The double traitorEdward Phillips Oppenheim


THE GORDON LESTER FORD
COLLECTION
FROM EMILY E. F. SKEEL
IN MEMORY OF
Roswell SKEEL, Jr.
AND THEIR FOUR PARENTS











THE NEW YORK
PUBLIC LIBRARY
Aeton, LENux AND
Tillº… Foundations
L
-
-
-


“Dear lady,” he assured her, “you repay me in one moment for all
the weariness of my exile.” Frontispiece. See page 63.


--


* - - - -


T H E DO U. BLE
T R A ITO R.
BY
E. PHILLIPS OPPENHEIM
-- - -
AUTHon of “THE vanished MEssengea,
of Monte cARLo,” Etc.
Mr. GREx
WITH FRONTISPIECE BY
CLARENCE F. UNDERWOOD
BOSTON
LITTLE, BROWN, AND COMPANY
1915


Copyright, 1915,
BY LITTLE, Baown, AND CoMPANY.
All rights reserved
-
Published, May, 1915
\
The colonial, Press


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR





THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
CHAPTER I
The woman leaned across the table towards her
companion.
“My friend,” she said, “when we first met — I
am ashamed, considering that I dine alone with you
to-night, to reflect how short a time ago — you spoke
of your removal here from Paris very much as though
it were a veritable exile. I told you then that there
might be surprises in store for you. This restaurant,
for instance! We both know our Paris, yet do we
lack anything here which you find at the Ritz or
Ciro’s?”
The young man looked around him appraisingly.
The two were dining at one of the newest and most
fashionable restaurants in Berlin. The room itself,
although a little sombre by reason of its oak panel-
ling, was relieved from absolute gloom by the light-
ness and elegance of its furniture and appointments,
the profusion of flowers, and the soft grey carpet, so
thickly piled that every sound was deadened. The
delicate strains of music came from an invisible
orchestra concealed behind a canopy of palms. The
head-waiters had the correct clerical air, half com-
* -
- * *


2 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
placent, half dignified. Among the other diners were
many beautiful women in marvellous toilettes. A
variety of uniforms, worn by the officers at different
tables, gave colour and distinction to a tout ensemble
with which even Norgate could find no fault.
“Germany has changed very much since I was
here as a boy,” he confessed. “One has heard of
the growing wealth of Berlin, but I must say that I
scarcely expected —”
He hesitated. His companion laughed softly at
his embarrassment.
“Do not forget,” she interrupted, “that I am
Austrian — Austrian, that is to say, with much Eng-
lish in my blood. What you say about Germans
does not greatly concern me.”
“Of course,” Norgate resumed, as he watched the
champagne poured into his glass, “one is too much
inclined to form one’s conclusions about a nation
from the types one meets travelling, and you know
what the Germans have done for Monte Carlo and
the Riviera — even, to a lesser extent, for Paris and
Rome. Wherever they have been, for the last few
years, they seem to have left the trail of the nouveaua,
riches. It is not only their clothes but their manners
and bearing which affront.”
The woman leaned her head for a moment against
the tips of her slim and beautifully cared for fingers.
She looked steadfastly across the table at her vis-à-
Wils.
“Now that you are here,” she said softly, “you
must forget those things. You are a diplomatist,
and it is for you, is it not, outwardly, at any rate, to


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 3
see only the good of the country in which your work
lies.”
Norgate flushed very slightly. His companion’s
words had savoured almost of a reproof.
“You are quite right,” he admitted. “I have
been here for a month, though, and you are the first
person to whom I have spoken like this. And you
yourself,” he pointed out, “encouraged me, did you
not, when you insisted upon your Austro-English
nationality?”
“You must not take me too seriously,” she begged,
smiling. “I spoke foolishly, perhaps, but only for
your good. You see, Mr. Francis Norgate, I am
just a little interested in you and your career.”
“And I, dear Baroness,” he replied, smiling across
at her, “am more than a little interested in — you.”
She unfurled her fan.
“I believe,” she sighed, “that you are going to
flirt with me.”
“I should enter into an unequal contest,” Norgate
asserted. “My methods would seem too clumsy,
because I should be too much in earnest.”
“Whatever the truth may be about your methods,”
she declared, “I rather like them, or else I should not
be risking my reputation in this still prudish city by
dining with you alone and without a chaperon.
Tell me a little about yourself. We have met three
times, is it not— once at the Embassy, once at the
Palace, and once when you paid me that call. How
old are you? Tell me about your people in Eng-
land, and where else you have served besides Paris?”
“I am thirty years old,” he replied. “I started


4 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
at Bukarest. From there I went to Rome. Then I
was second attaché at Paris, and finally, as you see,
here.”
“And your people — they are English, of
course?”
“Naturally,” he answered. “My mother died
when I was quite young, and my father when I was
at Eton. I have an estate in Hampshire which seems
to get on very well without me.”
“And you really care about your profession?
You have the real feeling for diplomacy?”
“I think there is nothing else like it in the world,”
he assured her.
“You may well say that,” she agreed enthusiasti-
cally. “I think you might almost add that there has
been no time in the history of Europe so fraught with
possibilities, so fascinating to study, as the pres-
ent.”
He looked at her keenly. It is the first instinct
of a young diplomatist to draw in his horns when a
beautiful young woman confesses herself interested
in his profession.
“You, too, think of these things, then?” he re-
marked.
She shrugged her shoulders.
“But naturally? What is there to do for a woman
but think? We cannot act, or rather, if we do, it is
in a very insignificant way. We are lookers-on at
most of the things in life worth doing.”
“I will spare you all the obvious retorts,” he said,
“if you will tell me why you are gazing into that
mirror so earnestly?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 5
“I was thinking,” she confessed, “what a re-
markably good-looking couple we were.”
He followed the direction of her eyes. He himself
was of a recognised type. His complexion was fair,
his face clean-shaven and strong almost to rugged-
ness. His mouth was firm, his nose thin and straight,
his grey eyes well-set. He was over six feet and
rather slim for his height. But if his type, though
attractive enough, was in its way ordinary, hers was
entirely unusual. She, too, was slim, but so far
from being tall, her figure was almost petite. Her
dark brown hair was arranged in perfectly plain
braids behind and with a slight fringe in front. Her
complexion was pale. Her features were almost
cameo-like in their delicacy and perfection, but any
suggestion of coldness was dissipated at once by the
extraordinary expressiveness of her mouth and the
softness of her deep blue eyes. Norgate looked from
the mirror into her face. There was a little smile
upon his lips, but he said nothing.
“Some day,” she said, “not in the restaurant here
but when we are alone and have time, I should so
much like to talk with you on really serious matters.”
“There is one serious matter,” he assured her,
“which I should like to discuss with you now or at
any time.”
She made a little grimace at him.
“Let it be now, then,” she suggested, leaning
across the table. “We will leave my sort of serious
things for another time. I am quite certain that I
know where your sort is going to lead us. You are
going to make love to me.”


6 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Do you mind?” he asked earnestly.
She became suddenly grave.
“Not yet,” she begged. “Let us talk and live
nonsense for a few more weeks. You see, I really
have not known you very long, have I, and this is a
very dangerous city for flirtations. At Court one
has to be so careful, and you know I am already con-
sidered far too much of a Bohemian here. I was even
given to understand, a little time ago, by a very
great lady, that my position was quite precari-
ous.”
“Does that — does anything matter if –”
“It is not of myself alone that I am thinking.
Everything matters to one in your profession,” she
reminded him pointedly.
“I believe,” he exclaimed, “that you think more
of my profession than you do of me!”
“Quite impossible,” she retorted mockingly.
“And yet, as I dare say you have already realised,
it is not only the things you say to our statesmen
here, and the reports you make, which count. It is
your daily life among the people of the nation to
which you are attached, the friends you make among
them, the hospitality you accept and offer, which has
all the time its subtle significance. Now I am not
sure, even, that I am a very good companion for you,
Mr. Francis Norgate.”
“You are a very bad one for my peace of mind,”
he assured her.
She shook her head. “You say those things much
too glibly,” she declared. “I am afraid that you
have served a very long apprenticeship.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 7
“If I have,” he replied, leaning a little across the
table, “it has been an apprenticeship only, a proba-
tionary period during which one struggles towards
the real thing.”
“You think you will know when you have found
it?” she murmured.
He drew a little breath. His voice even trembled
as he answered her. “I know now,” he said softly.
Their heads were almost touching. Suddenly she
drew apart. He glanced at her in some surprise,
conscious of an extraordinary change in her face, of
the half-uttered exclamation strangled upon her lips.
He turned his head and followed the direction of her
eyes. Three young men in the uniform of officers
had entered the room, and stood there as though look-
ing about for a table. Before them the little com-
pany of head-waiters had almost prostrated them-
selves. The manager, summoned in breathless haste,
had made a reverential approach.
“Who are these young men?” Norgate enquired.
His companion made no reply. Her fine, silky
eyebrows were drawn a little closer together. At
that moment the tallest of the three newcomers seemed
to recognise her. He strode at once towards their
table. Norgate, glancing up at his approach, was
simply conscious of the coming of a fair young man
of ordinary German type, who seemed to be in a re-
markably bad temper.
“So I find you here, Anna!”
The Baroness rose as though unwillingly to her
feet. She dropped the slightest of curtseys and re-
sumed her place.


8 THE DouBLE TRAITOR
“Your visit is a little unexpected, is it not, Karl?”
she remarked.
“Apparently!” the young man answered, with
an unpleasant laugh.
He turned and stared at Norgate, who returned his
regard with half-amused, half-impatient indiffer-
ence. The Baroness leaned forward eagerly.
“Will you permit me to present Mr. Francis Nor-
gate to you, Karl?”
Norgate, who had suddenly recognised the new-
comer, rose to his feet, bowed and remained standing.
The Prince's only reply to the introduction was a
frown.
“Kindly give me your seat,” he said imperatively.
“I will conclude your entertainment of the Baroness.”
For a moment there was a dead silence. In the
background several of the maitres d'hôtel had gath-
ered obsequiously around. For some reason or
other, every one seemed to be looking at Norgate as
though he were a criminal.
“Isn’t your request a little unusual, Prince?” he
remarked drily.
The colour in the young man's face became almost
purple.
“Did you hear what I said, sir?” he demanded.
“Do you know who I am?”
“Perfectly,” Norgate replied. “A prince who
apparently has not learnt how to behave himself in
a public place.”
The young man took a quick step forward. Nor-
gate’s fists were clenched and his eyes glittering.
The Baroness stepped between them.


Io THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
had disappeared. Then he looked back once more
into the restaurant and strolled across the brilliantly-
lit street towards the Embassy.


CHAPTER II
Norgate, during his month's stay in Berlin, had
already adopted regular habits. On the following
morning he was called at eight o'clock and rode for
two hours in the fashionable precincts of the city.
The latter portion of the time he spent looking in
vain for a familiar figure in a green riding-habit.
The Baroness, however, did not appear. At ten
o'clock Norgate returned to the Embassy, bathed and
breakfasted, and a little after eleven made his way
round to the business quarters. One of his fellow-
workers there glanced up and nodded at his arrival.
“Where’s the Chief?” Norgate enquired.
“Gone down to the Palace,” the other young man,
whose name was Ansell, replied; “telephoned for the
first thing this morning. Ghastly habit William has
of getting up at seven o’clock and suddenly remem-
bering that he wants to talk diplomacy. The Chief
will be furious all day now.”
Norgate lit a cigarette and began to open his
letters. Ansell, however, was in a discoursive mood.
He swung around from his desk and leaned back in
his chair.
“How can a man,” he demanded, “see a question
from the same point of view at seven o’clock in the
morning and seven o’clock in the evening? Abso-
lutely impossible, you know. That’s what’s the mat-


I2 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
ter with our versatile friend up yonder. He gets all
aroused over some scheme or other which comes to
him in the dead of night, hops out of bed before any
one civilised is awake, and rings up for ambassadors.
Then at night-time he becomes normal again and
takes everything back. The consequence is that this
place is a regular diplomatic see-saw. Settling down
in Berlin pretty well, aren’t you, Norgate?”
“Very nicely, thanks,” the latter replied.
“Dining alone with the Baroness von Haase!” his
junior continued. “A Court favourite, too! Never
been seen alone before except with her young prince-
ling. What honeyed words did you use, Lothario —”
“Oh, chuck it!” Norgate interrupted. “Tell me
about the Baroness von Haase! She is Austrian,
isn’t she?”
Ansell nodded.
“Related to the Hapsburgs themselves, I believe,”
he said. “Wery old family, anyhow. They say she
came to spend a season here because she was a little
too go-ahead for the ladies of Vienna. I must say
that I’ve never seen her out without a chaperon be-
fore, except with Prince Karl. They say he'd marry
her — morganatically, of course — if they’d let him,
and if the lady were willing. If you want to know
anything more about her, go into Gray's room.”
Norgate looked up from his letters.
“Why Gray's room? How does she come into his
department?”
Ansell shook his head.
“No idea. I fancy she is there, though.”
Norgate left the room a few minutes later, and,


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I3
strolling across the hall of the Embassy, made his
way to an apartment at the back of the house. It
was plainly furnished, there were bars across the
window, and three immense safes let into the wall.
An elderly gentleman, with gold-rimmed spectacles
and a very benevolent expression, was busy with
several books of reference before him, seated at a
desk. He raised his head at Norgate’s entrance.
“Good morning, Norgate,” he said.
“Good morning, sir,” Norgate replied.
“Anything in my way?”
Norgate shook his head.
“Chief’s gone to the Palace — no one knows why.
I just looked in because I met a woman the other day
whom Ansell says you know something about —
Baroness von Haase.”
“Well? »
“Is there anything to be told about her?” Nor-
gate asked bluntly. “I dined with her last night.”
“Then I don’t think I would again, if I were you,”
the other advised. “There is nothing against her,
but she is a great friend of certain members of the
Royal Family who are not very well disposed towards
us, and she is rather a brainy little person. They
use her a good deal, I believe, as a means of confiden-
tial communication between here and Vienna. She
has been back and forth three or four times lately,
without any apparent reason.”
Norgate stood with his hands in his pockets, frown-
ing slightly.
“Why, she's half an Englishwoman,” he remarked.
“She may be,” Mr. Gray admitted drily. “The


I4 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
other half’s Austrian all right, though. I can’t tell
you anything more about her, my dear fellow. All I
can say is that she is in my book, and so long as she
is there, you know it’s better for you youngsters to
keep away. Be off now. I am decoding a dispatch.”
Norgate retraced his steps to his own room.
Ansell glanced up from a mass of passports as he
entered.
“How's the Secret Service Department this morn-
ing?” he enquired.
“Old Gray seems much as usual,” Norgate grum-
bled. “One doesn’t get much out of him.”
“Chief wants you in his room,” Ansell announced.
“He’s just come in from the Palace, looking like
nothing on earth.” -
“Wants me?” Norgate muttered. “Righto: *
He went to the looking-glass, straightened his tie,
and made his way towards the Ambassador’s private
apartments. The latter was alone when he entered,
seated before his table. He was leaning back in his
chair, however, and apparently deep in thought. He
watched Norgate sternly as he crossed the room.
“Good morning, sir,” the latter said.
The Ambassador nodded.
“What have you been up to, Norgate?” he asked
abruptly.
“Nothing at all that I know of, sir,” was the
prompt reply.
“This afternoon,” the Ambassador continued
slowly, “I was to have taken you, as you know, to
the Palace to be received by the Kaiser. At seven
o'clock this morning I had a message. I have just


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I5
come from the Palace. The Kaiser has given me to
understand that your presence in Berlin is unwel-
come.”
“Good God!” Norgate exclaimed.
“Can you offer me any explanation?”
For a moment Norgate was speechless. Then he
recovered himself. He forgot altogether his habits
of restraint. There was an angry note in his tone.
“It’s that miserable young cub of a Prince Karl!”
he exclaimed. “Last night I was dining, sir, with
the Baroness von Haase at the Café de Berlin.”
“Alone?”
“Alone,” Norgate admitted. “It was not for me
to invite a chaperon if the lady did not choose to
bring one, was it, sir? As we were finishing dinner,
the Prince came in. He made a scene at our table
and ordered me to leave.”
“And you?” the Ambassador asked.
“I simply treated him as I would any other young
ass who forgot himself,” Norgate replied indignantly.
“I naturally refused to go, and the Baroness left the
place with me.”
“And you did not expect to hear of this again?”
“I honestly didn’t. I should have thought, for his
own sake, that the young man would have kept his
mouth shut. He was hopelessly in the wrong, and
he behaved like a common young bounder.”
The Ambassador shook his head slowly.
“Mr. Norgate,” he said, “I am very sorry for
you, but you are under a misapprehension shared by
many young men. You believe that there is a uni-
versal standard of manners and deportment, and a


I6 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
universal series of customs for all nations. You
have our English standard of manners in your mind,
manners which range from a ploughboy to a king,
and you seem to take it for granted that these are
also subscribed to in other countries. In my posi-
tion I do not wish to say too much, but let me tell you
that in Germany they are not. If a prince here
chooses to behave like a ploughboy, he is right where
the ploughboy would be wrong.”
There was a moment's silence. Norgate was look-
ing a little dazed.
“Then you mean to defend —” he began.
“Certainly not,” the Ambassador interrupted.
“I am not speaking to you as one of ourselves. I
am speaking as the representative of England in
Berlin. You are supposed to be studying diplomacy.
You have been guilty of a colossal blunder. You
have shown yourself absolutely ignorant of the ideals
and customs of the country in which you are. It is
perfectly correct for young Prince Karl to behave,
as you put it, like a bounder. The people expect it
of him. He conforms entirely to the standard ac-
cepted by the military aristocracy of Berlin. It is
you who have been in the wrong — diplomatically.”
“Then you mean, sir,” Norgate protested, “that
I should have taken it sitting down?”
“Most assuredly you should,” the Ambassador re-
plied, “unless you were willing to pay the price.
Your only fault — your personal fault, I mean —
that I can see is that it was a little indiscreet of you
to dine alone with a young woman for whom the
Prince is known to have a foolish passion. Diplo-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 17
matically, however, you have committed every fault
possible. I am very sorry, but I think that you had
better report in Downing Street as soon as possible.
The train leaves, I think, at three o’clock.”
Norgate for a moment was unable to speak or
move. He was struggling with a sort of blind fury.
“This is the end of me, then,” he muttered at last.
“I am to be disgraced because I have come to a city
of boors.”
“You are reprimanded and in a sense, no doubt,
punished,” the Ambassador explained calmly, “be-
cause you have come to — shall I accept your term?
— a city of boors and fail to adapt yourself. The
true diplomatist adapts himself wherever he may be.
My personal sympathies remain with you. I will do
what I can in my report.”
Norgate had recovered himself.
“I thank you very much, sir,” he said. “I shall
catch the three o’clock train.”
The Ambassador held out his hand. The inter-
view had finished. He permitted himself to speak
differently.
“I am very sorry indeed, Norgate, that this has
happened,” he declared. “We all have our trials
to bear in this city, and you have run up against one
of them rather before your time. I wish you good
luck, whatever may happen.”
Norgate clasped his Chief's hand and left the
apartment. Then he made his way to his rooms,
gave his orders and sent a messenger to secure his
seat in the train. Last of all he went to the tele-
phone. He rang up the number which had become


I8 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
already familiar to him, almost with reluctance. He
waited for the reply without any pleasurable antici-
pations. He was filled with a burning sense of re-
sentment, a feeling which extended even to the inno-
cent cause of it. Soon he heard her voice.
“That is Mr. Norgate, is it not?”
“Yes,” he replied. “I rang up to wish you
good-by.”
“Good-by! But you are going away, then?”
“I am sent away — dismissed!”
He heard her little exclamation of grief. Its com-
plete genuineness broke down a little the wall of his
anger.
“And it is my fault!” she exclaimed. “If only
I could do anything! Will you wait — please wait?
I will go to the Palace myself.”
His expostulation was almost a shock to her.
“Baroness,” he replied, “if I permitted your inter-
vention, I could never hold my head up in Berlin
again! In any case, I could not stay here. The
first thing I should do would be to quarrel with that
insufferable young cad who insulted us last night.
I am afraid, at the first opportunity, I should
tell —”
“Hush!” she interrupted. “Oh, please hush!
You must not talk like this, even over the telephone.
Cannot you understand that you are not in Eng-
land?”
“I am beginning to realise,” he answered gruffly,
“what it means not to be in a free country. I am
leaving by the three o'clock train, Baroness. Fare-
well | *


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I9
“But you must not go like this,” she pleaded.
“Come first and see me.”
“No! It will only mean more disgrace for you.
Besides — in any case, I have decided to go away
without seeing you again.”
Her voice was very soft. He found himself grip-
ping the pages of the telephone book which hung by
his side.
“But is that kind? Have I sinned, Mr. Francis
Norgate?”
“Of course not,” he answered, keeping his tone
level, almost indifferent. “I hope that we shall meet
again some day, but not in Berlin.”
There was a moment’s silence. He thought, even,
that she had gone away. Then her reply came back.
“So be it,” she murmured. “Not in Berlin. Au
revoir : **


CHAPTER III
Faithful to his insular prejudices, Norgate, on
finding that the other seat in his coupé was engaged,
started out to find the train attendant with a view to
changing his place. His errand, however, was in
vain. The train, it seemed, was crowded. He re-
turned to his compartment to find already installed
there one of the most complete and absolute types
of Germanism he had ever seen. A man in a light
grey suit, the waistcoat of which had apparently
abandoned its efforts to compass his girth, with a
broad, pink, good-humoured face, beardless and
bland, flaxen hair streaked here and there with grey,
was seated in the vacant place. He had with him a
portmanteau covered with a linen case, his boots were
a bright shade of yellow, his tie was of white satin
with a design of lavender flowers. A pair of black
kid gloves lay by his side. He welcomed Norgate
with the bland, broad smile of a fellow-passenger
whose one desire it is to make a lifelong friend of his
temporary companion.
“We have the compartment to ourselves, is it
not so? You are English?”
Some queer chance founded upon his ill-humour,
his disgust of Germany and all things in it, induced
Norgate to tell a deliberate falsehood.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 2I
“Sorry,” he replied in English. “I don’t speak
German.”
The man’s satisfaction was complete.
“But I — I speak the most wonderful English.
It pleases me always to speak English. I like to do
so. It is practice for me. We will talk English
together, you and I. These comic papers, they do
not amuse. And books in the train, they make one
giddy. What I like best is a companion and a bottle
of Rhine wine.”
“Personally,” Norgate confessed gruffly, “I like
to sleep.”
The other seemed a little taken aback but remained,
apparently, full of the conviction that his overtures
could be nothing but acceptable.
“It is well to sleep,” he agreed, “if one has worked
hard. Now I myself am a hard worker. My name
is Selingman. I manufacture crockery which I sell
in England. That is why I speak the English lan-
guage so wonderful. For the last three nights I
have been up reading reports of my English cus-
tomers, going through their purchases. Now it is
finished. I am well posted. I am off to sell crockery
in London, in Manchester, in Leeds, in Birmingham.
I have what the people want. They will receive me
with open arms, some of them even welcome me at
their houses. Thus it is that I look forward to my
business trip as a holiday.”
“Very pleasant, I’m sure,” Norgate remarked,
curling himself up in his corner. “Personally, I
can’t see why we can’t make our own crockery. I
get tired of seeing German goods in England.”


