Havoc

by E. Phillips Oppenheim

  CHAPTER XXXVII

  THE PLOT THAT FAILED

  The progress of the Czar from Buckingham Palace to the MansionHouse, where he had, after all, consented to lunch with the LordMayor, witnessed a popular outburst of enthusiasm absolutelyinexplicable to the general public. It was known that affairs inCentral Europe were in a dangerously precarious state, and it wasfelt that the Czar's visit here, and the urgent summons which hadbrought from St. Petersburg his Foreign Minister, were indicationsthat the long wished-for entente between Russia and this countrywas now actually at hand. There was in the Press a curiousreticence with regard to the development of the political situation.One felt everywhere that it was the calm before the storm--that atany moment the great black headlines might tell of some startlingstroke of diplomacy, some dangerous peril averted or defied. Thecircumstances themselves of the Czar's visit had been a littlepeculiar. On his arrival it was announced that, for reasons ofhealth, the original period of his stay, namely a week, was to becut down to two days. No sooner had he arrived at Windsor, however,than a change was announced. The Czar had so far recovered as tobe able even to extend the period at first fixed for his visit.Simultaneously with this, the German and Austrian Press were fullof bitter and barely veiled articles, whose meaning was unmistakable.The Czar had thrown in his lot at first with Austria and Germany.That he was going deliberately to break away from that arrangementthere seemed now scarcely any manner of doubt.

  Bellamy and Louise, from a window in Fleet Street, watched him goby. Prince Rosmaran had been specially bidden to the luncheon, buthe, too, had been with them earlier in the morning. Afterwardsthey turned their backs upon the city, and as soon as the crowd hadthinned made their way to one of the west-end restaurants.

  "It seems too good to be true," declared Louise. Bellamy nodded.

  "Nevertheless I am convinced that it is true. The humor of thewhole thing is that it was our friends in Germany themselves whopressed the Czar not to altogether cancel his visit for fear ofexciting suspicion. That, of course, was when there seemed to beno question of the news of the Vienna compact leaking out. Theywould never have dared to expose a man to such a trial as theCzar must have faced when the resume of the Vienna proceedings, inthe Chancellor's own handwriting, was read to him at Windsor."

  "You saw the telegram from Paris?" Louise interposed. "Thespecial mission from St. Petersburg has been recalled."

  Bellamy smiled.

  "It all goes to prove what I say," he went on. "Any morning youmay expect to hear that Austria and Germany have received anultimatum."

  "I wonder," she remarked, "what became of Streuss."

  "He is hiding somewhere in London, without a doubt," Bellamyanswered. "There's always plenty of work for spies."

  "Don't use that word," she begged.

  He made a little grimace.

  "You are thinking of my own connection with the profession, are younot?" he asked. "Well, that counts for nothing now. I hope I maystill serve my country for many years, but it must be in a differentway."

  "What do you mean?" she demanded.

  "I heard from my uncle's solicitors this morning," Bellamy continued,"that he is very feeble and cannot live more than a few months.When he dies, of course, I must take my place in the House of Lords.It is his wish that I should not leave England again now, so Isuppose there is nothing left for me but to give it up. I have donemy share of traveling and work, after all," he concluded,thoughtfully.

  "Your share, indeed," she murmured. "Remember that but for thatdocument which was read to the Czar at Windsor, Servia must havegone down, and England would have had to take a place among thesecond-class Powers. There may be war now, it is true, but itwill be a glorious war."

  "Louise, very soon we shall know. Until then I will say nothing.But I do not want you altogether to forget that there has beensomething in my life dearer to me even than my career for theselast few years."

  Her blue eyes were suddenly soft. She looked across towards himwistfully.

  "Dear," she whispered, "things will be altered with you now. I amnot fit to be the wife of an English peer--I am not noble."

  He laughed.

  "I am afraid," he assured her, "that I am democrat enough to thinkyou one of the noblest women on earth. Why should I not? Yourlife itself has been a study in devotion. The modern virtues seemalmost to ignore patriotism, yet the love of one's country is asplendid thing. But don't you think, Louise, that we have doneour work that it is time to think of ourselves?"

  She gave him her hand.

  "Let us see," she said. "Let us wait for a little time and see whatcomes."

  That night another proof of the popular feeling, absolutelyspontaneous, broke out in one of the least expected places. Louisewas encored for her wonderful solo in a modern opera of bellicosetrend, and instead of repeating it she came alone on the stage aftera few minutes' absence, dressed in Servian national dress. For ashort time the costume was not recognized. Then the music--thenational hymn of Servia, and the recollection of her parentage,brought the thing home to the audience. They did not even wait forher to finish. In the middle of her song the applause broke like acrash of thunder. From the packed gallery to the stalls they cheeredher wildly, madly. A dozen times she came before the curtain. Itseemed impossible that they would ever let her go. Directly sheturned to leave the stage, the uproar broke out again. The managerat last insisted upon it that she should speak a few words. Shestood in the centre of the stage amid a silence as complete as theprevious applause had been unanimous. Her voice reached easily toevery place in the House.

