A raw north wind swept over the island of Walcheren and the mouth of the West Schelde, ruffling into tiny waves the water of the broad stream, which in the twilight looked like a shoreless sea. Only those acquainted with the ground knew that the flashing lights of the beacons at Flushing on the right and at Fort Frederik Hendrik on the left marked the limits of the wide mouth of the harbour. Here, in 1809, when Holland was under the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte, a powerful English fleet had entered the Schelde to attack Flushing, and take the fortress. In the centre, between the two lights, which were about three miles apart, the German cruiser Gefion lay tossing at anchor. On the deck stood Heideck, who on his return had been promoted to major and appointed to the intelligence department for the coast district of Holland.
In the afternoon he had seen a vessel entering the Schelde, which the pilot had identified as one of the fishing-smacks plying between the Shetland Islands and the Dutch ports. Heideck had informed the captain of the Gefion of his suspicion that the smack might be intended for another purpose than trading in herrings. The little vessel had put in on the left bank, between the villages of Breskens and Kadzand, and Heideck decided to row across to it.
Six marines and four sailors, under the command of a mate, manned one of the Gefion’s boats, and set out for the left bank in the direction of the suspected vessel. It cost the oarsmen, struggling with the tide and wind which came howling from the sea, nearly half an hour’s hard work before they saw the dark hull of the smack emerging clearly outlined before them. A hoarse voice from on board asked what they wanted.
“His Majesty’s service!” answered Heideck, and, as the boat lay to, he threw off his cloak, so as to spring on deck more easily. Three men, in the dark, woollen smock and tarpaulined hat of coast fishermen, approached him and, in answer to his inquiry for the master, told him, in an unintelligible mixture of Dutch and German, that he had gone ashore.
“His name?”
“Maaning Brandelaar.”
“What is the name of this vessel?”
“Bressay.”
The answers were given with hesitation and sullenly, and the three men showed such evident signs of irritation that Heideck felt they would have gladly thrown him overboard had it not been for the respect inspired by his uniform.
“Where from?” he asked.
“From Lerwick.”
“Where to?”
“We are going to sell our herrings. We are respectable people, Herr major.”
“Where are you going to sell your herrings?”
“Where we can. The skipper has gone to Breskens. He intended to be back soon.”
Heideck looked round. The smack had put to in a little bay, where the water was quiet. The village of Breskens and the little watering-place, Kadzand, were both so near that the lighted windows could be seen. It was nine o’clock—rather late for the business which Maaning Brandelaar intended to transact at Breskens.
Heideck sent the marines on deck with orders to see that no one left the ship before the captain returned. He then ordered a lantern to be lighted to examine below. It was a long time before the lantern was ready, and it burned so dully that Heideck preferred to use the electric lamp which he always carried with him as well as his revolver. He climbed down the stairs into the hold and found that the smell of pickled herrings, which he had noticed on deck, was sufficiently explained by the cargo. In the little cabin two men were sitting, drinking grog and smoking short clay pipes. Heideck greeted them courteously and took a seat near them. They spoke English with a broad Scotch accent, and used many peculiar expressions which Heideck did not understand. They declared they were natives of the island of Bressay. Heideck gathered from their conversation that the smack belonged to a shipowner of Rotterdam, whose name they appeared not to know or could not pronounce. They were very guarded and reserved in their statements generally. Heideck waited half an hour, an hour—but still no signs of the captain. He began to feel hungry, and throwing a piece of money on the table, asked whether they could give him anything to eat.
The fishermen opened the cupboard in the wall of the cabin and brought out a large piece of ham, half a loaf of black bread, and a knife and fork. Heideck noticed two small white loaves in the cupboard amongst some glasses and bottles. “Give me some white bread,” said he. The man who had brought out the eatables murmured something unintelligible to Heideck and shut the cupboard again without complying with his request. His behaviour could not help striking Heideck as curious. He had, as a matter of fact, only asked for white bread because the black was old, dry, and uncommonly coarse; but now the suspicion forced itself upon him that there was some special meaning behind the rude and contemptuous manner in which his request had been received.
“You don’t seem to have understood me,” he said. “I should like the white bread.”
“It belongs to the captain,” was the reply; “we mustn’t take it.”
“I will pay for it. Your captain will certainly have no objection.”
The men pretended not to hear.
Heideck repeated his request in a stern and commanding tone. The men looked at each other; then one of them went to the cupboard, took out the white bread, and set it on the table. Heideck cut it and found it very good. He ate heartily of it, wondering at the same time why the men had been so disobliging about it at first. When he took up the bread again to cut himself off a second piece, it occurred to him that it was remarkably heavy. He cut into the middle and, finding that the blade of the knife struck on something hard, he broke the loaf in two. The glitter of gold met his eyes. He investigated further and drew out, one after the other, thirty golden coins with the head of the Queen of England upon them. Thirty pounds sterling had been concealed in the loaf.
“Very nourishing bread of yours,” said he, looking keenly at the men, who merely shrugged their shoulders.
“What has it to do with us how the captain keeps his money?” said one of them.
“You are quite right. What has it to do with you? We will wait till the captain comes. There, put the bread and the money back into the cupboard, and then make a nice glass of grog for my men, the poor fellows will be frozen. Here are three marks for you.”
The men did as they were asked. One of them went upstairs with the smoking jug, bringing it back empty some time afterwards, with the thanks of the Herr major’s men.
