As to that the raised eyebrows showed doubt. Wilbraham, it wasapparent, inspired a deep mistrust. The fat little man was shivering,either from fear or cold or thwarted sleep, as he opened the door forHenry to pass out.
"The will of God will be done," was what he regretfully said, "unlesshis dear Mother can by any means avert it. For me, I escape, ifnecessary, where they cannot find me. Good-night, Signore."
He shut the door softly behind Henry, who found himself outside ablock of old houses at the lake end of the Rue Muzy, under a settingmoon, as the city clocks struck two. The night, which had seemed toHenry already so long, was yet, as nights of action go, young.
Henry, as he walked homewards by the lake's edge, wondered where andin what manner Macdermott and Garth had emerged, or would emerge, tothe earth's face.
The earth's face! Never, on any of the lovely nights in that mostlovely place, had it seemed to Henry fairer than it seemed this night,as he walked along the Quai des Eaux Vives, the clean, cool airfilling his lungs and gently fanning his damp forehead, the dark andshining water lapping softly against its stone bounds. How far betterwas the earth's face than its inside!
Henry, tired and chilled, had now no thought but sleep. To-morrowearly he would go to the President of Committee 9 with his report.Also he would wire the story early to his paper. As he lay in bed, toomuch excited, after all, to sleep (for Henry suffered from nervousexcitement in excess) he composed his press story. Anti-disarmament,anti-peace fiends, plotting with Russian Monarchists to wreck theLeague ... all this had the _British Bolshevist_ many a timesuggested, but now it could speak with no uncertain voice. Names mighteven be given.... Then, in the evening, when the police had exploredthe avenues, investigated the mystery, and proved the facts, a secondtelegram, more detailed, could be despatched. What a scoop! After all,thought Henry, tossing wakeful and wide-eyed in the warm dawn, afterall he was proving himself a good journalist. No one could say afterthis that he was not a good journalist.
39
M. Fernandez Croza, delegate from Paraguay, and President of theCommittee on the Disappearance of Delegates, sat after breakfast withhis private secretary and his stenographer in his sitting-room at theHotel des Bergues, dictating a speech he meant to deliver at thatmorning's session of the Assembly on the beauties of a world peace. Itwas a very creditable and noble speech, and he meant to deliver it inSpanish, as a protest, though his English and French were faultless.
M. Croza was a graceful person, young for a delegate, slightly built,aquiline, brown skinned, black haired, shaved clean in the Englishand American manner, which Latins seldom use, and which he had pickedup, among other things, in the course of an Oxford education. Theprivate secretary and the stenographer were a swarthy young man andwoman with full lips and small moustaches.
M. Croza was clever, determined, and patriotic; he believed firmly inthe future of the Latin American republics, and particularly in thatof Paraguay; in the necessity of imbuing into the staff of the Leagueof Nations more Latin American blood, and in the desirability ofmaking Spanish a third official language in the Assembly. He dislikedthe Secretariat as at present constituted, thinking it European,narrow, and conceited, and he could, when orating on topics less nobleand more imminent than a world peace, make a very relevant and acutespeech.
To him, already thus busy at ten o'clock in the morning, entered ahotel messenger with a card bearing the name of the correspondent ofthe _British Bolshevist_, and the words "Urgent and privatebusiness."
"I suppose he wants a statement on the Paraguay attitude towardsArgentine meat," M. Croza commented. "I had better see him."
He turned to his stenographer, and said (in Spanish, in which tongue,it may be observed, it sounded even better than in the Englishrendering): "And so the gentle doves of peace comma pursued downstormy skies by the hawks of war comma shall find at length ... shallfind at length.... Alvarez, please finish that sentence later on. Thatwill do for the present, se?orita.... Admit Mr. Beechtree, messenger."
Mr. Beechtree was admitted. The slim, pale, shabby and yet somehowelegant young man, with his monocle, so useless, so foppish, danglingon its black ribbon, pleased, on the whole, M. Croza's fastidioustaste.
After introductions, courtesies, apologies, and seatings, Mr.Beechtree got to business.
"I have," he began, in his soft, light, tired voice, "a curious storyto tell. I am in a position, after much search, to throw a good dealof light on the recent mysterious disappearances. I have evidence ofa very serious nature indeed...."