  "I thank you all very much," she said. "I am very happy indeed tobe in London, because it is the capital city of the most generouscountry in the world--the country that is always ready to protectand help her weaker neighbors. I am a Servian, and I love mycountry, and therefore," she added, with a little break in hervoice,--"therefore I love you all."

  It was nearly midnight before the audience was got rid of, and thestreets of London had not been so impassable for years. Crowdsmade their way to the front of Buckingham Palace and on to the WarOffice, where men were working late. Everything seemed to denotethat the spirit of the country was roused: The papers next morningmade immense capital of the incident, and for the followingtwenty-four hours suspense throughout the country was almost atfever height. It was known that the Cabinet Council had beensitting for six hours. It was known, too, that without the leastcommotion, with scarcely any movements of ships that could becalled directly threatening, the greatest naval force which theworld had ever known was assembling off Dover. The stock marketswere wildly excited. Laverick, back again in his office, foundthat his return to his accustomed haunts occasioned scarcely anycomment. More startling events were shaping themselves. His ownremarkable adventure remained, curiously enough, almost undiscussed.

  He left the office shortly before his usual time, notwithstandingthe rush of business, and drove at once to the little house inTheobald Square. Zoe was lying on the sofa, still white, buteager to declare that the pain had gone and that she was no longersuffering.

  "It is too absurd," she declared, smiling, "my having this nursehere. Really, there is nothing whatever the matter with me. Ishould have gone to the theatre, but you see it is no use."

  She passed him the letter which she had been reading, and whichcontained her somewhat curt dismissal. He laughed as he tore itinto pieces.

  "Are you so sorry, Zoe? Is the stage so wonderful a place thatyou could not bear to think of leaving it?"

  She shook her head.

  "It is not that," she whispered. "You know that it is not that."

  He smiled as he took her confidently into his arms.

  "There is a much more arduous life in front of you, dear," he said."You have to come and look after me for the rest of your days. Abachelor who marries as late in life as I do, you know, is a tryingsort of person."

  She shrank away a little.

 
"You don't mean it," she murmured.

  "You know very well that I mean it," he answered, kissing her. "Ithink you knew from the very first that sooner or later you weredoomed to become my wife."

  She sighed faintly and half-closed her eyes. For the moment shehad forgotten everything. She was absolutely and completely happy.

  Later on he made her dress and come out to dinner, and afterwards,as they sat talking, he laid an evening paper before her.

  "Zoe," he declared, "the best thing that could has happened. Youwill not be foolish, dear, about it, I know. Remember thealternative--and read that."

  She glanced at the few lines which announced the finding of ArthurMorrison in a house in Bloomsbury Square. The police had apparentlytracked him down, and he had shot himself at the final moment. Thedetails of his last few hours were indescribable. Zoe shuddered,and her eyes filled with tears. She smiled bravely in his face,however.

  "It is terrible," she whispered simply, "but, after all, he was norelation of mine, and he tried to do you a frightful injury. WhenI think of that, I find it hard even to be sorry."

  There was indeed almost a pitiless look in her face as she foldedup the paper, as though she felt something of that common instinctof her sex which transforms a gentle woman so quickly into a hard,merciless creature when the being whom she loves is threatened.

  Laverick smiled.

  "Let us go out into the streets," he said, "and hear what all thisexcitement is about."

  They bought a late edition, and there it was at last in black andwhite. An ultimatum had been presented at Berlin and Vienna.Certain treaty rights which had been broken with regard to Austria'saction in the East were insisted upon by Great Britain. It wasdemanded that Austria should cease the mobilization of her troopsupon the Servian frontier, and renounce all rights to a protectorateover that country, whose independence Great Britain felt called upon,from that time forward, to guarantee. It was further announced thatEngland, France, and Russia were acting in this matter in completeconcert, and that the neutrality of Italy was assured. Further, itwas known that the great English fleet had left for the North Seawith sealed orders.

  Laverick took Zoe home early and called later at Bellamy's rooms.Bellamy greeted him heartily. He was on the point of going out,and the two men drove off together in the latter's car.

  "See, my dear friend," Bellamy exclaimed, "what great things comefrom small means! The document which you preserved for us, andfor which we had to fight so hard, has done all this."

  "It is marvelous!" Laverick murmured.

  "It is very simple," Bellamy declared. "That meeting in Vienna wasmeant to force our hands. It is all a question of the balance ofstrength. Germany and Austria together, with Russia friendly,--evenwith Russia neutral,--could have defied Europe. Germany couldhave spread out her army westwards while Austria seized upon herprey. It was a splendid plot, and it was going very well until theCzar himself was suddenly confronted by our King and his Ministerswith a revelation of the whole affair. At Windsor the thing seemeddifferent to him. The French Government behaved splendidly, and theCzar behaved like a man. Germany and Austria are left plante la.If they fight, well, it will be no one-sided affair. They have nofleet, or rather they will have none in a fortnight's time. Theyhave no means of landing an army here. Austria, perhaps, can holdRussia, but with a French army in better shape than it has been foryears, and the English landing as many men as they care to do, withease, anywhere on the north coast of Germany, the entire schemeproved abortive. Come into the club and have a drink, Laverick.To-day great things have happened to me."

