The Yellow Dove

“Those were my orders. How do I know that they were obeyed?”

“One doesn’t disobey orders, Excellenz, with one’s head in a noose.”

“H—m. There are many necks in nooses at Windenberg. And one of the nooses will be tightened.”

He had stopped before Rizzio and was scowling at him with eyes that shot malevolence. Rizzio knew something of von Stromberg’s methods and was sure that he was merely trying to intimidate him, to reduce him to a consistency which would reveal hidden weaknesses in texture; yet, knowing this, Rizzio felt most uncomfortable. He twirled his mustache and looked out of the window, but his glance came back to von Stromberg’s eyes, which never wavered or changed in intensity, as though under the influence of some strange hypnotic attraction.

“You know, of course,” the old man’s harsh voice snapped at him, “what Herr Hammersley accuses you of?”

“I can imagine, Excellenz.”

“He says that you have been acting for the English Government.”

Rizzio started up in alarm.

“You do not for a moment believe–”

“Don’t get excited. I believe nothing—which I do not wish to believe. But he tells a very pretty story, Herr Rizzio.”

“He would,” said Rizzio easily. “I will do him the credit of saying that he is skillful. But a lie will discover itself in the end.”

“Exactly. I am glad you agree with me. What I now propose to do is to set the lie in motion. The easiest way to provoke a liar is to put him upon the defensive. You and Hammersley shall debate the matter. I shall be the judge of the debate. We shall see what we shall see.”

He strode to the table and was about to touch the bell when Rizzio broke in.

“One moment, Excellenz. I should like to know on what he bases his accusation.”

“Humph! Not weakening, Rizzio?”

“Hardly, Excellenz,” the other smiled. “It will not be difficult for me to verify my statements if Hammersley will only talk.”

“You need not fear. He will talk.”

“What I wanted to know, Excellenz, was the nature of the information received in the yellow packet. Would you permit–?”

“Not yet, Herr Rizzio, not yet. The contents of the message will come in time. For the present there is quite enough to occupy Herr Hammersley’s mind—and yours.”

Rizzio shrugged. “As you please. I would like to know, however, before you summon him, whether his accusation is based on my attempt upon his life.”

Von Stromberg chuckled. “Is not that enough to prejudice a man—if he were honest?”

“Yes, if he were honest,” said Rizzio. “Did he have any authority for his belief?”

“Yes, Herr Rizzio,” said the General, fixing Rizzio with his stare. “He told me that Maxwell had learned it from Byfield.”

“Byfield!” Rizzio started forward quickly. “Hammersley is a fool. Have I not told Excellenz that Byfield knew nothing whatever of my connection with the affair?”

Von Stromberg stretched his long arms impatiently.

“Herr Maxwell, unfortunately, is silent. Captain Byfield is in a position where the only questions that can be put to him will be those at the Gates of Heaven by his Maker.”

He gave the bell on the table a resounding blow and grinned mischievously at Rizzio.

“You say that Herr Hammersley is a fool. He asserts that you are one. I shall now smoke a cigar and decide for myself which of you is correct.”

And, as the soldier entered, “Tell Herr Hammersley that I wish to see him here at once.”

“I can only say, Excellenz,” said Rizzio, when the man went out, “that I am willing to abide by your verdict.”

“Even though it should be unfavorable to yourself?” growled von Stromberg.

“That, Excellenz, is quite impossible.”

“I have known stranger things to happen. The worst aspect of your case is that Herr Hammersley is here. There was no need for him to come. You yourself admit that. He had only to stay in England to devote his talents to a more congenial occupation.” Von Stromberg puffed on his cigar and leaned across the table. “Can you tell me why Herr Hammersley came to Germany? Answer me correctly, Rizzio, and I will give you every masterpiece in Belgium.”

Rizzio frowned into the fire.

“I cannot say,” he replied. “I have admitted that he has puzzled me. I can only think of one thing. Hammersley is a type of man who under the guise of inefficiency does all things well. He is a sportsman. He would do such a thing for the love of adventure, because the danger, the excitement, appealed to him—because it was the ‘sporting thing.’”

“A reason, Rizzio,” muttered von Stromberg, “but not the real reason.”

Rizzio started and a smile broke at the corners of his lips.

“Oh! You realize, then, that there is something else—something–?” He paused.

