CHAPTER XVI

  The News Leaks Out

  "HERE'S a letter from Kiel for you," announced Octavius Smith as heentered the cabin of the _Diomeda_. "You're a rum card, Stirling; yougenerally manage to get hold of everything you want. Bless me if Iever thought you'd get a reply from Pfeil."

  "It's quite about time," replied Gordon Stirling unconcernedly as hecaught the envelope his companion tossed towards him.

  Ten days had elapsed since Stirling had set out to carry off ajournalistic scoop. Allowing for two Sundays, that were not countedin ordinary leave, only six more days remained. In less than a weekhe would have to be slogging away in the Inland Revenue Office atLowestoft, making up arrears of work that his confr?res were bound tokeep open for him. That is one of the ethics of a GovernmentDepartment. A fellow returning from leave is supposed to be like ayoung giant refreshed with wine--ready and willing to tackle anyaccumulative work. The result is that almost all the benefits from aholiday are thrown away upon a desperate attempt to reduce the pileof bookwork to reasonable dimensions.

  For days past the westerly breeze had held. Smith was beginning tofret at the enforced detention, especially as he learnt frommeteorological reports that only a few miles to the north the windwas almost exactly in the opposite direction.

  "There you are!" exclaimed Stirling excitedly. "Didn't I say so?"

  "Say what?" demanded the skipper, deliberately recharging his pipe.

  "I'll read you Pfeil's letter. There are one or two words I can'tmake out without a dictionary, but I can make a very good guess atthem:

  "T.B.D. S167. "KIEL.

  "DEAR SIR,--

  "In answer to your letter, I hasten to send this by thenext dispatch. I know your friends, Herr Hamerton andHerr Detroit, are in Heligoland, so there must be amistake in the story that they met with a disaster. HowI know is this: my brother Sigismund is in S174, one ofthe boats operating with us when I fell overboard andwas rescued by your friends. Directly I was landed Iwrote to him assuring him of my safety, and describingthe yacht and her crew who treated me so kindly. In hisreply he told me the English yacht was lying offHeligoland, and that Herr Hamerton and his friend hadlanded to be the guests of one of our German officers.The next day the yacht was towed away--I think it wasto Bremen--to undergo some repairs. The Englishmenremained. Five days ago my brother's torpedo-boatdestroyer S174 left for the purpose of towing her backto Heligoland. She has apparently been delayed by badweather, for she has not yet returned. This ought todispel any doubts in your mind concerning an accidentto your friends. We leave for Stettin to-morrow on athree-weeks' cruise.

  "With respects, "Yours, "HANS PFEIL."

  "There, old man, what do you think of that?"

  Smith puffed vigorously at his pipe for a minute or so. His knittedeyebrows showed that he was deep in thought.

  "Fishy; decidedly fishy," he remarked. "Stirling, you stand a chanceof pulling off your scoop after all. It is fishy--very. The_Diomeda_, lying here in Delfzyl, is supposed to be at Bremen forrepairs. The German destroyer S174 is supposed to be sent to tow herback. I wonder whether that vessel that is persistently hanging aboutoff the entrance to the Dollart is S174?"

  "We'll find out," said Stirling decisively. "Come along. Van Wyk willbe able to tell us."

  They found the old harbourmaster in his office.

  "The number of that German destroyer?" he repeated. "I know not; butsince you are curious I can find out. Come with me to the quay; the_Maas_ has just returned. It is possible that Captain Jan will beable to tell us."

  Captain Jan van Hoes, the skipper of the botter _Maas_, was sittingon the brightly painted skylight of his craft. A long pipe was in hismouth; his hands were deep in his voluminous pockets; his legs,encased in stiff baggy, trousers, were thrust out straight in frontof him.

  "Passed that German craft, aye, that I did," said the old skipper,without removing either his pipe or his hands. "Steamingsouth-south-west about four miles outside Rottumeroog. S174 was hernumber. Saw it through my glass as plainly as I can see the town-hallclock."

  "Thank you for your information," said Stirling, offering the oldfellow a gulden. Captain Jan looked at the coin, began to draw onehand from his pocket, and then slowly thrust it back again.

  "I want no money for doing nothing, Mynheer," he said. "You arewelcome to what I have told you."

  "Look here," began Smith, when the two Englishmen regained the deckof the _Diomeda_, "this job wants any amount of tact. I don't thinkI'd telegraph the information. It will keep a few hours longer."

  "And what then?"

