"I know Count von Minckwitz, Grand-Master of the Court of the Duke of Saxe-Altenbourg," was my reply.
"No. This is a man, Wilhelm Minckwitz, who poses as a musician."
I shook my head.
"You are quite certain that you have never heard the name? Try to recollect whether the Crown-Prince has ever mentioned him in your presence."
I endeavoured to recall the circ.u.mstance, for somehow very gradually I felt a distinct recollection of having once heard that name before.
"At the moment I fail to recall anything, Your Majesty," was my answer.
The Emperor knit his brows as though annoyed at my reply, and then grunted deeply in dissatisfaction.
"Remain here in Potsdam," he said. "Telegraph to the Crown-Prince recalling him at my orders, and I will cancel the inspection at Thorn.
Tell the Crown-Prince that I wish to see him to-night immediately upon his return."
Then, noticing for the first time that the Emperor held a paper in his hand, I realized that by its colour it was one of those secret reports furnished for the Kaiser"s eye alone--a report of one of the thousands of spies of Germany spread everywhere.
Minckwitz! I impressed that name upon my memory, and, being dismissed, bowed myself out of the Imperial presence.
Returning to the Marmor Palace I sent a long and urgent message over the private wire to "Willie" at Altona, repeating His Majesty"s orders, and recalling him at once. Quite well I knew that such an unusual message would arouse His Highness"s apprehension that for some offence or other he was about to receive a paternal castigation. But I could not be explicit, because I had no knowledge of the reason the Emperor was cancelling our engagement at Thorn.
At nine o"clock that night the Crown-Prince, gay in his Hussar uniform, burst into the room wherein I was attending to the correspondence.
"What in the name of Fate does all this mean, Heltzendorff?" he demanded. "Why did the Emperor fail to reply to my message?"
"I delivered it," I said. And then I described what took place in the Emperor"s private dining-room. When I mentioned the name of Minckwitz the Crown-Prince started and his cheeks blanched.
"Did he ask you that?" he gasped.
"Yes. I told him the only person I knew of that name was Count von Minckwitz."
"Ah, that little fat, old Master of the Court. Oh! The Emperor knows him well enough. It is somebody else he is referring to."
"Do you know him?" I asked eagerly.
"Me? Why--why, of course not!" was "Willie"s" quick reply, in a tone which showed me that he was not telling the truth.
"His Majesty wishes to see you at once," I urged, full of wonder.
I could plainly see that His Imperial Highness had been much upset at mention of the mysterious person called Minckwitz. What could the Emperor know of him? Was there some scandal at the root of it all, some facts which the Crown-Prince feared might be revealed?
Travel-stained, and without changing his tunic, "Willie" went to the telephone and ordered Knof to bring back the car. And in it he drove across to the Neues Palais to see the Emperor.
I had an important appointment in Berlin that night, and waited until quite late for "Willie"s" return. As he did not come I left for the capital, and on arrival at my rooms rang up Wolff"s Agency, and gave out a paragraph to the Press that His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince had been compelled to abandon his journey to Thorn, owing to having contracted a chill. His wife "Cilli"--the contraction for Cecilia--had, however, gone to visit Princess Henry of Rohnstock at Furstenstein.
Several weeks went by, and one day we were at the ancient schloss at Oels, in far Silesia, the great estate which the Crown-Prince inherited on coming of age. The castle is a big, prison-like place, surrounded by wide lands and dense forests, lying between the town of Breslau and the Polish frontier, a remote, rural place to which "Willie" loved sometimes to retire with a few kindred spirits in order to look over the estate and to shoot.
The guests included old Count von Reisenach, Court Chamberlain, of the Prince of Schombourg-Lippe, who was a noted raconteur and bon-vivant, with Major von Heidkamper, of the 4th Bavarian Light Cavalry, a constant companion of "Willie"s," and Karl von Pappenheim, a captain of the Prussian Guard, who had been educated at Oxford, and who was so English that it was often difficult for people from London to believe that he was a Prussian.
Von Pappenheim, a tall, good-looking, fair-moustached man under thirty, was one of "Willie"s" new friends. He was the son of a great landowner of Erfurt, and the pair had for the past month been inseparable. He was a shrewd, keen-eyed man, who seemed ever on the alert, but, of course, obsessed by military dignity, and as full of swagger as any Prussian officer could be. He had a sister, Margarete, a pretty girl, a year or so his junior, who had been to the Marmor Palace on one occasion. The Crown-Princess had received her, but from the fact that she was not invited a second time I concluded that the inevitable jealousy had arisen, because in my presence "Willie" had more than once referred to her beauty.
I sometimes suspected that "Willie"s" sudden and close friendship with Von Pappenheim had some connection with his intense admiration of the latter"s sister. I, however, learnt the truth concerning their intimacy in a curious way while at the Schloss Oels.
One day I had accompanied the party out after stag, for, being a fair shot, I frequently s.n.a.t.c.hed a day"s sport. Soon after luncheon, which we took at a forester"s house, we went forth again, and I concealed myself at a point of vantage, lying behind a screen of ferns and branches specially constructed as cover.
I was alone, at some considerable distance from the others, and had been there waiting for nearly an hour with my gun in readiness when suddenly I heard the cracking of dried wood not far away.
Something was moving. I raised my gun in breathless eagerness.
Next moment, however, I heard the voices of two men.--"Willie" and his friend, Von Pappenheim. They were approaching me, speaking in low, confidential tones.
"You quite understand," "Willie" was saying. "My position is a terrible one. I don"t know how to extricate myself. If I dare reveal the truth then I know full well what their vengeance will be."
"But, my dear Caesar," was Karl von Pappenheim"s reply, for he was on such intimate terms that he called His Highness by the name Von Hochberg had bestowed upon him, "is it not your duty to risk all and tell the truth?" he suggested seriously.
The pair had halted only a few yards from me and taken cover behind a dead bush which had been cut down and placed conveniently at the spot, in case the shooting party were a large one and the screen behind which I had concealed myself was insufficient. So near were they that I could hear all that was said.
"The Emperor would neither believe me nor forgive me," "Willie" said.
"Minckwitz is a clever devil. He would bring manufactured evidence which must implicate me."
Minckwitz! That was the name which the Emperor had uttered, asking me if I knew him! That incident at the Neues Palais flashed across my memory.
I recollected, too, how, when I had referred to the circ.u.mstance, His Highness had become pale and agitated. Mention of the name had affected him curiously.
"But can he bring evidence?" asked his companion.
"Yes, curse him!--he can!"
"You can refute it, surely?"
"No, I can"t. If I could I should make a clean breast of the whole matter," "Willie" declared. From the tone of his voice I realized how utterly bewildered he was.
"But cannot I help you? Cannot I see Minckwitz and bluff him?" his friend suggested.
"You don"t know him," was the reply. "He holds me in the hollow of his hand."
"Ah! Then you have been horribly indiscreet--eh?"
"I have. I admit I have, Karl; and I do not see any way out of it."
"But, my dear Caesar, think of the danger existing day by day--hour by hour!" cried Von Pappenheim. "Think what there is at stake! That letter you showed me this morning reveals only too plainly what is intended."
"It is a letter of defiance, I admit."
"And a catastrophe must inevitably occur if you do not act."
"But how can I act?" cried the Crown-Prince, in despair. "Suggest something--I cannot. If I utter a syllable Minckwitz will most certainly carry out his threat against me."
"Contrive to have him arrested upon some charge or other," Karl suggested.