22 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Herr Selingman was apparently a trifle hurt, but
his efforts to make himself agreeable were indomi-
table.
“If you will,” he said, “I can explain why my
crockery sells in England where your own fails. For
one thing, then, I am cheaper. There is a system at
my works, the like of which is not known in England.
From the raw material to the finished article I can
produce forty per cent. cheaper than your makers,
and, mind you, that is not because I save in wages.
It is because of the system in the various departments.
I do not like to save in wages,” he went on. “I like
to see my people healthy and strong and happy. I
like to see them drink beer after work is over, and on
feast days and Sundays I like to see them sit in the
gardens and listen to the band, and maybe change
their beer for a bottle of wine. Industrially, Mr.
Englishman, ours is a happy country.”
“Well, I hope you won’t think I am rude,” Nor-
gate observed, “but from the little I have seen of it
I call it a beastly country, and if you don’t mind I
am going to sleep.”
Herr Selingman sat for several moments with his
mouth still open. Then he gave a little grunt.
There was not the slightest ill-humour in the ejacu-
lation or in his expression. He was simply pained.
“I am sorry if I have talked too much,” he said.
“I forgot that you, perhaps, are tired. You have
met with disappointments, maybe. I am sorry. I
will read now and not disturb you.”
For an hour or so Norgate tried in vain to sleep.
All this time the man opposite turned the pages of his


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 23
book with the utmost cautiousness, moved on tiptoe
once to reach down more papers, and held out his
finger to warn the train attendant who came with
some harmless question.
“The English gentleman,” Norgate heard him
whisper, “is tired. Let him sleep.”
Soon after five o’clock, Norgate gave it up. He
rose to his feet, stretched himself, and was welcomed
with a pleasant smile from his companion.
“You have had a refreshing nap,” the latter re-
marked, “and now, is it not so, you go to take a cup
of English tea?”
“You are quite right,” Norgate admitted. “Bet-
ter come with me.”
Herr Selingman smiled a smile of triumph. It was
the reward of geniality, this! He was forming a
new friendship !
“I come with great pleasure,” he decided, “only
while you drink the tea, I drink the coffee or some
beer. I will see. I like best the beer,” he explained,
turning sidewise to get out of the door, “but it is not
the best for my figure. I have a good conscience
and a good digestion, and I eat and drink much.
But it is good to be happy.”
They made their way down to the restaurant car
and seated themselves at a table together.
“You let me do the ordering,” Herr Selingman
insisted. “The man here, perhaps, does not speak
English. So! You will drink your tea with me,
sir. It is a great pleasure to me to entertain an
Englishman. I make many friends travelling. I
like to make friends. I remember them all, and some-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 25
able to gratify it. In any case, after his denial of
any knowledge of the German language, he could
scarcely lay claim to even the most indirect connec-
tion with the diplomatic service.
“Ah, well,” Herr Selingman declared, “opportuni-
ties will come. You have perhaps lost some post.
Well, there are others. I should not, I think, be
far away from the truth, sir, if I were to surmise
that you had held some sort of an official position?”
“Perhaps,” Norgate assented.
“That is interesting,” Herr Selingman continued.
“Now with the English of commerce I talk often, and
I know their views of me and my country. But some-
times I have fancied that among your official classes
those who are ever so slightly employed in Govern-
ment service, there is — I do not love the word, but
I must use it — a distrust of Germany and her peace-
loving propensities.”
“I have met many people,” Norgate admitted,
“who do not look upon Germany as a lover of
peace.”
“They should come and travel here,” Herr Seling-
man insisted eagerly. “Look out of the windows.
What do you see? Factory chimneys, furnaces
everywhere. And further on — what? Well-tilled
lands, clean, prosperous villages, a happy, domestic
people. I tell you that no man in the world is so
fond of his wife and children, his simple life, his simple
pleasures, as the German.”
“Very likely,” Norgate assented, “but if you look
out of the windows continually you will also see that
every station-master on the line wears a military uni-


26 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
form, that every few miles you see barracks. These
simple peasants you speak of carry themselves with a
different air from ours. I don’t know much about
it, but I should call it the effect of their military
training. I know nothing about politics. Very
likely yours is a nation of peace-loving men. As a
casual observer, I should call you more a nation of
soldiers.”
“But that,” Herr Selingman explained earnestly,
“is for defence only.”
“And your great standing army, your wonderful
artillery, your Zeppelins and your navy,” Norgate
asked, “are they for defence only?”
“Absolutely and entirely,” Herr Selingman de-
clared, with a new and ponderous gravity. “There
is nothing the most warlike German desires more
fervently than to keep the peace. We are strong
only because we desire peace, peace under which our
commerce may grow, and our wealth increase.”
“Well, it seems to me, then,” Norgate observed,
“that you’ve gone to a great deal of expense and
taken a great deal of trouble for nothing. I don’t
know much about these things, as I told you before,
but there is no nation in the world who wants to
attack Germany.”
Herr Selingman laid his finger upon his nose.
“That may be,” he said. “Yet there are many
who look at us with envious eyes. I am a good
German. I know what it is that we want. We want
peace, and to gain peace we need strength, and to be
strong we arm. That is everything. It will never
be Germany who clenches her fist, who draws down


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 27
the black clouds of war over Europe. It will never
be Germany, I tell you. Why, a war would ruin
half of us. What of my crockery? I sell it all in
England. Believe me, young gentleman, war exists
only in the brains of your sensational novelists. It
does not come into the world of real purpose.”
“Well, it’s very interesting to hear you say so,”
Norgate admitted. “I wish I could wholly agree
with you.” -
Herr Selingman caught him by the sleeve.
“You are just a little,” he confided, “just a little
suspicious, my young friend, you in your little island.
Perhaps it is because you live upon an island. You
do not expand. You have small thoughts. You
are not great like we in Germany, not broad, not deep.
But we will talk later of these things. I must tell
you about our Kaiser.”
Norgate opened his lips and closed them again.
“Presently,” he muttered. “See you later on.”
He strolled to his coupé, tried in vain to read,
walked up and down the length of the train, smoked
a cigarette, and returned to his compartment to find
Herr Selingman immersed in the study of many
documents.
“Records of my customers and my transactions,”
the latter announced blandly. “I have a great fond-
ness for detail. I know everything. I carry with
me particulars of everything. That is where we
Germans are so thorough. See, I place them now all
in my bag.”
He did so and locked it with great care.
“We go to dinner, is it not so?” he suggested.


28 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I suppose we may as well,” Norgate assented
indifferently.
They found places in the crowded restaurant car.
The manufacturer of crockery made a highly satis-
factory and important meal. Norgate, on the other
hand, ate little. Herr Selingman shook his head.
“My young English friend,” he declared, “all is
not well with you that you turn away from good
food. Come. Afterwards, over a cigar, you shall
tell me what troubles you have, and I will give you
sound advice. I have a very wide knowledge of life.
I have a way of seeing the truth, and I like to help
people.”
Norgate shook his head. “I am afraid,” he said,
“that my case is hopeless.”
“Presently we will see,” Herr Selingman con-
tinued, rubbing the window with his cuff. “We are
arrived, I think, at Lesel. Here will board the train
one of my agents. He will travel with us to the
next station. It is my way of doing business, this.
It is better than alighting and wasting a day in a
small town. You will not mind, perhaps,” he added,
“if I bring him into the carriage and talk? You do
not understand German, so it will not weary you.”
“Certainly not,” Norgate replied. “I shall prob-
ably drop off to sleep.”
“He will be in the train for less than an hour,”
Herr Selingman explained, “but I have many com-
petitors, and I like to talk in private. In here some
one might overhear.”
“How do you know that I am not an English
crockery manufacturer?” Norgate remarked.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 29
Herr Selingman laughed heartily. His stomach.
shook, and tears rolled down his eyes.
“That is good!” he exclaimed. “An English
crockery manufacturer! No, I do not think so! I
cannot see you with your sleeves turned up, walking
amongst the kilns. I cannot see you, even, study-
ing the designs for pots and basins.”
“Well, bring your man in whenever you want to,”
Norgate invited, as he turned away. “I can
promise, at least, that I shall not understand what
you are saying, and that I won’t sneak your designs.”
There was a queer little smile on Herr Selingman's
broad face. It almost seemed as though he had dis-
covered some hidden though unsuspected meaning in
the other's words.


CHAPTER IV
Norgate dozed fitfully as the train sped on through
the darkness. He woke once to find Herr Selingman
in close confabulation with his agent on the opposite
side of the compartment. They had a notebook be-
fore them and several papers spread out upon the
seat. Norgate, who was really weary, closed his
eyes again, and it seemed to him that he dreamed for
a few moments. Then suddenly he found himself
wide-awake. Although he remained motionless, the
words which Selingman had spoken to his companion
were throbbing in his ears.
“I do not doubt your industry, Meyer, but it is
your discretion which is sometimes at fault. These
plans of the forts of Liège — they might as well be
published in a magazine. We had them when they
were made. We have received copies of every altera-
tion. We know to a metre how far the guns will
carry, how many men are required to man them, what
stocks of ammunition are close at hand. Under-
stand, therefore, my friend, that the sight of these
carefully traced plans, which you hint to have ob-
tained at the risk of your life, excites me not at all.”
The other man’s reply was inaudible. In a mo-
ment or two Selingman spoke again.
“The information which I am lacking just at pres-
ent in your sphere of operations, is civilian in charac-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 3I
ter. Take Ghent, for instance. What I should like
here, what our records need at present, is a list of the
principal inhabitants with their approximate income,
and, summarising it all, the rateable value of the city.
With these bases it would be easy to fix a reasonable
indemnity.”
Norgate was wide-awake now. He was curled up
on his seat, underneath his rug, and though his eye-
lids had quivered with a momentary excitement, he
was careful to remain as near as possible motionless.
Again Selingman's agent spoke, this time more dis-
tinctly.
“The young man opposite,” he whispered. “He
is English, surely?”
“He is English indeed,” Selingman admitted, “but
he speaks no German. That I have ascertained.
Give me your best attention, Meyer. Here is again
an important commission for you. Within the next
few days, hire an automobile and visit the rising
country eastwards from Antwerp. At some spot
between six and eight miles from the city, on a slight
incline and commanding the River Scheldt, we desire
to purchase an acre of land for the erection of a
factory. You can say that we have purchased the
concession for making an American safety razor.
The land is wanted, and urgently. See to this your-
self and send plans and price to me in London. On
my return I shall call and inspect the sites and close
the bargain.”
“And the Antwerp forts?”
The other pursed his lips.
“Pooh! Was it not the glorious firm of Krupp


32 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
who fitted the guns there? Do you think the men
who undertook that task were idle? I tell you that
our plans of the Antwerp fortifications are more
carefully worked out in detail than the plans held by
the Belgians themselves. Here is good work for you
to do, friend Meyer. That and the particulars from
Brussels which you know of, will keep you busy until
we meet again.”
Herr Selingman began to collect his papers, but
was suddenly thrown back into his seat by the rock-
ing of the train, which came, a few moments later, to
a standstill. The sound of the opening of windows
from the other side of the corridor was heard all down
the train. Selingman and his companion followed
the general example, opening the door of the carriage
and the window opposite. A draught blew through
the compartment. One of the small folded slips of
paper from Selingman's pocket-book fluttered along
the seat. It came within reach of Norgate. Cau-
tiously he stretched out his fingers and gripped it.
In a moment it was in his pocket. He sat up in his
place. Selingman had turned around.
“Anything the matter?” Norgate asked sleepily.
“Not that one can gather,” Selingman replied.
“You have slept well. I am glad that our conversa-
tion has not disturbed you. This is my agent from
Brussels — Mr. Meyer. He sells our crockery in
that city — not so much as he should sell, perhaps,
but still he does his best.”
Mr. Meyer was a dark little man who wore gold-
rimmed spectacles, neat clothes, and a timid smile.
Norgate nodded to him good-humouredly.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 33
“You should get Herr Selingman to come oftener
and help you,” he remarked, yawning. “I can
imagine that he would be able to sell anything he
tried to.”
“It is what I often tell him, sir,” Mr. Meyer re-
plied, “but he is too fond of the English trade.”
“English money is no better than Belgian,” Herr
Selingman declared, “but there is more of it. Let us
go round to the restaurant car and drink a bottle of
wine together while the beds are prepared.”
“Certainly,” Norgate assented, stretching him-
self. “By-the-by, you had better look after your
papers there, Herr Selingman. Just as I woke up
I saw a small slip fluttering along the seat. You
made a most infernal draught by opening that door,
and I almost fancy it went out of the window.”
Herr Selingman's face became suddenly grave,
He went through the papers one by one, and finally
locked them up in his bag.
“Nothing missing, I hope?” Norgate asked.
Herr Selingman’s face was troubled.
“I am not sure,” he said. “It is my belief that I
had with me here a list of my agents in England. I
cannot find it. In a sense it is unimportant, yet if a
rival firm should obtain possession of it, there might
be trouble.”
Norgate looked out into the night and smiled.
“Considering that it is blowing half a hurricane
and commencing to rain,” he remarked, “the slip of
paper which I saw blowing about will be of no use
to any one when it is picked up.”
They called the attendant and ordered him to pre-


34 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
pare the sleeping berths. Then they made their way
down to the buffet car, and Herr Selingman ordered
a bottle of wine.
“We will drink,” he proposed, “to our three
countries. In our way we represent, I think, the in-
dustrial forces of the world — Belgium, England,
and Germany. We are the three countries who stand
for commerce and peace. We will drink prosperity
to ourselves and to each other.”
Norgate threw off, with apparent effort, his sleepi-
ness.
“What you have said about our three countries is
very true,” he remarked. “Perhaps as you, Mr.
Meyer, are a Belgian, and you, Mr. Selingman, know
Belgium well and have connections with it, you can
tell me one thing which has always puzzled me. Why
is it that Belgium, which is, as you say, a commercial
and peace-loving country, whose neutrality is abso-
lutely guaranteed by three of the greatest Powers in
Europe, should find it necessary to have spent such
large sums upon fortifications?”
“In which direction do you mean?” Selingman
asked, his eyes narrowing a little as he looked across
at Norgate.
“The forts of Liège and Namur,” Norgate re-
plied, “and Antwerp. I know nothing more about
it than I gathered from an article which I read not
long ago in a magazine. I had always looked upon
Belgium as being outside the pale of possible war-
fare, yet according to this article it seems to be
bristling to the teeth with armaments.”
Herr Selingman cleared his throat.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 35
“I will tell you the reason,” he said. “You have
come to the right man to know. I am a civilian, but
there are few things in connection with my country
which I do not understand. Mr. Meyer here, who is
a citizen of Brussels, will bear me out. It is the book
of a clever, intelligent, but misguided German writer
which has been responsible for Belgium's unrest—
Bernhardi's Germany and the Newt War — that and
articles of a similar tenor which preceded it.”
“Never read any of them,” Norgate remarked.
“It was erroneously supposed,” Selingman con-
tinued, “that Bernhardi represented the dominant
military opinion of Germany when he wrote that if
Germany ever again invaded France, it would be,
notwithstanding her guarantees of neutrality,
through Belgium. Bernhardi was a clever writer,
but he was a soldier, and soldiers do not understand
the world policy of a great nation such as Germany.
Germany will make no war upon any one, save com-
mercially. She will never again invade France ex-
cept under the bitterest provocation, and if ever she
should be driven to defend herself, it will assuredly
not be at the expense of her broken pledges. The
forts of Belgium might just as well be converted into
apple-orchards. They stand there to-day as the
proof of a certain lack of faith in Germany on the
part of Belgium, ministered to by that King of the
Jingoes, as you would say in English, Bernhardi.
How often it is that a nation suffers most from her
own patriots!”
“Herr Selingman has expressed the situation ad-
mirably,” Mr. Meyer declared approvingly.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 37
Norgate made his way back to his compartment,
undressed leisurely and climbed into the upper bunk.
For an hour or two he indulged in the fitful slumber
usually engendered by night travelling. At the
frontier he sat up and answered the stereotyped
questions. Herr Selingman, in sky-blue pyjamas,
and with face looking more beaming and florid than
ever, poked his head cheerfully out of the lower bunk.
“Awake?” he enquired.
“Very much so,” Norgate yawned.
“I have a surprise,” Herr Selingman announced.
- Wait.”
Almost as he spoke, an attendant arrived from the
buffet car with some soda-water. Herr Selingman's
head vanished for a moment or two. When he re-
appeared, he held two glasses in his hand.
“A whisky soda made in real English fashion,” he
proclaimed triumphantly. “A good nightcap, is it
not? Now we are off again.”
Norgate held out his hand for the tumbler.
“Awfully good of you,” he murmured.
“I myself,” Selingman continued, seated on the
edge of the bunk, with his legs far apart to steady
himself, “I myself enjoy a whisky soda. It will be
indeed a nightcap, so here goes.”
He drained his glass and set it down. Norgate
followed suit. Selingman’s hand came up for the
tumbler and Norgate was conscious of a curious
mixture of sensations which he had once experienced
before in the dentist’s chair. He could see Selingman
distinctly, and he fancied that he was watching him
closely, but the rest of the carriage had become chaos.


38 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
The sound of the locomotive was beating hard upon
the drums of his ears. His head fell back.
It was broad daylight when he awoke. Selingman,
fully dressed and looking more beaming than ever,
was seated upon a ridiculously inadequate camp-
stool upon the floor, smoking a cigarette. Norgate
stared at him stupidly.
“My young friend,” Herr Selingman declared im-
pressively, “if there is one thing in the world I envy
you, it is that capacity for sleep. You all have it,
you English. Your heads touch the pillow, and off
you go. Do you know that the man is waiting for
you to take your coffee?”
Norgate lay quite still for several moments. Be-
yond a slight headache, he was feeling as usual. He
leaned over the side of the bunk.
“How many whiskies and soda did I have last
night?” he asked.
Herr Selingman smiled.
“But one only,” he announced. “There was only
one to be had. I found a little whisky in my flask.
I remembered that I had an English travelling com-
panion, and I sent for some soda-water. You drank
yours, and you did sleep. I go now and sit in the
corridor while you dress.”
Norgate swung round in his bunk and slipped to
the floor.
“Jolly good of you,” he muttered sleepily, “but
it was very strong whisky.”


CHAPTER V
There was a babel of voices as the long train came
to a stand-still in the harbour station at Ostend.
Selingman, with characteristic forcefulness, pushed
his way down the narrow corridor, driving before him
passengers of less weight and pertinacity, until finally
he descended on to the platform itself. Norgate,
who had followed meekly in his wake, stood listening
for a moment to the confused stream of explanations.
He understood well enough what had happened, but
with Selingman at his elbow he assumed an air of
non-comprehension.
“It is extraordinary !” the latter exclaimed.
“Never do I choose this route but I am visited with
some mishap. You hear what has happened?”
“Fellow’s trying to tell me,” Norgate replied,
“but his Flemish is worse to understand than Ger-
man.”
“The steamer,” Selingman announced, “has met
with an accident entering the harbour. There will
be a delay of at least six hours — possibly more. It
is most annoying. My appointments in London have
been fixed for days.”
“Bad luck!” Norgate murmured.
“You do not seem much distressed.”
“Why should I be? I really came this way be-


40 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
cause I was not sure whether I would not stay here
for a few days.”
“That is all very well for you,” Selingman de-
clared, as they followed their porters into the shed.
“For me, I am a man of affairs. It is different.
My business goes by clockwork. All is regulated by
rule, with precision, with punctuality. Now I shall
be many hours behind my schedule. I shall be com-
pelled to alter my appointments — I, who pride my-
self always upon altering nothing. But behold!
One must make the best of things. What a sunshine!
What a sea! We shall meet, without a doubt, upon
the Plage. I have friends here. I must seek them.
Au revoir, my young travelling companion. To the
good fortune!”
They drifted apart, and Norgate, having made
arrangements about his luggage, strolled through the
town and on to the promenade. It was early for the
full season at Ostend, but the sands were already
crowded with an immense throng of children and
holiday-makers. The hotels were all open, and
streams of people were passing back and forth along
the front. Norgate, who had no wish to meet
acquaintances, passed the first period of his enforced
wait a little wearily. He took a taxicab and drove
as far as Knocke. Here he strolled across the links
and threw himself down finally amongst a little wave
of sandy hillocks close to the sea. The silence, and
some remains of the sleepiness of the previous night,
soon began to have their natural effect. He closed
his eyes and began to doze. When he awoke, curi-
ously enough, it was a familiar voice which first fell


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 4I
upon his ears. He turned his head cautiously.
Seated not a dozen yards away from him was a tall,
thin man with a bag of golf clubs by his side. He
was listening with an air of engrossed attention to
his companion's impressive remarks. Norgate, rais-
ing himself upon his elbow, no longer had any doubts.
The man stretched upon his back on the sand, partly
hidden from sight by a little grass-grown undulation,
was his late travelling companion.
“You do well, my dear Marquis, believe me!” the
latter exclaimed. “Property in Belgium is valuable
to-day. Take my advice. Sell. There are so
many places where one may live, where the climate is
better for a man of your constitution.”
“That is all very well,” his companion replied
querulously, “but remember that Belgium, after all,
is my country. My château and estates came to me
by inheritance. Notwithstanding the frequent inter-
marriages of my family with the aristocracy of your
country, I am still a Belgian.”
“Ah! but, my dear friend,” Selingman protested,
“you are more than a Belgian, more than a man of
local nationality. You are a citizen of the world of
intelligence. You are able to see the truth. The
days are coming when small states may exist no
longer without the all-protecting arm of a more pow-
erful country. I say no more than this. The posi-
tion of Belgium is artificial. Of her own will, or of
necessity, she must soon become merged in the on-
ward flow of mightier nations.”
“What about Holland, then?”
“Holland, too,” Selingman continued, “knows the


42 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
truth. She knows very well that the limit of her
days as an independent kingdom is almost reached.
The Power which has absorbed the states of Prussia
into one mighty empire, pauses only to take breath.
There are many signs —”
“But, my worthy friend,” the other man inter-
rupted irritably, “you must take into consideration
the fact that Belgium is in a different position. Our
existence as a separate kingdom might certainly be
threatened by Germany, but all that has been fore-
seen. Our neutrality is guaranteed. Your country
has pledged its honour to maintain it, side by side
with France and England. What have we to fear,
then?”
“You have to fear, Marquis,” Selingman replied
ponderously, “the inevitable laws which direct the
progress of nations. Treaties solemnly subscribed to
in one generation become worthless as time passes
and conditions change.”
“But I do not understand you there!” the other
man exclaimed. “What you say sounds to me like a
reflection upon the honour of your country. Do you
mean to insinuate that she would possibly — that she
would ever for a moment contemplate breaking her
pledged and sealed word?”
“My friend,” Selingman pronounced drily, “the
path of honour and glory, the onward progress of a
mighty, struggling nation, carrying in its hand cul-
ture and civilisation, might demand even such a sacri-
fice. Germany recognises, is profoundly imbued with
the splendour of her own ideals, the matchlessness
of her own culture. She feels justified in spreading


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 43
herself out wherever she can find an outlet — at any
cost, mind, because the end must be good.”
There was a moment's silence. Then the tall man
stood upright.
“If you came out to find me, my friend Selingman,
to bring me this warning, I suppose I should consider
myself your debtor. As a matter of fact, I do not.
You have inspired me with nameless misgivings.
Your voice sounds in my ears like the voice of an
ugly fate. I am, as you have often reminded me,
half German, and I have shown my friendship for
Germany many times. Unlike most of the aristoc-
racy of my country, I look more often northwards
than towards the south. But I tell you frankly that
there are limits to my Germanism. I will play no
more golf. I will walk with you to the club-house.”
“All that I have to say,” Selingman went on, “is
not yet said. This opportunity of meeting you is
too precious to be wasted. Come. As we walk there
are certain questions I wish to put to you.”
They passed within a few feet of where Norgate
was lying. He closed his eyes and held his breath.
It was not until their figures were almost specks in
the distance that he rose cautiously to his feet. He
made his way back to the club-house by another
angle, gained his taxicab unobserved, and drove back
to Ostend.
Towards evening Norgate strolled into one of the
cosmopolitan bars at the back of the Casino. The
first person he saw as he handed over his hat to a
waiter, was Selingman, spread out upon a cushioned


44 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
seat with a young lady upon either side of him. He
at once summoned Norgate to his table.
“An apéritif,” he insisted. “Come, you must not
refuse me. In two hours we start. We tear our-
selves away from this wonderful atmosphere. In
atmosphere, mademoiselle,” he added, bowing to the
right and the left, “all is included.”
“It is not,” Norgate admitted, “an invitation to
be disregarded. On the other hand, I have already
an appetite.”
Selingman thundered out an order.
“Here,” he remarked, “we dwell for a few brief
moments in Bohemia. I do not introduce you. You
sit down and join us. You are one of us. That you
speak only English counts for nothing. Mademoi-
selle Alice here is American. Now tell us at once,
how have you spent this afternoon? You have
bathed, perhaps, or walked upon the sands?”
Norgate was on the point of speaking of his ex-
cursion to Knocke but was conscious of Selingman's
curiously intent gaze. The spirit of duplicity seemed
to grow upon him.
“I walked for a little way,” he said. “After-
wards I lay upon the sands and slept. When I found
that the steamer was still further delayed, I had a
bath. That was half an hour ago. I asked a man
whom I met on the promenade where one might dine
in travelling clothes, lightly but well, and he sent me *
here — the Bar de Londres — and here, for my good
fortune, I am.”
“It is a pity that monsieur does not speak
French,” one of Selingman's companions murmured.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 45
“But, mademoiselle,” Norgate protested, “I have
spoken French all my life. Herr Selingman here
has misunderstood me. It is German of which I am
ignorant.”
The young lady, who immediately introduced her-
self as Mademoiselle Henriette, passed her arm
through Selingman's.
“We dine here all together, my friend, is it not
so?” she begged. “He will not be in the way, and
for myself, I am triste. You talk all the time to
Mademoiselle l’Américaine, perhaps because she is
the friend of some one in whom you are interested.
But for me, it is dull. Monsieur l’Anglais shall talk
with me, and you may hear all the secrets that Alice
has to tell. We,” she murmured, looking up at
Norgate, “will speak of other things, is it not
so?”
For a moment Selingman hesitated. Norgate
would have moved on with a little farewell nod, but
Selingman's companions were insistent.
“It shall be a partie carrée,” they both declared,
almost in unison.
“You need have no fear,” Mademoiselle Henriette
continued. “I will talk all the time to monsieur.
He shall tell me his name, and we shall be very great
friends. I am not interested in, the things of which
they talk, those others. You shall tell me of Lon-
don, monsieur, and how you live there.”
“Join us, by all means,” Selingman invited.
“On condition that you dine with me,” Norgate
insisted, as he took up the menu.
“Impossible!” Selingman declared firmly.


