a means of uniting you with your lover."

  She shook her head sadly, replying:

  "Remember Banfield's threat. Disobedience of any of his commands willmean my ruin. Besides, he knows who and what you are. Therefore how canyou assist me?"

  "Mademoiselle," I said, again extending my hand to my dainty littlefriend, "I make you this promise not only on my own behalf--but also onbehalf of my country, England. Is it a compact?"

  "Do you really believe you can help me to free myself of my hatefulbond?" she cried, bending towards me with eager anticipation.

  "I tell you, Suzette, that in return for this service you shall befree."

  Tears again stood in those fine dark eyes. I knew of her secretaffection for yo
ung Thomas, the hard-working bank clerk, who dared notaspire to the hand of the niece of the great American financier.

  What a narrative of subterfuge and adventure the delightful little girlseated there before me could write! The small amount I knew wasamazingly romantic. Some of Banfield's smartest financial _coups_ hadbeen accomplished owing to her clever manoeuvring and to theinformation she had gained by her almost childish artlessness. Surelythe British Government could have no more ingenious seeker afterpolitical secrets than she. Women are always more successful as spiesthan men. That is why so many are employed by both Germany and France.

  In all the varied adventures in my search after spies I had never met agirl with a stranger history than Suzette Darbour. That she had actuallyimposed upon me was in itself, I think, sufficient evidence of her wit,cunning, and innate ability.

  When I rose from the table and strolled back to where we had left the"auto," it was with the knowledge that my long search had not been invain. She had taken my hand in promise to go to the "Kaiserhof" inBerlin and pry into the papers of that foremost of secret agents,Charles Pierron.

  At five o'clock next morning I was back again in London, and at ten Iwas seated in conference with Ray Raymond in his cosy flat in BrutonStreet.

  "We must get at the terms offered by the Germans, Jacox," he declared,snapping his fingers impatiently. "It is imperative that the ForeignOffice should know them. At present our hands are utterly tied. We areunable to act, and our diplomacy is at a complete standstill. Thesituation is dangerous--distinctly dangerous. The guv'nor was onlysaying so last night. Once the agreement is signed, then good-bye forever to Britain's power and prestige."

  I explained that so carefully was the secret preserved that I had beenunable to discover anything. Yet I had hopes.

  "My dear Jack, England relies entirely upon you," he exclaimed. "We mustknow the plans of our enemies if we are successfully to combat them. Inthe past you've often done marvels. I can only hope that you will beequally successful in this critical moment."

  Then after a long and confidential chat we parted and a couple of hourslater I was again in the boat train, bound for the Continent. Irecognised how urgent was the matter, and how each hour's delayincreased our peril.

  The public, or rather the omnivorous readers of the halfpenny press,little dream how near we were at that moment to disaster. The completionof the cleverly laid plans of Germany would mean a sudden blow aimed atus, not only at our own shores, but also at our colonies at the samemoment--and such a blow, with our weakened army and neglected navy, wecould not possibly ward off.

  Well I remember how that night I sat in the corner of the _wagon-lit_ ofthe Simplon Express and reflected deeply. I was on my way to Milan tojoin a friend. At Boulogne I had received a wire from Suzette, who hadalready departed on her mission to Berlin.

  My chief difficulty lay in the unfortunate fact that I was well known toPierron, who had now forsaken his original employers the Germans, henceI dare not go to the German capital, lest he should recognise me. I knewthat in the pay of the French Secret Service was a clerk in the Treatydepartment of the German Foreign Office, and without doubt he wasfurnishing Pierron with copies of all the correspondence in progress.Both the French and German Governments spend six times the amountannually upon secret service that we do, hence they are always well andaccurately informed.

  At Milan next day the porter at the "Metropole," the small hotel in thePiazza del Duomo where I always stay, handed me a telegram, a ciphermessage from Ray, which announced that his father had discovered that,according to a despatch just received from His Majesty's Ambassador atSt. Petersburg, there was now no doubt whatever that the terms offeredby Germany were extremely advantageous to both Russia and the UnitedStates, and that it was believed that the agreement was on the actualpoint of being concluded.