A few minutes later one of the soldiers appeared at the cabin door and announced that two men were approaching from land. “Good,” said Heideck; “keep quiet, till they are on deck; then don’t let them go down again, but tell them to come here.”
Almost immediately steps and voices were heard above, and in a few minutes two men entered the cabin. The first, who wore the dress of a skipper, was of unusually powerful build, broad-shouldered, bull-necked, with a square weather-beaten face, from which two crafty little eyes twinkled. The second, considerably younger, was dressed rather foppishly, and wore a beard trimmed in the most modern style.
“Mynheer Brandelaar?” queried Heideck.
“That’s me,” replied the man with the broad shoulders, in a brusque, almost threatening tone.
“Very glad to see you, mynheer. I want to speak to you on a matter of business; I have been waiting for you more than an hour. May I ask you to introduce me to this gentleman?”
The Dutchman was slow in answering. It was evident that he was in a very bad temper and did not quite know what to do. The officer’s quiet, somewhat mocking tone obviously disconcerted him.
He signed to the two sailors to withdraw, then turned to Heideck.
“This gentleman is a business friend. And I should like to know what I and my affairs have got to do with you at all. I am here to sell my herrings. I suppose that isn’t forbidden?”
“Certainly not. But if you have your business, mynheer, I have mine. And I think it would be pleasantest for both of us if we could settle the matter here at once without having to row over to the Gefion.”
“To the Gefion? What’s the meaning of that? What right have you to use force with me? My papers are in order; I can show them to you.”
“I should like to see them. But won’t you be kind enough to tell me this gentleman’s name? It is really of interest to me to make your business friend’s acquaintance.”
The second visitor now thought it advisable to introduce himself.
“My name is Camille Penurot,” said he; “I am a grocer in Breskens. Maaning Brandelaar has offered to sell me his cargo, and I have come with him to inspect the goods.”
“And no doubt night is the best time for that,” rejoined Heideck in a sarcastic tone, but with an imperturbably serious air. “Now let me see your papers, Mynheer Brandelaar.”
Just as he had expected, the papers were in perfect order. The fishing smack Bressay, owner Maximilian van Spranekhuizen of Rotterdam, sailing with a cargo of pickled herrings from Lerwick. Captain, Maaning Brandelaar. Attested by the English harbour officials at Lerwick. Everything perfectly correct.
“Very good,” said Heideck. “Rear-Admiral Sir Frederick Hollway of Dover has not endorsed them, but that was not necessary at all.”
These words, uttered with perfect calmness, had an astounding effect upon the two men. Penurot’s pale face turned almost green; Brandelaar’s hard features were frightfully distorted in a grimace of rage. Half choking in the effort to keep down a furious curse, he drew a deep breath, and said—
“I don’t know any Admiral Hollway, and I have never been in Dover in my life.”
“Well, well! Let us talk about your business—or yours, M. Penurot. Of course the cargo of herrings which you want to buy is not meant to be sold at Breskens, but to some business friend at Antwerp? isn’t it so?”
No answer was given. Heideck, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, turned to the cupboard and, before the others had grasped his intention, took out the second white loaf and broke it in two. This time a folded paper came to light. Heideck spread it out and saw that it was covered with a long list of questions written in English.
“Look here,” said he, “the gentleman who had this paper baked with your breakfast bread must be confoundedly curious. ‘How strong is the garrison of Antwerp? What regiments? What batteries? Who are the commanders of the outer fort? What is the exact plan of the flooded district? How is the population disposed towards the German troops? How many German men-of-war are there in the harbour and in the Schelde? How are they distributed? Exact information as to the number of cannon and crews of all the men-of-war. How many and which ships of the German navigation companies are allotted to the German fleet? How many troops are there on the island of Walcheren? How many in the neighbourhood of Antwerp? How are the troops distributed on both banks of the Schelde? Are troops ready to be put on board the men-of-war and transports? Has a date been settled for that? Is there a plan for employing the German fleet? What is said about the German fleet joining the French?’ That is only a small portion of the long list; but it is quite enough for anyone to guess at the nature of the rest of the questions. What the deuce! Admiral Hollway would like to learn everything for his paltry thirty pounds! or were they only a little on account? I cannot believe, M. Penurot, that your Antwerp correspondent would be willing to sell so much for thirty pounds.”
The two men were clearly overwhelmed by the weight of the unexpected blow. For a moment, when Heideck drew the paper out of the bread, it looked as if Brandelaar would have thrown himself upon him and attempted to tear it from him by force. But the thought of the soldiers probably restrained him opportunely from such an act of folly. He stood where he was with tightly compressed lips and spitefully glistening eyes.
“I don’t understand you, Herr major,” exclaimed Penurot with a visible effort. “I know nothing whatever about this paper. I am an honest business man.”
“And of course, Herr Brandelaar, you had no suspicion of the important stuffing in your white bread? Now, I am not called upon to investigate the matter further. It will be for the court-martial to throw light on the affair.”
The grocer turned as pale as death, and lifted up his hands imploringly.
“Mercy, Herr major, mercy! As true as I live, I am innocent.”
Heideck pretended not to have heard his assertion.
“Further, I must tell you, gentlemen, that you are confoundedly bad men of business, to risk your lives for a miserable thirty pounds. That was an inexcusable folly. If ever you wanted to make money in that way, really you would have done better to work for us. We would pay a man five times as much without haggling, if he would furnish us with really trustworthy information of this kind about the English fleet and army.”
