Jennie Baxter, Journalist

by Robert Barr

  CHAPTER XVII. JENNIE ENGAGES A ROOM IN A SLEEPING CAR.

  Jennie had promised Professor Seigfried not to communicate with theDirector of Police, and she now wondered whether it would be breakingher word, or not, if she let that official know the result of herinvestigation, when it would make no difference, one way or the other,to the Professor. If Professor Seigfried could have foreseen his ownsudden death, would he not, she asked herself, have preferred her tomake public all she knew of him? for had he not constantly reiteratedthat fame, and the consequent transmission of his name to posterity, waswhat he worked for? Then there was this consideration: if the Chief ofPolice was not told how the explosion had been caused, his fruitlesssearch would go futilely on, and, doubtless, in the course of policeinquiry, many innocent persons would be arrested, put to inconvenienceand expense, and there was even a chance that one or more, who hadabsolutely nothing to do with the affair, might be imprisoned for life.She resolved, therefore, to tell the Director of the Police all sheknew, which she would not have done had Professor Seigfried been alive.She accordingly sent a messenger for the great official, and just as shehad begun to relate to the impatient Princess what had happened, he wasannounced. The three of them held convention in Jennie's drawing-roomwith locked doors.

  "I am in a position," began Jennie, "to tell you how the explosion inthe Treasury was caused and who caused it; but before doing so you mustpromise to grant me two favours, each of which is in your power tobestow without inconvenience."

  "What are they?" asked the Director of Police cautiously.

  "To tell what they are is to tell part of my story. You must firstpromise blindly, and afterwards keep your promise faithfully."

  "Those are rather unusual terms, Miss Baxter," said the Chief; "but Iaccede to them, the more willingly as we have found that all the gold isstill in the Treasury, as you said it was."

  "Very well, then, the first favour is that I shall not be called togive testimony when an inquest is held on the body of Professor CarlSeigfried."

  "You amaze me!" cried the Director; "how did you know he was dead? I hadnews of it only a moment before I left my office."

  "I was with him when he died," said Jennie simply, which statementdrew forth an exclamation of surprise from both the Princess and theDirector. "My next request is that you destroy utterly a machine whichstands on a table near the centre of the Professor's room. Perhaps theinstrument is already disabled--I believe it is--but, nevertheless, Ishall not rest content until you have seen that every vestige of it ismade away with, because the study of what is left of it may enable someother scientist to put it in working order again. I entreat you toattend to this matter yourself. I will go with you, if you wish meto, and point out the instrument in case it has been moved from itsposition."

  "The room is sealed," said the Director, "and nothing will betouched until I arrive there. What is the nature of this instrument?"

  "It is of a nature so deadly and destructive that, if it got into thehands of an anarchist, he could, alone, lay the city of Vienna inruins."

  "Good heavens!" cried the horrified official, whose bane was theanarchist, and Jennie, in mentioning this particular type of criminal,had builded better than she knew. If she had told him that theProfessor's invention might enable Austria to conquer all thesurrounding nations, there is every chance that the machine would havebeen carefully preserved.

  "The explosion in the Treasury vaults," continued Jennie, "wasaccidentally caused by this instrument, although the machine at themoment was in a garret half a mile away. You saw the terrible effect ofthat explosion; imagine, then, the destruction it would cause in thehands of one of those anarchists who are so reckless of consequences."

  "I shall destroy the instrument with my own hands," asserted theDirector fervently, mopping his pallid brow.

  Jennie then went on, to the increasing astonishment of the Princess andthe Director, and related every detail of her interview with the lateprofessor Carl Seigfried.

  "I shall go at once and annihilate that machine," said the Director,rising when the recital was finished. "I shall see to that myself. Then,after the inquest, I shall give an order that everything in the atticis to be destroyed. I wish that every scientific man on the face of theearth could be safely placed behind prison bars."

  "I am afraid that wouldn't do much good," replied Jennie, "unless youcould prevent chemicals being smuggled in. The scientists would probablyreduce your prison to powder, and walk calmly out through the dust."