“I realize nothing,” growled the General. “Realization, Rizzio, is the one banality of existence! Uncertainty is the only thing worth while. When one is certain of anything it ceases to be interesting. That is why Herr Hammersley, whom you call a fool in one breath and a genius in the next, excites my profound attention. Come, I think you will agree with me that he is worth it.”

“I do not like Hammersley, Excellenz.”

“Natürlich! But that need not prevent your interest in him, even though your interest is largely in his death.”

The phrase was significant, delivered significantly, and in spite of himself Rizzio felt the gaze of the General piercing his veneer.

“I could feel no happiness in such a misfortune,” he said gravely, “notwithstanding my dislike of him.”

A knock at the door interrupted further conversation and, at a command from the General, Hammersley entered.

CHAPTER XV

THE INQUISITION

If General von Stromberg had counted upon playing a trump card in producing Rizzio at this interview, Herr Hammersley’s demeanor must have disappointed him. For he entered the room with cheerful composure, noted Rizzio, stared at him in sudden seriousness, and then turned to von Stromberg with the air of a man briskly intent.

“You wanted to see me, Excellenz?” he asked quietly.

He had evinced a mild surprise at Rizzio’s presence, but no discomposure. If anything, his manner now had a kind of sober eagerness as at the imminence of an issue in which a necessary if painful duty must be performed.

General von Stromberg from his armchair regarded him through a cloud of tobacco smoke.

“Yes, Herr Hammersley,” said von Stromberg. “As you will observe, Herr Rizzio has just arrived from England. He followed you almost immediately upon his yacht. It is most fortunate that he is here, for there are several matters which we can discuss in privacy together.”

“I am at your service, Excellenz,” said Hammersley. “If there are any facts which I can add to my report I shall be glad.”

His idiom was Hanoverian. Rizzio, quite cool, faced him, upright, with folded arms.

“To begin with, meine Herren, we will sit. To stand is the attitude of discomposure. One thinks more calmly sitting down. You have my permission. So—Now we will proceed. I will outline in the briefest words the situation. Herr Hammersley, an agent of the Secret Service Department of the Imperial Government, is intrusted with the receipt and delivery of certain secret messages. He receives them, but is requested by Herr Rizzio, also an agent of the Secret Service Department of the Imperial Government, on authority of indubitable credentials, to relinquish the message to Herr Rizzio. It is not necessary to state the reasons of the Imperial Secret Service Department in desiring the transfer of this message. It is sufficient that Herr Hammersley refused to obey the orders. He has given explanations which, on their face, seem adequate. Upon the side of Herr Rizzio it may be said that, failing in his object, he came to a certain conclusion most unflattering to the loyalty of Herr Hammersley. We will now proceed in orderly fashion to hear the cause of Herr Hammersley’s refusal and the subsequent acts of Herr Rizzio which have created so great a misunderstanding. Herr Hammersley, bitte, you will tell us the facts as you have related them.”

“I learned from Herr Maxwell that Herr Rizzio was playing a double game. Captain Byfield had furnished him with full proofs of it, one of which was a letter he had seen from Herr Rizzio to a military officer high in the councils of the War Office. This was an additional reason, Excellenz, why Herr Maxwell arranged with Captain Byfield that the cigarette papers should be delivered to me.”

Rizzio leaned quickly forward, his face dark with passion. “Excellenz,” he began, “that could not possibly be true. The real reason for the delivery of the message to Herr Hammersley Excellenz well knows. And Herr Maxwell would hardly send men to follow Herr Hammersley at my request if he disbelieved in my loyalty.”

“Quite so. He would not and did not,” said Hammersley. “The men were not Herr Maxwell’s. They were men of Scotland Yard. It is quite obvious by the way they bungled matters.”

The General smiled delightedly. It was the sort of joke he liked. “That is one point in your favor, Hammersley.”

Rizzio shrugged.

“Excellenz well knows,” he said, “why those men were sent. They had instructions to get the papers for Maxwell.”

“That is strange,” said Hammersley. “If Maxwell had asked me personally for the papers, I should have given them to him. Maxwell would have known better than to intrust those papers to a third person. It is not likely that I should have given them up to any man, even if Maxwell had sent him.”

“It is unfortunate that Herr Maxwell is not here to–”

“One moment, Herr Rizzio,” broke in the General. Then to Hammersley, “What was the nature of the letter which you say was sent by Herr Rizzio to a high official of the War Office?”