At these words, spoken almost in a jovial tone, a gleam of hope showed itself in the countenance of the two men. The grocer had opened his mouth to reply, when Heideck signed to him to be silent.
“Be so good as to go on deck for a while, Penurot,” said he. “I will call you when I want to continue the conversation. You shall give me your company first, Brandelaar. I should like a few words with you in private.”
The man with the fashionably pointed beard obeyed. Then Heideck turned to the Dutchman—
“This Penurot is the guilty party, isn’t he? As a skipper you have probably never troubled yourself much about politics during your lifetime: you scarcely had a correct idea of the risk you were running. If the court-martial condemns you, you will only have your friend Penurot to thank for it.”
“What you say is quite true, sir,” replied Brandelaar with well-acted simplicity. “I have my cargo to sell for the firm of Van Spranekhuizen, and I don’t care a damn for war or spying. I beg the Herr major to put in a good word for me. I had no suspicion of what was inside the bread.”
“So this Penurot has drawn you into the affair without your knowing it. Did he intend to go with you to Antwerp?”
“I will tell you the whole truth, Herr major! Admiral Hollway at Dover, who is in control of the intelligence department for the Channel and the coast from Cuxhaven to Brest, gave me the two loaves for Camille Penurot. That is all I know of the matter.”
“Was it the first time you had to carry out such commissions for Admiral Hollway?”
“So help me God, the first time!”
“But Penurot was not meant to keep these peculiar loaves for himself? He, like yourself, is only an agent? If you want me to speak for you, you must tell me unreservedly everything you know about it.”
“Penurot has a business friend in Antwerp, as the Herr major has rightly guessed.”
“His name?”
“Eberhard Amelungen.”
“What is he?”
“A wholesale merchant. My cargo is intended for him.”
“And how is he connected with Penurot?”
“I don’t know. Penurot is an agent who does all kinds of business.”
“Oh! and what does the owner, Mynheer van Spranekhuizen, say to your having anything to do with such things as the conveyance of these loaves?”
“Mynheer van Spranekhuizen and Mynheer Amelungen are near relations.”
“In other words, these two gentlemen have agreed to send the Bressay from the Shetlands to Dover, and from Dover to Antwerp.”
“I know nothing about that, Herr major. I have told you everything I know. No vessel can go further up the Schelde than Ternenzen, and I can unload at Breskens just as well as at Ternenzen and send the goods by rail to Antwerp.”
“Now, Brandelaar, go upstairs again and send M. Penurot down to me.”
With heavy tread the skipper mounted the narrow ladder, and almost at once Penurot entered. Heideck, with a wave of his hand, invited him to sit down opposite and began to speak.
“From what I have seen of Brandelaar I am convinced that he is an arrant rascal. It was very imprudent on your part to have anything to do with a man like that. If you are brought before a court-martial, you have him to thank for it.”
“For God’s sake, Herr major—my life isn’t in danger? I implore you, have pity on me!”
“It will matter little whether personally I have pity on you. You will go with me to the Gefion and be brought before a court-martial at Flushing. The fact that you have been Brandelaar’s accomplice cannot be got rid of. He has just now declared definitely that the two loaves were intended for you.”
“For me? That is a vile lie. I have never received a penny from the English.”
“Well—but, without special reasons, a man doesn’t amuse himself by paying a visit to a herring-smack at night. The cargo could have been delivered to Herr Eberhard Amelungen without your inspection.”
“Eberhard Amelungen?”
“Don’t pretend to be so ignorant. Brandelaar has already confessed so much, that you can easily admit the rest. Amelungen and Van Spranekhuizen are in a conspiracy to carry on a regular system of espionage in the interests of England. You are used as an agent, and Maaning Brandelaar is trying to get out of it by sacrificing you.”
“So it seems, really. But I am quite innocent, Herr major. I know nothing of all that. The last time Brandelaar left the Schelde, he came to see me here in Breskens and told me that he would soon be back again and that it would be a good business for me.”
“When did that happen?”
“Three weeks ago. I had no reason to distrust Brandelaar, since he had often supplied goods for Amelungen.”
“But why did you come on board to-day?”
“Brandelaar wanted it. He said I could look at the cargo and discuss whether it should be unloaded here or at Ternenzen.”
“Now, M. Penurot, I will tell you something. You will go with me to Antwerp, where I will call on Herr Amelungen and convince myself whether you are really as innocent as you say, and as I shall be glad to believe you are for the present.”
The grocer appeared to be getting still more uneasy.
“But you won’t take me before the court-martial?”
“That remains to be seen. I can promise you nothing. Everything will depend on the information which Herr Amelungen gives me about you, and on your future behaviour. I will now have Brandelaar down again, and you will remain silent while I speak to him.”
“Of course, I will do everything the Herr major tells me.”
Brandelaar having been summoned to the cabin, Heideck addressed him as follows:—
“Listen to me, Maaning Brandelaar. I know everything, and I need not tell you that it is more than enough to put your neck in danger according to martial law. But I will show you a way to save yourself. Go to-morrow to Ternenzen and wait there till you hear from me. I will make it easy for you to execute your commission; I will write the answers to Admiral Hollway’s questions myself. You can then take them to Dover to your customer. But at the same time I will give you a number of questions, to which you will bring me trustworthy answers at Flushing. If you carry out this mission to my satisfaction, I will pay you 3,000 marks on your return. As you will also have your fee from the Admiral, you will make a very good thing out of it. But beware of attempting to betray me; it would turn out an extremely bad job for you. I know where I can catch you, and you would be imprisoned as soon as you showed yourself anywhere on the Dutch coast. So you had better think it over carefully.”