  Mr. Hardwick had told Jennie that if she solved the Vienna mystery shewould make a European reputation for the _Daily Bugle_. Jennie did morethan was expected of her, yet the European reputation which the _Bugle_established was not one to be envied. It is true that the accountprinted of the cause of the explosion, dramatically completed with theProfessor's tragically sudden death, caused a great sensation in London.The comic papers of the week were full of illustrations showing the usesto which the Professor's instrument might be put. To say that any saneman in England believed a word of the article would be to cast anundeserved slight upon the intelligence of the British public. No onepaused to think that if a newspaper had published an account of whatcould be done by the Roeentgen rays, without being able to demonstratepractically the truth of the assertions made, the contribution wouldhave been laughed at. If some years ago a newspaper had stated that aman in York listened to the voice of a friend at that moment standing inLondon, and was not only able to hear what his friend said, but couldactually recognize the voice speaking in an ordinary tone, and thenif the paper had added that, unfortunately, the instrument whichaccomplished this had been destroyed, people would have denounced thesensational nature of modern journalism.

  Letters poured in upon the editor, saying that while, as a general rule,the writers were willing to stand the ordinary lie of commerce dailyprinted in the sheet, there was a limit to their credulity and theyobjected to be taken for drivelling imbeciles. To complete thediscomfiture of the _Daily Bugle_, the Government of Austriapublished an official statement, which Reuter and the specialcorrespondents scattered broadcast over the earth. The statement waswritten in that calm, serious, and consistent tone which diplomatistsuse when uttering a falsehood of more than ordinary dimensions.

  Irresponsible rumours had been floating about (the official proclamationbegan) to the effect that there had been an explosion in the Treasuryat Vienna. It had been stated that a large quantity of gold had beenstolen, and that a disaster of some kind had occurred in the Treasuryvaults. Then a ridiculous story had been printed which asserted thatProfessor Seigfried, one of Austria's honoured dead, had in some mannerthat savoured of the Black Art, encompassed this wholesale destruction.The Government now begged to make the following declarations: First,not a penny had been stolen out of the Treasury; second, the so-calledwar-chest was intact; third, the two hundred million florins reposedsecurely within the bolted doors of the Treasury vaults; fourth,the coins were not, as had been alleged, those belonging to variouscountries, which was a covert intimation that Austria had hostile intentagainst one or the other of those friendly nations. The whole coinagein this falsely named war-chest, which was not a war-chest at all, butmerely the receptacle of a reserve fund which Austria possessed, wasentirely in Austrian coinage; fifth, in order that these sensational anddisquieting scandals should be set at rest, the Government announcedthat it intended to weigh this gold upon a certain date, and it invitedrepresentatives of the Press, from Russia, Germany, France, and Englandto witness this weighing.

  The day after this troy-weight function had taken place in Vienna, longtelegraphic accounts of it appeared in the English press, and severalsolemn leading articles were put forward in the editorial columns,which, without mentioning the name of the _Daily Bugle_, deplored thevoracity of the sensational editor, who respected neither the amitywhich should exist between friendly nations, nor the good name of thehonoured and respected dead, in his wolfish hunt for the daily scandal.Nothing was too high-spic
ed or improbable for him to print. He traded onthe supposed gullibility of a fickle public. But, fortunately, in thelong run, these staid sheets asserted, such actions recoiled upon thehead of him who promulgated them. Sensational journals merited andreceived the scathing contempt of all honest men. Later on, one of thereviews had an article entitled "Some Aspects of Modern Journalism,"which battered in the head of the _Daily Bugle_ as with a sledge hammer,and in one of the quarterlies a professor at Cambridge showed theabsurdity of the alleged invention from a scientific point of view.

  "I swear," cried Mr. Hardwick, as he paced up and down his room, "that Ishall be more careful after this in the handling of truth; it is a mostdangerous thing to meddle with. If you tell the truth about a man, youare mulcted in a libel suit, and if you tell the truth about a nation,the united Press of the country are down upon you. Ah, well, it makesthe battle of life all the more interesting, and we are baffled to fightbetter, as Browning says."

  The editor had sent for Miss Baxter, and she now sat by his desk whilehe paced nervously to and fro. The doors were closed and locked so thatthey might not be interrupted, and she knew by the editor's manner thatsomething important was on hand. Jennie had returned to London aftera month's stay in Vienna, and had been occupied for a week at her oldroutine work in the office.