46 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Oh! it matters nothing,” Mademoiselle Henriette
exclaimed, “so long as we dine.”
“So long,” Mademoiselle Alice intervened, “as we
have this brief glimpse of Mr. Selingman, let us make
the best of it. We see him only because of a con-
tretemps. I think we must be very nice to him and
persuade him to take us to London to-night.”
Selingman's shake of the head was final.
“Dear young ladies,” he said, “it was delightful
to find you here. I came upon the chance, I admit,
but who in Ostend would not be here between six and
eight? We dine, we walk down to the quay, and if
you will, you shall wave your hands and wish us bon
voyage, but London just now is triste. It is here
you may live the life the bon Dieu sends, where the
sun shines all the time and the sea laps the sands like
a great blue lake, and you, mademoiselle, can wear
those wonderful costumes and charm all hearts.
There is nothing like that for you in London.”
They ordered dinner and walked afterwards down
to the quay. Mademoiselle Henriette lingered behind
with Norgate.
“Let them go on,” she whispered. “They have
much to talk about. It is but a short distance, and
your steamer will not start before ten. We can
walk slowly and listen to the music. You are not in
a hurry, monsieur, to depart? Your stay here is
too short already.”
Norgate’s reply, although gallant enough, was a
little vague. He was watching Selingman with his
companion. They were talking together with un-
doubted seriousness.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 47
“Who is Mr. Selingman?” he enquired. “I know
him only as a travelling companion.”
Mademoiselle Henriette extended her hands. She
shrugged her little shoulders and looked with wide-
open eyes up into her companion’s grave face.
“But who, indeed, can answer that question?” she
exclaimed. “Twice he has been here for flying visits.
Once Alice has been to see him in Berlin. He is, I
believe, a very wealthy manufacturer there. He
crosses often to England. He has money, and he is
always gay.”
“And Mademoiselle Alice?”
“Who knows?” was the somewhat pointless reply.
“She came from America. She arrived here this
season with Monsieur le Général.”
“What General?” Norgate asked. “A Bel-
gian?”
“But no,” his companion corrected. “All the
world knows that Alice is the friend of General le
Foys, chief of the staff in Paris. He is a very great
soldier. He spends eleven months working and one
month here.”
“And she is also,” Norgate observed meditatively,
“the friend of Herr Selingman. Tell me, mademoi-
selle, what do you suppose those two are talking
of now? See how close their heads are together.
I don’t think that Herr Selingman is a Don
Juan.”
“They speak, perhaps, of serious matters,” his
companion surmised, “but who can tell? Besides,
is it for us to waste our few moments wondering?
You will come back to Ostend, monsieur?”


48 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Norgate looked back at the streaming curve of
lights flashing across the dark waters.
“One never knows,” he answered.
“That is what Monsieur Selingman himself says,”
she remarked, with a little sigh. “‘Enjoy your
Ostend to-day, my little ones,” he said, when he first
met us this evening. ‘ One never knows how long
these days will last.” So, monsieur, we must indeed
part here?”
They had all come to a standstill at the gangway
of the steamer. Selingman had apparently finished
his conversation with his companion. He hurried
Norgate off, and they waved their hands from the
deck as a few minutes later the steamer glided away.
“A most delightful interlude,” Selingman declared.
“I have thoroughly enjoyed these few hours. I trust
that every time this steamer meets with a little acci-
dent, it will be at this time of the year and when I am
on my way to England.”
“You seem to have friends everywhere,” Norgate
observed, as he lit a cigar.
“Young ladies, yes,” Selingman admitted. “It
chanced that they were both well-known to me. But
who else?”
Norgate made no reply. He felt that his com-
panion was watching him.
“It is something,” he remarked, “to find charming
young ladies in a strange place to dine with one.”
Selingman smiled broadly.
“If we travelled together often, my young friend,”
he said, “you would discover that I have friends
everywhere. If I have nothing else to do, I go out


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 49
and make a friend. Then, when I revisit that place,
it loses its coldness. There is some one there to wel-
come me, some one who is glad to see me again.
Look steadily in that direction, a few points to the
left of the bows. In two hours’ time you will see the
lights of your country. I have friends there, too,
who will welcome me. Meantime, I go below to sleep.
You have a cabin?”
Norgate shook his head.
“I shall doze on deck for a little time,” he said.
“It is too wonderful a night to go below.”
“It is well for me that it is calm,” Selingman
acknowledged. “I do not love the sea. Shall we
part for a little time? If we meet not at Dover,
then in London, my young friend. London is the
greatest city in the world, but it is the smallest place
in Europe. One cannot move in the places one knows
of without meeting one’s friends.”
“Until we meet in London, then,” Norgate ob-
served, as he settled himself down in his chair.


CHAPTER VI
Norgate spent an utterly fruitless morning on the
day after his arrival in London. After a lengthy
but entirely unsatisfactory visit to the Foreign Office,
he presented himself soon after midday at Scotland
Yard."
“I should like,” he announced, “to see the Chief
Commissioner of the Police.”
The official to whom he addressed his enquiry eyed
him tolerantly.
“Have you, by any chance, an appointment?” he
asked.
“None,” Norgate admitted. “I only arrived
from the Continent this morning.”
The policeman shook his head slowly.
“It is quite impossible, sir,” he said, “to see Sir
Philip without an appointment. Your best course
would be to write and state your business, and his
secretary will then fix a time for you to call.”
“Very much obliged to you, I’m sure,” Norgate
replied. “However, my business is urgent, and if I
can’t see Sir Philip Morse, I will see some one else in
authority.”
Norgate was regaled with a copy of The Times and
a seat in a barely-furnished waiting-room. In about
twenty minutes he was told that a Mr. Tyritt would
see him, and was promptly shown into the presence


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 5.I
of that gentleman. Mr. Tyritt was a burly and
black-bearded person of something more than middle-
age. He glanced down at Norgate's card in a some-
what puzzled manner and motioned him to a seat.
“What can I do for you, sir?” he enquired. “Sir
Philip is very much engaged for the next few days,
but perhaps you can tell me your business?”
“I have just arrived from Berlin,” Norgate ex-
plained. “Would you care to possess a complete
list of German spies in this country?”
Mr. Tyritt's face was not one capable of showing
the most profound emotion. Nevertheless, he seemed
a little taken aback.
“A list of German spies?” he repeated. “Dear
me, that sounds very interesting!”
He took up Norgate’s card and glanced at it.
The action was, in its way, significant.
“You probably don’t know who I am,” Norgate
continued. “I have been in the Diplomatic Service
for eight years. Until a few days ago, I was at-
tached to the Embassy in Berlin.”
Mr. Tyritt was somewhat impressed by the state-
ment.
“Have you any objection to telling me how you
became possessed of this information?”
“None whatever,” was the prompt reply. “You
shall hear the whole story.”
Norgate told him, as briefly as possible, of his
meeting with Selingman, their conversation, and the
subsequent happenings, including the interview which
he had overheard on the golf links at Knocke. When
he had finished, there was a brief silence.


52 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Sounds rather like a page out of a novel, doesn’t
it, Mr. Norgate?” the police official remarked at
last.
“It may,” Norgate assented drily. “I can’t help
what it sounds like. It happens to be the exact
truth.”
“I do not for a moment doubt it,” the other de-
clared politely. “I believe, indeed, that there are a
large number of Germans working in this country
who are continually collecting and forwarding to
Berlin commercial and political reports. Speaking
on behalf of my department, however, Mr. Norgate,”
he went on, “this is briefly our position. In the
neighbourhood of our naval bases, our dockyards, our
military ačroplane sheds, and in other directions
which I need not specify, we keep the most scrupulous
and exacting watch. We even, as of course you are
aware, employ decoy spies ourselves, who work in
conjunction with our friends at Whitehall. Our
system is a rigorous one and our supervision of it un-
ceasing. But — and this is a big “ but,” Mr. Nor-
gate—in other directions — so far as regards the
country generally, that is to say — we do not take
the subject of German spies seriously. I may almost
say that we have no anxiety concerning their capac-
ity for mischief.”
“Those are the views of your department?” Nor-
gate asked.
“So far as I may be said to represent it, they
are,” Mr. Tyritt assented. “I will venture to say
that there are many thousands of letters a year which
leave this country, addressed to Germany, purport-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 53
ing to contain information of the most important
nature, which might just as well be published in the
newspapers. We ought to know, because at differ-
ent times we have opened a good many of them.”
“Forgive me if I press this point,” Norgate
begged. “Do you consider that because a vast
amount of useless information is naturally sent, that
fact lessens the danger as a whole? If only one let-
ter in a thousand contains vital information, isn’t
that sufficient to raise the subject to a more serious
level?"
Mr. Tyritt crossed his legs. His tone still indi-
cated the slight tolerance of the man convinced be-
forehand of the soundness of his position.
“For the last twelve years,” he announced,—
“ever since I came into office, in fact, this bogey
of German spies has been costing the nation some-
thing like fifty thousand a year. It is only lately
that we have come to take that broader view of the
situation which I am endeavouring to — to — may I
say enunciate? Germans over in this country, espe-
cially those in comparatively menial positions, such
as barbers and waiters, are necessary to us industri-
ally. So long as they earn their living reputably,
conform to our laws, and pay our taxes, they are
welcome here. We do not wish to unnecessarily dis-
turb them. We wish instead to offer them the full
protection of the country in which they have chosen
to do productive work.”
“Very interesting,” Norgate remarked. “I have
heard this point of view before. Once I thought it
common sense. To-day I think it academic piffle.


54 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
If we leave the Germans engaged in the inland towns
alone for a moment, do you realise, I wonder, that
there isn’t any seaport in England that hasn’t its
sprinkling of Germans engaged in the occupations of
which you speak?”
“And in a general way,” Mr. Tyritt assented,
smiling, “they are perfectly welcome to write home
to their friends and relations each week and tell them
everything they see happening about them, every-
thing they know about us.”
Norgate rose reluctantly to his feet.
“I won’t trouble you any longer,” he decided. “I
presume that if I make a few investigations on my
own account, and bring you absolute proof that any
one of these people whose names are upon my list are
in traitorous communication with Germany, you will
view the matter differently?”
“Without a doubt,” Mr. Tyritt promised. “Is
that your list? Will you allow me to glance through
it? »
“I brought it here to leave in your hands,” Nor-
gate replied, passing it over. “Your attitude,
however, seems to render that course useless.”
Mr. Tyritt adjusted his eyeglasses and glanced
benevolently at the document. A sharp ejaculation
broke from his lips. As his eyes wandered down-
wards, his first expression of incredulity gave way to
one of suppressed amusement.
“Why, Mr. Norgate,” he exclaimed, as he laid it
down, “do you mean to seriously accuse these people
of being engaged in any sort of league against us?”
“Most certainly I do,” Norgate insisted.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 55
“But the thing is ridiculous!” Mr. Tyritt de-
clared. “There are names here of princes, of bank-
ers, of society women, many of them wholly and en-
tirely English, some of them household names. You
expect me to believe that these people are all linked
together in what amounts to a conspiracy to further
the cause of Germany at the expense of the country
in which they live, to which they belong?”
Norgate picked up his hat.
“I expect you to believe nothing, Mr. Tyritt,” he
said drily. “Sorry I troubled you.”
“Not at all,” Mr. Tyritt protested, the slight irri-
tation passing from his manner. “Such a visit as
yours is an agreeable break in my routine work. I
feel as though I might be a character in a great mod-
ern romance. The names of your amateur criminals
are still tingling in my memory.”
Norgate turned back from the door.
“Remember them, if you can, Mr. Tyritt,” he ad-
vised. “You may have cause to, some day.”


CHAPTER VII
Norgate sat, the following afternoon, upon the
leather-stuffed fender of a fashionable mixed bridge
club in the neighbourhood of Berkeley Square, ex-
changing greetings with such of the members as were
disposed to find time for social amenities. A
smartly-dressed woman of dark complexion and
slightly foreign appearance, who had just cut out of
a rubber, came over and seated herself by his side.
She took a cigarette from her case and accepted a
match from Norgate.
“So you are really back again!” she murmured.
“It scarcely seems possible.”
“I am just beginning to realise it myself,” he re-
plied. “You haven’t altered, Bertha.”
“My dear man,” she protested, “you did not ex-
pect me to age in a month, did you? It can scarcely
be more than that since you left for Berlin. Are
you not back again sooner than you expected?”
Norgate nodded.
“Very much sooner,” he admitted. “I came in
for some unexpected leave, which I haven’t the
slightest intention of spending abroad, so here I am.”
“Not, apparently, in love with Berlin,” the lady,
whose name was Mrs. Paston Benedek, remarked.
Norgate’s air of complete candour was very well
assumed.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 57
“I shall never be a success as a diplomatist,” he
confessed. “When I dislike a place or a person,
every one knows it. I hated Berlin. I hate the
thought of going back again.”
The woman by his side smiled enigmatically.
“Perhaps,” she murmured, “you may get an ex-
change.”
“Perhaps,” Norgate assented. “Meanwhile, even
a month away from London seems to have brought a
fresh set of people here. Who is the tall, thin young
man with the sunburnt face? He seems familiar,
somehow, but I can’t place him.”
“He is a sailor,” she told him. “Captain Bar-
ing his name is.”
“Friend of yours?”
She looked at him sidewise.
“Why do you ask?”
“Jealousy,” Norgate sighed, “makes one observ-
ant. You were lunching with him in the Carlton
Grill. You came in with him to the club this after-
noon.”
“Sherlock Holmes | * she murmured. “There are
other men in the club with whom I lunch — even
dine.”
Norgate glanced across the room. Baring was
playing bridge at a table close at hand, but his at-
tention seemed to be abstracted. He looked often
towards where Mrs. Benedek sat. There was a rest-
lessness about his manner scarcely in keeping with the
rest of his appearance.
“One misses a great deal,” Norgate regretted,
“through being only an occasional visitor here.”


58 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“As, for instance?”
“The privilege of being one of those fortunate
few.”
She laughed at him. Her eyes were full of chal-
lenge. She leaned a little closer and whispered in his
ear: “There is still a vacant place.”
“For to-night or to-morrow?” he asked eagerly.
“For to-morrow,” she replied. “You may tele-
phone — 3702 Mayfair — at ten o’clock.”
He scribbled down the number. Then he put his
pocket-book away with a sigh.
“I’m afraid you are treating that poor sailor-man
badly,” he declared.
“Sometimes,” she confided, “he bores me. He is
so very much in earnest. Tell me about Berlin and
your work there?”
“I didn’t take to Germany,” Norgate confessed,
“and Germany didn’t take to me. Between ourselves
— I shouldn’t like another soul in the club to know
it — I think it is very doubtful if I go back there.”
“That little contretemps with the Prince,” she
murmured under her breath.
He stiffened at once.
“But how do you know of it?”
She bit her lip. For a moment a frown of annoy-
ance clouded her face. She had said more than she
intended.
“I have correspondents in Berlin,” she explained.
“They tell me of everything. I have a friend, in
fact, who was in the restaurant that night.”
“What a coincidence!” he exclaimed.
She nodded and selected a fresh cigarette.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 59
“Isn’t it! But that table is up. I promised to
cut in there. Captain Baring likes me to play at the
same table, and he is here for such a short time that
one tries to be kind. It is indeed kindness,” she
added, taking up her gold purse and belongings, “for
he plays so badly.”
She moved towards the table. It happened to be
Baring who cut out, and he and Norgate drifted to-
gether. They exchanged a few remarks.
“I met you at Marseilles once,” Norgate reminded
him. “You were with the Mediterranean Squadron,
commanding the Leicester, I believe.”
“Thought I’d seen you somewhere before,” was the
prompt acknowledgment. “You’re in the Diplo-
matic Service, aren’t you?”
Norgate admitted the fact and suggested a drink.
The two men settled down to exchange confidences
over a whisky and soda. Baring looked around him
with some disapprobation.
“I can’t really stick this place,” he asserted. “If
it weren’t for — for some of the people here, I’d
never come inside the doors. It’s a rotten way of
spending one's time. You play, I suppose?”
“Oh, yes, I play,” Norgate admitted, “but I
rather agree with you. How wonderfully well Mrs.
Benedek is looking, isn’t she?”
Baring withdrew his admiring eyes from her vicin-
ity.
“Prettiest and smartest woman in London,” he
declared.
“By-the-by, is she English?” Norgate asked.
“A mixture of French, Italian, and German, I


60 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
believe,” Baring replied. “Her husband is Benedek
the painter, you know.”
“I’ve heard of him,” Norgate assented. “What
are you doing now?”
“I’ve had a job up in town for a week or so, at the
Admiralty,” Baring explained. “We are examining
the plans of a new — but you wouldn’t be interested in
that.”
“I’m interested in anything naval,” Norgate as-
sured him.
“In any case, it isn’t my job to talk about it,”
Baring continued apologetically. “We’ve just got
a lot of fresh regulations out. Any one would think
we were going to war to-morrow.”
“I suppose war isn’t such an impossible event,”
Norgate remarked. “They all say that the Ger-
mans are dying to have a go at you fellows.”
Baring grinned.
“They wouldn’t have a dog’s chance,” he declared.
“That’s the only drawback of having so strong a
navy. We don’t stand any chance of getting a
fight.”
“You’ll have all you can do to keep up, judging
by the way they talk in Germany,” Norgate observed.
“Are you just home from there?”
Norgate nodded. “I am at the Embassy in Ber-
lin, or rather I have been,” he replied. “I am just
home on six months’ leave.”
“And that’s your real impression?” Baring en-
quired eagerly. “You really think that they mean
to have a go at us?”
“I think there’ll be a war soon,” Norgate con-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 6I
fessed. “It probably won’t commence at sea, but
you’ll have to do your little lot, without a doubt.”
Baring gazed across the room. There was a hard
light in his eyes.
“Sounds beastly, I suppose,” he muttered, “but
I wish to God it would come! A war would give us
all a shaking up — put us in our right places. We
all seem to go on drifting any way now. The
Services are all right when there’s a bit of a scrap
going sometimes, but there’s a nasty sort of feeling
of dry rot about them, when year after year all your
preparations end in the smoke of a sham fight. Now
I am on this beastly land job — but there, I mustn't
bother you with my grumblings.”
“I am interested,” Norgate assured him. “Did
you say you were considering something new?”
Baring nodded. -
“Plans of a new submarine,” he confided.
“There’s no harm in telling you as much as that.”
Mrs. Benedek, who was dummy for the moment,
strolled over to them.
“I am not sure,” she murmured, “whether I like
the expression you have brought back from Germany
with you, Mr. Norgate.”
Norgate smiled. “Have I really acquired the cor-
rect diplomatic air?” he asked. “I can assure you
that it is an accident — or perhaps I am imitative.”
“You have acquired,” she complained, “an air of
unnatural reserve. You seem as though you had
found some problem in life so weighty that you could
not lose sight of it even for a moment. Ah!”
The glass-topped door had been flung wide open


62 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
with an unusual flourish. A barely perceptible start
escaped Norgate. It was indeed an unexpected ap-
pearance, this! Dressed with a perfect regard to the
latest London fashion, with his hair smoothly brushed
and a pearl pin in his black satin tie, Herr Selingman
stood upon the threshold, beaming upon them.


CHAPTER VIII
Selingman had the air of a man who returns after
a long absence to some familiar spot where he expects
to find friends and where his welcome is assured.
Mrs. Paston Benedek slipped from her place upon
the cushioned fender and held out both her hands.
“Ah, it is really you!” she exclaimed. “Wel-
come, dear friend! For days I have wondered
what it was in this place which one missed all the
time. Now I know.”
Selingman took the little outstretched hands and
raised them to his lips.
“Dear lady,” he assured her, “you repay me in
one moment for all the weariness of my exile.”
She turned towards her companion.
“Captain Baring,” she begged, “please ring the
bell. Mr. Selingman and I always drink a toast to-
gether the moment he first arrives to pay us one of
his too rare visits. Thank you! You know Captain
Baring, don’t you, Mr. Selingman? This is another
friend of mine whom I think that you have not met —
Mr. Francis Norgate, Mr. Selingman. Mr. Norgate
has just arrived from Berlin, too.”
For a single moment the newcomer seemed to lose
his Cheeryble-like expression. The glance which he
flashed upon Norgate contained other elements be-
sides those of polite pleasure. He was himself again,


64 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
however, almost instantly. He grasped his new ac-
quaintance by the hand.
“Mr. Norgate and I are already old friends,” he
insisted. “We occupied the same coupé coming
from Berlin and drank a bottle of wine together in
the buffet.”
Mrs. Benedek threw back her head and laughed,
a familiar gesture which her enemies declared was in
some way associated with the dazzling whiteness of
her teeth.
“And now,” she exclaimed, “you find that you
belong to the same bridge club. What a coinci-
dence!”
“It is rather surprising, I must admit,” Norgate
assented. “Mr. Selingman and I discussed many
things last night, but we did not speak of bridge.
In fact, from the tone of our conversation, I should
have imagined that cards were an amusement which
scarcely entered into Mr. Selingman’s scheme of life.”
“One must have one’s distractions,” Selingman
protested. “I confess that auction bridge, as it is
played over here, is the one game in the world which
attracts me.”
“But how about the crockery?” Norgate asked.
“Doesn’t that come first?”
“First, beyond a doubt,” Selingman agreed heart-
ily. “Always, though, my plan of campaign is the
same. On the day of my arrival here, I take things
easily. I spend an hour or so at the office in the
morning, and the afternoon I take holiday. After
that I settle down for one week’s hard work. Lon-
don — your great London — takes always first place


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 65
with me. In the mornings I see my agents and my
customers. Perhaps I lunch with one of them. At
four o’clock I close my desk, and crockery does not
exist for me any longer. I get into a taxi, and I
come here. My first game of bridge is a treat to
which I look forward eagerly. See, there are three
of us and several sitting out. Let us make another
table. So *
They found a fourth without difficulty and took
possession of a table at the far end of the room.
Selingman, with a huge cigar in his mouth, played
well and had every appearance of thoroughly enjoy-
ing the game. Towards the end of their third rub-
ber, Mrs. Benedek, who was dummy, leaned across
towards Norgate.
“After all, perhaps you are better off here,” she
murmured in German. “There is nothing like this
in Berlin.”
“One is at least nearer the things one cherishes,”
Norgate quoted in the same language.
Selingman was playing the hand and held between
his fingers a card already drawn to play. For a
moment, it was suspended in the air. He looked
towards Norgate, and there was a new quality in his
piercing gaze, an instant return in his expression of
the shadow which had swept the broad good-humour
from his face on his first appearance. The change
came and went like a flash. He finished playing the
hand and scored his points before he spoke. Then
he turned to Norgate.
“Your gift of acquiring languages in a short space
of time is most extraordinary, my young friend!


66 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Since yesterday you have become able to speak Ger-
man, eh? Prodigious!”
Norgate smiled without embarrassment. The
moment was a critical one, portentous to an extent
which no one at that table could possibly have
realised.
“I am afraid,” he confessed, “that when I found
that I had a fellow traveller in my coupé I felt most
ungracious and unsociable. I was in a thoroughly
bad temper and indisposed for conversation. The
simplest way to escape from it seemed to be to plead
ignorance of any language save my own.”
Selingman chuckled audibly. The cloud had
passed from his face. To all appearance that mo-
mentary suspicion had been strangled.
“So you found me a bore!” he observed. “Then
I must admit that your manners were good, for when
you found that I spoke English and that you could
not escape conversation, you allowed me to talk on
about my business, and you showed few signs of
weariness. You should be a diplomatist, Mr. Nor-
gate.”
“Mr. Norgate is, or rather he was,” Mrs. Paston
Benedek remarked. “He has just left the Embassy
at Berlin.”
Selingman leaned back in his chair and thrust both
hands into his trousers pockets. He indulged in a
few German expletives, bombastic and thunderous,
which relieved him so much that he was able to con-
clude his speech in English.
“I am the densest blockhead in all Europe!” he
announced emphatically. “If I had realised your


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 67
identity, I would willingly have left you alone. No
wonder you were feeling indisposed for idle conversa-
tion! Mr. Francis Norgate, eh? A little affair at
the Café de Berlin with a lady and a hot-headed
young princeling. Well, well! Young sir, you have
become more to me than an ordinary acquaintance.
If I had known the cause of your ill-humour, I would
certainly have left you alone, but I would have shaken
you first by the hand.”
The fourth at the table, who was an elderly lady
of somewhat austere appearance, produced a small
black cigar from what seemed to be a harmless-look-
ing reticule which she was carrying, and lit it.
Selingman stared at her with his mouth open.
“Is this a bridge-table or is it not?” she enquired
severely. “These little personal reminiscences are
very interesting among yourselves, I dare say, but
I cut in here with the idea of playing bridge.”
Selingman was the first to recover his manners,
although his eyes seemed still fascinated by the cigar.
“We owe you apologies, madam,” he acknowl-
edged. “Permit me to cut.”
The rubber progressed and finished in comparative
silence. At its conclusion, Selingman glanced at the
clock. It was half-past seven.
“I am hungry,” he announced.
Mrs. Benedek laughed at him. “ Hungry at half-
past seven Barbarian'?”
“I lunched at half-past twelve,” he protested. “I
ate less than usual, too. I did not even leave my
office, I was so anxious to finish what was necessary
and to find myself here.”


68 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Mrs. Benedek played with the cards a moment and
then rose to her feet with a little grimace.
“Well, I suppose I shall have to give in,” she
sighed. “I am taking it for granted, you see, that
you are expecting me to dine with you.”
“My dear lady,” Selingman declared emphatically,
“if you were to break through our time-honoured
custom and deny me the joy of your company on my
first evening in London, I think that I should send
another to look after my business in this country, and
retire myself to the seclusion of my little country
home near Potsdam. The inducements of managing
one’s own affairs in this country, Mr. Norgate,” he
added, “are, as you may imagine, manifold and mag-
netic.”
“We will not grudge them to you so long as you
don’t come too often,” Norgate remarked, as he bade
them good night. “The man who monopolised Mrs.
Benedek would soon make himself unpopular here.”