The skipper’s broad countenance had gradually brightened, and at these words a cunning grin overspread his features.
“Three thousand marks! If that’s a bargain, Herr major, you can count upon my serving you honourably.”
“Perhaps it isn’t so much a matter of your honour as of your cleverness. Unless the information you bring me corresponds with my expectations, of course the payment will suffer accordingly. The price depends upon the quality of the goods.”
“Oh, you will be satisfied with me. I have connexions over there, and if you want anything else, you shall see what Brandelaar can do.”
“Good! It will be to your own interest to serve me well and faithfully.”
Suddenly the skipper again looked thoughtful.
“There is still one thing that troubles me, Herr major.”
“What is that?”
“My men have seen an officer and soldiers visit my ship. Suppose they talk about it over in England and the Admiral should suspect me?”
“He will have no reason to do so, if he is convinced that your information is correct. He will have other sources of information besides yourself, and if he finds your statements confirmed, he will have complete confidence in you.”
These words did not allay Maaning Brandelaar’s uneasiness.
“Yes, but—you don’t mean to give me correct information?”
“Certainly I do. Everything I write for you will be perfectly correct.”
This reply was clearly too much for the skipper to understand. He stared in speechless amazement at Heideck, who proceeded quietly—
“The Admiral wants to know the strength of the German army at Antwerp, and I will tell you the condition of affairs. We have 120,000 men in Holland and the small portion of Belgian territory which we have occupied round Antwerp. In the fortress itself there are 30,000 men; on the island of Walcheren only 5,000, in occupation of Flushing and other important points. These are entirely trustworthy facts.”
The Captain shook his head.
“If it were not disrespectful, I should think you were making a fool of me.”
“No, my friend, I have no reason to do so; you can go bail for everything I write, and your fee will be honourably earned. It would be somewhat different with the news you might take over to the Admiral on your own responsibility.”
Brandelaar nodded.
“I understand, Herr major, and I will act accordingly. But I must certainly get a fresh crew; these men know too much; that is bad, and they might make it unpleasant for me.”
“No, no, that would be quite a mistake. Keep your men and make no fuss. When I get to Ternenzen, I will have you and the crew arrested. You will be examined by me and in a few days set at liberty.”
The skipper did not seem to relish this prospect.
“But suppose you should change your mind in the meantime, and take me before the court-martial?”
“You may confidently trust my word. It will only be a sham examination to prevent your men getting unprofitable ideas into their heads and betraying anything which might arouse suspicion across the water. On the contrary, it will look as if you had had to endure all kinds of dangers and disappointments; and if my estimate of you is correct, my worthy Brandelaar, you will not lose the opportunity of extracting an extra fee from the Admiral to make up for the anxiety you have suffered.”
When Heideck and his prisoner, Penurot, reached the Gefion he found the Commander on deck, notwithstanding the lateness of the hour. He reported himself, and asked him to treat Penurot as a guest.
“I was getting anxious about you,” said the Captain, “and was on the point of sending the steam pinnace after you. Have you found out anything important?”
“I believe I have. The two rascals whom I caught there don’t seem to belong to the ordinary class of spies. They are the skipper Brandelaar and the man I have brought with me.”
“Didn’t you arrest the skipper as well?”
“I intend to use them in our interest, and hope that Admiral Hollway will find himself caught in his own net.”
“Isn’t that rather a risky game? If the fellows have betrayed Admiral Hollway, you may rely upon it they will do the same by us.”
“I trust to their fears and selfishness more than their honour. To take information about us to the English they must return here again, and so I hold them in my hand.”
“But the converse is true. I confess I have very little faith in such double-dealing spies.”
“Of course, I feel the same; but I believe I have at last found the way to the headquarters of the English system of espionage. In order to get to the bottom of the matter I cannot do without the aid of the two spies.”
“The headquarters?”
“Yes. The underlings who risk their lives are always of subordinate importance. It is, above all, necessary to find out the persons of higher rank who prudently contrive to keep themselves in the background.”
“I wish you success.”
“Before going to Antwerp, whither M. Penurot is to accompany me to-morrow, I should like to make a report to the Imperial Chancellor. May I ask you to let me have a boat to-morrow morning to go to Flushing?”
“Certainly. You can have any boat you like.”
“Then I should like the steam pinnace.”
“Perhaps you know whether the Chancellor intends to stay long at Flushing?”
“I cannot say. In many ways Antwerp would certainly be a better place; but he has gone to Flushing to make a demonstration.”
“To make a demonstration?” repeated the Commander in a tone of astonishment.
“The English, of course, know that he is there, and his presence at Flushing is bound to strengthen their belief that our main base of operations will be the mouth of the Schelde.”
“Is it not surprising that our Chancellor is always at the centre of operations, though he is neither a general nor an admiral?”
“We have seen the same before in the case of Bismarck. If we follow the history of the wars of 1864, 1866, and 1870-71 we get the impression that Bismarck was in like manner the soul of all the operations, although his military title was only an honorary one.”
“That is true; but the circumstances are essentially different. Bismarck was a trained official, diplomatist, ambassador, before he became Chancellor. His authority was great in military matters, independently of the generals; but our new Chancellor comes from quite a different sphere.”