M. Croza, in his capacity of President of Committee 9, had become usedto such evidence of late. But he always welcomed it, and did so now,with an encouraging nod.
Perhaps the nod, though encouraging, had an air of habit, for Mr.Beechtree added quickly, "What I have to tell you is most unusual. Itimplicates persons not usually implicated. Indeed, never before. I amnot here to hurl random accusations against persons for whom I happento feel a distaste. I am here with solid, documentary evidence. I haveit in this case." He opened his shabby dispatch case, and showed itfull of papers.
"It implicates," he continued, "an individual who holds adistinguished position on the staff of the Secretariat."
M. Croza leant forward, interested, stimulated, not displeased.
"You amaze me," he said. "Take a note, Alvarez, if you please."
"Some years ago," said Henry, gratified by the delegate's attentionand the secretary's poised pencil, "before the League of Nations,so-called----"
"It _is_ the League of Nations," said the delegate, with a littlefrown.
"To be sure it is," Henry recollected himself. He had merely used"so-called" as a term indicative of contempt, like "sic," forgettingthat he was not addressing the readers of the _British Bolshevist_."Well, before the League of Nations existed--to be exact, in the year1919--I had occasion, by chance, to discover some things about thisindividual. I learnt that his wife was the daughter of an armamentsknight, and that he himself had a great deal of money in the business.There was no great harm in this, from his point of view; he never, inthose days, professed to be a pacifist, for, though he wieldedthroughout the war a pen in preference to a sword, he truly believedit to be mightier; he was, in fact, in the Ministry of Information. Hewas not inconsistent in those days, though he was, I imagine, nevereasy in his mind about this money he had, and held his shares underhis wife's name only. But when the League Secretariat was formed, hewas one of the first to receive an appointment on it. It was notgenerally known where he got his income from, and he found himself ina prominent position on the staff of a League, one of whose objects,if only one among many, is to end war. So there he was, his fortunedependent on the continuation of the very thing he was officiallyworking to suppress. It wasn't to be expected that he should bepleased at the prospect of the disarmament question coming up beforethe Assembly; or at the prospect of the various disputes going on nowin the world being discussed in the Assembly and referred to judicialarbitration. Much better for him if the rumours and threats of warshould continue."
"Continue," stated the delegate, "they always will. That, Mr.Beechtree, we may take as certain, in this imperfect world. Yes....He's an Englishman, I assume, this friend of yours?"
"An Englishman, yes. Intensely an Englishman." Henry paused a moment."I had better tell you at once; he is Charles Wilbraham."
"Wilbraham!" M. Croza was startled. He felt no love for Wilbraham,who, for his part, felt and showed little for the Latin Americanrepublics. M. Croza bitterly remembered various sneers which had beenrepeated to him.... Besides, it was Wilbraham who had cast suspicionon Paraguay. Further, he had been at Oxford with Wilbraham, and haddisliked him there.
"Go on, sir," he said gravely and yet ardently.
"So," said Henry, "Wilbraham hatches a scheme. Or, possibly it ishatched by his father-in-law, Sir John Levis (he's one of thedirectors of Pottle & Kett's, the great armament firm), and Wilbrahamis persuaded to carry it out; it doesn't matter which. Levis has beenin Gene
va now for some days. He has lain rather low and has not beenstaying at Wilbraham's house, but I've evidence from his secretarythat they have been constantly together. They cast around to findconvenient colleagues, unscrupulous enough to do desperate things, andwith their own reasons for wishing to nullify the work of the Leagueand to hold up discussion of international affairs while disturbancescome to a head."
"Such colleagues," mused M. Croza, "would not be hard to find."
"Whom do they pitch on? There are a number of possibly suitablehelpers, and I can't say how many of them are involved. But what Ihave evidence of is that they brought in the Russian delegate to theircouncils--Kratzky, who is a byword even among Russians for sticking atnothing. If Kratzky could stave off discussion of European politicsand paralyse the Assembly until Russia should be ready and able topounce on and hold by force the new Russian republics--well, naturallymonarchist Russia would be pleased. I have evidence that Wilbraham andLevis have been continually meeting and conferring with Kratzky sincethe Assembly began. Kratzky, that bloody butcher...."