  "Get back to London as fast as you can. Don't mind me; I can hang onhere very comfortably. See your editor and explain matters to him.He'll be able to deal with the business far more diplomatically thaneither you or I can. If he thinks fit to publish the news, well andgood; but my private opinion is that he will communicate with theForeign Office. The British and United States ambassadors in Berlinwill be instructed to ask a few questions, and in less than a weekHamerton and Detroit will be set at liberty."

  "But supposing Thompson decides otherwise?"

  "Then there'll be war between Great Britain and the United States onthe one hand and Germany on the other, unless Germany climbs down.Popular sentiment will be raised to such a pitch that war will beinevitable. But Thompson won't, except as a last resource. Now packup and clear out. You'll just manage to catch the Harwich boat."

  Sixteen hours later Stirling entered the private office of HaroldBennett, the editor of _The Yachtsman's Journal_. Bennett eyed himsadly, for Stirling's "special" looked as if it meant a financialloss to the already slender resources of the paper.

  "I've found out something," exclaimed Stirling excitedly. "Hamertonand Detroit are alive. They are in Heligoland. There is every reasonto believe that they are imprisoned as spies under the names of Johnand William Smith."

  "Have you proof?"

  "Yes."

  "Then why in the name of thunder didn't you wire? We've just gone topress, and there'll be nearly a week's delay. I'm bound to informThompson, and by next Friday the news will be as stale as anything.Anyhow, let's have the story."

  Not a word did Bennett speak while Stirling was relating theincidents of his stay at Delfzyl and expounding his theories.Occasionally he would make a pencil note on his blotting pad.

  "I quite agree with you, Stirling," he said at length. "A precipitatedisclosure would be most injudicious. I'll ring up Thompson.

  "You there, Thompson? This is Bennett. Can you spare me half anhour?"

  "Impossible."

  "You must. Stirling, my special, has just returned from Holland. Veryimportant news."

  "Well, out with it."

  "Must see you personally."

  "Very well then." Thompson glanced irritably at the half-completed"leader" on his desk. "Half an hour. Ring off."

  It was more than two hours before _The Yachtsman's Journal_ editorand Stirling left the offices of _The Westminster Daily Record_. Theydid not leave alone. Thompson accompanied them, having delegated thecompletion of his leader to the sub-editor.

  Outside the offices the three men entered a taxi and were driven tothe Foreign Office. The presentation of Thompson's card was a surepassport to the sanctum of Sir Theophilus Brazenose, the Secretary ofState for Foreign Affairs.

  Sir Theophilus was essentially a strong man. He was active in mindand body, prompt to act, yet displaying a natural caution that onmany occasions had stood him in good stead, and had piloted thenation through many an international crisis.

  "You are quite right, Thompson," he remarked, after carefullylistening to the editor's narrative, and perusing the letter whichStirling had received from Hans Pfeil. "This is a delicate situation.Extreme reticence and secrecy are essential. Of course I quite agreewith you that this German seaman's name should not appe
ar in anydispatches forwarded to our ambassador in Berlin. It would result inthe severest punishment being inflicted upon him by the GermanAdmiralty for his unquestionable indiscretion, however serviceable itmay be to us. By all means refrain from making the news public. Iwill decide what is to be done as soon as possible. Meanwhile, Mr.Stirling, let me offer you my congratulations on your zeal, tact, andastuteness."

  Stirling bowed. In his mind he was wondering whether Sir Theophiluswould be so lavish with his praises if he knew that he (Stirling) wasa civil servant drawing a paltry salary of a hundred a year.

  "You'll be in town for a few days, I hope?" asked Thompson, when thethree journalists returned to the offices of _The Westminster DailyRecord_. "I hardly know. You see, my leave is up next Saturday."

  "Your leave?" asked Thompson brusquely.

  "Yes; I'm not on the regular staff of _The Yachtsman's Journal_. I'min the Inland Revenue Office at Lowestoft."

  "Good post?"

  "Hardly," Stirling told him.

  "Chuck it, my lad. Send in your resignation. You're merely wastingyour time there. I'll offer you a post at two hundred and fiftypounds as special correspondent; permanency, mind you, with goodprospects; send you back to the Continent till this Heligolandbusiness is finished with."

  Two more days passed. The Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs wasin constant telegraphic communication with the British Ambassador inBerlin. The most elaborate cipher was used, and precautions taken toprevent leakage of unauthentic information.