“But he has the power of a strong personality, and it is that which turns the scale in all great matters. The fine instinct of the people feels that the Emperor has chosen rightly, and the Chancellor’s general popularity insures him powerful support even against the generals. Besides, everyone must admire his practical understanding and his wide range of vision. Is not the occupation of Antwerp a fresh proof of it? The rest of Belgium is occupied by the French army, but the Chancellor has arranged with the French Government for us to hold Antwerp, since our fleet is in the Schelde. And I am sure we shall never give it up again.”
The Commander shook his head doubtfully.
“You really think we shall be able to keep Antwerp without further trouble?”
“We must, and shall, have Antwerp. Belgium and the Netherlands may continue to exist, for we cannot with any justification annex them. But the Netherlands and Antwerp will enter into closer political relations with the German Empire for the sake of their own interests. Their Governments are too weak to put down revolutionary movements in their countries for any length of time. We are moving irresistibly towards the formation of larger states. The fact that war in its attendant manifestations is a means of promoting the union of peoples seems to me to some extent to mitigate its cruelty.”
“That sounds very fanciful, Herr major,” said the Captain, turning the conversation. “But what sort of information do you propose to send by your agents to Dover?”
“I propose to confirm the Admiral in the idea that we intend to leave the Schelde with the fleet and a number of our private companies’ steamers, and, with the support of the French fleet, to throw an army across to Dover.”
“I am surprised that the English have not even attempted to force our positions. One is almost tempted to believe that the English navy is as inefficient as the English army. If our enemies felt strong enough, they would have appeared long ago before Brest, Cherbourg, Flushing, Wilhelmshaven, or Kiel. Heligoland could not stop a fleet of ironclads from forcing its way into the Elbe; it ought rather to be a welcome object of attack for the English fleet. If I were in command, I should set out against Heligoland with the older ironclads—Albion, Glory, Canopus, Coliath, Ocean, and Vengeance. The little island could hardly resist these six battleships for long, and the German North Sea fleet—supposing one to exist—would be obliged to come out from Wilhelmshaven to save its honour.”
“The reason they do nothing of the sort is not so much the consciousness of their own weakness, as the fact that they have no one whose genius would be equal to the situation. Certainly, they have several capable admirals, but there is no Nelson among them. Perhaps our war also would have remained in abeyance, had not the Emperor discovered in our new Chancellor the genius needed by the times. The wars against Denmark, Austria, and France would hardly have taken place without Bismarck’s initiative. Even under a most wretched government which commits the grossest blunders great states can exist for a long time; but advancement, real progress is only possible through the intervention of a strong personality.”
“I am not quite of your opinion. I am convinced that it is economic conditions that from time to time force on great revolutions. Do you think, for instance, that the Russians would have conquered India if the economic conditions of the natives had been better?”
“Certainly not. Even a great man must have the soil prepared on which to prove his strength. And I think that our Chancellor has appeared on the scene just at the right moment.”
Heideck took leave of the Commander and retired to his cabin to draw up a report and take a well-deserved rest.
When he sent for M. Camille Penurot on the following morning, he found a striking alteration in him. That foppish gentleman no longer showed the dejection of the day before, his dark eyes were bright and full of confidence. By daylight, Heideck saw that his captive was a good-looking man about thirty years of age, more like a Spaniard than a Netherlander.
He bowed politely to Heideck and then asked, with a certain amount of confidence, “Pardon me, Herr major, if I serve the German Empire well, may I count on an adequate reward?”
“I have already told you, M. Penurot, that we are prepared to pay more than the English.”
“Oh, that was not what I meant. You mustn’t class me with Maaning Brandelaar and people of that sort.”
Heideck smiled.
“Will you be good enough to tell me, then, M. Penurot, with whom I am to class you?”
“I am willing from this moment to devote all my energies to the cause of the allies.”
“Granted. But what are your wishes in the matter of reward?”
“I should like you to use your influence to obtain me the honour of an order.”
Heideck was unable to conceal his astonishment at this strange request.
“Such distinctions are, as a rule, only given in Germany for acts of bravery or for services which cannot be adequately requited in hard cash.”
“What I am willing to do requires bravery.”
“You are only going to help me to find out the spies in Antwerp.”
“But they are dangerous people to make enemies of—people whose tools would be capable of anything.”
“Rest assured, M. Penurot, that your reward will correspond with the services rendered. You know that I have no order to bestow, and besides, I do not quite understand of what importance a decoration can be to you.”
“You rate my sense of honour too low, Herr major! But in order that you may understand me, I will tell you a secret. I am in love with a lady of very good family, and her people would be more ready to welcome me, if I had an order.”
“Then you have fixed your affections very high, I suppose?”
“That’s as one takes it. In the matter of birth, I am in that painful situation which is the inheritance of all children born out of wedlock. My mother was a Spanish dancer, my father is the wealthy Amelungen. He is fond of me and provides for me. It was he who bought the business in Breskens for me. But his wife, who is English, has no liking for me.”
“I understand you even less than before. If you have such resources at your disposal, why on earth do you mix yourself up in such dangerous undertakings?”
“Herr Amelungen wished it.”
“So, then, he really is the guilty party?”
“For God’s sake, Herr major, you won’t abuse my confidence. I should never forgive myself if anything I said were to harm Herr Amelungen.”
