shrugged her pearly white shoulders.
“Krust can take care of himself,” she said. “He is, as I dare say you have heard, the richest man in Germany, and he is reputed to have a secret body of armed guards, some of whom are never far distant. In any case, the present situation has all developed in a week. This was Von Salzenburg’s headquarters before Behrling decided to establish himself here. A month ago Gustaf there was bowing to other lords.”
For the second time that evening some measure of commotion was manifest at the entrance. This time, however, there was no intimation of any dispute. A great man was being welcomed. Heinrich Behrling, in plain evening clothes, handed his overcoat and soft black hat to an attendant and followed Gustaf’s outstretched hand towards the table where Fawley and his companion were seated.
CHAPTER XVI
Fawley watched his approaching host with calm and critical interest. His travels in the country during the last few days had already convinced him that great events were looming. A tortured nation was on the point of breaking its bonds. An atmosphere of impending cataclysm was brooding over the place. The worn faces of the people, the continuous stream of processions, the crowded cafés all gave evidence of it. It was as though there were dynamite upon the pavements and liquid dynamite in the air, dynamite which needed only a spark to light the storm. Even in this luxurious and secluded restaurant, Fawley thought that the first mutterings of the thunder might begin…Looking across the room, he saw the good-natured expression fade from the face of Adolf Krust, the great industrialist, saw his eyes receding into his head, alight as they were with hatred, saw the menacing curve of his lips as he stared at the approaching figure. Elida touched her companion on the arm.
“You see what is happening,” she whispered. “Every other table in the restaurant has an engaged card upon it. Now watch.”
Without any confusion or haste, a well-behaved, good-looking crowd of young men, with here and there a woman companion, had followed Behrling into the place. Every one knew his table and occupied it swiftly. They wore no sort of uniform, these newcomers. They were dressed with singular precision in the fashion of the day, but there was a small brown ribbon upon the lapel of their dinner coats. Furthermore, although they were of varying types, there was a curious similitude in their bearing and expression.
“Interesting,” Fawley murmured. “I gather that these young men have all been subjected to some sort of military training?”
“They are Behrling’s bodyguard,” she confided. “It is not his own idea; it is the idea of those who would protect him. Krust to-night, for instance, might easily have made mischief. What chance has he now? He has not been allowed a table within fifty feet of us and his slightest movement will be watched.”
She rose to her feet to welcome the newcomer. Fawley followed her example. Behrling, still without a smile upon his strong colourless face, bowed formally to them both and sank into the vacant chair.
“You have been entertained, I hope, Major Fawley?” he asked.
“Admirably,” the other assured him.
“You will remember that you are my guests,” he went on. “Supper, I think, has already been ordered. You will forgive me if I drink nothing but coffee and eat some plain food. I see,” he added, glancing across the room, “that our friends the enemy are represented here to-night.”
Elida nodded.
“Adolf Krust has been over to speak to us,” she remarked. “He looks upon Major Fawley as a lamb in danger of straying from the fold.”
“I hear that he was at the Italian Embassy this evening,” Behrling confided. “Does that disconcert you, Major Fawley?”
“Not in the least,” was the composed reply. “The work of investigation which I have to do I shall do in my own way and in my own fashion. Krust will not interfere with or influence me.”
“You are in a difficult position,” Behrling continued, as he watched the glasses being refilled with champagne and sipped his own coffee. “Italy is employing you upon a very delicate mission, because a great scheme has been thought out to the last details and an unexpected crisis has imperilled its fruition. There have arisen the questions—Who is Germany? What is Germany? Who shall speak for her? Who is there alive to-day who can sign a treaty in her name?”
“These are all matters for statesmen,” Fawley observed. “Very difficult matters for an outsider to deal with.”
Behrling’s tightened lips concealed his irritation. This impenetrable American was getting upon his nerves.
“You are here, I presume, to report upon the situation,” he said. “All that I desire is that you will report upon it fairly. You saw, perhaps, the goose-step march of the weary veterans on their celebration day. What you saw was a true and just allegory. The weariness of those who fainted by the wayside—and there were many—is typical of the weariness of all the things they represent. How much you have seen of my people I do not know, but I make you this offer. I will make over to you one of my most trusted lieutenants and, with the Princess here as your guide, you shall visit the chosen spots of my country. You shall judge for yourself of the new spirit. You will be in a position then to tell those who employ you with whom it would be politic to deal.”
“If you only see half as much as I have seen within the last few weeks,” Elida intervened, “it will be enough.”
“You must please understand this,” Fawley said firmly. “I honestly do not believe that any word I could say would influence Berati or those who stand behind him in the least. He trusts none of his army of spies. He listens to every scrap of information we bring him and he decides for himself.”
“Yes, but the great thing is to see that the spirit of the country is represented to him fairly,” Behrling declared passionately. “Can you not see that? Krust, they tell me, although he is not in favour just now, has been twice received in Rome—once at the Vatican. I know that for a fact.”
“Krust must be received wherever he claims the entrée,” Fawley pointed out. “I suppose he still remains the greatest industrialist in Central Europe.”
“He is also unfortunately the intimate friend of Von Salzenburg and the Crown Prince,” was Behrling’s grim comment. “I am not pleading for myself. I am pleading only for the thousands of Germans who must go once more to their doom if a false note is struck now. They think in Rome that Germany is leaning towards the idea of a monarchy. She is doing nothing of the sort. When these clouds are cleared away, and believe me it will not be long, her programme will be before the world for every one to see. Heart and soul she is nationalist. She is for a reëstablished and almighty Germany. She is for the peace that brains and industry can ensure.”
A note was handed to Behrling. He read it and glanced meaningly at Elida.
“I think that our host would like to speak with some of his friends,” she said. “Will you dance for a few minutes, Major Fawley?”
Fawley looked enquiringly at his host. The latter’s acquiescence was swift.
“I see there two of my party with whom I have affairs,” he said. “Do not leave me without a farewell, Major, or without giving me your decision. Remember,