  That decided me. I felt that at all hazards, even though Pierron mightdetect my presence, I must be in Berlin.

  I was, however, unable to leave Milan at once, for Ford, whom I wasawaiting, was on his way from Corfu and had telegraphed saying that hehad missed the mail train at Brindisi, and would not arrive before themorrow.

  So all that day I was compelled to hang about Milan, drinking vermouthand bitter at Biffi's cafe in the Galleria, and dining alone atSalvini's. I always hate Milan, for it is the noisiest and mostuninteresting city in all Italy.

  Next afternoon I met Ford at the station and compelled him to scrambleinto the Bale express with me, directly after he had alighted.

  "I go to Berlin. You come with me, and go on to St. Petersburg," I saidin reply to his questions.

  He was a middle-aged man, a retired army officer and a perfect linguist,who was a secret agent of the British Government and a great friend ofRay's.

  All the way on that long, tedious run to Berlin we discussed thesituation. I was the first to explain to him our imminent peril, andwith what craft and cunning the German Chancellor had formed his plansfor the defeat and downfall of our Empire.

  As soon as he knew, all trace of fatigue vanished from him. He wentalong the corridor, washed, put on a fresh collar, brushed his well-wornsuit of navy serge, and returned spruce and smart, ready for anyadventure.

  I told him nothing of Suzette. Her existence I had resolved to keep tomyself. In going to Berlin I knew well that I was playing both adangerous and desperate game. Pierron hated me, and if he detected me,he might very easily denounce me to the police as a spy. Such a_contretemps_ would, I reflected, mean for me ten years' confinement ina fortress. The German authorities would certainly not forget how forthe past two years I had hunted their agents up and down Great Britain,and been the means of deporting several as undesirable aliens.

  Nevertheless, I felt, somehow, that my place was near Suzette, so that Icould prompt her, and if she were successful I could read with my owneyes the copies of the diplomatic correspondence from the German ForeignOffice.

  On arrival at Berlin I bade Ford farewell, having given him certaininstructions how to act on arrival in Petersburg. During our journey wehad made up a special telegraph code, and when I grasped his hand hesaid:

  "Well, good luck, Jacox. Be careful. _Au revoir!_"

  And he hurried along the platform to catch the Nord Express to bear himto the Russian capital.

  At the "Kaiserhof" I took a sitting room and bed-room adjoining. It wasthen about ten o'clock at night; therefore I sat down and wrote a noteto "Mdlle. Vera Yermoloff," which I gave a waiter to deliver.

  Ten minutes later I received a scribbled reply, requesting me to meether at half-past ten at a certain cafe near the Lehrte Station.

  I was awaiting her when she arrived. After she had greeted me andexpressed surprise at my sudden appearance, she informed me she had notyet met Pierron, for he was absent--in Hamburg it was said.

  "I hear he returns to-night," she added. "Therefore, I hope to meet himto-morrow."

  I explained the extreme urgency of the matter, and then drove her backto the hotel, alighting from the cab a few hundred yards away. Toanother cafe I strolled to rest and have a smoke, and it was nearmidnight when I re-entered the "Kaiserhof."

  As I crossed the great hall a _contretemps_ occurred. I came face toface with Pierron, a tall, sallow-faced, red-bearded man with eyes setclose together, elegantly dressed, and wearing a big diamond in hiscravat.

  In an instant he recognised me, whereupon I bowed, saying:

  "Ah, m'sieur! It is really quite a long time since we met--in Denmarklast, was it not?"

  He raised his eyebrows slightly, and replied in a withering tone:

  "I do not know by what right m'sieur presumes to address me!"

  That moment required all my courage and self-possession. I had notexpected to meet him so suddenly. He had evidently just come from hisjourney, for he wore a light travelling-coat and soft felt hat.