“Do not be unnecessarily anxious. Nothing will happen either to you or to Herr Amelungen, if you can induce him to change sides and help us for the future instead of the English.”
Penurot hung down his head and remained silent.
“And how about Herr van Spranekhuizen in Rotterdam?” continued Heideck. “Of course he belongs to the league.”
“He is my father’s brother-in-law. His wife is an Amelungen.”
“And what is the real reason why these two gentlemen, who I hear are wealthy merchants, have undertaken to act as spies for England?”
“Oh, there is nothing so wonderful in that, Herr major. France has occupied Belgium, Germany the Netherlands. Of course they are very bitter about it.”
“That may be. But well-to-do merchants are not in the habit of risking their lives out of pure patriotism in such circumstances. As a rule, only those people do that who have little to lose.”
“I have already told you that my father’s wife is English. For love of her he does a great deal which certainly nothing else would induce him to do.”
At this moment Heideck, being informed that the pinnace was ready, requested Penurot to accompany him on board. In the harbour of Flushing he took leave of him for a while, with instructions to call upon him in an hour at his office, having told him exactly where it was. He had no fear that Penurot would attempt flight. He felt absolutely sure of this gentleman.
On arriving at his office close to the Duke of Wellington Hotel, Heideck found his staff extremely busy. One lieutenant was looking through the French and German newspapers for important information; another was studying the Russian and English journals. The last were few in number and not of recent date, limited to those which had been smuggled across from England by daring skippers and fishermen. There were several despatches from St. Petersburg, containing news of fresh victories in India.
The Russian army had pushed on to Lucknow without any further engagement worth mentioning having taken place since the battle of Delhi. It seemed as if the English were for the time unwilling to meet the enemy in the open field. They apparently calculated that the heat and the enormous length of their line of communication would prevent the Russians from reaching the southern provinces in sufficient strength to overcome an energetic resistance there. But Heideck no longer believed in the possibility of such a resistance, concluding from the announcement of a stream of reinforcements arriving through the Khyber Pass that all the Russian losses would be speedily made up. In his opinion, practically the only thing left for the English was to embark the remnants of their army at Calcutta, Madras, and Bombay, and to get a portion at least of their beaten forces safely out of India.
While he was in his office, despatches were continually arriving from Wilhelmshaven, Kiel, Brest, and Cherbourg. The intelligence department of the entire north coast was under Heideck’s control.
Except for isolated naval engagements, the strategic position had, on the whole, remained unaltered for months. Both sides hesitated to risk a decisive battle. The English fleets did not venture to attack the enemy’s harbours; the combined squadrons of the continental Powers seemed no more inclined to try their fortune on the open sea. Each was endeavouring to get in touch with the other, waiting for the favourable moment when his adversary’s weakness might offer the prospect of successful action.
“The risks these dwellers on the coast run are astonishing,” said one of Heideck’s staff. “They cross the Channel in their fishing-boats and slip by the warships. The man who brought the last English papers told me that he passed close by them to give the impression that there was nothing wrong. It needed considerable courage to risk that.”
“But the enemy’s spies are equally efficient. Yesterday, more by accident than any merit of my own, I caught a herring fisher in the mouth of the Schelde who was in English pay; I think I have hit on an apparently important clue, which I intend to follow up in Antwerp, after reporting myself to the Chancellor.”
“He is no longer in Flushing. He has left for Antwerp with the Minister for War and the chief of the General Staff; I am told he has matters of importance to arrange with the chief of the French General Staff.”
“Have you heard anything more definite as to the nature of these matters?”
“Only that the question of further mobilisation is to be discussed. Apparently, however, the six army corps, which we now have on a war footing, are thought to be enough on our side. We are not waging war by land; why then should the burden of a further mobilisation be imposed upon the people?”
“Certainly, the sacrifices entailed by this war are enormous without that; trade and industry are completely ruined.”
“The only gainer by this universal conflagration is America. Since the war broke out, the United States has supplied England with everything she used to get from the Continent.”
“Well, it will all come right in the end. Now, as there seems nothing urgent for me to do here, it is time I went to Antwerp.”
. . . . . . .
Eberhard Amelungen was unable to conceal his confusion, when an officer in the uniform of the Prussian General Staff appeared at the door of his private office.
Amelungen was a man about sixty years of age, a typical specimen of a substantial, respectable merchant.
“I am somewhat surprised, sir,” he said in measured tones. “What can I do for you?”
Heideck introduced himself, and without wasting words told him the reason of his visit.
“I have reason to believe, Herr Amelungen, that you hold in your hands some, if not all, of the chief meshes of a widespread net of espionage. And I think it would be to your interest to tell me the whole truth of your own accord. We know so much already that presumably it will be of little use to you to have recourse to lies.”
Amelungen played with his penholder, but his hands trembled visibly, and words failed him. His face had turned ashy pale, and Heideck could not help feeling sorry for him.
“I regret that my duty obliges me to proceed against you,” he continued. “I can easily understand your motives. You are a Netherlander and a patriot, and, as perhaps you do not quite understand the political situation, the occupation of your country by a foreign power appears to you an act of violence, which fills you with anger and hatred against us. Therefore I think I may promise you that you will be treated as leniently as possible, if you make my task easy by an open confession.”
Eberhard Amelungen shook his head.
“I know nothing of what you charge me with,” he said feebly. “You have the power, and can do as you please with me. But I have nothing to confess.”