  "Now, Miss Baxter," said the editor, when he had proclaimed his distrustof the truth as a workable material in journalism, "I have a plan to setbefore you, and when you know what it is, I am quite prepared to hearyou refuse to have anything to do with it. And, remember, if you _do_undertake it, there is but one chance in a million of your succeeding.It is on this one chance that I propose now to send you to St.Petersburg--"

  "To St. Petersburg!" echoed the girl in dismay.

  "Yes," said the editor, mistaking the purport of her ejaculation, "it isa very long trip, but you can travel there in great comfort, and I wantyou to spare no expense in obtaining for yourself every luxury that thevarious railway lines afford during your journey to St. Petersburg andback."

  "And what am I to go to St. Petersburg for?" murmured Jennie faintly.

  "Merely for a letter. Here is what has happened, and what is happening.I shall mention no names, but at present a high and mighty personage inRussia, who is friendly to Great Britain, has written a private letter,making some proposals to a certain high and mighty personage in England,who is friendly to Russia. This communication is entirely unofficial;neither Government is supposed to know anything at all about it. As amatter of fact, the Russian Government have a suspicion, and the BritishGovernment have a certainty, that such a document will shortly be intransit. Nothing may come of it, or great things may come of it. Nowon the night of the 21st, in one of the sleeping cars leaving St.Petersburg by the Nord Express for Berlin, there will travel a specialmessenger having this letter in his possession. I want you to takepassage by that same train and secure a compartment near the messenger,if possible. This messenger will be a man in whom the respective partiesto the negotiation have implicit confidence. I wish I knew his name,but I don't; still, the chances are that he is leaving London for St.Petersburg about this time, and so you might keep your eyes open on yourjourney there, for, if you discovered him to be your fellow-passenger,it might perhaps make the business that comes after easier. You see thisletter," continued the editor, taking from a drawer in his desk a largeenvelope, the flap of which was secured by a great piece of stampedsealing-wax. "This merely contains a humble ordinary copy of to-day'sissue of the _Bugle_, but in outside appearance it might be taken for aduplicate of the letter which is to leave St. Petersburg on the 21st.Now, what I would like you to do is to take this envelope in yourhand-bag, and if, on the journey back to London, you have an opportunityof securing the real letter, and leaving this in its place, you willhave accomplished the greatest service you have yet done for the paper."

  "Oh!" cried Jennie, rising, "I couldn't think of that, Mr. Hardwick--Icouldn't _think_ of doing it. It is nothing short of highway robbery!"

  "I know it looks like that," pleaded Hardwick; "but listen to me. IfI were going to open the letter and use its contents, then you mightcharge me with instigating theft. The fact is, the letter will not bedelayed; it will reach the hands of the high and mighty personage inEngland quite intact. The only difference is that you will be its bearerinstead of the messenger they send for it."

  "You expect to open the letter, then, in some surreptitious way--someway that will not be noticed afterwards? Oh, I couldn't do it,Mr. Hardwick."

  "My dear girl, you are jumping at conclusions. I shall amaze you whenI tell you that I know already practically what the contents of thatletter are."

  "Then what is the use of going to all this expense and trouble trying tosteal it?"

  "Don't say 'steal it,' Miss Baxter. I'll tell you what my motive is.There is an official in England who has gone out of his way to throwobstacles in mine. This is needless and irritating, for generally Imanage to get the news I am in quest of; but in several instances, owingto his opposition, I have not only not got the news, but other papershave. Now, since the general raking we have had over this Austrianbusiness, quite aside from the fact that we published the exact truth,this stupid old official duffer has taken it upon himself to beexceedingly sneering and obnoxious to me, and I confess I want to takehim down a peg. He hasn't any idea that I know as much about thisbusiness as I do--in fact, he thinks it is an absolute secret; yet, ifI liked, I could to-morrow nullify all the arrangements by simplypublishing what is already in my possession, which action on my partwould create a _furore_ in this country, and no less of a _furore_ inRussia. For the sake of amity between nations, which I am accused ofdisregarding, I hold my hand.

  "Now, if you get possession of that communication, I want you totelegraph to me while you are _en route_ for London, and I will meet youat the terminus; then I shall take the document direct to this official,even before the regular messenger has time to reach him. I shall say tothe official, 'There is the message from the high personage in Russia tothe high personage in England. If you want the document, I will giveit to you, but it must be understood that you are to be a little lessfriendly to certain other newspapers, and a little more friendly tomine, in future.'"