“It was a statement in regard to the case of Carl Hüber, who, as you know, was shot last week in the Tower of London.”

“Ach!” Von Stromberg frowned. “We are killing our evidence too fast, mein herr, a little too fast for convenience. Bitte, we will kill no more German agents in the Tower until they have had an opportunity to testify.”

Hammersley smiled.

“Unfortunately, Excellenz, I have no means of restoring him to life,” he said. “He was an excellent man, and leaves, I believe, a wife and six children.”

Von Stromberg tapped his fingers slowly.

“We will go on, if you please, with the discussion of the general facts. You claim that Herr Maxwell, distrusting Rizzio, arranged that the papers should be handed from Captain Byfield to you. I have told you that Maxwell had orders from me to put you to this test?”

“Pardon, Excellenz. I did not know that at the time. I only know that Herr Maxwell chose to disregard your orders to him and Rizzio, instructing me not to deliver the papers to Rizzio under any circumstances.”

“When did Herr Maxwell make the discovery of Herr Rizzio’s—er—treachery?”

“It was the evening of Lady Heathcote’s dinner. Captain Byfield had learned the truth that afternoon.”

“One moment!” Rizzio rose, his face pale with anger. “It is easy to manufacture evidence of this kind, where both of the witnesses mentioned are beyond reach. I will not even deny the truth of their charges. They are too absurd. If I was acting for England, will Herr Hammersley tell me why the agents of Scotland Yard, whom he says I sent for, did not surround the house at Ashwater Park and boldly demand the papers from Miss Mather, in the name of the Government and the law?”

“The reasons are obvious,” replied Hammersley. “I will give Herr Rizzio the credit for that much delicacy. If his men had found the papers at Ashwater Park, Fräulein Mather, whom Herr Rizzio esteems most highly and who was quite innocent, would have eventually been imprisoned by the Government as a spy. At his orders the house was therefore secretly searched by night, I am happy to say, unsuccessfully. Herr Rizzio will surely not deny the kindness of his motives upon that occasion?”

“Excellenz will take that reply for what it is worth. Scotland Yard has never permitted sentimental considerations to interfere with the performance of its duties.”

Hammersley went on stolidly: “I cannot conceive of any agents of Germany attempting to kill me. This my pursuers did at Saltham Rocks and again in the person of Rizzio himself on the cliffs at Beaufort Head—even, Excellenz”—Hammersley leaned forward, smiling blandly—“even after he knew that I had met Captain Stammer and conveyed my acceptance of Excellenz’s invitation to return to Germany.”

“I was not sure that he would go.”

“If not for any other reasons, Excellenz, the pursuit of the agents of Scotland Yard would have been sufficient. Fortunately, however, I had intended going as the bearer of the Byfield message. And I carried it. You can’t deny that.”

“He brought a message, Excellenz,” put in Rizzio quickly. “But what message? There were two messages. One prepared by Captain Byfield—the other prepared by Hammersley.”

“I do not deny that. When I discovered that I was likely to have an interesting evening I made a copy of the papers in a package of Riz-la-Croix which I had in my–”

Rizzio broke in quickly. “That copy was made not at Lady Heathcote’s that night, but at the War Office or elsewhere the following day. It was prepared for the emergency of capture and, escaping that, for delivery to General von Stromberg.”

“General von Stromberg has been told about those papers. I have told him where and when I made the copy.”

“And where was that?” asked Rizzio keenly.

“In the library at Lady Heathcote’s while you were telephoning to Scotland Yard.”

Rizzio struggled for control, and then with dignity to von Stromberg, “I was telephoning to Herr Maxwell, Excellenz.” He turned to Hammersley with a confident smile. “Assuming for the moment that what you say about copying the papers is true, what did you do with the copy?”

“I took it out to the motor, where I slipped it down the window sash,” Hammersley laughed. “Surely, Rizzio, the tall man from Scotland Yard must have told you that when I escaped I shouted to him that he had not searched the motor.”

General von Stromberg broke in suddenly.

“Why did you say that?”

Hammersley shrugged. “I had injured their motor, and I knew that I should escape. The bravado of triumph, Excellenz. I was rather happy, for, as a fact, they had given me an uncomfortable evening.”

Rizzio leaned across the table.