“Not if I tell you that my information comes from the mouth of your own son?”
The merchant stared at the speaker with wide-open eyes full of anxiety.
“From the mouth of my own son? But—I have no son.”
“Then M. Camille Penurot also was lying when he said you were his father?”
“For God’s sake be merciful! Don’t torture me! What is the matter with Camille? Where is he?”
“He has been caught spying. What will happen to him depends on your own behaviour.”
Eberhard Amelungen sank back in his stool in a state of collapse.
“My God! you don’t mean to put him in prison? or to shoot him?”
“As you may imagine, his fate is not in my hands alone. But in this instance my influence may perhaps be considerable, and it would certainly have weight if I threw it into the scale in your favour and his. Therefore I again ask you to consider whether, as things are, it would not be best for you to be perfectly frank with me. Those who are behind you can no longer protect you, and your only hope lies in the leniency of the German authorities. Do not reject the possibility of securing this leniency.”
The merchant was evidently carrying on a severe struggle with himself. After a few moments he raised his head, and in an altered, defiant tone replied—
“Do what you like with me, I have nothing to confess.”
Heideck then assumed a sterner, official demeanour.
“Then you must not complain if I begin to search your house.”
“Do as you think fit. The victor can take what liberties he pleases.”
Heideck opened the door and summoned two of the Berlin criminal police, who at his request had been ordered to Antwerp on this affair with a large number of policemen. Certainly he felt sure in advance that they would find nothing, for Eberhard Amelungen would have been very foolish not to have reckoned long ago on the possibility of such a visit, and to have taken precautions accordingly. The Major, in bringing the police with him, had thought more of the moral impression of the whole procedure. His knowledge of men told him that it had its effect.
“One thing more, Herr Amelungen,” said he. “About the same time as the search begins here, another will take place in your private house. I expect the report of those entrusted with it at any moment.”
Amelungen breathed hard. He looked nervously at Heideck, as if trying to read his thoughts. Then, after a brief struggle with himself, he whispered—
“Send these men out, Herr major! I should like to speak to you privately.”
When Heideck had complied with his request, Amelungen continued, speaking hastily, and bringing out his words with difficulty: “In me you see a man who deserves compassion, a man who has been, entirely against his will and inclination, compromised. If anyone is guilty in this matter, it is my brother-in-law Van Spranekhuizen and a lady correspondent of my wife in Brussels. Occasionally I have acted as agent, when it was a matter of forwarding letters, or of handing over sums of money to the Countess—to the lady; but I have never personally taken any part in the matters in question.”
“That statement is not enough for me. I do not doubt the truth of what you say, but I must be informed of all the details before I can drop further proceedings against you. Who is the lady you speak of?”
“A former maid of honour to the late Queen.”
“Her name?”
“Countess Clementine Arselaarts.”
“How did you come to know her?”
“She is a friend of my wife, who made her acquaintance last year when staying in Brussels.”
“And your wife is English?”
“Yes; her maiden name was Irwin.”
At the sound of this name a flood of painful recollections rushed over Heideck’s mind.
“Irwin?” he repeated. “Has the lady by chance any relatives in the British army?”
“I had a brother-in-law, who was a captain in the Indian Lancers. But, according to the news that has reached us, he was killed at the battle of Lahore.”
The Major found it hard to control his excitement, but as if he had already allowed himself to be too long diverted from his duty, he hastily returned to the real subject of his examination.
“You said that you have handed over certain sums of money to Countess Arselaarts. By whose order? and on whose account?”
“On account of the English Government and on the order of an English banking house with which I have had business dealings for many years.”
“Were the sums large?”
“Latterly, on an average about 10,000 francs a month.”
“And how were they paid?”
“Sometimes I sent the amount in cash, often by cheque on Brussels banks.”
“Have you any evidence on the point—a receipt signed by the Countess?”
Amelungen hesitated.
“I strongly advise you to keep nothing back from me. So much is at stake for you and your relatives who are involved in this affair that it is of the utmost consequence that you should secure lenient treatment by a frank confession.”
“Well, then, I have some receipts.”
“Please let me see them.”
Amelungen pulled open a drawer in his writing-table, pressed a spring, and a secret compartment at the back flew open.
“There they are!” said he, handing a small bundle of sheets of paper to Heideck. But the Major’s keen eye had noticed, as he glanced rapidly at the compartment, that it contained some other papers, which he politely but firmly demanded to see.
“They are private letters of no importance,” objected Amelungen, “some of my wife’s correspondence, which she accidentally left in my office. I don’t know what they are about myself.”
“Be assured that harmless private correspondence will not be abused. But I must claim the absolute right to convince myself of the correctness of your assertions by examining them.”
The merchant could see that there was no chance of getting out of it, and, visibly excited, handed the little roll over to Heideck.
The Major took it, without examining the contents more closely at once.
“You definitely assure me, Herr Amelungen, that you have nothing else referring to this matter?”
“Nothing! I give you my word, Herr major.”
Heideck got up.
“I charge you not to attempt to leave the town or in any other way evade the German authorities. You will guarantee this not only as regards yourself, but also as regards your wife; and you will further promise me to break off at once all relations with the persons involved in this espionage affair, unless at our order, or in agreement with us.”
Eberhard Amelungen, whose powers of resistance seemed completely broken in this painful hour, nodded assent.
“I promise both, Herr major!”