CHAPTER IX
Norgate had chosen, for many reasons, to return
to London as a visitor. His somewhat luxurious
rooms in Albemarle Street were still locked up. He
had taken a small flat in the Milan Court, solely for
the purpose of avoiding immediate association with
his friends and relatives. His whole outlook upon
lifs was confused and disturbed. Until he received a
definite pronouncement from the head-quarters of
officialdom, he felt himself unable to settle down to
any of the ordinary functions of life. And behind
all this, another and a more powerful sentiment pos-
sessed him. He had left Berlin without seeing or
hearing anything further from Anna von Haase. No
word had come from her, nor any message. And
now that it was too late, he began to feel that he had
made a mistake. It seemed to him that he had visited
upon her, in some indirect way, the misfortune which
had befallen him. It was scarcely her fault that she
had been the object of attentions which nearly every
one agreed were unwelcome, from this young prince-
ling. Norgate told himself, as he changed his
clothes that evening, that his behaviour had been the
behaviour of a jealous school-boy. Then an inspira-
tion seized him. Half dressed as he was, he sat down
at the writing-table and wrote to her. He wrote
rapidly, and when he had finished, he sealed and


7o THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
addressed the envelope without glancing once more
at its contents. The letter was stamped and posted
within a few minutes, but somehow or other it seemed
to have made a difference. His depression was no
longer so complete. He looked forward to his lonely
dinner, at one of the smaller clubs to which he be-
longed, with less aversion.
“Do you know where any of my people are,
Hardy?” he asked his servant.
“In Scotland, I believe, sir,” the man replied. “I
called round this afternoon, although I was careful
not to mention the fact that you were in town. The
house is practically in the hands of caretakers.”
“Try to keep out of the way as much as you can,
Hardy,” Norgate enjoined. “For a few days, at
any rate, I should like no one to know that I am in
town.”
“Very good, sir,” the man replied. “Might I
venture to enquire, sir, if you are likely to be re-
turning to Berlin?”
“I think it is very doubtful, Hardy,” Norgate
observed grimly. “We are more likely to remain
here for a time.”
Hardy brushed his master's hat for a moment or
two in silence.
“You will pardon my mentioning it, sir,” he said
—“I imagine it is of no importance — but one of the
German waiters on this floor has been going out of
his way to enter into conversation with me this even-
ing. He seemed to know your name and to know
that you had just come from Germany. He hinted
at some slight trouble there, sir.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 71
“The dickens he did!” Norgate exclaimed.
“That's rather quick work, Hardy.”
“So I thought, sir,” the man continued. “A very
inquisitive individual indeed I found him. He wanted
to know whether you had had any news yet as to any
further appointment. He seemed to know quite well
that you had been at the Foreign Office this morn-
ing.”
“What did you tell him?”
“I told him that I knew nothing, sir. I explained
that you had not been back to lunch, and that I had
not seen you since the morning. He tried to make
an appointment with me to give me some dinner and
take me to a music-hall to-night.”
“What did you say to that?” Norgate enquired.
“I left the matter open, sir,” the man replied. “I
thought I would enquire what your wishes might be?
The person evidently desires to gain some informa-
tion about your movements. I thought that possibly
it might be advantageous for me to tell him just what
you desired.”
Norgate lit a cigarette. For the moment he was
puzzled. It was true that during their journey he
had mentioned to Selingman his intention of taking
a flat at the Milan Court, but if this espionage were
the direct outcome of that information, it was indeed
a wonderful organisation which Selingman controlled.
“You have acted very discreetly, Hardy,” he said.
“I think you had better tell your friend that I am
expecting to leave for somewhere at a moment’s
notice. For your own information,” he added, “I
rather think that I shall stay here. It seems to me


72 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
quite possible that we may find London, for a few
weeks, just as interesting as any city in the world.”
“I am very glad to hear you say so, sir,” the man
murmured. “Shall I fetch your overcoat?”
The telephone bell suddenly interrupted them.
Hardy took up the receiver and listened for a mo-
ment.
“Mr. Hebblethwaite would like to speak to you,
sir,” he announced.
Norgate hurried to the telephone. A cheery voice
greeted him. -
“Hullo! That you, Norgate? This is Hebble-
thwaite. I’m just back from a few days in the coun-
try — found your note here. I want to hear all
about this little matter at once. When can I see
you?”
“Any time you like,” Norgate replied promptly.
“Let me see,” the voice continued, “what are you
doing to-night?”
“Nothing!”
“Come straight round to the House of Commons
and dine. Or no — wait a moment — we'll go some-
where quieter. Say the club in a quarter of an hour
— the Reform Club. How will that suit you?”
“I’ll be there, with pleasure,” Norgate promised.
“Righto! We'll hear what you’ve been doing to
these peppery Germans. I had a line from Leveson
himself this morning. A lady in the case, I hear?
Well, well! Never mind explanations now. See you
in a few minutes.”
Norgate laid down the receiver. His manner, as
he accepted his well-brushed hat, had lost all its de-


CHAPTER X.
The Right Honourable John Hebblethwaite, M.P.,
since he had become a Cabinet Minister and had even
been mentioned as the possible candidate for supreme
office, had lost a great deal of that breezy, almost
boisterous effusion of manner which in his younger
days had first endeared him to his constituents. He
received Norgate, however, with marked and hearty
cordiality, and took his arm as he led him to the
little table which he had reserved in a corner of the
dining-room. The friendship between the entirely
self-made politician and Norgate, who was the nephew
of a duke, and whose aristocratic connections were
multifarious and far-reaching, was in its way a genu-
ine one. There were times when Hebblethwaite had
made use of his younger friend to further his own
undoubted social ambitions. On the other hand,
since he had become a power in politics, he had al-
ways been ready to return in kind such offices. The
note which he had received from Norgate that day
was, however, the first appeal which had ever been
made to him.
“I have been away for a week-end's golf,” Heb-
blethwaite explained, as they took their places at the
table. “There comes a time when figures pall, and
snapping away in debate seems to stick in one’s


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 75
throat. I telephoned directly I got your note.
Fortunately, I wasn’t doing anything this evening.
We won’t play about. I know you don’t want to see
me to talk about the weather, and I know something’s
up, or Leveson wouldn’t have written to me, and you
wouldn’t be back from Berlin. Let’s have the whole
story with the soup and fish, and we’ll try and hit
upon a way to put things right before we reach the
liqueurs.”
“I’ve lots to say to you,” Norgate admitted
simply. “I’ll begin with the personal side of it.
Here’s just a brief narration of exactly what hap-
pened to me in the most fashionable restaurant of
Berlin last Thursday night.”
Norgate told his story. His friend listened with
the absorbed attention of a man who possesses com-
plete powers of concentration.
“Rotten business,” he remarked, when it was
finished. “I suppose you’ve told old — I mean
you’ve told them the story at the Foreign Office?”
“Had it all out this morning,” Norgate replied.
“I know exactly what our friend told you,” Mr.
Hebblethwaite continued, with a gleam of humour in
his eyes. “He reminded you that the first duty of
a diplomat — of a young diplomat especially — is to
keep on friendly terms with the governing members
of the country to which he is accredited. How’s
that, eh?”
“Pretty nearly word for word,” Norgate ad-
mitted. “It’s the sort of platitude I could watch
framing in his mind before I was half-way through
what I had to say. What they don’t seem to take


76 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
sufficient account of in that museum of mummied
brains and parchment tongues — forgive me, Heb-
blethwaite, but it isn’t your department — is that the
Prince's behaviour to me is such as no Englishman,
subscribing to any code of honour, could possibly
tolerate. I will admit, if you like, that the Kaiser’s
attitude may render it advisable for me to be trans-
ferred from Berlin. I do not admit that I am not at
once eligible for a position of similar importance in
another capital.”
“No one would doubt it,” John Hebblethwaite
grumbled, “except those particular fools we have to
deal with. I suppose they didn’t see it in the same
light.”
“They did not,” Norgate admitted.
“We’ve a tough proposition to tackle,” Hebble-
thwaite confessed cheerfully, “but I am with you,
Norgate, and to my mind one of the pleasures of
being possessed of a certain amount of power is to
help one’s friends when you believe in the justice of
their cause. If you leave things with me, I’ll tackle
them to-morrow morning.”
“That’s awfully good of you, Hebblethwaite,”
Norgate declared gratefully, “and just what I ex-
pected. We’ll leave that matter altogether just now,
if we may. My own little grievance is there, and I
wanted to explain exactly how it came about. Apart
from that altogether, there is something far more
important which I have to say to you.”
Hebblethwaite knitted his brows. He was clearly
puzzled. -
“Still personal, eh?” he enquired.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 77
Norgate shook his head.
“It is something of vastly more importance,” he
said, “than any question affecting my welfare. I
am almost afraid to begin for fear I shall miss any
chance, for fear I may not seem convincing enough.”
“We’ll have the champagne opened at once, then,”
Mr. Hebblethwaite declared. “Perhaps that will
loosen your tongue. I can see that this is going to
be a busy meal. Charles, if that bottle of Pommery
1904 is iced just to the degree I like it, let it be
served, if you please, in the large sized glasses.
Now, Norgate.”
“What I am going to relate to you,” Norgate
began, leaning across the table and speaking very
earnestly, “is a little incident which happened to
me on my way back from Berlin. I had as a fellow
passenger a person whom I am convinced is high up
in the German Secret Service Intelligence Depart-
ment.” -
“All that!” Mr. Hebblethwaite murmured. “Go
ahead, Norgate. I like the commencement of your
story. I almost feel that I am moving through the
pages of a diplomatic romance. All that I am
praying is that your fellow passenger was a foreign
lady — a princess, if possible — with wonderful eyes,
fascinating manners, and of a generous disposition.”
“Then I am afraid you will be disappointed,” Nor-
gate continued drily. “The personage in question
was a man whose name was Selingman. He told me
that he was a manufacturer of crockery and that he
came often to England to see his customers. He
called himself a peace-loving German, and he pro-


78 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
fessed the utmost good-will towards our country and
our national policy. At the commencement of our
conversation, I managed to impress him with the idea
that I spoke no German. At one of the stations on
the line he was joined by a Belgian, his agent, as he
told me, in Brussels for the sale of his crockery. I
overheard this agent, whose name was Meyer, recount
to his principal his recent operations. He offered
him an exact plan of the forts of Liège. I heard him
instructed to procure a list of the wealthy inhabitants
of Ghent and the rateable value of the city, and I
heard him commissioned to purchase land in the
neighbourhood of Antwerp for a secret purpose.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite’s eyebrows became slowly up-
raised. The twinkle in his eyes remained, however.
“My' " he exclaimed softly. “We’re getting on
with the romance all right!”
“During the momentary absence of this fellow
and his agent from the carriage,” Norgate proceeded,
“I possessed myself of a slip of paper which had
become detached from the packet of documents they
had been examining. It consisted of a list of names
mostly of people resident in the United Kingdom,
purporting to be Selingman's agents. I venture to
believe that this list is a precise record of the princi-
pal German spies in this country.”
“German spies!” Mr. Hebblethwaite murmured.
“Whew **
SIe sipped his champagne.
“That list,” Norgate went on, “is in my pocket.
I may add that although I was careful to keep up the
fiction of not understanding German, and although


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 79
I informed Herr Selingman that I had seen the paper
in question blow out of the window, he nevertheless
gave me that night a drugged whisky and soda, and
during the time I slept he must have been through
every one of my possessions. I found my few letters
and papers turned upside down, and even my pockets
had been ransacked.”
“Where was the paper, then?” Mr. Hebblethwaite
enquired.
“In an inner pocket of my pyjamas,” Norgate ex-
plained. “I had them made with a sort of belt in-
side, at the time I was a king's messenger.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite played with his tie for a mo-
ment and drank a little more champagne.
“Could I have a look at the list?” he asked, as
though with a sudden inspiration.
Norgate passed it across the table to him. Mr.
Hebblethwaite adjusted his pince-nez, gave a little
start as he read the first name, leaned back in his
chair as he came to another, stared at Norgate about
half-way down the list, as though to make sure that
he was in earnest, and finally finished it in silence.
He folded it up and handed it back.
“Well, well!” he exclaimed, a little pointlessly.
“Now tell me, Norgate, you showed this list down
there?”— jerking his head towards the street.
“I did,” Norgate admitted.
“And what did they say?”
“Just what you might expect men whose lives are
spent within the four walls of a room in Downing
Street to say,” Norgate replied. “You are half
inclined to make fun of me yourself, Hebblethwaite,


8O THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
but at any rate I know you have a different outlook
from theirs. Old Carew was frantically polite. He
even declared the list to be most interesting! He
rambled on for about a quarter of an hour on the
general subject of the spy mania. German espion-
age, he told me, was one of the shadowy evils from
which England had suffered for generations. So far
as regards London and the provincial towns, he went
on, whether for good or evil, we have a large German
population, and if they choose to make reports to
any one in Germany as to events happening here
which come under their observation, we cannot stop
it, and it would not even be worth while to try. As
regards matters of military and naval importance,
there was a special branch, he assured me, for looking
after these, and it was a branch of the Service which
was remarkably well-served and remarkably success-
ful. Having said this, he folded the list up and re-
turned it to me, rang the bell, gave me a frozen hand
to shake, a mumbled promise about another appoint-
ment as soon as there should be a vacancy, and that
was the end of it.”
“About that other appointment,” Mr. Hebble-
thwaite began, with some animation —
“Damn the other appointment!” Norgate inter-
rupted testily. “I didn’t come here to cadge, Heb-
blethwaite. I am never likely to make use of my
friends in that way. I came for a bigger thing. I
came to try and make you see a danger, the reality of
which I have just begun to appreciate myself for the
first time in my life.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite’s manner slowly changed. He


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 83
navy? What about the military spirit which prac-
tically rules the country?”
“I have spent three months in Germany during
the last year,” Hebblethwaite replied. “It is my
firm belief that those armaments and that fleet are
necessary to Germany to preserve her place of dignity
among the nations. She has Russia on one side and
France on the other, allies, watching her all the time,
and of late years England has been chipping at her
whenever she got a chance, and flirting with France.
What can a nation do but make herself strong enough
to defend herself against unprovoked attack? Ger-
many, of course, is full of the military spirit, but it is
my opinion, Norgate, that it is a great deal fuller of
the great commercial spirit. It isn’t war with Ger-
many that we have to fear. It’s the ruin of our com-
merce by their great assiduity and more up-to-date
methods. Now you’ve had a statement of policy
from me for which the halfpenny Press would give me
a thousand guineas if I’d sign it.”
“I’ve had it,” Norgate admitted, “and I tell you
frankly that I hate it. I am an unfledged young
diplomat in disgrace, and I haven’t your experience
or your brains, but I have a hateful idea that I can
see the truth and you can’t. You're too big and too
broad in this matter, Hebblethwaite. Your head's
lifted too high. You see the horrors and the need-
lessness, the logical side of war, and you brush the
thought away from you.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite sighed.
“Perhaps so,” he admitted. “One can only act
according to one's convictions. You must remember,


84 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
though, Norgate, that we don’t carry our pacificism
to extremes. Our navy is and always will be an irre-
sistible defence.”
“Even with hostile naval and aeroplane bases at —
say — Calais, Boulogne, Dieppe, Ostend?”
Mr. Hebblethwaite pushed a box of cigars towards
his guest, glanced at the clock, and rose.
“Young fellow,” he said, “I have engaged a box
at the Empire. Let us move on.”


CHAPTER XI
“My position as a Cabinet Minister,” Mr. Heb-
blethwaite declared, with a sigh, “renders my pres-
ence in the Promenade undesirable. If you want to
stroll around, Norgate, don’t bother about me.”
Norgate picked up his hat. “Jolly good show,”
he remarked. “I’ll be back before it begins again.”
He descended to the lower Promenade and saun-
tered along towards the refreshment bar. Mrs.
Paston Benedek, who was seated in the stalls, leaned
over, and touched his arm.
“My friend,” she exclaimed, “you are distrait!
You walk as though you looked for everything and
saw nothing. And behold, you have found me!”
Norgate shook hands and nodded to Baring, who
was her escort.
“What have you done with our expansive friend?”
he asked. “I thought you were dining with him.”
“I compromised,” she laughed. “You see what
it is to be so popular. I should have dined and have
come here with Captain Baring—that was our plan
for to-night. Captain Baring, however, was gener-
ous when he saw my predicament. He suffered me
to dine with Mr. Selingman, and he fetched me after-
wards. Even then we could not quite get rid of the
dear man. He came on here with us, and he is now,


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 87
own pet ideas with regard to it. And then, all of a
sudden, nothing — not a word about what you have
been doing. I am an intelligent woman. I love to
have men friends who do things, and if they are really
friends of mine, I like to enter into their life, to know
of their work, to sympathise, to take an interest in it.
It was like that with you at first. Now it has all
gone. You have drawn down a curtain. I do not
believe that you go to the Admiralty at all. I do
not believe that you have any wonderful invention
there over which you spend your time.”
“Bertha, dear,” he remonstrated, “do be reason-
able.”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“But am I not? See how reasonably I have
spoken to you. I have told you the exact truth. I
have told you why I do not take quite that same
pleasure in your company as when you first came.”
“Do consider,” he begged. “I spoke to you
freely at first because we had not reached the stage
in the work when secrecy was absolutely necessary.
At present we are all upon our honour. From the
moment we pass inside that little room, we are, to all
effects and purposes, dead men. Nothing that hap-
pens there is to be spoken of or hinted at, even to
our wives or our dearest friends. It is the etiquette
of my profession, Bertha. Be reasonable.”
“Pooh!” she exclaimed. “Fancy asking a woman
to be reasonable! Don’t you realise, you stupid man,
that if you were at liberty to tell everybody what it
is that you do there, well, then I should have no more
interest in it? It is just because you say that you


88 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
will not and you may not tell, that, womanlike, I am
curious.”
“But whatever good could it be to you to know?”
he protested. “I should simply addle your head
with a mass of technical detail, not a quarter of
which you would be able to understand. Besides, I
have told you, Bertha, it is a matter of honour.”
She looked intently at her programme.
“There are men,” she murmured, “who love so
much that even honour counts for little by the side
of —”
“Of what?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Of success.”
For a moment they sat in silence. The place was
not particularly hot, yet there were little beads of
perspiration upon Baring's forehead. The fingers
which held his programme twitched. He rose sud-
denly to his feet.
“May I go out and have a drink?” he asked. “I
won’t go if you don’t want to be alone.”
“My dear friend, I do not mind in the least,” she
assured him. “If you find Mr. Norgate, send him
here.”
In one of the smaller refreshment rooms sat Mr.
Selingman, a bottle of champagne before him and a
wondrously attired lady on either side. The heads
of all three were close together. The lady on the left
was talking in a low tone but with many gesticula-
tions.
“Dear friend,” she exclaimed, “for one single
moment you must not think that I am ungrateful!
But consider. Success costs money always, and I


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 89
have been successful — you admit that. My rooms
are frequented entirely by the class of young men
you have wished me to encourage. Pauline and I
here, and Rose, whom you have met, seek our friends
in no other direction. We are never alone, and, as
you very well know, not a day has passed that I have
not sent you some little word of gossip or information
— the gossip of the navy and the gossip of the army
— and there is always some truth underneath what
these young men say. It is what you desire, is it
not?”
“Without a doubt,” Selingman assented. “Your
work, my dear Helda, has been excellent. I com-
mend you. I think with fervour of the day when
first we talked together, and the scheme presented
itself to me. Continue to play Aspasia in such a
fashion to the young soldiers and sailors of this coun-
try, and your villa at Monte Carlo next year is
assured.”
The woman shrugged her shoulders.
“I will not say that you are not generous,” she
declared, “for that would be untrue, but sometimes
you forget that these young men have very little
money, and the chief profit from their friendship,
therefore, must come to us in other ways.”
“You want a larger allowance?” Selingman asked
slowly.
“Not at present, but I want to warn you that the
time may come when I shall need more. A salon in
Pimlico, dear friend, is an expensive thing to main-
tain. These young men tell their friends of our
hospitality, the music, our entertainment. We be-


90 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
come almost too much the fashion, and it costs
money.”
Selingman held up his champagne glass, gazed at
the wine for a moment, and slowly drank it.
“I am not of those,” he announced, “who expect
service for nothing, especially good service such as
yours. Watch for the postman, dear lady. Any
morning this week there may come for you a pleas-
ant little surprise.”
She leaned over and patted his arm.
“You are a prince,” she murmured. “But tell
me, who is the grave-looking young man?”
Selingman glanced up. Norgate, who had been
standing at the bar with Baring, was passing a few
feet away.
“The rake's progress,” the former quoted sol-
emnly.
Selingman raised his glass.
“Come and join us,” he invited.
Norgate shook his head slightly and passed on.
Selingman leaned a little forward, watching his de-
parting figure. The buoyant good-nature seemed to
have faded out of his face.
“If you could get that young man to talk, now,
Helda,” he muttered, “it would be an achievement.”
She glanced after him. “To me,” she declared,
“he looks one of the difficult sort.”
“He is an Englishman with a grievance,” Seling-
man continued. “If the grievance cuts deep enough,
he may — But we gossip.”
“The other was a navy man,” the girl remarked.
“His name is Baring.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 9I
Selingman nodded.
“You need not bother about him,” he said. “If
it is possible for him to be of use, that is arranged for
in another quarter. So! Let us finish our wine and
separate. That letter shall surely come. Have no
fear.”
Selingman strolled away, a few minutes later.
Baring had returned to Mrs. Paston Benedek, and
Norgate had resumed his place in the box. Seling-
man, with a gold-topped cane under his arm, a fresh
cigar between his lips, and a broad smile of good-
fellowship upon his face, strolled down one of the
wings of the Promenade. Suddenly he came to a
standstill. In the box opposite to him, Norgate and
Hebblethwaite were seated side by side. Selingman
regarded them for a moment steadfastly.
“A friend of Hebblethwaite’s | * he muttered.
“Hebblethwaite — the one man whom Berlin
doubts | *
He withdrew a little into the shadows, his eyes
fixed upon the box. A little way off, in the stalls,
Mrs. Paston Benedek was whispering to Baring.
Further back in the Promenade, Helda was enter-
taining a little party of friends. Selingman's eyes
remained fixed upon Norgate.


CHAPTER XII
Mrs. Paston Benedek, on the following afternoon,
sat in one corner of the very comfortable lounge set
with its back to the light in her charming drawing-
room. Norgate sat in the other.
“I think it is perfectly sweet of you to come,”
she declared. “I do not care how many enemies I
make — I will certainly dine with you to-night.
How I shall manage it I do not yet know. You shall
call for me here at eight o'clock — or say a quarter
past, then we need not hurry away too early from the
club. If Captain Baring is there, perhaps it would
be better if you did not speak of our engagement.”
Norgate sighed.
“What is the wonderful attraction about Bar-
ing?” he asked discontentedly.
“Really, there isn’t any,” she replied. “I like to
be kind, that is all. I do not like to hurt anybody’s
feelings, and I know that Captain Baring would like
very much to dine with me to-night himself. I was
obliged to throw him over last night because of Mr.
Selingman’s arrival.”
“You have not always been so considerate,” he
persisted. “Why this especial care for Baring's
feelings?”
She turned her head a little towards him. She was


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 93
leaning back in her corner of the lounge, her hands
clasped behind her head. There was an elaborate
carelessness about her pose which she numbered
among her best effects.
“Perhaps,” she retorted, “I, too, find your sudden
attraction for me a little remarkable. On those few
occasions when you did honour us at the club before
you left for Berlin, you were agreeable enough, but I
do not remember that you once asked me to dine with
you. There was no Captain Baring then.”
“The truth is,” Norgate confessed, “since I re-
turned, I have felt rather like hiding myself. I don’t
care about going to my own club or visiting my own
friends. I came to the St. James's as a sort of com-
promise.”
“You are not very flattering,” she complained.
“Wouldn’t you rather I were truthful?” asked
Norgate. “One’s friends, one’s real friends, are
scarcely likely to be found at a mixed bridge club.”
“After that,” she sighed, “I am going to telephone
to Captain Baring. He, at any rate, is in love with
me, and I need something to restore my self-respect.”
“In love with you, perhaps, but are you in love
with him?”
She laughed, softly at first, but with an ever more
insistent note of satire underlying her mirth.
“The woman,” she said, “who expects to get any-
thing out of life worth having, doesn’t fall in love.
She may give a good deal, she may seem to give every-
thing, but if she is wise, she keeps her heart.”
“Poor Baring!”
“Are you sure,” she asked, fixing her brilliant eyes


94 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
upon him, “that he needs your sympathy? He is
very much in love with me, and there are times when
I could almost persuade myself that I am in love with
him. At any rate, he attracts me.”
Norgate was momentarily sententious. “The psy-
chology of love,” he murmured, looking into the fire,
“is a queer study.”
Once more she laughed at him.
“Before you went to Berlin,” she said, “you used
not to talk of the psychology of love. Your methods,
so far as I remember them, were a little different.
Confess now — you fell in love in Berlin.”
Norgate stifled a sudden desire to confide in his
companion.
“At my age!” he exclaimed.
“It is true that it is not a susceptible age,” Mrs.
Benedek admitted. “You are in what I call your
mid-youth. Mid-youth, as a rule, is an age of cyni-
cism. As you grow older, you will appreciate more
the luxury of emotion. But tell me, was it the little
Baroness who fascinated you? She is a great
beauty, is she not?”
“I took her out to dinner,” Norgate observed.
“Therefore I suppose it was my duty to be in love
with her.”
“Fancy sharing the same sofa,” she laughed,
“with a rival of princes ! Do you know that the
Baroness is a friend of mine? She comes sometimes
to London.”
“I am much more interested in your love affair,”
he protested.
“And I find far more interest in your future,”


96 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“and he is a man, too, who understands his own
particular subject. Of course it is a pleasure to talk
to him about it.”
“I thought navy men, as a rule,” he remarked,
“were not communicative.”
“Do you call it communicative,” she enquired, “to
discuss the subject you love best with your greatest
friend? But let us not talk any more of Captain
Baring. It is in you just now that I am interested,
you and your future. You seem to think that your
friends at the Foreign Office are not going to find
you another position — for some time, at any rate.
You are not one of those men who think of nothing
but sport and amusing themselves. What are you
going to do during the next few months?”
“At present,” he confessed thoughtfully, “I have
only the vaguest ideas. Perhaps you could help me.”
“Perhaps I could,” she admitted. “We will talk
of that another time, if you like.”
It was obvious that she was speaking under a cer-
tain tension. The silence which ensued was signifi-
cant.
“Why not now?” he asked.
“It is too soon,” she answered, “and you would
not understand. I might say things to you which
would perhaps end our friendship, which would give
you a wrong impression. No, let us stay just as we
are for a little time.”
“This is most tantalising,” grumbled Norgate.
She leaned over and patted his hand.
“Have patience, my friend,” she whispered.
“The great things come to those who wait.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 97
An interruption, commonplace enough, yet in its
way startling, checked the words which were already
upon his lips. The telephone bell from the little
instrument on the table within a few feet of them,
rang insistently. For a moment Mrs. Benedek her-
self appeared taken by surprise. Then she raised
the receiver to her ear.
“My friend,” she said to Norgate, “you must
excuse me. I told them distinctly to disconnect the
instrument so that it rang only in my bedroom. I
am disobeyed, but no matter. Who is that?”
Norgate leaned back in his place. His com-
panion’s little interjection, however, was irresistible.
He glanced towards her. There was a slight flush of
colour in her cheeks, her head was moving slowly as
though keeping pace to the words spoken at the
other end. Suddenly she laughed.
“Do not be so foolish,” she said. “Yes, of
course. You keep your share of the bargain and
I mine. At eight o'clock, then. I will say no
more now, as I am engaged with a visitor. Au
revoir!”
She set down the receiver and turned towards Nor-
gate, who was turning the pages of an illustrated
paper. She made a little grimace.
“Oh, but life is very queer!” she declared.
“How I love it! Now I am going to make you look
glum, if indeed you do care just that little bit which
is all you know of caring. Perhaps you will be a
little disappointed. Tell me that you are, or my
vanity will be hurt. Listen and prepare. To-night
I cannot dine with you.”