  "Well," I said, "I have something to say to you--something to tell youin private, if you could grant me a few minutes." I merely said this inorder to g
ain time.

  "_Bien!_ to-morrow, then--at whatever hour m'sieur may name."

  To-morrow. It would then be too late. In an hour he might inform thepolice, and I would find myself under arrest. The German police would beonly too pleased to have an opportunity of retaliating.

  "No," I exclaimed. "To-night. Now. Our business will only take a fewmoments. Come to my sitting-room. The matter I want to explain brooks nodelay. Every moment is of consequence."

  "Very well," laughed the Frenchman, with a distinct air of bravado. "Youbelieve yourself extremely clever, no doubt, M'sieur Jacox. Let me hearwhat you have to say."

  Together we ascended the broad marble steps to the first floor, and Iheld open the door of my sitting-room. When he had entered, I closed it,and offering him a chair, commenced in a resolute tone:

  "Now, M'sieur Pierron, I am here to offer terms to you."

  "Terms!" he laughed. "_Diable!_ What do you mean?"

  "I mean that I foresee your evil intention against myself, because of mysuccess in the Brest affair," was my quick reply. "You will denounce mehere in Germany as a British agent, eh?"

  "You are perfectly correct in your surmise, m'sieur. Here they have anunpleasant habit in their treatment of foreign spies."

  "And does it not usually take two persons to play a game?" I asked,perfectly cool. "Are you not a spy also?"

  "Go to the police, _mon cher ami_, and tell them what you will," helaughed defiantly. "Straus, the chief of police here, is my friend. Youwould not be the first person who has tried to secure my arrest andfailed."

  His words confounded me. I saw that I alone was in peril, and that he,by reason of his personal friendship with the chief of police, wasimmune from arrest.

  I had walked deliberately, and with eyes wide open, into the trap!

  "You see," he laughed, pointing to the telephone instrument on thelittle writing-table, "I have only to take that and call up the policeoffice, and your British Government will lose the services of one of itsshrewdest agents."

  "So that is your revenge, eh?" I asked, realising how utterly helpless Inow was in the hands of my bitterest enemy--the man who had turned atraitor. I could see no way out.

  "Bah!" he laughed in my face. "The power of your wonderful oldcountry--so old that it has become worm-eaten--is already at an end. Ina month you will have German soldiers swarming upon your shores, whileAmerica will seize Canada and Australia, and Russia will advance intoIndia. You will be crushed, beaten, humiliated--and the German eaglewill fly over your proud London. The John Bull bladder is to bepricked!" he laughed.

  "That is not exactly news to me, M'sieur Pierron," I answered quitecoolly. "The danger of my country is equally a danger to yours. WithEngland crushed, France, too, must fall."

  "We have an army--a brave army--while you have only the skeleton thatyour great Haldane has left to you," he sneered. "But enough! I havelong desired this interview, and am pleased that it has taken place herein Berlin," and he deliberately walked across to the telephone.

  I tried to snatch the transmitter from his hand, but though westruggled, he succeeded in inquiring for a number--the number of thepolice head-quarters.

  I was caught like a rat in a trap, fool that I was to have come there atrisk of my liberty--I who was always so wary and so circumspect!

  I sprang at his throat, to prevent him speaking further.

  "You shall not do this!" I cried.

  But his reply was only a hoarse laugh of triumph.

  He was asking for somebody--his friend, the chief of police! Thenturning to me with a laugh, he said:

  "Straus will undoubtedly be pleased to arrest such big game asyourself."

  As he uttered the words there sounded a low tap upon the door, and nextsecond it opened, revealing the neat figure in pale blue.

  Pierron turned quickly, but in an instant his face was blanched.

  "_Dieu! Suzette!_" he gasped, staring at her, while she stood upon thethreshold, a strange look overspreading her countenance as sherecognised him.