  The Ambassador was instructed to apply to the German Government forpermission to interview John and William Smith, the condemned spies;the authorities at Berlin hedged. They took umbrage at the somewhatunusual request.

  Suddenly a journalistic bombshell burst upon the British public. In_The Morning Remembrancer_, a "rag" with a comparatively limitedcirculation, appeared the following, in heavy type:--

  "THE IDENTITY OF THE HELIGOLAND SPIES "STARTLING REPORTS "(Specially contributed to this Journal)

  "Advice from our own correspondent reveals thestartling fact that the identity of the two personssentenced, under the names of John and William Smith,to five years' detention for espionage has been madeknown. The victims of an international outrage areSub-Lieutenant John Hamerton, R.N., and Mr. OswaldDetroit, son of Senator Jonathan Detroit, of Norfolk,Virginia, U.S.A. The story of their supposed tragicfate in the North Sea, being reported to have been lostoverboard from the yacht _Diomeda_, is still fresh inthe public memory. Further startling disclosures areimminent. We understand that representations have beenmade to Germany by the Governments of Great Britain andthe United States for the immediate release of thealleged spies."

  Stirling happened to be at the office of _The Westminster DailyRecord_ when Thompson's attention was called to the dramaticannouncement in the rival publication.

  Thompson was not usually a man to give way to outbursts of temper. Hewas generally brusque, deliberate, and level-headed, but on thisoccasion his fury for a few moments was uncontrollable.

  "Someone has sold us!" he shouted. "That wretched rag has got thelaugh at us. If I could only get hold of the fellow that supplied theinformation--it wasn't you, Stirling?"

  "No, sir," replied that individual.

  "I believe you. Sorry I asked the question." Thompson was growingcalmer by this time. "It's bad enough for our reputation to let arival collar what is by right our scoop. Makes my blood boil. And,not only that, there's a fresh danger of an international rupture. Alittle diplomacy would perhaps have settled this spy business. SirTheophilus Brazenose has the matter in hand, and now the fat is inthe fire. Just you 'phone to Bennett and ask him if he knows anythingabout the matter."

  But before Stirling could get connected the editor of _TheYachtsman's Journal_ hurriedly entered.

  "Seen this, Thompson?" he asked, holding up a folded copy of _TheMorning Remembrancer_.

  "Of course," replied Thompson dryly. "It does not do to go about withone's eyes shut. All the same, it's a bad business; another case ofjournalistic integrity letting one down pretty badly."

  "What do you propose doing?"

  "Calling at the Foreign Office. It's close on ten, and Sir Theophiluswill be there at that hour. Come along, and you too, Stirling."

  "One moment," said Bennett. "You will be losing precious time. Get aspecial out. Explain matters, and ask the public to reserve judgmentuntil the Foreign Office has had its say."

  Without a word Thompson sat down, took up a pencil, and began toscribble. There was no hesitation; the point of his pencil glidedover the paper at a rapid pace, yet each letter was formed as clearlyas if it were copperplate.

  "There!" he exclaimed, when the leader was finished. "How will thatdo?"

  Bennett took the proffered slip, and read:

  "THE HELIGOLAND ESPIONAGE CASE

  "With reference to the report appearing in the columnsof a contemporary, it will doubtless be interesting toknow that the material facts brought to public noticehave been known to this journal for some time. Since itis our principle to take our readers into ourconfidence, we now have no hesitation in stating theactual facts of the case. Our special commissionerreturned from the Continent on Monday last, bringingwith him the startling news that the spies condemnedunder the names of John and William Smith were_supposed_ to be Sub-Lieutenant Hamerton, R.N., and Mr.Oswald Detroit, an American citizen. We venture tosuggest that our contemporary has no actual proof thatsuch is the case, and we throw out a challenge to thateffect.

  "Immediately upon receiving our commissioner's report,we, together with the editor of an influential yachtingjournal, waited upon Sir Theophilus Brazenose,Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, and laid thematter before him. Sir Theophilus acted immediately,issuing instructions to the British Ambassador inBerlin. At the same time he urged upon us the necessityof withholding the news from the public until ourcommissioner's report was either confirmed orcontradicted.

  "This we cordially agreed to do, in the belief that itwas in the interests of the nation. Unfortunately thenews has leaked out through some obscure channel. Wetherefore ask the public to refrain for the moment frommaking any demonstrations of antagonism towards afriendly Power, and to leave the issue confidently inthe hands of His Majesty's most able Minister forForeign Affairs."