98 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
He turned deliberately around. “You are going
to throw me over?” he demanded, looking at her
steadfastly.
“To throw you over, dear friend,” she repeated
cheerfully. “You would do just the same, if you
were in my position.”
“It is an affair of duty,” he persisted, “ or the
triumph of a rival?”
She made a grimace at him. “It is an affair of
duty,” she admitted, “but it is certainly with a rival
that I must dine.”
He moved a little nearer to her on the lounge.
“Tell me on your honour,” he said, “that you are
not dining with Baring, and I will forgive!”
For a moment she seemed as though she were sum-
moning all her courage to tell the lie which he half
expected. Instead she changed her mind.
“Do not be unkind,” she begged. “I am dining
with Captain Baring. The poor man is distracted.
You know that I cannot bear to hurt people. Be
kind this once. You may take my engagement book,
you may fill it up as you will, but to-night I must dine
with him. Consider, my friend. You may have
many months before you in London. Captain Bar-
ing finishes his work at the Admiralty to-day, and
leaves for Portsmouth to-morrow morning. He may
not be in London again for some time. I promised
him long ago that I would dine with him to-night on
one condition. That condition he is keeping. I
cannot break my word.”
Norgate rose gloomily to his feet.
“Of course,” he said, “I don’t want to be un-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 99
reasonable, and any one can see the poor fellow is
head over ears in love with you.”
She took his arm as she led him towards the door.
“Listen,” she promised, laughing into his face,
“when you are as much in love with me as he is, I
will put off every other engagement I have in the
world, and I will dine with you. You understand?
We shall meet later at the club, I hope. Until then,
au revoir!”
Norgate hailed a taxi outside and was driven at
once to the nearest telephone call office. There,
after some search in the directory, he rang up a num-
ber and enquired for Captain Baring. There was a
delay of about five minutes. Then Baring spoke
from the other end of the telephone.
“Who is it wants me?” he enquired, rather im-
patiently.
“Are you Baring?” Norgate asked, deepening
his voice a little.
“Yes! Who are you?”
“I am a friend,” Norgate answered slowly.
“What the devil do you mean by “a friend’ ”
was the irritated reply. “I am engaged here most
particularly.”
“There can be nothing so important,” Norgate
declared, “as the warning I am charged to give to
you. Remember that it is a friend who speaks.
There is a train about five o’clock to Portsmouth.
Your work is finished. Take that train and stay
away from London.”
Norgate set down the receiver without listening to
the tangle of exclamations from the other end, and
2324G6P


Ioo THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
walked quickly out of the shop. He re-entered his
taxi.
“The St. James’s Club,” he ordered.


CHAPTER XIII
Norgate found Selingman in the little drawing-
room of the club, reclining in an easy-chair, a small
cup of black coffee by his side. He appeared to be
exceedingly irate at the performance of his partner in
a recent rubber, and he seized upon Norgate as a
possibly sympathetic confidant.
“Listen to me for one moment,” he begged, “and
tell me whether I have not the right to be aggrieved.
I go in on my own hand, no trump. I am a careful
declarer. I play here every day when I am in Lon-
don, and they know me well to be a careful declarer.
My partner — I do not know his name; I hope I
shall never know his name; I hope I shall never see
him again — he takes me out. “Into what?’ you
ask. Into diamonds! I am regretful, but I recog-
nise, as I believe, a necessity. I ask you, of what do
you suppose his hand consists? Down goes my no
trump on the table — a good, a very good no trump.
He has in his hand the ace, king, queen and five dia-
monds, the king of clubs guarded, the ace and two
little hearts, and he takes me out into diamonds from
no trumps with a score at love all. Two pences they
had persuaded me to play, too, and it was the rubber
game. Afterwards he said to me: ‘You seem an-
noyed"; and I replied “I am annoyed, and I am. I
come in here to drink coffee and cool myself. Pres-


IO2 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
ently I will cut into another rubber, where that young
man is not. Perhaps our friend Mrs. Benedek will
be here. You and I and Mrs. Benedek, but not, if
we can help it, the lady who smokes the small black
cigars. She is very amiable, but I cannot attend to
the game while she sits there opposite to me. She
fascinates me. In Germany sometimes our women
smoke cigarettes, but cigars, and in public, never!”
“We’ll get a rubber presently, I dare say,” Nor-
gate remarked, settling himself in an easy-chair.
“How’s business?”
“Business is very good,” Selingman declared.
“It is so good that I must be in London for another
week or so before I set off to the provinces. It grows
and grows all the time. Soon I must find a manager
to take over some of my work here. At my time of
life one likes to enjoy. I love to be in London; I do
not like these journeys to Newcastle and Liverpool
and places a long way off. In London I am happy.
You should go into business, young man. It is not
well for you to do nothing.”
“Do you think I should be useful in the crockery
trade?” Norgate asked.
Herr Selingman appeared to take the enquiry quite
seriously.
“Why not?” he demanded. “You are well-edu-
cated, you have address, you have intelligence. Mrs.
Benedek has spoken very highly of you. But you —
oh, no! It would not suit you at all to plunge your-
self into commerce, nor would it suit you, I think,
to push the affairs of a prosperous German concern.
You are very English, Mr. Norgate, is that not so?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR IO3
“Not aggressively,” Norgate replied. “As a
matter of fact, I am rather fed up with my own coun-
try just now.”
Mr. Selingman sat quite still in his chair. Some
signs of a change which came to him occasionally
were visible in his face. He was for that moment no
longer the huge, overgrown schoolboy bubbling over
with the joy and appetite of life. His face seemed
to have resolved itself into sterner lines. It was the
face of a thinker.
“There are other Englishmen besides you,” Seling-
man said, “who are a little — what you call “fed up *
with your country. You have much common sense.
You do not believe that yours is the only country
in the world. You like sometimes to hear plain
speech from one who knows?”
“Without a doubt,” Norgate assented.
Mr. Selingman stroked his knee with his fat hand.
“You in England,” he continued, “you are too
prosperous. Very, very slowly the country is drift-
ing into the hands of the people. A country that is
governed entirely by the people goes down, down,
down. Your classes are losing their hold and their
influence. You have gone from Tory to Whig, from
Whig to Liberal, from Liberal to Radical, and soon
it will be the Socialists who govern. You know what
will come then? Colonies! What do your radicals
care about colonies? Institutions! What do they
care about institutions? All you who have inherited
money, they will bleed. You will become worse than
a nation of shop-keepers. You will be an illustra-
tion to all the world of the dangers of democracy.


IoA THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
So! I go on. I tell you why that comes about.
You are in the continent of Europe, and you will not
do as Europe does. You are a nation outside. You
have believed in yourselves and believed in yourselves,
till you think that you are infallible. Before long
will come the revolution. It will be a worse revolu-
tion than the French Revolution.”
Norgate smiled. “Too much common sense about
us, I think, Mr. Selingman, for such happenings,”
he declared. “I grant you that the classes are
getting the worst of it so far as regards the govern-
ment of the country, but I can’t quite see the future
that you depict.”
“Good Englishman!” Herr Selingman murmured
approvingly. “That is your proper attitude. You
do not see because you will not see. I tell you that
the best thing in all the world would be a little blood-
letting. You do not like your Government. Would
it not please you to see them humiliated just a little?”
“In what way?”
“Oh! there are ways,” Selingman declared. “A
little gentle smack like this,”— his two hands came
together with a crash which echoed through the room
—“a little smack from Germany would do the busi-
ness. People would open their eyes and begin to
understand. A Radical Government may fill your
factories with orders and rob the rich to increase the
prosperity of the poor, but it will not keep you a
great nation amongst the others.”
Norgate nodded.
“You seem to have studied the question pretty
closely,” he remarked.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR IoS
“I study the subject closely,” Selingman went on,
“because my interests are yours. My profits are
made in England. I am German born, but I am
English, too, in feeling. To me the two nations are
one. We are of the same race. That is why I am
sorrowful when I see England slipping back. That
is why I would like to see her have just a little lesson.”
Selingman paused. Norgate rose to his feet and
stood on the hearthrug, with his elbow upon the man-
telpiece.
“Twice we have come as far as that, Mr. Seling-
man,” he pointed out. “England requires a little
lesson. You have something in your mind behind
that, something which you are half inclined to say
to me. Isn’t that so? Why not go on?”
“Because I am not sure of you,” Selingman con-
fessed frankly. “Because you might misunderstand
what I say, and we should be friends no longer, and
you would say silly things about me and my views.
Therefore, I like to keep you for a friend, and I go
no further at present. You say that you are a little
angry with your country, but you Englishmen are so
very prejudiced, so very quick to take offence, so
very insular, if I may use the word. I do not know
how angry you are with your country. I do not
know if your mind is so big and broad that you would
be willing to see her suffer a little for her greater
good. Ah, but the lady comes at last!”
Mrs. Benedek was accompanied by a tall, middle-
aged man, of fair complexion, whom Selingman
greeted with marked respect. She turned to Nor-
gate.


IOG THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Let me present you,” she said, “to Prince Ed-
ward of Lenemaur — Mr. Francis Norgate.”
The two men shook hands.
“I played golf with you once at Woking,” Nor-
gate reminded his new acquaintance.
“I not only remember it,” Prince Edward an-
swered, “but I remember the result. You beat me
three up, and we were to have had a return, but you
had to leave for Paris on the next day.”
“You will be able to have your return match
now,” Mrs. Benedek observed. “Mr. Norgate is
going to be in England for some time. Let us play
bridge. I have to leave early to-night — I am dining
out— and I should like to make a little money.”
They strolled into the bridge-room. Selingman
hung behind with Norgate.
“Soon,” he suggested, “we must finish our talk,
is it not so? Dine with me to-night. Mrs. Benedek
has deserted me. We will eat at the Milan Grill.
The cooking there is tolerable, and they have some
Rhine wine — but you shall taste it.”
“Thank you,” Norgate assented, “I shall be very
pleased.”
They played three or four rubbers. Then Mrs.
Benedek glanced at the clock.
“I must go,” she announced. “I am dining at
eight o’clock.”
“Stay but for one moment,” Selingman begged.
“We will all take a little mixed vermouth together.
I shall tell the excellent Horton how to prepare it.
Plenty of lemon-peel, and just a dash— but I will
not give my secret away.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 107
He called the steward and whispered some instruc-
tions in his ear. While they were waiting for the
result, a man came in with an evening paper in his
hand. He looked across the room to a table beyond
that at which Norgate and his friends were playing.
“Heard the news, Monty?” he asked.
“No ! What is it?” was the prompt enquiry.
“Poor old Baring —”
The newcomer stopped short. For the first time
he noticed Mrs. Benedek. She half rose from her
chair, however, and her eyes were fixed upon him.
“What is it?” she exclaimed. “What has hap-
pened?”
There was a moment’s awkward silence. Mrs.
Benedek snatched the paper away from the man’s
fingers and read the little paragraph out aloud. For
a moment she was deathly white.
“What is it?” Selingman demanded.
“Freddy Baring,” she whispered—“Captain
Baring — shot himself in his room at the Admiralty
this afternoon! Some one telephoned to him. Five
minutes later he was found — dead — a bullet wound
through his temple! . . . Give me my chair, please.
I think that I am going to faint.”


CHAPTER XIV
Selingman and Norgate dined together that even-
ing in a corner of a large, popular grill-room near
the Strand. They were still suffering from the shock
of the recent tragedy. They both rather avoided
the topic of Baring's sudden death. Selingman made
but one direct allusion to it.
“Only yesterday,” he remarked, “I said to little
Bertha — I have known her so long that I call her
always Bertha — that this bureau work was bad for
Baring. When I was over last, a few months ago,
he was the picture of health. Yesterday he looked
wild and worried. He was at work with others, they
say, at the Admiralty upon some new invention.
Poor fellow !”
Norgate, conscious of a curious callousness which
even he himself found inexplicable, made some con-
ventional reply only. Selingman began to talk of
other matters.
“Truly,” he observed, “a visit to your country is
good for the patriotic German. Behold! here in
London, we are welcomed by a German maitre
d'hôtel; we are waited on by a German waiter; we
drink German wine; we eat off what I very well know
is German crockery.”
“And some day, I suppose,” Norgate put in, “we
are to be German subjects. Isn’t that so?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR Io9
Selingman’s denial was almost unduly emphatic.
“Never!” he exclaimed. “There is nothing so
foolish as the way many of you English seem to re-
gard us Germans as though we were wild beasts of
prey. Now it gives me pleasure to talk with a man
like yourself, Mr. Norgate. I like to look a little
into the future and speculate as to our two countries.
Above all things, this thing I do truly know. The
German nation stands for peace. Yet in order that
peace shall everywhere prevail, a small war, a
humanely-conducted war, may sometime within the
future, one must believe, take place. It would last
but a short time, but it might lead to great changes.
I have sometimes thought, my young friend Norgate,
that such a war might be the greatest blessing which
England could ever experience.”
“As a discipline, you mean?” Norgate murmured.
“As a cleansing tonic,” Selingman declared. “It
would sweep out your Radical Government. It
would bring the classes back to power. It would
kindle in the spirits of your coming generation the
spark of that patriotism which is, alas! just now a
very feeble flame. What do you think? You agree
with me, eh?”
“It is going a long way,” Norgate said cautiously,
“to approve of a form of discipline so stringent.”
“But not too far — oh, believe me, not too far!”
Selingman insisted. “If that war should come, it
would come solely with the idea of sweeping away this
Government, which is most distasteful to all German
politicians. It would come solely with the idea that
with a new form of government here, more solid and


II2 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
seem to be working with Germany, whereas you were
really England's best friend. But let us leave these
details until to-morrow. We have talked enough of
serious matters. I have a box at the Gaiety, and we
must not be late — also a supper party afterwards.
This is indeed a country for enjoyment. To-morrow
we speak of these things again. You have seen our
little German lady at the Gaiety? You have heard
her sing and watch her dance? Well, to-night you
shall meet her.”
“Rosa Morgen?” Norgate exclaimed.
Selingman nodded complacently.
“She sups with us,” he announced, “she and oth-
ers. That is why, when they spoke to me of going
back for bridge to-night, I pretended that I did not
hear. Bridge is very good, but there are other
things. To-night I am in a frivolous vein. I have
many friends amongst the young ladies of the Gaiety.
You shall see how they will welcome me.”
“You seem to have found your way about over
here,” Norgate remarked, as he lit a cigar and
waited while his companion paid the bill.
“I am a citizen of the world,” Selingman admit-
ted. “I enjoy myself as I go, but I have my eyes
always fixed upon the future. I make many friends,
and I do not lose them. I set my face towards the
pleasant places, and I keep it in that direction. It
is the cult of some to be miserable; it is mine to be
happy. The person who does most good in the
world is the person who reflects the greatest amount
of happiness. Therefore, I am a philanthropist.
You shall learn from me, my young friend, how to


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR II3
banish some of that gloom from your face. You
shall learn how to find happiness.”
They made their way across to the Gaiety, where
Selingman was a very conspicuous figure in the larg—
est and most conspicuous box. He watched with
complacency the delivery of enormous bouquets to
the principal artistes, and received their little bow of
thanks with spontaneous and unaffected gracious-
ness. Afterwards he dragged Norgate round to the
stage-door, installed him in a taxi, and handed over
to his escort two or three of his guests.
“I entrust you, Mr. Norgate,” he declared, “with
our one German export more wonderful, even, than
my crockery — Miss Rosa Morgen. Take good care
of her and bring her to the Milan. The other young
ladies are my honoured guests, but they are also Miss
Morgen’s. She will tell you their names. I have
others to look after.”
Norgate’s last glimpse of Selingman was on the
pavement outside the theatre, surrounded by a lit-
tle group of light-hearted girls and a few young
men.
“He is perfectly wonderful, our Mr. Selingman,”
Miss Morgen murmured, as they started off. “Tell
me how long you have known him, Mr. Norgate?”
“Four days,” Norgate replied.
She screamed with laughter.
“It is so like him,” she declared. “He makes
friends everywhere. A day is sufficient. He gives
such wonderful parties. I do not know why we all
like to come, but we do. I suppose that we all get
half-a-dozen invitations to supper most nights, but


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR II5
“We will meet you in the hall in five minutes,” she
said. “Then we can all go together and find Mr.
Selingman.”


CHAPTER XV
Selingman's supper party was in some respects
both distinctive and unusual. Norgate, looking
around him, thought that he had never in his life
been among such a motley assemblage of people.
There were eight or nine musical comedy young
ladies; a couple of young soldiers, one of whom he
knew slightly, who had arrived as escorts to two of
the young ladies; Prince Edward of Lenemaur; a
youthful peer, who by various misdemeanours had
placed himself outside the pale of any save the most
Bohemian society, and several other men whose faces
were unfamiliar. They occupied a round table just
inside the door of the restaurant, and they sat there
till long after the lights were lowered. The conversa-
tion all the time was of the most general and frivo-
lous description, and Selingman, as the hour grew
later, seemed to grow larger and redder and more
joyous. The only hint at any serious conversation
came from the musical comedy star who sat at Nor-
gate’s left.
“Do you know our host very well?” she asked
Norgate once.
“I am afraid I can’t say that I know him well at
all,” Norgate replied. “I met him in the train com-
ing from Berlin, a few nights ago.”
“He is the most original person,” she declared.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 117
“He entertains whenever he has a chance; he makes
new friends every hour; he eats and drinks and seems
always to be enjoying himself like an overgrown
baby. And yet, all the time there is such a very
serious side to him. One feels that he has a purpose
in it all.”
“Perhaps he has,” Norgate ventured.
“Perhaps he has,” she agreed, lowering her voice
a little. “At least, I believe one thing. I believe
that he is a good German and yet a great friend of
England.”
“You don’t find the two incompatible, then?”
“I do not,” the young lady replied firmly. “I do
not understand everything, of course, but I am half
German and half English, so I can appreciate both
sides, and I do believe that Mr. Selingman, if he had
not been so immersed in his business, might have been
a great politician.”
The conversation drifted into other channels.
Norgate was obliged to give some attention to the
more frivolous young lady on his right. The gen-
eral exodus to the bar smoking-room only took place
long after midnight. Every one was speaking of
going on to a supper club to dance, and Norgate
quietly slipped away. He took a hurried leave of his
host.
“You will excuse me, won’t you?” he begged.
“Enjoyed my evening tremendously. I’d like you to
come and dine with me one night.”
“We will meet at the club to-morrow afternoon,”
Selingman declared. “But why not come on with us
now? You are not weary? They are taking me to


II.8 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
a supper club, these young people. I have engaged
myself to dance with Miss Morgen – I, who weigh
nineteen stone! It will be a thing to see. Come
with us.”
Norgate excused himself and left the place a mo-
ment later. It was a fine night, and he walked slowly
towards Pall Mall, deep in thought. Outside one
of the big clubs on the right-hand side, a man de-
scended from a taxicab just as Norgate was passing.
They almost ran into one another.
“Norgate, you reprobate!”
“Hebblethwaite | *
The latter passed his arm through the young
man’s and led him towards the club steps.
“Come in and have a drink,” he invited. “I am
just up from the House. I do wish you could get
some of your military friends to stop worrying us,
Norgate. Two hours to-night have been absolutely
wasted because they would talk National Service and
heckle us about the territorials.”
“I’ll have the drink, although heaven knows I
don’t need any 1 ° Norgate replied. “As for the
rest, I am all on the side of the hecklers. You ought
to know that.”
They drew two easy-chairs together in a corner
of the great, deserted smoking-room, and Hebble-
thwaite ordered the whiskies and sodas.
“Yes,” he remarked, “I forgot. You are on the
other side, aren’t you? I haven’t a word to say
against the navy. We spend more money than is
necessary upon it, and I stick out for economy when-
ever I can. But as regards the army, my theory is


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR II9
that it is useless. It’s only a temptation to us to
meddle in things that don’t concern us. The navy
is sufficient to defend these shores, if any one were
foolish enough to wish to attack us. If we need
an army at all, we should need one ten times the size,
but we don’t. Nature has seen to that. Yet to-
night, when I was particularly anxious to get on with
some important domestic legislation, we had to sit
and listen to hours of prosy military talk, the pos-
sibilities of this and that. They don’t realise, these
brain-fogged ex-military men, that we are living in
days of common sense. Before many years have
passed, war will belong to the days of romance.”
“For a practical politician, Hebblethwaite,” Nor-
gate pronounced, “you have some of the rottenest
ideas I ever knew. You know perfectly well that if
Germany attacked France, we are almost committed
to chip in. We couldn't sit still, could we, and see
Calais and Boulogne, Dieppe and Ostend, fortified
against us?”
“If Germany should attack France!” Hebble-
thwaite repeated. “If Prussia should send an expe-
ditionary force to Cornwall, or the Siamese should
declare themselves on the side of the Ulster men!
We must keep in politics to possibilities that are rea-
sonable.”
“Take another view of the same case, then,” Nor-
gate continued. “Supposing Germany should vio-
late Belgium’s independence?”
“You silly idiot!” Hebblethwaite exclaimed, as he
took a long draught of his whisky and soda, lit a
cigar, and leaned back in his chair, “the neutrality


I2O THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
of Belgium is guaranteed by a treaty, actually signed
by Germany l’”
“Supposing she should break her treaty?” Nor-
gate persisted. “I told you what I heard in the
train the other night. It isn't for nothing that that
sort of work is going on.”
Hebblethwaite shook his head.
“You are incorrigible, Norgate! Germany is one
of the Powers of Europe undoubtedly possessing a
high sense of honour and rectitude of conduct. If
any nation possesses a national conscience, and an
appreciation of national ethics, they do. Germany
would be less likely than any nation in the world to
break a treaty.”
“Hebblethwaite,” Norgate declared solemnly, “if
you didn’t understand the temperament and charac-
ter of your constituents better than you do the Ger-
man temperament and character, you would never
have set your foot across the threshold of West-
minster. The fact of it is you’re a domestic politi-
cian of the very highest order, but as regards foreign
affairs and the greater side of international politics,
well, all I can say is you’ve as little grasp of them
as a local mayor might have.”
“Look here, young fellow,” Hebblethwaite pro-
tested, “do you know that you are talking to a Cabi-
net Minister?”
“To a very possible Prime Minister,” Norgate
replied, “but I am going to tell you what I think,
all the same. I’m fed up with you all. I bring you
some certain and sure information, proving conclu-
sively that Germany is maintaining an extraordinary


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I2 I
system of espionage over here, and you tell me to
mind my own business. I tell you, Hebblethwaite,
you and your Party are thundering good legislators,
but you’ll ruin the country before you’ve finished.
I’ve had enough. It seems to me we thoroughly de-
serve the shaking up we’re going to get. I am going
to turn German spy myself and work for the other
side.”
“You do, if there's anything in it,” Hebblethwaite
retorted, with a grin. “I promise we won’t arrest
you. You shall hop around the country at your
own sweet will, preach Teutonic doctrines, and pave
the way for the coming of the conquerors. You'll
have to keep away from our arsenals and our flying
places, because our Service men are so prejudiced.
Short of that you can do what you like.”
Norgate finished his cigar in silence. Then he
threw the end into the fireplace, finished his whisky
and soda, and rose.
“Hebblethwaite,” he said, “this is the second time
you’ve treated me like this. I shall give you another
chance. There’s just one way I may be of use, and
I am going to take it on. If I get into trouble about
it, it will be your fault, but next time I come and
talk with you, you’ll have to listen to me if I shove
the words down your throat. Good night!”
“Good night, Norgate,” Hebblethwaite replied
pleasantly. “What you want is a week or two’s
change somewhere, to get this anti-Teuton fever out
of your veins. I think we’ll send you to Tokyo and
let you have a turn with the geishas in the cherry
groves.”