M. Croza, whose sympathy was all with small republics against majorpowers, agreed about Kratzky.
"You haven't," he suggested, "notes of what has actually passedbetween Wilbraham and Kratzky on the subject?"
"I regret that I have not. I could never get near enough.... ButI have evidence of continual meetings, continual lunches andconferences. This I have obtained from Wilbraham's secretary. She hasto keep his engagements for him. I have obtained possession of thelittle pocket-book in which she notes them. I have it here. See:'Saturday, Lunch, Caf? du Nord, Kratzky and Sir John. Sunday, UpSal?ve, with Kratzky. Monday, 8 a.m., Bathe, Kra----' No, that can'tbe Kratzky; he wouldn't bathe; that must be some one else. And so on,and so on. Now, I ask you, what would one talk about to Kratzky allthat time except some iniquitous intrigue? It's all Kratzky knowsabout. So, you see, when I began to suspect all this, I took totracking Wilbraham, following him about. It's been, I can tell you,a most tiring job. Wilbraham is such a very tedious man. A mostfrightful bore. His very voice makes me sick.... But I followed him.I tracked him. All over the shop I tracked him. And last night hetrapesed round the town with Levis and Kratzky and a horrid littleCalvinist clergyman who must be in it too. I hate Calvinists, don'tyou?"
"Intolerable persons," agreed the delegate from Paraguay.
"Well, at last they hared down a trap-door in an archway into thebowels of the earth. I saw them into it. After some time I went downtoo. I couldn't find them, but I found an extraordinary system oftunnelling--a regular catacomb. You get in and out of it all over thetown, through _trappons_, mostly in old houses, I think. I didn'tdiscover where half the tunnels ended. But obviously Wilbraham and hisfriends know all about it. And that's what they've done with thedelegates. Either hidden them somewhere alive down there, or killedthem. When Kratzky's in an affair, the people up against him don't, asa rule, come out alive.... I don't know how much the police know aboutthis tunnel business, but they must make a complete investigation, ofcourse."
"Obviously, without delay.... A singular story, Mr. Beechtree; verysingular."
"Life is singular," said Henry.
"There you are very right." ... But M. Croza, used to the politicallife of South American republics, found no stories of plots andintrigues really singular. "You have reason," he added, "to thinkbadly of Mr. Wilbraham, I infer?"
"Grave reasons. I know him for a very ugly character. It is high timehe was exposed."
M. Croza thought so too. As has been said, he did not care for CharlesWilbraham. And what a counter-charge to Wilbraham's accusations againthe residents at the Hotel des Bergues!
"One of these Catholic converts," he reflectively commented. "I do notlike them. To be born a Catholic, that is one thing, and who can helpit? After all, it is the true faith. To become a Catholic--that isquite another thing, and seems to us in Paraguay to denote eitherfeebleness of intellect or a dishonest mind. In a man, that is. Women,of course, are different, not having intellect, and being naturally_d?votes_. So, anyhow, we believe in Paraguay. But perhaps one isunfair."
"It is difficult not to be unfair to these," Henry agreed. "But it ismore than difficult, it is impossible, to be unfair to Wilbraham.Nothing we think or say of him can be in excess of the truth. Such isWilbraham. He always has been.... Now, if you will, sir, I will showyou the documents I have with me which corroborate my story."
The delegate beckoned to his secretary.
"Go through Mr. Beechtree's papers, Alvarez. I must be getting to theAssembly. It is past the hour.... At this afternoon's meeting ofCommittee 9, Mr. Beechtree, I will lay these suggestions of yoursbefore my colleagues, and we will consider what action shall be taken.You will be present. Meanwhile, Alvarez, have orders taken to thepolice to explore the subterranean passages. Mr. Beechtree, you willbe able to direct them to the means of entry, will you not."
"I shouldn't wonder," said Henry, "if they are being explored.Macdermott, from Ulster, and Garth of the _Morning Post_, were downthere last night. I don't know if they ever got out or not, but ifthey did they'll be doing something about it this morning. They take adifferent view from mine, I may say. Macdermott suspects Sinn Feiners(Ulster has only one idea, you know), and Garth agrees with him, butadds Bolsheviks and Germans. Neither of them would suspect eitherWilbraham or Kratzky without absolute proof. They do not likeWilbraham. No one does. But they are obsessed with their pet ideas."