“Excellenz, it was to draw attention from the girl, who had the original message and who had concealed herself in a tree.”

General von Stromberg took a small object from his pocket and weighed it lightly in the fingers of one hand. It was the package of Riz-la-Croix. As Hammersley was about to speak, he held up the other hand in demand for silence.

“We are not getting very far, meine Herren,” he said. “Both of you tell excellent stories of your adventures worthy of the best traditions of the Secret Service Department. If, as Herr Rizzio alleges, Herr Hammersley has substituted other papers for the original ones burned by Miss Doris Mather, Herr Hammersley will be shot. If, as Herr Hammersley alleges, Herr Rizzio was in communication with Scotland Yard, the officers of which attempted the life of Herr Hammersley while he bore dispatches for me, Herr Rizzio will be shot. It is a very delicate matter, meine Herren, one which will require much thought, since the one man who could settle the question is in an English prison.”

Hammersley started a pace forward. “Oh, then he is taken!”

Rizzio glanced quickly at Hammersley.

“Excellenz, the same person who caused the arrest of Captain Byfield gave Maxwell to the police.”

Von Stromberg’s gaze followed Rizzio’s to Hammersley.

“And you, Herr Hammersley. What do you suggest?”

“If the report is true, Excellenz, I quite agree with Herr Rizzio,” he said easily.

Von Stromberg showed his teeth in a wolfish smile.

“And each of you contends that it was the other, nicht wahr?”

Hammersley merely nodded, but Rizzio was by this time in a state which made self-control an impossibility. “Excellenz,” he cried hotly, “is it conceivable that I should have come to Germany if I had been guilty of the crime of which this man accuses me? I have served Germany against–”

“You forget, Herr Rizzio,” said the General blandly, “that Herr Hammersley has also come to Germany.”

“And while he is here Germany is in danger. He is a spy of England, Excellenz.”

Hammersley only laughed.

“If I had been a spy of England, Excellenz, I surely had many chances to serve England’s cause. Why should I have even met Captain Stammer at Beaufort Cove? It would have been quite easy to have informed the artillery officer at Innerwick and blown his destroyer out of the water while she lay at anchor? Herr Rizzio forgets that honesty is always provided with proof. In reply to this accusation, I would ask Herr Rizzio how he managed to pass through the cordon of British destroyers which guard the coast?”

Rizzio hesitated and von Stromberg spoke.

“That is a fair question. Answer.”

“I had English papers as well as German. I came away before the War Office had time to act upon Herr Hammersley’s information as to my services to Germany.”

Hammersley shrugged. “I make no reply.”

Von Stromberg frowned at the opposite wall, snapping the papers of the package in his fingers impatiently.

“An impasse! I suspected as much. We will now resort to other means. The only possible solution of this case, barring the unpleasant alternative of shooting both of you gentlemen in the garden this afternoon lies in the nature of the dispatches themselves and in the production of a material witness.”

He brought his broad palm down on the bell upon the table and said to Captain von Winden, who answered it:

“You will bring Fräulein Doris Mather down to this room at once.” As Captain von Winden went out, the eyes of both men were turned to Hammersley. He started in surprise, and leaned forward toward von Stromberg, slowly turning with a frown to Rizzio.

“Doris—Miss Mather—here!” he muttered. “She came—with—with Herr Rizzio?”

Von Stromberg nodded.

“Herr Rizzio persuaded her to come with him.”

“Persuaded! It is impossible.” He rose and took a pace toward Rizzio. “What could have been his object? I do not understand. It will be very cruel for her to—to see me—since she knows that I am an enemy of England, Excellenz. She it was who read the papers and burned them. If Herr Rizzio supposes that Fräulein Mather’s evidence will–” He paused, his brow knitting in thought.

“Her evidence is important,” said von Stromberg. “Under the circumstances you should be glad to have such an enemy to testify against you. Sit down, Herr Hammersley. I regret that the necessities of the case require this witness.”

Hammersley sat and, frowning at the wall opposite, folded his arms. “I am at your orders, Excellenz. I need not remind you that she will tell the truth.”

“That,” said von Stromberg, with a wide wave of the hand, “is precisely what we are here for.”

There was a silence, grim and amusing on von Stromberg’s part, self-restrained on Rizzio’s. Hammersley still sat staring at the wall, thoughtful and apparently in no great enjoyment of the prospect.