  "And to me," Laverick interposed.

  "You can guess my news, perhaps," Bellamy said, as they seatedthemselves in easy-chairs. "Mademoiselle Idiale has promised tobe my wife."

  Laverick held out his hand.

  "I congratulate you heartily!" he exclaimed. "I have been anengaged man myself for something like half-an-hour."

  CHAPTER XXXVIII

  A FAREWELL APPEARANCE

  "One thing, at least, these recent adventures should teach whoevermay be responsible for the government of this country," Bellamyremarked to his wife, as he laid down the morning paper. "For thefirst time in many years we have taken the aggressive against Powersof equal standing. We were always rather good at bullying smallercountries, but the bare idea of an ultimatum to Germany would havemade our late Premier go lightheaded."

  "And yet it succeeded," Louise reminded him.

  "Absolutely," he affirmed. "To-day's news makes peace a certainty.If your country knew everything, Louise, they'd give us a royalwelcome next month."

  "You really mean that we are to go there, then?" she asked.

  "It isn't exactly one of my privileges," he declared, "to fix uponthe spot where we shall take our belated honeymoon, but I haven'tbeen in Belgrade for years, and I know you'd like to see yourpeople."

  "It will be more happiness than I ever dreamed of," she murmured."Do you think we shall be safe in passing through Vienna?"

  Bellamy laughed.

  "Remember," he said, "that I am no longer David Bellamy, with asilver greyhound attached to my watch-chain and an obnoxiousreputation in foreign countries. I am Lord Denchester ofDenchester, a harmless English peer traveling on his honeymoon.By the way, I hope you like the title."

  "I shall love it when I get used to it," she declared. "To be anEnglish Countess is dazzling, but I do think that I ought not togo on singing at Covent Garden."

  "To-morrow will be your last night," he reminded her. "I have askedLaverick and the dear little girl he is going to marry to come withme. Afterwards we must all have supper together."

  "How nice of you!" she exclaimed.

  "I don't know about that," Bellamy said, smiling. "I really likeLaverick. He is a decent fellow and a good sort. Incidentally, hewas thundering useful to us, and pretty plucky about it. Heinterests me, too, in another way. He is a man who, face to facewith a moral problem, acted exactly as I should have done myself!"

  "You mean about the twenty thousand pounds?" she asked.

  Bellamy assented.

  "He was practically dishonest," he pointed out. "He had no rightto use that money and he ought to have taken the pocket-book to thepolice-station. If he had done so--that is to say, if he hadwaited there for the police, if he had been seen to hold out thatpocket-book, to have discussed it with any one, it is ten to onethat there would have been another tragedy that night. At anyrate, the document would never have come to us."

  She smiled.

  "My moral judgment is warped," she asserted, "from the fact thatLaverick's decision brought us the document."

  He nodded.

  "Perhaps so," he agreed, "and yet, there was the man face to facewith ruin. The use of that money for a few hours did no one anyharm, and saved him. I say that such a deed is always a matter ofcalculation, and in this case that he was justified."

  "I wonder what he really thinks about it himself," she remarked.

  "Perhaps I'll ask him."

  But when the time came, and he sat in the box with Laverick and Zoe,he forgot everything else in the joy of watching the woman whom hehad loved so long. She moved about the stage that night as thoughher feet indeed fell upon the air. She appeared to be singingalways with restraint, yet with some new power in her voice, aquality which even in her simpler notes left the great audiencethrilled. Already there was a rumor that it was her last appearance.Her marriage to Bellamy had been that day announced in the MorningPost. When, in the last act, she sang alone on the stage the famouslove song, it seemed to them all that although her voice trembledmore than once, it was a new thing to which they listened. Zoefound herself clasping Laverick's hand in tremulous excitement.Bellamy sat like a statue, a little back in the box, his clean-cutface thrown into powerful relief by the shadows beyond. Yet, ashe listened, his eyes, too, were marvelously soft. The song grewand grew till, with the last notes, the whole story of an exquisiteand expec
tant passion seemed trembling in her voice. The last notecame from her lips almost as though unwillingly, and was prolongedfor an extraordinary period. When it died away, its passing seemedsomething almost unrealizable. It quivered away into a silencewhich lasted for many seconds before the gathering roar of applauseswept the house. And in those last few seconds she had turned andfaced Bellamy. Their eyes met, and the light which flashed fromhis seemed answered by the quivering of her throat. It was hergood-bye. She was singing a new love-song, singing her way intothe life of the man whom she loved, singing her way into loveitself. Once more the great house, packed to the ceiling, was workedup to a state of frenzied excitement. Bellamy was recognized, andthe significance of her song sent a wave of sentiment through thehouse whose only possible form of expression took to itself shape inthe frantic greetings which called her to the front again and again.But the three in the box were silent. Bellamy stood back in theshadows. Laverick and Zoe seemed suddenly to become immersed inthemselves. Bellamy threw open the door of the box and pointedoutside.

  "At Luigi's in half-an-hour," said he softly. "You will excuse mefor a few minutes? I am going to Louise."