CHAPTER XVI
Throughout those weeks and months of tangled,
lurid sensations, of amazing happenings which were
yet to come, Norgate never once forgot that illumi-
native rush of fierce yet sweet feelings which sud-
denly thrilled his pulses. He understood in that
moment the intolerable depression of the last few
days. He realised the absolute advent of the one
experience hitherto missing from his life. The very
intensity of his feelings kept him silent, kept him un-
responsive to her impetuous but unspoken welcome.
Her arms dropped to her side, her lips for a moment
quivered. Her voide, notwithstanding her efforts to
control it, shook a little. She was no longer the
brilliant young Court beauty of Vienna. She was a
tired and disappointed girl.
“You are surprised—I should not have come
here! It was such a foolish impulse.”
She caught up her gloves feverishly, but Nor-
gate’s moment of stupefaction had passed. He
clasped her hands.
“Forgive me,” he begged. “It is really you —
Anna | *
His words were almost incoherent, but his tone
was convincing. Her fears passed away.
“You don’t wonder that I was a little surprised,
do you?” he exclaimed. “You were not only the


I24 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
last person whom I was thinking of, but you were
certainly the last person whom I expected to see in
London or to welcome here.”
“But why?” she asked. “I told you that I
came often to this country.”
“I remember,” Norgate admitted. “Yet I never
ventured to hope —”
“Of course I should not have come here,” she
interrupted. “It was absurd of me, and at such
an hour! And yet I am staying only a few hundred
yards away. The temptation to-night was irresist-
ible. I felt as one sometimes does in this queer,
enormous city — lonely. I telephoned, and your
servant, who answered me, said that you were ex-
pected back at any moment. Then I came myself.”
“You cannot imagine that I am not glad to see
you,” he said earnestly.
“I want to believe that you are glad,” she an-
swered. “I have been restless ever since you left.
Tell me at once, what did they say to you here?”
“I am practically shelved,” he told her bitterly.
“In twelve months’ time, perhaps, I may be offered
something in America or Asia — countries where
diplomacy languishes. In a word, your mighty auto-
crat has spoken the word, and I am sacrificed.”
She moved towards the window.
“I am stifled!” she exclaimed. “Open it wide,
please.”
He threw it open. They looked out eastwards.
The roar of the night was passing. Here and there
were great black spaces. On the Thames a sky-sign
or two remained. The blue, opalescent glare from


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I25
the Gaiety dome still shone. The curving lights
which spanned the bridges and fringed the Embank-
ment still glittered. The air, even here, high up as
they were on the seventh story of the building, seemed
heavy and lifeless.
“There is a storm coming,” she said. “I have
felt it for days.”
She stood looking out, pale, her large eyes strained
as though seeking to read something which eluded
her in the clouds or the shadows which hung over the
city. She had rather the air of a frightened but
eager child. She rested her fingers upon his arm, not
exactly affectionately, but as though she felt the
need of some protection.
“Do you know,” she whispered, “the feeling of
this storm has been in my heart for days. I am
afraid — afraid for all of us!”
“Afraid of what?” he asked gently.
“Afraid,” she went on, “because it seems to me
that I can hear, at times like this, when one is alone,
the sound of what one of your writers called foot-
steps amongst the hills, footsteps falling upon wool,
muffled yet somehow ominous. There is trouble com-
ing. I know it. I am sure of it.”
“In this country they do not think so,” he re-
minded her. “Most of our great statesmen of to-
day have come to the conclusion that there will be no
more war.”
“You have no great statesmen,” she answered sim-
ply. “You have plenty of men who would make
very fine local administrators, but you have no states-
men, or you would have provided for what is coming.”


I26 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
There was a curious conviction in her words, a
sense of one speaking who has seen the truth.
“Tell me,” he asked, “is there anything that
you know of —”
“Ah! but that I may not tell you,” she inter-
rupted, turning away from the window. “Of my-
self just now I say nothing — only of you. I am
here for a day or two. It is through me that you
have suffered this humiliation. I wanted to know
just how far it went. Is there anything I can
do? "
“What could any one do?” he asked. “I am the
victim of circumstances.”
“But for a whole year!” she exclaimed. “You
are not like so many young Englishmen. You do
not wish to spend your time playing polo and golf,
and shooting. You must do something. What are
you going to do with that year?”
He moved across the room and took a cigarette
from a box.
“Give me something to drink, please,” she begged.
He opened a cupboard in his sideboard and gave
her some soda-water. She had still the air of wait-
ing for his reply.
“What am I going to do?” he repeated. “Well,
here I am with an idle twelve months. It makes no
difference to anybody what time I get up, what time
I go to bed, with whom or how I spend the day. I
suppose to some people it would sound like Paradise.
To me it is hateful. Shall I be your secretary?”
“How do you know that I need a secretary?” she
asked.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 127
“How should I?” he replied. “Yet you are not
altogether an idler in life, are you?”
For a moment she did not answer. The silence in
the room was almost impressive. He looked at her
over the top of the soda-water syphon whose handle
he was manipulating.
“What do you imagine might be my occupation,
then?” she asked.
“I have heard it suggested,” he said slowly, “that
you have been a useful intermediary in carrying mes-
sages of the utmost importance between the Kaiser
and the Emperor of Austria.”
“Your Intelligence Department is not so bad,”
she remarked. “It is true. Why not? At the
German Court I count for little, perhaps. In Aus-
tria my father was the Emperor's only personal
friend. My mother was scarcely popular there —
she was too completely English — but since my
father died the Emperor will scarcely let me stay a
week away. Yes, your information is perhaps true.
I will supplement it, if you like. Since our little
affair in the Café de Berlin, the Kaiser, who went out
of his way to insist upon your removal from Berlin,
has notified the Emperor that he would prefer to re-
ceive his most private dispatches either through the
regular diplomatic channels or by some other mes-
senger.”
Norgate’s emphatic expletive was only half-stifled
as she continued.
“For myself,” she said with a shrug, “I am not
sorry. I found it very interesting, but of late those
feelings of which I have told you have taken hold of


I28 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
me. I have felt as though a terrible shadow were
brooding over the world.”
“Let me ask you once more,” he begged. “Why
are you in London?”
“I received a wire from the Emperor,” she ex-
plained, “instructing me to return at once to Vienna.
If I go there, I know very well that I shall not be
allowed to leave the city. I have been trusted im-
plicitly, and they will keep me practically a prisoner.
They will think that I may feel a resentment against
the Kaiser, and they will be afraid. Therefore, I
came here. I have every excuse for coming. It is
according to my original plans. You will find that
by to-morrow morning I shall have a second message
from Vienna. All the same, I am not sure that I
shall go.”
There was a ring at the bell. Norgate started,
and Anna looked at the clock.
“Who is that?” she asked. “Do you see the
time?”
Norgate moved to the door and threw it open.
A waiter stood there.
“What do you want?” demanded Norgate.
The man pointed to the indicator.
“The bell rang, sir,” he replied. “Is there any-
thing I can get for you?”
“I rang no bell,” Norgate asserted. “Your indi-
cator must be out of order.”
Norgate would have closed the door, but Anna
intervened.
“Tell the waiter I wish to speak to him,” she
begged.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I29
The man advanced at once into the room and
glanced interrogatively at Anna. She addressed
him suddenly in Austrian, and he replied without hesi-
tation. She nodded. Then she turned to Norgate
and laughed softly.
“You see how perfect the system is,” she said.
“I was followed here, passed on to your floor-waiter.
You are a spy, are you not?” she added, turning to
the man. “But of course you are!”
“Madame!” the man protested. “I do not un-
derstand.”
“You can go away,” she replied. “You can tell
Herr Selingman in your morning's report that I
came to Mr. Norgate’s rooms at an early hour in
the morning and spent an hour talking with him.
You can go now.”
The man withdrew without remark. He was a
quiet, inoffensive-looking person, with sallow com-
plexion, suave but silent manners. Norgate closed
the door behind him.
“A victim of the system which all Europe knows
of except you people,” she remarked lightly. “Well,
after this I must be careful. Walk with me to my
hotel.”
“Of course,” he assented.
They made their way along the silent corridors to
the lift, out into the streets, empty of traffic now
save for the watering-carts and street scavengers.
“Will there be trouble for you,” Norgate asked
at last, “ because of this?”
“There is more trouble in my own heart,” she told
him quietly. “I feel strangely disturbed, uncertain


I30 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
which way to move. Let me take your arm — so.
I like to walk like that. Somehow I think, Mr.
Francis Norgate, that that little fracas in the Café
de Berlin is going to make a great difference in both
our lives. I know now what I had begun to believe.
Like all the trusted agents of sovereigns, I have be-
come an object of suspicion. Well, we shall see. At
least I am glad to know that there is some one whom
I can trust. Perhaps to-morrow I will tell you all
that is in my heart. We might even, if you wished
it, if you were willing to face a few risks, we might
even work together to hold back the thunder. So!
Good night, my friend,” she added, turning suddenly
around.
He held her hand for a moment as they stood to-
gether on the pavement outside her hotel. For a
single moment he fancied that there was a change in
that curious personal aloofness which seemed so dis-
tinctive of her. It passed, however, as she turned
from him with her usual half-insolent, half gracious
little nod.
“To-morrow,” she directed, “you must ring me
up. Let it be at eleven o’clock.”


CHAPTER XVII
The Ambassador glanced at the clock as he en-
tered his library to greet his early morning visitor.
It was barely nine o’clock.
“Dear friend,” he exclaimed, as he held out his
hands, “I am distressed to keep you waiting! Such
zeal in our affairs must, however, not remain unno-
ticed. I will remember it in my reports.”
Anna smiled as he stooped to kiss her fingers.
“I had special reasons,” she explained, “for my
haste. I was disappointed, indeed, that I could not
see you last night.”
“I was at Windsor,” her host remarked. “Now
come, sit there in the easy-chair by the side of my
table. My secretaries have not yet arrived. We
shall be entirely undisturbed. I have ordered coffee
here, of which we will partake together. A compro-
mising meal to share, dear Baroness, but in the
library of my own house it may be excused. The
Princess sends her love. She will be glad if you will
go to her apartments after we have finished our talk.”
A servant entered with a tray, spread a cloth on
a small round table, upon which he set out coffee,
with rolls and butter and preserves. For a few mo-
ments they talked lightly of the weather, of her
crossing, of mutual friends in Berlin and Vienna.


I32 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Then Anna, as soon as they were alone, leaned a
little forward in her chair.
“You know that I have a sort of mission to you,”
she said. “I should not call it that, perhaps, but it
comes to very nearly the same thing. The Emperor
has charged me to express to you and to Count
Lanyoki his most earnest desire that if the things
should come which we know of, you both maintain
your position here at any cost. The Emperor's last
words to me were: “If war is to come, it may be the
will of God. We are ready, but there is one country
which must be kept from the ranks of our enemies.
That country is England. England must be dealt
with diplomatically.” He looks across the continent
to you, Prince. This is the friendly message which
I have brought from his own lips.”
The Prince stirred his coffee thoughtfully. He
was a man just passing middle-age, with grey hair,
thin in places but carefully trimmed, brushed sedu-
lously back from his high forehead. His moustache,
too, was grey, and his face was heavily lined, but his
eyes, clear and bright, were almost the eyes of a
young man.
“You can reassure the Emperor,” he declared.
“As you may imagine, my supply of information
here is plentiful. If those things should come that
we know of, it is my firm belief that with some rea-
sonable yet nominal considerations, this Government
will never lend itself to war.”
“You really believe that?” she asked earnestly.
“I do,” her companion assured her. “I try to
be fair in my judgments. London is a pleasant city


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I33
to live in, and English people are agreeable and well-
bred, but they are a people absolutely without vital
impulses. Patriotism belongs to their poetry books.
Indolence has stagnated their blood. They are like
a nation under a spell, with their faces turned towards
the pleasant and desirable things. Only a few
months ago, they even further reduced the size of
their ridiculous army and threw cold water upon a
scheme for raising untrained help in case of emer-
gency. Even their navy estimates are passed with
difficulty. The Government which is conducting the
destinies of a people like this, which believes that war
belongs to a past age, is never likely to become a
menace to us.”
Anna drew a little sigh and lit the cigarette which
the Prince passed her. She threw herself back in
her chair with an air of contentment.
“It is so pleasant once more to be among the big
things,” she declared. “In Berlin I think they are
not fond of me, and they are so pompous and se-
cretive. Tell me, dear Prince, will you not be kinder
to me? Tell me what is really going to happen?”
He moved his chair a little closer to hers.
“I see no reason,” he said cautiously, “why you
should not be told. Events, then, will probably move
in this direction. Provocation will be given by
Servia. That is easily arranged. Tension will be
caused, Austria will make enormous demands, Russia
will remonstrate, and, before any one has time to
breathe, the clouds will part to let the lightnings
through. If anything, we are over-ready, straining
with over-readiness.”


I34 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“And the plan of campaign?”
“Austria and Italy,” the Prince continued slowly,
“will easily keep Russia in check. Germany will
seize Belgium and rush through to Paris. She will
either impose her terms there or leave a second-class
army to conclude the campaign. There will be
plenty of time for her then to turn back and fall in
with her allies against Russia.”
“And England?” Anna asked. “Supposing?”
The Prince tapped the table with his forefinger.
“Here,” he announced, “we conquer with diplo-
macy. We have imbued the present Cabinet, even
the Minister who is responsible for the army, with
the idea that we stand for peace. We shall seem to
be the attacked party in this war. We shall say to
England —“Remain neutral. It is not your quarrel,
and we will be capable of a great act of self-sacrifice.
We will withhold our fleet from bombarding the
French towns. England could do no more than deal
with our fleet if she were at war. She shall do the
same without raising a finger.” No country could
refuse so sane and businesslike an offer, especially
a country which will at once count upon its fingers
how much it will save by not going to war.”
“And afterwards?”
The Prince shrugged his shoulders. “Afterwards
is inevitable.”
“Please go on,” she insisted.
“We shall occupy the whole of the coast from
Antwerp to Havre. The indemnity which France
and Russia will pay us will make us the mightiest
nation on earth. We shall play with England as a


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I35
cat with a mouse, and when the time comes. .
Well, perhaps that will do,” the Prince concluded,
smiling.
Anna was silent for several moments.
“I am a woman, you know,” she said simply, “and
this sounds, in a way, terrible. Yet for months I
have felt it coming.”
“There is nothing terrible about it,” the Prince
replied, “if you keep the great principles of prog-
ress always before you. If a million or so of lives
are sacrificed, the great Germany of the future, gath-
ering under her wings the peoples of the world, will
raise them to a pitch of culture and contentment and
happiness which will more than atone for the sacri-
fices of to-day. It is, after all, the future to which
we must look.”
A telephone bell rang at the Prince’s elbow. He
listened for a moment and nodded.
“An urgent visitor demands a moment of my
time,” he said, rising.
“I have taken already too much,” Anna declared,
“but I felt it was time that I heard the truth. They
fence with me so in Berlin, and, believe me, Prince
Herschfeld, in Vienna the Emperor is almost wholly
ignorant of what is planned.”
The door was opened behind them. The Prince
turned around. A young man had ushered in Herr
Selingman. For a moment the latter looked steadily
at Anna. Then he glanced at the Ambassador as
though questioningly.
“You two must have met,” the Prince murmured.
“We have met,” Anna declared, smiling, as she


136 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
made her way towards the door, “but we do not know
one another. It is best like that. Herr Selingman
and I work in the same army —”
“But I, madame, am the sergeant,” Selingman in-
terrupted, with a low bow, “whilst you are upon the
staff.”
She laughed as she made her adieux and departed.
The door closed heavily behind her. Selingman came
a little further into the room.
“You have read your dispatches this morning,
Prince?” he asked.
“Not yet,” the latter replied. “Is there news,
then?”
Selingman pointed to the closed door. “You have
spoken for long with her?”
“Naturally,” the Prince assented. “She is a
confidential friend of the Emperor. She has been
entrusted for the last two years with all the private
dispatches between Vienna and Berlin.”
“In your letters you will find news,” Selingman
declared. “She is pronounced suspect. She is un-
der my care at this moment. A report was brought
to me half an hour ago that she was here. I came
on at once myself. I trust that I am in time?”
The Prince stood quite silent for a moment.
“Fortunately,” he answered coolly, “I have told
her nothing.”


CHAPTER XVIII
As Norgate entered the premises of Selingman,
Horsfal and Company a little later on the same
morning he looked around him in some surprise.
He had expected to find a deserted warehouse —
probably only an office. He saw instead all the evi-
dences of a thriving and prosperous business. Drays
were coming and going from the busy door. Crates
were piled up to the ceiling, clerks with notebooks in
their hands passed continually back and forth. A
small boy in a crowded office accepted his card and
disappeared. In a few minutes he led Norgate into
a waiting-room and handed him a paper.
“Mr. Selingman is engaged with a buyer for a
few moments, sir,” he reported. “He will see you
presently.”
Norgate looked through the windows out into the
warehouse. There was no doubt whatever that this
was a genuine and considerable trading concern.
Presently the door of the inner office opened, and he
heard Mr. Selingman's hearty tones.
“You have done well for yourself and well for your
firm, sir,” he was saying. “There is no one in Ger-
many or in the world who can produce crockery at
the price we do. They will give you a confirmation
of the order in the office. Ah! my young friend,” he


138 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
went on, turning to Norgate, “you have kept your
word, then. You are not a customer, but you may
walk in. I shall make no money out of you, but we
will talk together.”
Norgate passed on into a comfortably furnished
office, a little redolent of cigar smoke. Selingman
bit off the end of a cigar and pushed the box towards
his visitor.
“Try one of these,” he invited. “German made,
but Havana tobacco — mild as milk.”
“Thank you,” Norgate answered. “I don’t
smoke cigars in the morning. I’ll have a cigarette,
if I may.”
“As you will. What do you think of us now that
you have found your way here?”
“Your business seems to be genuine enough, at
all events,” Norgate observed.
“Genuine? Of course it is l’” Selingman declared
emphatically. “Do you think I should be fool
enough to be connected with a bogus affair? My
father and my grandfather before me were manu-
facturers of crockery. I can assure you that I am
a very energetic and a very successful business man.
If I have interests in greater things, those interests
have developed naturally, side by side with my com-
mercial success. When I say that I am a German,
that to me means more, much more, than if I were
to declare myself a native of any other country in
the world. Sit opposite to me there. I have a
quarter of an hour to spare. I can show you, if you
will, over a thousand designs of various articles. I
can show you orders — genuine orders, mind — from


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I39
some of your big wholesale houses, which would as-
tonish you. Or, if you prefer it, we can talk of
affairs from another point of view. What do you
say?”
“My interest in your crockery,” Norgate an-
nounced, “is non-existent. I have come to hear your
offer. I have decided to retire — temporarily, at
any rate — from the Diplomatic Service. I under-
stand that I am in disgrace, and I resent it. I re-
sent having had to leave Berlin except at my own
choice. I am looking for a job in some other walk
of life.”
Selingman nodded approvingly.
“Forgive me,” he said, “but it is true, then, that
you are in some way dependent upon your profes-
Sion?”
“I am not a pauper outside it,” Norgate replied,
“but that is not the sole question. I need work, an
interest in life, something to think about. I must
either find something to do, or I shall go to Abys-
sinia. I should prefer an occupation here.”
“I can help you,” Selingman said slowly, “if you
are a young man of common sense. I can put you
in the way of earning, if you will, a thousand pounds
a year and your travelling expenses, without inter-
fering very much with your present mode of life.”
“Selling crockery?”
Selingman flicked the ash from the end of his
cigar. He shook his head good-naturedly.
“I am a judge of character, young man,” he de-
clared. “I pride myself upon that accomplishment.
I know very well that in you we have one with brains.


I40 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Nevertheless, I do not believe that you would sell my
crockery.”
“It seems easy enough,” Norgate observed.
“It may seem easy,” Selingman objected, “but it
is not. You have not, I am convinced, the gifts of a
salesman. You would not reason and argue with
these obstinate British shopkeepers. No! Your
value to me would lie in other directions — in your
social position, your opportunities of meeting with
a class above the commercial one in which I have
made my few English friends, and in your own in-
telligence.”
“I scarcely see of what value these things would
be to a vendor of crockery.”
“They would be of no value at all,” Selingman
admitted. “It is not in the crockery business that
I propose to make use of you. I believe that we
both know that. We may dismiss it from our minds.
It is only fencing with words. I will take you a
little further. You have heard, by chance, of the
Anglo-German Peace Society?”
“The name sounds familiar,” Norgate confessed.
“I can’t say that I know anything about it.”
“It was I who inaugurated that body,” Selingman
announced. “It is I who direct its interests.”
“Congratulate you, I'm sure. You must find it
uphill work sometimes.”
“It is uphill work all the time,” the German
agreed. “Our great object is, as you can guess from
the title, to promote good-feeling between the two
countries, to heal up all possible breaches, to soothe
and dispel that pitiful jealousy, of which, alas! too


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I4I
much exists. It is not easy, Mr. Norgate. It is
not easy, my young friend. I meet with many dis-
appointments. Yet it is a great and worthy under-
taking.”
“It sounds all right,” Norgate observed.
“Where do I come in?”
“I will explain. To carry out the aims of our
society, there is much information which we are con-
tinually needing. People in Germany are often
misled by the Press here. Facts and opinions are
presented to them often from an unpalatable point
of view. Furthermore, there is a section of the
Press which, so far from being on our side, seems
deliberately to try to stir up ill-feeling between the
two countries. We want to get behind the Press.
For that purpose we need to know the truth about
many matters; and as the truth is a somewhat rare
commodity, we are willing to pay for it. Now we
come face to face. It will be your business, if you
accept my offer, to collect such facts as may be use-
ful to us.”
“I see,” Norgate remarked dubiously, “ or rather
I don’t see at all. Give me an example of the sort
of facts you require.”
Mr. Selingman leaned a little forward in his chair.
He was warming to his subject.
“By all means. There is the Irish question,
then.”
“The Irish question,” Norgate repeated. “But
of what interest can that be to you in Germany?”
“Listen,” Selingman continued. “Just as you
in London have great newspapers which seem...to de-


I42 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
vote themselves to stirring up bitter feeling between
our two countries, so we, alas! in Germany, have
newspapers and journals which seem to devote all
their energies to the same object. Now in this Irish
question the action of your Government has been
very much misrepresented in that section of our
Press and much condemned. I should like to get at
the truth from an authoritative source. I should
like to get it in such a form that I can present it
fairly and honestly to the public of Germany.”
“That sounds reasonable enough,” Norgate ad-
mitted. “There are several pamphlets —”
“I do not want pamphlets,” Selingman inter-
rupted. “I want an actual report from Ulster and
Dublin of the state of feeling in the country, and,
if possible, interviews with prominent people. For
this the society would pay a bonus over and above
the travelling expenses and your salary. If you ac-
cept my offer, this is probably one of the first tasks
I should commit to you.”
“Give me a few more examples,” Norgate
begged.
“Another subject,” Selingman continued, “upon
which there is wide divergence of opinions in Ger-
many, and a great deal of misrepresentation, is the
attitude of certain of your Cabinet Ministers towards
the French entente: how far they would support it,
at what they would stop short.”
“Isn’t that rather a large order?” Norgate ven-
tured. “I don’t number many Cabinet Ministers
among my personal friends.”
Selingman puffed away at his cigar for a moment.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I43
Then he withdrew it from his mouth and expelled
large volumes of smoke.
“You are, I believe, intimately acquainted with
Mr. Hebblethwaite?”
“How the mischief did you know that?” Norgate
demanded.
“Our society,” Selingman announced, smiling pon-
derously, “has ramifications in every direction. It
is our business to know much. We are collectors of
information of every sort and nature.”
“Seems to have been part of your business to fol-
low me about,” observed Norgate.
“Perhaps so. If we thought it good for us to
have you followed about, we certainly should,” Seling-
man admitted. “You see, in Germany,” he added,
leaning back in his chair, “we lay great stress upon
detail and intelligence. We get to know things: not
the smattering of things, like you over here are too
often content with, but to know them thoroughly and
understand them. Nothing ever takes us by sur-
prise. We are always forewarned. So far as any
one can, we read the future.”
“You are a very great nation, without a doubt,”
Norgate acknowledged, “but my quarter of an hour
is coming to an end. Tell me what else you would
expect from me if I accepted this post?”
“For the moment, I can think of nothing,” Seling-
man replied. “There are many ways in which we
might make use of you, but to name them now would
be to look a little too far into the future.”
“By whom should I really be employed?”
“By the Anglo-German Peace Society,” Seling-


I44 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
man answered promptly. “Let me say a word more
about that society. I am proud of it. I am one of
those prominent business men who are responsible
for its initiation. I have given years of time and
thought to it. All our efforts are directed towards
promoting a better understanding with England,
towards teaching the two countries to appreciate one
another. But in the background there is always
something else. It is useless to deny that the mis-
trust existing between the two countries has brought
them more than once almost to the verge of war.
What we want is to be able, at critical times, to
throw oil upon the troubled waters, and if the worst
should come, if a war really should break out, then
we want to be able to act as peacemakers, to heal as
soon as possible any little sores that there may be,
and to enter afterwards upon a greater friendship
with a purified England.”
“It sounds very interesting,” Norgate confessed.
“I had an idea that you were proposing something
quite different.”
“Please explain.”
“To be perfectly frank with you,” Norgate ac-
knowledged, “I thought you wanted me to do the
ordinary spy business — traces of fortresses, and
particulars about guns and aeroplanes —”
“Rubbish, my dear fellow!” Selingman inter-
rupted. “Rubbish! Those things we leave to our
military department, and pray that the question of
their use may never arise. We are concerned wholly
with economic and social questions, and our great
aim is not war but peace.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I45
“Very well, then,” Norgate decided, “I accept.
When shall I start?”
Selingman laid his hand upon the other’s shoulder
as he rose to his feet.
“Young man,” he said, “you have come to a wise
decision. Your salary will commence from the first
of this month. Continue to live as usual. Let me
have the opportunity of seeing you at the club, and
let me know each day where you can be found. I
will give you your instructions from day to day.
You will be doing a great work, and, mind you, a
patriotic work. If ever your conscience should trou-
ble you, remember that. You are working not for
Germany but for England.”
“I will always remember that,” Norgate promised,
as he turned away.