When the door opened and Doris Mather entered the three men rose. Her face was pale and lines of care were at her eyes and lips, but there was no denying the proud poise of her head, the firmness of her mouth and the steady look from her eyes as her glance passed Rizzio and Hammersley and sought the figure of the man in uniform. She measured him with a look that neglected nothing, her gaze finally meeting the dark shadow under the gray thatch of brows where his small eyes gleamed at her. The General bowed, clicked his heels together and brought forward a chair, which he indicated with a polite gesture.

“I offer apologies, Fräulein, for the unfortunate situation in which Destiny has placed you,” he said in excellent English. “Will you be seated?”

The girl sat and faced him, her gaze still fixed upon his face. It was as though she meant to ignore the presence of the other two men. General von Stromberg stared at her for a moment in silence, and then, finding that his frown was only met by a look of calm inquiry, smiled at her instead.

“You know, of course, Fräulein, the situation with which you are confronted. Herr Rizzio has brought you to Germany to shed what light you can upon the mystery of these cigarette papers. Herr Hammersley says that Herr Rizzio has been acting as an agent of the English Government while professedly in the service of Germany. Herr Rizzio says that Herr Hammersley is an English spy. Your position is a difficult one, but circumstances have woven you into a piece of international politics. Your testimony is of the utmost importance—to one—perhaps both of these gentlemen.”

“I—I will do what I can to enlighten you,” she said haltingly. “What do you wish to know?”

General von Stromberg beamed on her.

“Ach, I am glad you take the sensible view of things.” He waved the package of cigarette papers in his fingers. “You have seen this object before?”

“Yes, I think so. Will you let me look at it?”

The General moved his chair closer and put the papers in her fingers. She opened the papers and finding the message, scanned it closely, reading the writing with deliberateness and then looking up into von Stromberg’s face.

“You have seen this before?”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“At Lady Heathcote’s house in Scotland.”

“How did it come into your hands?”

“I found it on the floor of Mr. Hammersley’s room.”

“The night Herr Rizzio entered it, thinking it was yours?”

“Yes. That was the time.”

“You are quite sure?”

“Quite.”

“How did you identify it?”

“By certain peculiar characteristics of the handwriting, with which I am familiar.”

“Mr. Hammersley’s, is it not?”

“Yes.”

“And how did this package of papers go out of your possession?”

“Mr.—Mr. Hammersley took them from me.”

“By force?”

She raised her chin proudly and looked at her questioner and then lowered her eyes, replying quietly:

“Yes.”

“There was another package of cigarette papers of the same make as these?”

“There was.”

“You read them?”

“I did.”

“Was this before or after you found the second package—these which I now have in my hand?”

“Before.”

“How long before?”

“It was the night of Lady Heathcote’s dinner in London—the night Mr. Hammersley took me home in the machine.”

“The night you were followed by men in another machine?”

“Yes.”

“You escaped to Ashwater Park with the package of papers which Herr Hammersley had given you and, after hiding in a tree, in the privacy of your room read these papers?”

“I did.”

“Were the contents of the papers you read at Ashwater Park the same as those you hold in your hand?”

“As nearly as I can remember, they were, exactly.”

“Word for word?”

“I cannot say that. There were certain names and certain figures that I remember very clearly as being exactly the same. I—I–” she hesitated. “There were reasons why, in the state of mind that I was in, what I saw remained impressed upon my memory.”

Hammersley throughout had sat immovable. But Rizzio, who had shown signs of anxiety, now interrupted.

“Excellenz, I beg–”

Von Stromberg silenced him with a gesture.

“If you will be pleased to continue, Fräulein. Do you remember the numerals?”

“Some of them.”

“And the towns and dates?”

“Some of them.”

“And are they, the ones that you remember, identical in both packets?”

“As far as I can remember.”

Von Stromberg took the packet from her hands and turned it over in his fingers.

“There is nothing about this packet, no distinguishing mark that would make it different from the other, the one that was burned?”

“None, except the handwriting.”

“H-m.” General von Stromberg put the packet into an inside pocket and buttoned his coat carefully.

“So far—so good. You are an intelligent witness, Fräulein.”

“Thank you.” If the words of her questioner contained an ulterior suggestion, the girl gave every indication of being oblivious to it, listening with a grave calmness to his next question.

“When you escaped into the tree, were you in a position to hear what went on in the road?”