  "That ought to act as a cold douche to our hot-headed friends on thestaff of _The Morning Remembrancer_," observed Bennett. "Now, we'llbe off to the Foreign Office."

  They found Sir Theophilus considerably perturbed at the ill-judgedannouncement in _The Morning Remembrancer_. He realized the danger ofa popular outburst.

  "The nation ought to be roused to a pitch of indignation should Mr.Stirling's report prove correct," he observed; "only, there is thisradical point: we have no proof. It is evident that some subordinatehas been induced to impart confidential information, and thiscatchpenny journal has jumped to the conclusion that Mr. Stirling'ssuppositions are absolutely correct. They may be, of course, but onthe face of it the action of the German authorities seemspreposterous."

  "Yet Stirling is emphatic upon the point that Hamerton and hisAmerican friend are in Heligoland. There is also definite proof thata German destroyer is dodging about off the Dollart. There was also areport spread about to the effect that the yacht was towed to Bremenfor repairs, while all the time she was lying at Delfzyl," observedThompson.

  "There is certainly ground for strong suspicions," admitted SirTheophilus. "I frankly admit that we have often to act on rumours farless trustworthy than these. However, we can only await a reply fromthe British Embassy at Berlin. Meanwhile there is popular opinion tobe taken into account. I think that----"

  A tap on the door, followed by the entry of one of theunder-secretaries, caused Sir Theophilus to break off abruptly. Thesubordinate, observing that his chief was engaged, was about to backout of the door, when Sir Theophilus asked him what he wanted.

  "Here is a copy of the special edition of _The Westminster DailyRecord_, sir," he
announced. "There is a leader on the Heligolandaffair. I thought perhaps you would care to see it."

  "So you could not refrain, Mr. Thompson?" asked Sir Theophilus, witha suspicion of reproachfulness in his voice.

  Thompson did not reply. He merely shrugged his broad shoulders andwaited.

  The Secretary of State began to read. As he did so his visitorsnarrowly watched his features. Gradually the frown on his browsrelaxed.

  "Excellent, Thompson, excellent!" he exclaimed. "You've tackled thebusiness with most praiseworthy skill. We can now only awaitdevelopments. Rest assured that as soon as I have a _communiqu?_ fromthe Embassy I will send for you again."

  But in spite of the efforts of the editor of _The Westminster DailyRecord_, the storm raised by the rival journal attained hugedimensions. There were indignation meetings in almost every town andvillage of the United Kingdom. Letters abusing the Government andaccusing the Foreign Office of being weak-kneed and incapable pouredin by every post. Shouts of "Down with Germany" were raised inParliament Street and in Trafalgar Square while intolerant demandswere made that the Fleet should proceed to German waters and smashthe Teutonic Navy to smithereens.

  Nor was the anti-German outburst confined to this side of the"Herring Pond". From New York to San Francisco, and from the Canadianfrontier to the shores of the Gulf of Mexico, the usuallylevel-headed citizens of the greatest republic on earth shouted forrevenge for the insult offered to one of their sons. It required thegreatest diplomacy on the part of those in authority tactfully tocurb the impatience of millions until the fateful report from Berlinshould arrive.

  The British and United States Ambassadors at the German capital lostno time in presenting a polite yet firm demand that they should bepermitted to have access to the two condemned spies. To this theKaiser's ministers promised their consideration.

  Meanwhile General Heinrich von Wittelsbach had been hurriedlysummoned to Berlin. He fully realized that there was danger ahead.There were two courses open to him: either to confess his error,explain his motives, and throw himself upon the clemency of hisImperial master; or else to take a high hand, stanchly declare thatno mistake had been made, and appeal to the Kaiser not to lower thedignity of the Hohenzollerns by submitting to the arrogant demands ofthe ambassadors of Great Britain and the United States.

  He chose the latter course. It would mean either victory ordishonour, whereas by the former course nothing but disgrace would behis portion.

  It was at a levee in the imperial palace of Potsdam that the Emperorquestioned the governor of his fortress of Heligoland.

  Von Wittelsbach's answer came--firmly and without hesitation.

  "Sire, I give you my solemn word--the word of a soldier--that neitherthe English officer, Hamerton, nor the American, Detroit, is in theIsland of Heligoland."

  Therein he spoke truthfully, for before leaving for Berlin thecommandant had ordered the removal of the prisoners to the adjacentisland of Sandinsel.

 
Percy F. Westerman's Novels