"To every man his own scapegoat; it's the law of life. Now, Mr.Beechtree, I must leave you. We meet again at three o'clock. Here is acard of entry to the committee meeting. Till then I shall say nothingto any one. I will lay your story before the committee for what it isworth, but I do not, you must remember, commit myself to it. It ismerely a basis for inquiry, and the committee shall undoubtedly havethe facts before them. But care and discretion are advisable.... Yourpaper, I think, is not celebrated for its love either for the Leagueof Nations and its Secretariat, or of monarchist Russia, or ofarmament princes? We must be prepared for the imputation to you ofprejudice."
"It would be," Henry admitted, "not unjustified. My paper isprejudiced. So am I. To be prejudiced is the privilege of the thinkinghuman being. After all, we are not animals, to judge everything by itssmell and taste as it comes before us, irrespective of preconceivedtheories. The open mind is the empty mind. The pre-judgment is oftenthe deliberate and considered judgment, based on reason, whereas thepost-judgment is a hasty makeshift affair, based on the impressions ofthe moment. Fortunately, however, the two are apt, in the same mind,to concur----"
"Quite so, quite so." M. Croza, who was in a hurry, nodded affably butdecidedly, and Henry, who was apt, in the interests of discussion, toforget himself, left him.
40
Henry despatched straightway a long message to the _BritishBolshevist_, guarded in language but sinister in implication, andhinting that further developments and more definite revelations wereimminent. In the journalists' lobby he encountered Garth, who had alsobeen sending a message.
"Oh, hallo," said Garth, "so you got out all right. So did Macdermott.I had the devil of a time. I tried one exit that didn't work; musthave been bolted on the outside, I suppose. Anyhow, I hammered awayand nothing happened. Then I struck another avenue and came to anothertrap which gave after mighty efforts on my part, and I came up intothat book-shop which Burnley disappeared into, and which told thepolice so firmly that he left again in a few minutes. The trap washidden away under the counter. I didn't stop; I thought it probablywasn't healthy, so I unbolted the front door and crept off home tobed. First thing this morning I put the police on the track, andthey're getting busy now asking the bookseller questions and sendinggangs to work the catacombs. One thing I've discovered; that book-shopis a meeting-place for Bolshie refugees and German anarchists. Theymeet in the old chap's back parlour and do their plotting there andsend gold to the trade-unions."
"How do you know?" Henry asked, interested.
"Well, it's quite
obvious. Too busy to go into the evidence now. Imust look in at the Assembly and see what's doing...."
Henry perceived that the correspondent of the _Morning Post_ wasactuated, in the matter of Bolshevists, Germans, trade-unions, andgold, rather by a deliberate and considered pre-judgment than by thehasty and makeshift impressions of the moment, or, anyhow, that thetwo had in his mind concurred. He asked after Macdermott.
"Oh, Macdermott found Sinn Fein plots all over the place. He had ahair-raising time. He went miles and miles, he says, and came up atlast against a wall. There was no trap-door: it was merely acul-de-sac. So he retraced his steps and took a by-path, and emergedfinally in a brothel close to the cathedral. Of course, the advantageof a brothel is that it's alive and humming even at dead of night;anyhow it was morning by that time, so he had no difficulty in makinghimself heard. He couldn't get anything out of the people; they wereGerman Swiss, and pretended to be merely stupid. But they're beingsorted by the police this morning."
"And where do the Sinn Feiners come in?"
"Oh, I don't know. They meet there to plot, Macdermott said. Togetherwith Germans. Probably they've a bomb-cache in the tunnels too. Hetold O'Shane about it, and O'Shane said republicans would never makeuse of a disorderly house, not even for the best patriotic purposes.He's rather sick that he wasn't on to this catacombs business too;he'd have found Orange plots down there. I left them at it.... What'sgoing on within, Jefferson?"
"That damned little Greek holding forth on the importance of disarmingTurkey. We've just had Paraguay on the beauties of a world peace andthe peaceful influence of the South American republics."