  "Ah! Look, M'sieur Jacox!" she shrieked a second later. "Yes--yes, it isthat man!" she went on, pointing her finger at him. "At last! Thank God!I have found him!"

  "What do you mean?" I demanded. "This is M'sieur Pierron."

  "I tell you," she cried, "that is the man whom I saw at the Rue deRoyat--the man who strangled poor Madame Levitsky!"

  "You lie!" he cried, stepping towards her. "I--I've never seen youbefore!"

  "And yet you have just uttered mademoiselle's name, m'sieur," I remarkedquietly.

  "He knows that I was present at the time of the tragedy," exclaimedSuzette quickly, "and that he was the paid assassin of Henry Banfield.He killed the unfortunate woman for two reasons: first, in order toobtain her husband's papers, which had both political and financialimportance; and secondly, to obtain her jewellery, which was of veryconsiderable value. And upon me, because I was defenceless, the guiltwas placed. They said I was jealous of her."

  "Suzette," I said slowly, "leave this man to me."

  Then, glancing towards him, I saw what a terrible effect herdenunciation had had upon him. Pale to the lips, he stood cowed, eventrembling, for before him was the living witness of his crime.

  I stood with my back to the door, barring his escape.

  "Now," I said, "what is your defence?"

  He was silent.

  I repeated my question in a hard, distinct voice.

  "Let's cry quits," he said in a low, hoarse tone. "I will preserve yoursecret--if you will keep mine. Will you not accept terms?"

  "Not those," I replied promptly. "Suzette has been accused by Banfield,and by you, of the crime which you committed. She shall therefore nameher own terms."

  Realising that, by the fortunate discovery of the assassin of MadameLevitsky, she had at once freed herself from the trammels cast about herby Banfield, it was not surprising that the girl should stipulate as acondition of allowing the spy his freedom that he should hand over to meall the copies of the secret diplomatic correspondence which hepossessed.

  At first he loudly protested that he had none, but I compelled him tohand me the key of his despatch-box, and accompanying him to his room atthe further end of the corridor, we searched and there found within thesteel box a file of papers which he held ready to hand over to the Quaid'Orsay--the actual information of which I had been in such activesearch.

  The German inducements were all set out clearly and concisely, thecopies being in the neat hand of the traitorous clerk in the TreatyDepartment.

  Pierron, the tables thus turned upon him, begged me to allow him atleast to have copies. This I refused, triumphantly taking possession ofthe whole file and bidding him good-night.

  In an hour we had both left the German capital, and next day I had thesatisfaction of handing the copy of the German proposals and the wholecorrespondence to the Minister for Foreign Affairs at Downing Street.

  An extraordinary meeting of the Cabinet was held, and cipherinstructions at once sent to each of His Majesty's Ambassadorsabroad--instructions which had the result of successfully combating theintrigue at Berlin, and for the time being breaking up the proposedpowerful combination against us.

  The bitter chagrin of the German Chancellor is well known in diplomaticcircles, yet to Suzette Darbour our kid-gloved _coup_ meant her freedom.

  In my presence she openly defied Henry Banfield and cut herself adriftfrom him, while Charles Pierron, after his ignominious failure inBerlin, and possibly on account of certain allegations made by the richAmerican, who wished to get rid of him, was dismissed from the FrenchSecret Service and disappeared, while the pretty Suzette, three monthsafterwards, married Armand Thomas.

  I was present at the quiet wedding out at Melun in the first days of1909, being the bearer of a costly present in the form of a prettydiamond pendant, as well as a dozen pairs of sixteen-button-length kidgloves from an anonymous donor.

  She alone knew that the pendant had been sent to her as a mark ofgratitude by
the grave-faced old peer, the confirmed woman-hater, whowas Minister for Foreign Affairs of His Majesty King Edward the Seventh.

  More than once lately I have been a welcome visitor at the bright littleapartment within a stone's-throw of the Etoile.