CHAPTER XIX
Norgate found Anna waiting for him in the hall
of the smaller hotel, a little further westward, to
which she had moved. He looked admiringly at her
cool white muslin gown and the perfection of her
somewhat airy toilette.
“You are five minutes late,” she remonstrated.
“I had to go into the city,” he apologised. “It
was rather an important engagement. Soon I must
tell you all about it.”
She looked at him a little curiously.
“I will be patient,” promised Anna, “ and ask no
questions.”
“You are still depressed?”
“Horribly,” she confessed. “I do not know why,
but London is getting on my nerves. It is so hate-
fully, stubbornly, obstinately imperturbable. I
would find another word, but it eludes me. I think
you would call it smug. And it is so noisy. Can
we not go somewhere for lunch where it is tranquil,
where one can rest and get away from this roar?”
“We could go to Ranelagh, if you liked,” sug-
gested Norgate. “There are some polo matches on
this afternoon, but it will be quiet enough for lunch.”
“I should love it!” she exclaimed. “Let us go
quickly.”
They lunched in a shady corner of the restaurant


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I47
and sat afterwards under a great oak tree in a retired
spot at the further end of the gardens. Anna was
still a little thoughtful.
“Do you know,” she told her companion, “that I
have received a hint to present myself in Berlin as
soon as possible?”
“Are you going?” Norgate demanded quickly.
“I am not sure,” she answered. “I feel that I
must, and yet, in a sense, I do not like to go. I have
a feeling that they do not mean to let me out of
Berlin again. They think that I know too much.”
“But why should they suddenly lose faith in
you?” Norgate asked.
“Perhaps because the end is so near,” she replied.
“They know that I have strong English sympathies.
Perhaps they think that they would not bear the
strain of the times which are coming.”
“You are an even greater pessimist than I myself,”
Norgate observed. “Do you really believe that the
position is so critical?”
“I know it,” she assured him. “I will not tell
you all my reasons. There is no need for me to
break a trust without some definite object. It seems
to me that if your Secret Service Department were
worth anything at all, your country would be in a
state almost of panic. What is it they are playing
down there? Polo, isn't it? There are six or eight
military teams, crowds of your young officers making
holiday. And all the time Krupps are working over-
time, working night and day, and surrounded by sen-
tries who shoot at sight any stranger. There are
parts of the country, even now, under martial law.
=


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I49
I have made up my mind on one point, at least. I
will stay here for a few days longer. London at this
time of the year is wonderful. Besides, I have prom-
ised the Princess of Thurm that I will go to Ascot
with her. Why should we talk of serious things any
longer? Let us have a little rest. Let us prome-
nade there with those other people, and listen to the
band, and have some tea afterwards.”
Norgate rose with alacrity, and they strolled
across the lawns and down towards the polo field.
Very soon they found themselves meeting friends in
every direction. Anna extricated herself from a
little group of acquaintances who had suddenly
claimed her and came over to Norgate.
“Prince Herschfeld wants to talk to me for a few
minutes,” she whispered. “I think I should like to
hear what he has to say. The Princess is there, too,
whom I have scarcely seen. Will you come and be
presented?”
“Might I leave you with them for a few minutes?”
Norgate suggested. “There is a man here whom I
want to talk to. I will come back for you in half
an hour.”
“You must meet the Prince first,” she insisted.
“He was interested when he heard who you were.”
She turned to the little group who were awaiting
her return. The Ambassador moved a little forward.
“Prince,” she said, “may I present to you Mr.
Francis Norgate? Mr. Norgate has just come from
Berlin.”
“Not with the kindliest feelings towards us, I am
afraid,” remarked the Prince, holding out his hand.


I50 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I hope, however, that you will not judge us, as a
nation, too severely.”
“On the contrary, I was quite prepared to like
Germany,” Norgate declared. “I was simply the
victim of a rather unfortunate happening.”
“There are many others besides myself who sin-
cerely regret it,” the Prince said courteously.
“You are kind enough to leave the Baroness for a
little time in our charge. We will take the greatest
care of her, and I hope that when you return you
will give me the great pleasure of presenting you to
the Princess.”
“You are very kind,” Norgate murmured.
“We shall meet again, then,” the Prince declared,
as he turned away with Anna by his side.
“In half an hour,” Anna whispered, smiling at
him over her shoulder.


CHAPTER XX
The Right Honourable John William Heb-
blethwaite strolled along by the rails of the polo
ground, exchanging greetings with friends, feeling
very well content with himself and the world gener-
ally. A difficult session was drawing towards an end.
The problem which had defeated so many govern-
ments seemed at last, under his skilful treatment,
capable of solution. Furthermore, the session had
been one which had added to his reputation both as
an orator and a statesman. There had been an as-
tonishingly flattering picture of him in an illustrated
paper that week, and he was exceedingly pleased with
the effect of the white hat which he was wearing at
almost a jaunty angle. He was a great man and he
knew it. Nevertheless, he greeted Norgate with am-
ple condescension and engaged him at once in con-
versation.
“Delighted to see you in such company, my young
friend,” he declared. “I think that half an hour’s
conversation with Prince Herschfeld would put some
of those fire-eating ideas out of your head. That’s
the man whom we have to thank for the everyday im-
provement of our relations with Germany.”
“The Prince has the reputation of being a great
diplomatist,” Norgate remarked.
“Added to which,” Hebblethwaite continued, “he


I52 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
came over here charged, as you might say, almost
with a special mission. He came over here to make
friends with England. He has done it. So long as
we have him in London, there will never be any seri-
ous fear of misunderstanding between the two coun-
tries.”
“What a howling optimist you are!” Norgate ob-
served.
“My young friend,” Hebblethwaite protested, “I
am nothing of the sort. I am simply a man of much
common sense, enjoying, I may add, a few hours’ holi-
day. By-the-by, Norgate, if one might venture to
enquire without indiscretion, who was the remarkably
charming foreign lady whom you were escorting?”
“The Baroness von Haase,” Norgate replied.
“She is an Austrian.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite sighed. He rather posed as an
admirer of the other sex.
“You young fellows,” he declared, “who travel
about the world, are much to be envied. There is an
elegance about the way these foreign women dress,
a care for detail in their clothes and jewellery, and
a carriage which one seldom finds here.”
They had reached the far end of the field, having
turned their backs, in fact, upon the polo altogether.
Norgate suddenly abandoned their conversation.
“Look here,” he said, in an altered tone, “do you
feel inclined to answer a few questions?”
“For publication?” Hebblethwaite asked drily.
“You haven’t turned journalist, by any chance, have
you?”
Norgate shook his head. “Nevertheless,” he ad-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I53
mitted, “I have changed my profession. The fact
is that I have accepted a stipend of a thousand a
year and have become a German spy.”
“Good luck to you!” exclaimed Hebblethwaite,
laughing softly. “Well, fire away, then. You
shall pick the brains of a Cabinet Minister at your
leisure, so long as you’ll give me a cigarette — and
present me, when we have finished, to the Baroness.
The country has no secrets from you, Norgate.
Where will you begin?”
“Well, you’ve been warned, any way,” Norgate re-
minded him, as he offered his cigarette case. “Now
tell me. It is part of my job to obtain from you a
statement of your opinion as to exactly how far our
entente with France is binding upon us.”
Hebblethwaite cleared his throat.
“If this is for publication,” he remarked, “could
you manage a photograph of myself at the head of
the interview, in these clothes and with this hat? I
rather fancy myself to-day. A pocket kodak is, of
course, part of the equipment of a German spy.”
“Sorry,” Norgate regretted, “but that's a bit out
of my line. I am the disappointed diplomatist, do-
ing the dirty work among my late friends. What
we should like to know from Mr. Hebblethwaite, con-
fidentially narrated to a personal friend, is whether,
in the event of a war between Germany and Russia
and France, England would feel it her duty to inter-
vene?”
Hebblethwaite glanced around. The throng of
people had cleared off to watch the concluding stages
of the match.


I54 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I have a sovereign on this,” he remarked, glanc-
ing at his card.
“Which have you backed?” Norgate enquired.
“The Lancers.”
“Well, it’s any odds on the Hussars, so you’ve lost
your money,” Norgate told him.
Hebblethwaite sighed resignedly. “Well,” he
said, “the question you submit is a problem which
has presented itself to us once or twice, although I
may tell you that there isn’t a soul in the Cabinet ex-
cept one who believes in the chance of war. We are
not a fire-eating lot, you know. We are all for
peace, and we believe we are going to have it. How-
ever, to answer your questions more closely, our ob-
ligations depend entirely upon the provocation giv-
ing cause for the war. If France and Russia pro-
voked it in any way, we should remain neutral. If it
were a war of sheer aggression from Germany against
France, we might to a certain extent intervene.
There is not one of us, however, who believes for a
single moment that Germany would enter upon such
a war.”
“When you admit that we might to a certain ex-
tent intervene,” Norgate said, “exactly how should
we do it, I wonder? We are not in a particular state
of readiness to declare war upon anybody or any-
thing, are we?” he added, as they turned around and
strolled once more towards the polo ground.
“We have had no money to waste upon senseless
armaments,” Mr. Hebblethwaite declared severely,
“and if you watch the social measures which we have
passed during the last two years, you will see that


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I55
every penny we could spare has been necessary in or-
der to get them into working order. It is our con-
tention that an army is absolutely unnecessary and
would simply have the effect of provoking military
reprisals. If we, by any chance in the future, were
drawn into war, our navy would be at the service
of our allies. What more could any country ask
than to have assured for them the absolute control
of the sea?”
“That's all very well,” Norgate assented. “It
might be our fair share on paper, and yet it might
not be enough. What about our navy if Antwerp,
Ostend, Dunkirk, Calais, Boulogne, and Havre were
all German ports, as they certainly would be in an
unassisted conflict between the French and the Ger-
mans?”
They were within hearing now of the music of
the band. Hebblethwaite quickened his pace a lit-
tle impatiently.
“Look here,” he protested, “I came down here
for a holiday. I tell you frankly that I believe in
the possibility of war just as much as I believe in
the possibility of an earthquake. My own personal .
feeling is that it is just as necessary to make prepara-
tions against one as the other. There you are, my
German spy, that’s all I have to say to you. Here
are your friends. I must pay my respects to the
Prince, and I should like to meet your charming com-
panion.”
Anna detached herself from a little group of men
at their approach, and Norgate at once introduced
his friend.


I56 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I have only been able to induce Mr. Hebble-
thwaite to talk to me for the last ten minutes,” he de-
clared, “by promising to present him to you.”
“A ceremony which we will take for granted,” she
suggested, holding out her fingers. “Each time I
have come to London, Mr. Hebblethwaite, I have
hoped that I might have this good fortune. You
interest us so much on the Continent.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite bowed and looked as though he
would have liked the interest to have been a little
more personal.
“You see,” Anna explained, as she stood between
the two men, “both Austria and Germany, the two
countries where I spend most of my time, are almost
military ridden. Our great statesmen, or the men
who stand behind them, are all soldiers. You repre-
sent something wholly different. Your nation is as
great and as prosperous as ours, and yet you are a
pacifist, are you not, Mr. Hebblethwaite? You
scorn any preparations for war. You do not believe
in it. You give back the money that we should spend
in military or naval preparations to the people, for
their betterment. It is very wonderful.”
“We act according to our convictions,” Mr. Heb-
blethwaite pronounced. “It is our earnest hope
that we have risen sufficiently in the scale of civilisa-
tion to be able to devote our millions to more moral
objects than the massing of armaments.”
“And you have no fears?” she persisted earnestly.
“You honestly believe that you are justified in let-
ting the fighting spirit of your people lie dormant?”
“I honestly believe it, Baroness,” Mr. Hebble-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I57
thwaite replied. “Life is a battle for all of them, but
the fighting which we recognise is the fight for moral
and commercial supremacy, the lifting of the peo-
ple by education and strenuous effort to a higher
plane of prosperity.”
“Of course,” Anna murmured, “what you say
sounds frightfully convincing. History only will
tell us whether you are in the right.”
“My thirst,” Mr. Hebblethwaite observed, glanc-
ing towards the little tables set out under the trees,
“suggests tea and strawberries.”
“If some one hadn’t offered me tea in a moment
or two,” Anna declared, “I should have gone back
to the Prince, with whom I must confess I was very
bored. Shall we discuss politics or talk nonsense?”
“Talk nonsense,” Mr. Hebblethwaite decided.
“This is my holiday. My brain has stopped work-
ing. I can think of nothing beyond tea and straw-
berries. We will take that table under the elm trees,
and you shall tell us all about Vienna.”


CHAPTER XXI
Norgate, after leaving Anna at her hotel, drove
on to the club, where he arrived a few minutes be-
fore seven. Selingman was there with Prince Ed-
ward, and half a dozen others. Selingman, who
happened not to be playing, came over at once and
sat by his side on the broad fender.
“You are late, my young freind,” he remarked.
“My new career,” Norgate replied, “makes de-
mands upon me. I can no longer spend the whole
afternoon playing bridge. I have been attending to
business.”
“It is very good,” Selingman declared amiably.
“That is the way I like to hear you talk. To
amuse oneself is good, but to work is better still.
Have you, by chance, any report to make?”
“I have had a long conversation with Mr. Heb-
blethwaite at Ranelagh this afternoon,” Norgate an-
nounced.
There was a sudden change in Selingman's ex-
pression, a glint of eagerness in his eyes.
“With Hebblethwaite! You have begun well.
He is the man above all others of whose views we
wish to feel absolutely certain. We know that he is
a strong man and a pacifist, but a pacifist to what
extent? That is what we wish to be clear about.
Now tell me, you spoke to him seriously?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I59
“Very seriously, indeed,” Norgate assented.
“The subject suggested itself naturally, and I con-
trived to get him to discuss the possibilities of a Euro-
pean war. I posed rather as a pessimist, but he sim-
ply jeered at me. He assured me that an earthquake
was more probable. I pressed him on the subject of
the entente. He spoke of it as a thing of romance
and sentiment, having no place in any possible devel-
opment of the international situation. I put hy-
pothetical cases of a European war before him, but
he only scoffed at me. On one point only was he
absolutely and entirely firm — under no circum-
stances whatever would the present Cabinet declare
war upon anybody. If the nation found itself face
to face with a crisis, the Government would simply
choose the most dignified and advantageous solu-
tion which embraced peace. In short, there is one
thing which you may count upon as absolutely cer-
tain. If England goes to war at any time within
the next four years, it will be under some other gov-
ernment.”
Selingman was vastly interested. He had drawn
very close to Norgate, his pudgy hands stretched
out upon his knees. He dropped his voice so that
it was audible only a few feet away.
“Let me put an extreme case,” he suggested.
“Supposing Russia and Germany were at war, and
France, as Russia's ally, were compelled to mobil-
ise. It would not be a war of Germany’s provoca-
tion, but Germany, in self-defence, would be bound
to attack France. She might also be compelled by
strategic considerations to invade Belgium. What


I60 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
do you think your friend Hebblethwaite would say
to that?”
“I am perfectly convinced,” Norgate replied,
“that Hebblethwaite would work for peace at any
price. The members of our present Government are
pacifists, every one of them, with the possible excep-
tion of the Secretary of the Admiralty.”
“Ah!” Mr. Selingman murmured. “Mr. Spen-
cer Wyatt! He is the gentleman who clamours so
hard and fights so well for his navy estimates. Last
time, though, not all his eloquence could prevail.
They were cut down almost a half, eh?”
“I believe that was so,” Norgate admitted.
“Mr. Spencer Wyatt, eh?” Selingman continued,
his eyes fixed upon the ceiling. “Well, well, one
cannot wonder at his attitude. It is not his rôle to
pose as an economist. He is responsible for the navy.
Naturally he wants a big navy. I wonder what his
influence in the Cabinet really is.”
“As to that,” Norgate observed, “I know no more
than the man in the street.”
“Naturally,” Mr. Selingman agreed. “I was
thinking to myself.”
There was a brief silence. Norgate glanced
around the room.
“I don’t see Mrs. Benedek here this afternoon,”
he remarked.
Selingman shook his head solemnly.
“The inquest on the death of that poor fellow
Baring is being held to-day,” he explained. “That
is why she is staying away. A sad thing that, Nor-
gate – a very sad happening.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I6I
“It was indeed.”
“And mysterious,” Selingman went on. “The
man apparently, an hour before, was in high spir-
its. The special work upon which he was engaged
at the Admiralty was almost finished. He had re-
ceived high praise for his share in it. Every one
who had seen him that day spoke of him as in abso-
lutely capital form. Suddenly he whips out a re-
volver from his desk and shoots himself, and all that
any one knows is that he was rung up by some one
on the telephone. There's a puzzle for you, Nor-
gate.”
Norgate made no reply. He felt Selingman’s eyes
upon him.
“A wonderful plot for the sensational novelist.
To the ordinary human being who knew Baring, there
remains a substratum almost of uneasiness. Where
did that voice come from that spoke along the wires,
and what was its message? Baring, by all accounts,
had no secrets in his life. What was the message —
a warning or a threat?”
“I did not read the account of the inquest,” Nor-
gate observed. “Wasn’t it possible to trace the
person who rang up, through the telephone office?”
“In an ordinary case, yes,” Selingman agreed.
“In this case, no! The person who rang up made
use of a call office. But come, it is a gloomy subject,
this. I wish I had known that you were likely to
see Mr. Hebblethwaite this afternoon. Bear this in
mind in case you should come across him again. It
would interest me very much to know whether any
breach of friendship has taken place at all between


I62 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
him and Mr. Spencer Wyatt. Do you know Spen-
cer Wyatt, by-the-by?”
“Only slightly,” Norgate replied. “Not well
enough to talk to him intimately, as I can do to
Hebblethwaite.”
“Well, remember that last little commission,”
Selingman concluded. “Are you staying on or leav-
ing now? If you are going, we will walk together.
A little exercise is good for me sometimes. My fig-
ure requires it. It is a very short distance, but it is
better than nothing at all.”
“I am quite ready,” Norgate assured him.
They left the room and descended the stairs to-
gether. At the entrance to the building, Selingman
paused for a moment. Then he seemed suddenly to
remember.
“It is habit,” he declared. “I stand here for a
taxi, but we have agreed to walk, is it not so?
Come!”
Norgate was looking across the street to the
other side of the pavement. A man was standing
there, engaged in conversation with a plainly-
dressed young woman. To Norgate there was some-
thing vaguely familiar about the latter, who turned
to glance at him as they strolled by on the other
side of the road. It was not until they reached the
corner of the street, however, that he remembered.
She was the young woman at the telephone call of
fice near Westbourne Grove!


CHAPTER XXII
Mr. Hebblethwaite was undoubtedly annoyed. He
found himself regretting more than ever the good
nature which had prompted him to give this visitor
an audience at a most unusual hour. He had been
forced into the uncomfortable position of listening
to statements the knowledge of which was a serious
embarrassment to him.
“Whatever made you come to me, Mr. Harrison?”
he exclaimed, when at last his caller's disclosures had
been made. “It isn't my department.”
“I came to you, sir,” the official replied, “because
I have the privilege of knowing you personally, and
because I was quite sure that in your hands the mat-
ter would be treated wisely.”
“You are sure of your facts, I suppose?”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“I do not know much about navy procedure,”
Mr. Hebblethwaite said thoughtfully, “but it
scarcely seems to me possible for what you tell me to
have been kept secret.”
“It is not only possible, sir,” the man assured
him, “but it has been done before in Lord Charles
Beresford's time. You will find, if you make enquir-
ies, that not only are the Press excluded to-day from
the shipbuilding yards in question, but the work-peo-
ple are living almost in barracks. There are double


164 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
sentries at every gate, and no one is permitted un-
der any circumstances to pass the outer line of of
fices.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite sat, for a few moments, deep
in thought.
“Well, Mr. Harrison,” he said at last, “there is
no doubt that you have done what you conceived to
be your duty, although I must tell you frankly that
I wish you had either kept what you know to your-
self or taken the information somewhere else. Since
you have brought it to me, let me ask you this ques-
tion. Are you taking any further steps in the mat-
ter at all?”
“Certainly not, sir,” was the quiet reply. “I
consider that I have done my duty and finished with
it, when I leave this room.”
“You are content, then,” Mr. Hebblethwaite ob-
served, “to leave this matter entirely in my
hands?”
“Entirely, sir,” the official assented. “I am per-
fectly content, from this moment, to forget all that
I know. Whatever your judgment prompts you to
do, will, I feel sure, be satisfactory.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite rose to his feet and held out
his hand.
“Well, Mr. Harrison,” he concluded, “you have
performed a disagreeable duty in a tactful manner.
Personally, I am not in the least grateful to you,
for, as I dare say you know, Mr. Spencer Wyatt is
a great friend of mine. As a member of the Govern-
ment, however, I think I can promise you that your
services shall not be forgotten. Good evening!”