Heideck, having left a criminal official with instructions to keep watch, repaired without delay to the office of Lieutenant-Colonel Nollenberg, head of the intelligence department for Antwerp. He informed him of the result of his conversation and examined the confiscated papers in his presence.
A large number were letters from the Countess Clementine Arselaarts to Frau Beatrix Amelungen, and their contents were harmless, with the exception of a few expressions advising watchfulness and despatch.
But in a special envelope, sealed several times, there was a sheet of paper, covered with close writing, which could not be read offhand, since the letters were apparently jumbled together quite arbitrarily and irregularly.
“A cipher!” said Heideck. “But we shall soon get to the bottom of it. You have some capable interpreters at your disposal, and it might be a good thing if they set to work at once.”
He continued his examination, and suddenly the blood rushed to his face, for in his hands he held a letter, the handwriting of which he recognised at the first glance as Edith’s. Its contents were as follows:—
“DEAR BEATRICE,—As you see, I am again in England. You know that I have returned a widow, and you can believe that my experiences have been terrible. Your brother met an honourable death at Lahore; with the utmost difficulty I myself succeeded in getting away from India under the protection of Attorney-General Kennedy and his family. I should have to fill a book if I were to tell you all the horrors of our journey. But this is not the proper time to complain of the melancholy lot of an individual. We are all strangers and pilgrims on earth, and must bear the cross that is laid upon us.
“The immediate reason of my writing to-day is that I want your opinion on a certain matter. When I arrived at my parents’ house, I heard that uncle Godfrey had died on the 16th of April. I do not know whether you have already heard of this, as regular communication with the Continent is interrupted. My uncle Godfrey has left a will, dividing his property equally between you as his niece and my deceased husband. His property was larger than my husband thought. After division, both you and my husband would have had a yearly income of 5,000 pounds. Now your brother has died without having disposed of his property. But my lawyer tells me that, as his sole heiress, I can claim his share of the inheritance. To arrange about this I have come here to Dover; for I found that I could only get the letter forwarded to Antwerp with the assistance of Admiral Hollway, who is charged with the protection of our coast. To my surprise the Admiral informed me that your name was known to him, and he willingly undertook to forward this letter to you. Now please consent to uncle Godfrey’s property being divided between you and me. I do not believe you will have any objection, but I consider it a duty to obtain your definite consent. I shall be glad to hear from you that you are well.
“Yours truly,
“EDITH IRWIN.
“P.S.—In India I made the acquaintance of a German officer who rendered me great service during the terrible times of the war and saved my life more than once. He travelled with the Kennedys and myself on the Caledonia to Naples. From there he went on to Berlin, while we continued our voyage on a man-of-war through the Straits of Gibraltar to Southampton. This officer is a Captain Heideck of the Prussian General Staff. I should be thankful to you if you would find out where he is at present. I am very anxious to know his address. For a time I am staying in Dover. Letters addressed to Mrs. Jones, 7, St. Paul’s Street, will reach me.”
The perusal of this letter revived a crowd of painful recollections in Heideck’s mind. He never doubted for a moment that the postscript, in which his name occurred, explained Edith’s real object in writing. All the rest was certainly a mere pretext; for he knew how indifferent Edith was in regard to money matters, and was convinced that she was in no such hurry about the settlement of the inheritance as might have been thought from her letter.
The Lieutenant-Colonel approached him at this moment.
“It has taken less time to decipher the document than I had ventured to hope,” said he. “I have telegraphed at once to the police at Schleswig to arrest the writer, one Brodersen, without delay. Please convince yourself what sort of friends we have amongst the Danes.”
Heideck read as follows:—
“In the harbour of Kiel, the larger warships are the battleships Oldenburg, Baden, Wurttemberg, Bayern, Sachsen; the large cruisers Kaiser, Deutschland, Konig Wilhelm; the small cruisers Gazelle, Prinzess Wilhelm, Irene, Komet, and Meteor, with the torpedo division boats D 5 and D 6 with their divisions. In addition, there are about 100 large and small steamers of the North-German Lloyd, the Hamburg-America Line, the Stettin Company, and others. All the large steamers are equipped with quick-firing cannon and machine-guns; the small, only with machine-guns. In the neighbourhood of Kiel there are 50,000 infantry and artillery from Hanover, Mecklenburg, Pomerania, and the province of Saxony, with only two regiments of hussars. My friends’ opinions differ as to the plans of the German Government. Possibly ships of the line will proceed through the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal and make a combined attack with the Russian fleet on the British near Copenhagen.
“It is most probable that the fleet of transports will take on board the army collected at Kiel and convey it through the Kaiser Wilhelm Canal into the North Sea, where the German battleships now at Antwerp will join the French squadrons from Cherbourg. An attempt would then be made, under cover of the warships, to land the German army and the French troops from Boulogne at Dover, or some place near on the English coast.
“I acknowledge the receipt of 10,000 francs from Mynheer van Spranekhuizen, but must ask you to send a further sum twice that amount. My agents are risking their lives, and will not work for less.”
“You, too, my dear Brodersen, have risked your life,” said the Lieutenant-Colonel seriously. “I should not like to give much for it at the present moment.”
“These notes are very instructive,” observed Heideck. “If we strengthen Admiral Hollway in the belief that we intend to land the German troops in England from Antwerp and not from Kiel, our fleet of transports at Kiel will be able to cross the North Sea all the more safely and effect the landing in Scotland.”
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