  "And suppose he refuses your terms?"

  "He won't refuse them; but if he does I shall hand him the envelope justthe same."

  "Well, honestly, Mr. Hardwick, I don't think your scheme worth theamount of money it will cost, and, besides, the chance of my gettinghold of the packet, which will doubtless be locked safely within adespatch box, and constantly under the eye of the messenger, is mostremote."

  "I am more than willing to risk all that if you will undertake thejourney. You speak lightly of my scheme, but that is merely because youdo not understand the situation. Everything you have heretofore done hasbeen of temporary advantage to the paper; but if you carry this off, Iexpect the benefit to the _Bugle_ will be lasting. It will give me astanding with certain officials that I have never before succeeded ingetting. In the first place, it will make them afraid of me, and that ofitself is a powerful lever when we are trying to get information whichthey are anxious to give to some other paper."

  "Very well, Mr. Hardwick, I will try; though I warn you to expectnothing but failure. In everything else I have endeavoured to do, I havefelt confident of success from the beginning. In this instance I amas sure I shall fail."

  "As I told you, Miss Baxter, the project is so difficult that yourfailure, if you _do_ fail, will merely prove it to have beenimpossible, because I am sure that if anyone on earth couldcarry the project to success, you are that person; and, furthermore, Iam very much obliged to you for consenting to attempt such a mission."

  And thus it was that Jennie Baxter found herself in due time in thegreat capital of the north, with a room in the Hotel de l'Europeoverlooking the Nevski Prospect. In ordinary circumstances she wouldhave enjoyed a visit to St. Petersburg; but now she was afraid toventure out, being under the apprehension
that at any moment she mightmeet Lord Donal Stirling face to face, and that he would recognize her;therefore she remained discreetly in her room, watching the strangestreet scenes from her window. She found herself scrutinizing everyonewho had the appearance of being an Englishman, and she had to confess toa little qualm of disappointment when the person in question proved tobe some other than Lord Donal; in fact, during her short stay at St.Petersburg she saw nothing of the young man.

  Jennie went, on the evening of her arrival, to the offices of theSleeping Car Company, to secure a place in one of the carriages thatleft at six o'clock on the evening of the 21st. Her initial difficultymet her when she learned there were several sleeping cars on thattrain, and she was puzzled to know which to select. She stood there,hesitating, with the plans of the carriages on the table before her.

  "You have ample choice," said the clerk; "seats are not usually bookedso long in advance, and only two places have been taken in the train, sofar."

  "I should like to be in a carriage containing some English people," saidthe girl, not knowing what excuse to give for her hesitation.

  "Then let me recommend this car, for one compartment has been taken bythe British Embassy--Room C, near the centre, marked with a cross."

  "Ah, well, I will take the compartment next to it--Room D, isn't it?"said Jennie.

  "Oh, I am sorry to say that also has been taken. Those are the twowhich are bespoken. I will see under what name Room D has been booked.Probably its occupant is English also. But I can give you Room B, on theother side of the one reserved by the Embassy. It is a two-berth room,Nos. 5 and 6."

  "That will do quite as well," said Jennie.

  The clerk looked up the order book, and then said,--

  "It is not recorded here by whom Room D was reserved. As a usual thing,"he continued, lowering his voice almost to a whisper and lookingfurtively over his shoulder, "when no name is marked down, that meansthe Russian police. So, you see, by taking the third room you will notonly be under the shadow of the British Embassy, but also under theprotection of Russia. Do you wish one berth only, or the whole room? Itis a two-berth compartment."

  "I desire the whole room, if you please."

  She paid the price and departed, wondering if the other room had reallybeen taken by the police, and whether the authorities were so anxiousfor the safety of the special messenger that they considered itnecessary to protect him to the frontier. If, in addition to the naturalprecautions of the messenger, there was added the watchfulness of one ortwo suspicious Russian policemen, then would her difficult enterprisebecome indeed impossible. On the other hand, the ill-paid policemenmight be amenable to the influence of money, and as she was wellsupplied with the coin of the realm, their presence might be a helprather than a hindrance. All in all, she had little liking for thetask she had undertaken, and the more she thought of it, the less itcommended itself to her. Nevertheless, having pledged her word to theeditor, if failure came it would be through no fault of hers.