I66 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
In less than five minutes Mr. Spencer Wyatt was
ushered in. He was wearing the uniform of an Ad-
miral of the Fleet — a tall, broad-shouldered man,
fair complexioned, and with the bearing of a sailor.
“Hullo, Hebblethwaite, what’s wrong?” he asked.
“Your message just caught me. I am dining with
the worshipful tanners — turtle soup and all the rest
of it. Don’t let me miss more than I can help.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite walked to the door to be sure
that it was closed and came back again.
“Look here, Wyatt,” he exclaimed, “what the
devil have you been up to?”
Wyatt whistled softly. A light broke across his
face.
“What do you mean?” he demanded.
“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Heb-
blethwaite continued. “Five weeks ago we had it
all out at a Cabinet meeting. You asked Parlia-
ment to lay down six battleships, four cruisers, thir-
ty-five submarines, and twelve torpedo boats. You
remember what a devil of a row there was. Even-
tually we compromised for half the number of bat-
tleships, two cruisers, and the full amount of small
craft.”
“Well? »
“I am given to understand,” Hebblethwaite said
slowly, “that you have absolutely disregarded the
vote — that the whole number of battleships are
practically commenced, and the whole number of
cruisers, and rather more than the number of smaller
craft.”
Wyatt threw his cocked hat upon the table.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 167
“Well, I am up against it a bit sooner than I ex-
pected,” he remarked. “Who’s been peaching?”
“Never mind,” Hebblethwaite replied. “I am not
telling you that. You’ve managed the whole thing
very cleverly, and you know very well, Wyatt, that
I am on your side. I was on your side in pressing
the whole of your proposals upon the Cabinet, al-
though honestly I think they were far larger than
necessary. However, we took a fair vote, and we
compromised. You had no more right to do what
you have done —”
“I admit it, Hebblethwaite,” Wyatt interrupted
quickly. “Of course, if this comes out, my resig-
nation’s ready for you, but I tell you frankly, as
man to man, I can’t go on with my job, and I won’t,
unless I get the ships voted that I need. We are be-
hind our standard now. I spent twenty-four hours
making up my mind whether I should resign or take
this risk. I came to the conclusion that I should
serve my country better by taking the risk. So there
you are. What are you going to do about it?”
“What the mischief can I do about it?” Heb-
blethwaite demanded irritably. “You are putting
me in an impossible position. Let me ask you this,
Wyatt. Is there anything at the back of your head
that the man in the street doesn’t know about?”
44. Yes ! »
“What is it, then?”
“I have reasons to believe,” Wyatt announced de-
liberately, “reasons which are quite sufficient for me,
although it was impossible for me to get up in Par-
liament and state them, that Germany is secretly


I68 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
making preparations for war either before the end of
this year or the beginning of next.”
Hebblethwaite threw himself into an easy-chair.
“Sit down, Wyatt,” he said. “Your dinner can
wait for a few minutes. I have had another man —
only a youngster, and he doesn’t know anything —
talking to me like that. We are fully acquainted
with everything that is going on behind the scenes.
All our negotiations with Germany are at this mo-
ment upon the most friendly footing. We haven’t
a single matter in dispute. Old Busby, as you know,
has been over in Berlin himself and has come back a
confirmed pacifist. If he had his way, our army
would practically cease to exist. He has been on
the spot. He ought to know, and the army's his
job.”
“Busby,” Wyatt declared, “is the silliest old ass
who ever escaped petticoats by the mere accident
of sex. I tell you he is just the sort of idiot the
Germans have been longing to get hold of and twist
round their fingers. Before twelve months or two
years have passed, you’ll curse the name of that
man, when you look at the mess he has made of the
army. Peace is all very well — universal peace.
The only way we can secure it is by being a good
deal stronger than we are at present.”
“That is your point of view,” Hebblethwaite re-
minded him. “I tell you frankly that I incline to-
wards Busby's.”
“Then you'll eat your words,” Wyatt asserted,
“before many months are out. I, too, have been in
Germany lately, although I was careful to go as a


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 169
tourist, and I have picked up a little information.
I tell you it isn’t for nothing that Germany has a
complete list of the whole of her rolling stock, the
actual numbers in each compartment registered and
reserved for the use of certain units of her troops.
I tell you that from one end of the country to the
other her state of military preparedness is amazing.
She has but to press a button, and a million men
have their rifles in their hands, their knapsacks on
their backs, and each regiment knows exactly at
which station and by what train to embark. She is
making Zeppelins night and day, training her men
till they drop with exhaustion. Krupp’s works are
guarded by double lines of sentries. There are se-
crets there which no one can penetrate. And all
the time she is building ships feverishly. Look here
— you know my cousin, Lady Emily Fakenham?”
“Of course | ** t -
“Only yesterday,” Wyatt continued impressively,
“she showed me a letter—I read it, mind — from
a cousin of Prince Hohenlowe. She met him at
Monte Carlo this year, and they had a sort of flir-
tation. In the postscript he says: “If you take
my advice, don’t go to Dinard this August. Don’t
be further away from home than you can help at all
this summer.” What do you think that meant?”
“It sounds queer,” Hebblethwaite admitted.
“Germany is bound to have a knock at us,” Spen-
cer Wyatt went on. “We’ve talked of it so long
that the words pass over our heads, as it were, but
she means it. And I tell you another thing. She
means to do it while there’s a Radical Government


17o THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
in power here, and before Russia finishes her reor-
ganisation scheme. I am not a soldier, Heb-
blethwaite, but the fellows we’ve got up at the top
— not the soldiers themselves but the chaps like old
Busby and Simons — are simply out and out rotters.
That’s plain speaking, isn’t it, but you and I are
the two men concerned in the government of this
country who do talk common sense to one another.
We've fine soldiers and fine organisers, but they’ve
been given the go-by simply because they know their
job and would insist upon doing it thoroughly, if
at all. Russia will have another four million men
ready to be called up by the end of 1915, and not
only that, but what is more important, is that she’ll
have the arms and the uniforms for them. Ger-
many isn’t going to wait for that. I’ve thought it
all out. We are going to get it in the neck before
seven or eight months have passed, and if you want
to know the truth, Hebblethwaite, that’s why I have
taken a risk and ordered these ships. The navy is
my care, and it’s my job to see that we keep it up
to the proper standard. Whose votes rob me of
my extra battleships? Why, just a handful of
Labour men and Irishmen and cocoa Liberals, who
haven’t an Imperial idea in their brains, who think
war belongs to the horrors of the past, and think
they’re doing their duty by what they call “keep-
ing down expenses.” Hang it, Hebblethwaite, it’s
worse than a man who won’t pay fire insurance for
his house in a dangerous neighbourhood, so as to save
a bit of money! What I’ve done I stick to. Split
on me, if you want to.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 171
“I don’t think I shall do that,” Hebblethwaite
said, “but honestly, Wyatt, I can’t follow you in
your war talk. We got over the Agadir trouble.
We’ve got over a much worse one — the Balkan crisis.
There isn’t a single contentious question before us
just now. The sky is almost clear.”
“Believe me,” Wyatt insisted earnestly, “that's
just the time to look for the thunderbolt. Can’t
you see that when Germany goes to war, it will be
a war of conquest, the war which she has planned
for all these years? She’ll choose her own time, and
she'll make a casus belli, right enough, when the time
comes. Of course, she'd have taken advantage of the
position last year, but she simply wasn’t ready. If
you ask me, I believe she thinks herself now able to
lick the whole of Europe. I am not at all sure,
thanks to Busby and our last fifteen years’ military
administration, that she wouldn’t have a good chance
of doing it. Any way, I am not going to have my
fleet cut down.”
“The country is prosperous,” Hebblethwaite ac-
knowledged. “We can afford the ships.”
“Then look here, old chap,” Wyatt begged, “I
am not pleading for my own sake, but the country’s.
Keep your mouth shut. See what the next month
or two brings. If there’s trouble — well, I don’t
suppose I shall be jumped on then. If there isn’t,
and you want a victim, here I am. I disobeyed or-
ders flagrantly. My resignation is in my desk at any
moment.”
Hebblethwaite glanced at the clock.
“I am very hungry,” he said, “and I have a long


172 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
way to go for dinner. We’ll let it go at that, Wyatt.
I’ll try and keep things quiet for you. If it comes
out, well, you know the risk you run.”
“I know the bigger risk we are all running,”
Wyatt declared, as he took a cigarette from an open
box on the table by his side and turned towards the
door. “I’ll manage the turtle soup now, with luck.
You're a good fellow, Hebblethwaite. I know it
goes against the grain with you, but, by Jove, you
may be thankful for this some time!”
The Right Honourable John William Hebble-
thwaite took the hat from his footman, stepped into
his car, and was driven rapidly away. He leaned
back among the cushions, more thoughtful than
usual. There was a yellow moon in the sky, pale
as yet. The streets were a tangled vortex of motor-
cars and taxies, all filled with men and women in even-
ing dress. It was the height of a wonderful season.
Everywhere was dominant the note of prosperity,
gaiety, even splendour. The houses in Park Lane,
flower-decked, displayed through their wide-flung
windows a constant panorama of brilliantly-lit rooms.
Every one was entertaining. In the Park on the
other side were the usual crowd of earnest, hard-
faced men and women, gathered in little groups
around the orator of the moment. Hebblethwaite
felt a queer premonition that evening. A man of
sanguine temperament, thoroughly contented with
himself and his position, he seemed almost for the
first time in his life, to have doubts, to look into
the future, to feel the rumblings of an earthquake,
the great dramatic cry of a nation in the throes of


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I73
suffering. Had they been wise, all these years, to
have legislated as though the old dangers by land
and sea had passed? — to have striven to make the
people fat and prosperous, to have turned a deaf ear
to every note of warning? Supposing the other
thing were true! Supposing Norgate and Spencer
Wyatt had found the truth! What would history
have to say then of this Government of which he was
so proud? Would it be possible that they had
brought the country to a great prosperity by de-
stroying the very bulwarks of its security?
The car drew up with a jerk, and Hebblethwaite
came back to earth. Nevertheless, he promised him-
self, as he hastened across the pavement, that on the
morrow he would pay a long-delayed visit to the War
Office.


CHAPTER XXIII
Anna was seated, a few days later, with her dear-
est friend, the Princess of Thurm, in a corner of the
royal enclosure at Ascot. For the first time since
their arrival they found themselves alone. From un-
derneath her parasol the Princess looked at her
friend curiously.
“Anna,” she said, “something has happened to
you.”
“Perhaps, but explain yourself,” Anna replied
composedly.
“It is so simple. There you sit in a Doucet
gown, perfection as ever, from the aigrette in your
hat to those delicately pointed shoes. You have been
positively hunted by all the nicest men — once or
twice, indeed, I felt myself neglected — and not a
smile have I seen upon your lips. You go about,
looking just a little beyond everything. What did
you see, child, over the tops of the trees in the pad-
dock, when Lord Wilton was trying so hard to en-
tertain you?”
“An affair of moods, I imagine,” Anna declared.
“Somehow I don’t feel quite in the humour for Ascot
to-day. To be quite frank,” she went on, turning
her head slowly, “I rather wonder that you do, Mil-
dred.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I75
The Princess raised her eyebrows.
“Why not? Everything, so far as I am con-
cerned, is couleur de rose. Madame Blanche de-
clared yesterday that my complexion would last for
twenty years. I found a dozen of the most ador-
able hats in Paris. The artist who designs my
frocks was positively inspired the last time I sat to
him. I am going to see Maurice in a few weeks,
and meanwhile I have several new flirtations which
interest me amazingly. As for you, my child, one
would imagine that you had lost your taste for all
frivolity. You are as cold as granite. Be careful,
dear. The men of to-day, in this country, at any
rate, are spoilt. Sometimes they are even uncourtier-
like enough to accept a woman’s refusal.”
“Well,” Anna observed, smiling faintly, “even a
lifetime at Court has not taught me to dissimu-
late. I am heavy-hearted, Mildred. You wondered
what I was looking at when I gazed over those green
trees under which all those happy people were walk-
ing. I was looking out across the North Sea. I
was looking through Belgium to Paris. I saw a vast
curtain roll up, and everything beyond it was a
blood-stained panorama.”
A shade rested for a moment on her companion’s
fair face. She shrugged her shoulders.
“We’ve known for a long time, dear, that it must
come.”
“But all the same, in these last moments it is ter-
rible,” Anna insisted. “Seriously, Mildred, I won-
der that I should feel it more than you. You are ab-
solutely English. Your father is English, your


176 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
mother is English. It is only your husband that is
Austrian. You have lived in Austria only for seven
years. Has that been sufficient to destroy all your
patriotism, all your love for your own country?”
The Princess made a little grimace.
“My dear Anna,” she said, “I am not so serious
a person as you are. I am profoundly, incompre-
hensibly selfish. The only human being in the whole
world for whom I have had a spark of real affection
is Maurice, and I adore him. What he has told me
to do, I have done. What makes him happy makes
me happy. For his sake, even, I have forgotten and
shall always forget that I was born an English-
woman. Circumstances, too,” she went on thought-
fully, “have made it so easy. England is such a
changed country. When I was a child, I could read
of the times when our kings really ruled, of our bat-
tles for dominion, of our fight for colonies, of our
building up a great empire, and I could feel just a
little thrill. I can’t now. We have gone ahead of
Napoleon. From a nation of shop-keepers we have
become a nation of general dealers — a fat, over-
confident, bourgeois people. Socialism has its hand
upon the throat of the classes. Park Lane, where
our aristocracy lived, is filled with the mansions of
South African Jews, whom one must meet here or
keep out of society altogether. Our country houses
have gone the same way. Our Court set is dowdy,
dull to a degree, and common in a different fashion.
You are right. I have lost my love for England,
partly because of my marriage, partly because of
those things which have come to England herself.”


178 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“It isn’t the man you were dining with in the Café
de Berlin when Prince Karl came in?”
“Yes, it is hel”
The Princess made a little grimace.
“But how unsuitable, my dear,” she exclaimed,
“if you are really in earnest! What is the use of
your thinking of an Englishman? He is quite nice,
I know. His mother and my mother were friends,
and we met once or twice. He was very kind to me
in Paris, too. But for a serious affair —”
“Well, it may not come to that,” Anna inter-
rupted, “but there it is. I suppose that it is partly
for his sake that I feel this depression.”
“I should have thought that he himself would have
been a little out of sympathy with his country just
now,” the Princess remarked. “They tell me that
the Foreign Office ate humble pie with the Kaiser for
that affair shockingly. They not only removed him
from the Embassy, but they are going to give him
nothing in Europe. I heard for a fact that the
Kaiser requested that he should not be attached to
any Court with which Germany had diplomatic re-
lations.”
Anna nodded. “I believe that it is true,” she ad-
mitted, “but I am not sure that he realises it him-
self. Even if he does, well, you know the type. He
is English to the backbone.”
“But there are Englishmen,” the Princess insisted
earnestly, “who are amenable to common sense.
There are Englishmen who are sorrowing over the
decline of their own country and who would not be
so greatly distressed if she were punished a little.”


18o THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
clared. “I have the horse marked on my card, but
I had forgotten for the moment.”
“And the same for me,” Anna begged. “But did
you really come only to bring us this valuable tip,
Prince?”
The Ambassador stooped down.
“There is a dispatch on its way to me,” he said
softly, “which I believe concerns you. It might be
necessary for you to take a short journey within the
next few days.”
“Not back to Berlin?” Anna exclaimed.
Their solitude had been invaded by now, and the
Princess was talking to two or three men who were
grouped about her chair. The Ambassador stooped
a little lower.
“To Rome,” he whispered.


CHAPTER XXIV
Back from the dusty roads, the heat and noise of
the long day, Anna was resting on the couch in her
sitting-room. A bowl of roses and a note which she
had read three or four times stood on a little table
by her side. One of the blossoms she had fastened
into the bosom of her loose gown. The blinds were
drawn, the sounds of the traffic outside were muf-
fled and distant. Her bath had been just the right
temperature, her maid's attention was skilful and
delicate as ever. She was conscious of the drowsy
sweet perfume of the flowers, the pleasant sense of
powdered cleanliness. Everything should have con-
duced to rest, but she lay there with her eyes wide-
open. There was so much to think about, so much
that was new finding its way into her stormy young
life.
“Madame!”
Anna turned her head. Her maid had entered
noiselessly from the inner room and was standing by
her side.
“Madame does not sleep? There is a person out-
side who waits for an interview. I have denied him,
as all others. He gave me this.”
Anna almost snatched the piece of paper from her
maid’s fingers. She glanced at the name, and the
disappointment which shone in her eyes was very ap-


182 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
parent. It was succeeded by an impulse of surprise.
“You can show him in,” she directed.
Selingman appeared a few moments later — Seling-
man, cool, rosy, and confident, on the way to his be-
loved bridge club. He took the hand which Anna,
without moving, held out to him, and raised it gal-
lantly to his lips.
“I thought it was understood, my crockery
friend,” she murmured, “that in London we did not
interchange visits.”
“Most true, gracious lady,” he admitted, “but
there are circumstances which can alter the most im-
movable decisions. At this moment we are con-
fronted with one. I come to discuss with you the
young Englishman, Francis Norgate.”
She turned her head a little. Her eyes were full of
enquiry.
“To discuss him with me?”
Selingman's eyes as though by accident fell upon
the roses and the note.
“Ah, well,” she murmured, “go on.”
“It is wonderful,” Selingman proceeded, “to be
able to tell the truth. I speak to you as one com-
rade to another. This young man was your com-
panion at the Café de Berlin. For the indiscretion
of behaving like a bull-headed but courageous young
Englishman, he is practically dismissed from the
Service. He comes back smarting with the injustice
of it. Chance brings him in my way. I proceed to
do my best to make use of this opportunity.”
“So like you, dear Herr Selingman : " Anna mur-
mured.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 183
Selingman beamed.
“Ever gracious, dear lady. Well, to continue,
then. Here I find a young Englishman of exactly
the order and position likely to be useful to us. I
approach him frankly. He has been humiliated by
the country he was willing to serve. I talk to him
of that country. “You are English, of course,' I
remind him, “but what manner of an England is it
to-day which claims you?” It is a very telling ar-
gument, this. Upon the classes of this country,
democracy has laid a throttling hand. There is a
spirit of discontent, they say, among the working-
classes, the discontent which breeds socialism.
There is a worse spirit of discontent among the up-
per classes here, and it is the discontent which breeds
so-called traitors.”
“I can imagine all the rest,” Anna interposed
coolly. “How far have you succeeded?”
“The young man,” Selingman told her, “has ac-
cepted my proposals. He has drawn three months’
salary in advance. He furnished me yesterday with
details of a private conversation with a well-known
Cabinet Minister.”
Anna turned her head. “So soon!” she mur-
mured.
“So soon,” Selingman repeated. “And now,
gracious lady, here comes my visit to you. We have
a recruit, invaluable if he is indeed a recruit at heart,
dangerous if he has the brains and wit to choose to
make himself so. I, on my way through life, judge
men and women, and I judge them — well, with few
exceptions, unerringly, but at the back of my brain


184 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
there lingers something of mistrust of this young
man. I have seen others in his position accept simi-
lar proposals. I have seen the struggles of shame,
the doubts, the assertion of some part of a man’s
lower nature reconciling him in the end to accepting
the pay of a foreign country. I have seen none of
these things in this young man — simply a cold and
deliberate acceptance of my proposals. He con-
forms to no type. He sets up before me a problem
which I myself have failed wholly to solve. I come
to you, dear lady, for your aid.”
“I am to spy upon the spy,” she remarked.
“It is an easy task,” Selingman declared. “This
young man is your slave. Whatever your daily busi-
ness may be here, some part of your time, I imagine,
will be spent in his company. Let me know what
manner of man he is. Is this innate corruptness
which brings him so easily to the bait, or is it the
stinging smart of injustice from which he may well
be suffering? Or, failing these, has he dared to set
his wits against mine, to play the double traitor?
If even a suspicion of this should come to you, there
must be an end of Mr. Francis Norgate.”
Anna toyed for a moment with the rose at her
bosom. Her eyes were looking out of the room.
Once again she was conscious of a curious slacken-
ing of purpose, a confusion of issues which had once
seemed to her so clear.
“Very well,” she promised. “I will send you a
report in the course of a few days.”
“I should not,” Selingman continued, rising,
“venture to trouble you, Baroness, as I know the


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 185
sphere of your activities is far removed from mine,
but chance has put you in the position of being able
to ascertain definitely the things which I desire to
know. For our common sake you will, I am sure,
seek to discover the truth.”
“So far as I can, certainly,” Anna replied, “but
I must admit that I, like you, find Mr. Norgate a
little incomprehensible.”
“There are men,” Selingman declared, “there
have been many of the strongest men in history, im-
penetrable to the world, who have yielded their se-
crets readily to a woman’s influence. The diploma-
tists in life who have failed have been those who have
underrated the powers possessed by your wonderful
sex.”
“Among whom,” Anna remarked, “no one will
ever number Herr Selingman.”
“Dear Baroness,” Selingman concluded, as the
maid whom Anna had summoned stood ready to show
him out, “it is because in my life I have been brought
into contact with so many charming examples of
your power.”
Once more silence and solitude. Anna moved rest-
lessly about on her couch. Her eyes were a little
hot. That future into which she looked seemed to
become more than ever a tangled web. At half-past
seven her maid reappeared.
“Madame will dress for dinner?”
Anna swung herself to her feet. She glanced at
the clock.
“I suppose so,” she assented.


CHAPTER XXV
“Confess,” Anna exclaimed, as she leaned back in
her chair, “that my idea was excellent! Your lit-
tle restaurant was in its way perfection, but the heat
— does one feel it anywhere, I wonder, as one does in
London?”
“Here, at any rate, we have air,” Norgate re-
marked appreciatively.
“We are far removed,” she went on, “from the
clamour of diners, that babel of voices, the smell of
cooking, the meretricious music. We look over the
house-tops. Soon, just behind that tall building
there, you will see the yellow moon.”
They were taking their coffee in Anna’s sitting-
room, seated in easy-chairs drawn up to the wide-
flung windows. The topmost boughs of some tall
elm trees rustled almost in their faces. Away before
them spread the phantasmagoria of a wilderness of
London roofs, softened and melting into the dim
blue obscurity of the falling twilight. Lights were
flashing out everywhere, and above them shone the
stars. Norgate drew a long breath of content.
“It is wonderful, this,” he murmured.
“We are at least alone,” Anna said, “and I can
talk to you. I want to talk to you. Should you be
very much flattered, I wonder, if I were to say that


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 189
I have been thinking of little else for the last three
or four days than how to approach you, how to say
something to you without any fear of being misun-
derstood, how to convince you of my own sincerity?”
“If I am not flattered,” he answered, looking at
her keenly, “I am at least content. Please go on.”
“You are one of those, I believe,” she continued
earnestly, “who realise that somewhere not far re-
moved from the splendour of these summer days, a
storm is gathering. I am one of those who know.
England has but a few more weeks of this self-confi-
dent, self-esteeming security. Very soon the shock
will come. Oh! you sit there, my friend, and you
are very monosyllabic, but that is because you do not
wholly trust me.”
He swung suddenly round upon her and there was
an unaccustomed fire in his eyes.
“May it not be for some other reason?” he asked
quickly.
There was a moment's silence. Her own face
seemed paler than ever in the strange half light, but
her eyes were wonderful. He told himself with pas-
sionate insistence that they were the eyes of a truth-
ful woman.
“Tell me,” she begged, “what reason?”
He leaned towards her.
“It is so hopeless,” he said. “I am just a broken
diplomat whose career is ended almost before it is
begun, and you — well, you have everything at your
feet. It is foolish of me, isn’t it, but I love you.”
He took her hand, and she did not withdraw it.
“If it is foolish,” she murmured, “then I am


I90 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
foolish, too. Perhaps you can guess now why I
came to London.”
He drew her into his arms. She made no resist-
ance. Her lips, even, were seeking his. It seemed
to him in those breathless moments that a greater
thing than even the destiny of nations was born into
the world. There was a new vigour in his pulses as
she gently pushed him back, a new splendour in life.
“Dear,” she exclaimed, “ of course we are both
very foolish, and yet, I do not know. I have been
wondering why this has not come to me long ago,
and now that it has come I am happy.”
“You care — you really care?” he insisted pas-
sionately.
“Of course I do,” she told him, quietly enough
and yet very convincingly. “If I did not care I
should not be here. If I did not care, I should not
be going to say the things to you which I am going
to say now. Sit back in your chair, please, hold
my hand still, smoke if you will, but listen.”
He obeyed. A deeper seriousness crept into her
tone, but her face was still soft and wonderful. The
new things were lingering there.
“I want to tell you first,” she said, “what I think
you already know. The moment for which Germany
has toiled so long, from which she has never faltered,
is very close at hand. With all her marvellous re-
sources and that amazing war equipment of which
you in this country know little, she will soon throw
down the gage to England. You are an English-
man, Francis. You are not going to forget it, are
you?”


I92 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“A traitor to the false England of to-day,” Nor-
gate replied, “a friend, I hope, of the real England.”
She sat quite still for some moments.
“Somehow or other,” she said, “I scarcely fan-
cied that you would give in so easily.”
“You seem disappointed,” he remarked, “yet,
after all, am I not on your side?”
“I suppose so,” she answered, without enthusiasm.
There was another and a more prolonged silence.
Norgate rose at last to his feet. He walked rest-
lessly to the end of the room and back again. A
dark mass of clouds had rolled up; the air seemed
almost sulphurous with the presage of a coming
storm. They looked out into the gathering dark-
Iless.
“I don’t understand,” he said. “You are Aus-
trian; that is the same as German. I tell you that
I have come over on your side. You seem disap-
pointed.”
“Perhaps I am,” she admitted, standing up, too,
and linking her arm through his. “You see, my
mother was English, and they say that I am entirely
like her. I was brought up here in the English coun-
try. Sometimes my life at Vienna and Berlin seems
almost like a dream to me, something unreal, as
though I were playing at being some other woman.
When I am back here, I feel as though I had come
home. Do you know really that nothing would make
me happier than to hear or think nothing about duty,
to just know that I had come back to England to
stay, and that you were English, and that we were
going to live just the sort of life I pictured to my-


I94 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I must,” she answered simply. “I have work
before me. Good-by, Francis' Somehow I knew
what was coming. I believe that I am glad, dear, but
I must think about it, and so must you.”
Norgate left the hotel and walked out amid the
first mutterings of the storm. He found a taxi and
drove to his rooms. For an hour he sat before his
window, watching the lightning play, fighting the
thoughts which beat upon his brain, fighting all the
time a losing battle. At midnight the storm had
ceased. He walked back through the rain-streaming
streets. The air was filled with sweet and pungent
perfumes. The heaviness had passed from the at-
mosphere. His own heart was lighter; he walked
swiftly. Outside her hotel he paused and looked up
at the window. There was a light still burning in
her room. He even fancied that he could see the
outline of her figure leaning back in the easy-chair
which he had wheeled up close to the casement. He
entered the hotel, stepped into the lift, ascended to
her floor, and made his way with tingling pulses and
beating heart along the corridor. He knocked softly
at her door. There was a little hesitation, then he
heard her voice on the other side.
“Who is that?”
“It is I– Francis,” he answered softly. “Let
me in.”
There was a little exclamation. She opened the
door, holding up her finger.
“Quietly,” she whispered. “What is it, Francis?
Why have you come back? What has happened to
you?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I95
He drew her into the room. She herself looked
weary, and there were lines under her eyes. It
seemed, even, as though she might have been weeping.
But it was a new Norgate who spoke. His words
rang out with a fierce vigour, his eyes seemed on fire.
“Anna,” he cried, “I can’t fence with you. I
can’t lie to you. I can’t deceive you. I’ve tried
these things, and I went away choking. I had to
come back. You shall know the truth, even though
you betray me. I am no man of Selingman's. I
have taken his paltry money — it went last night to
a hospital. I am for England — God knows it!—
the England of any government, England, however
misguided or mistaken. I want to do the work for
her that’s easiest and that comes to me. I am on
Selingman’s roll. What do you think he’ll get from
me? Nothing that isn’t false, no information that
won’t mislead him, no facts save those I shall distort
until they may seem so near the truth that he will
build and count upon them. Every minute of my
time will be spent to foil his schemes. They don’t
believe me in Whitehall, or Selingman would be at
Bow Street to-morrow morning. That’s why I am
going my own way. Tell him, if you will. There is
only one thing strong enough to bring me here, to
risk everything, and that’s my love for you.”
She was in his arms, sobbing and crying, and yet
laughing. She clutched at him, drew down his face
and covered his lips with kisses.
“Oh! I am so thankful,” she cried, “so thankful!
Francis, I ached — my heart ached to have you sit
there and talk as you did. Now I know that you


I96 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
are the man I thought you were. Francis, we will
work together.”
“You mean it?”
“I do. England was my mother’s country, Eng-
land shall be my husband's country. I will tell you
many things that should help. From now my work
shall be for you. If they find me out, well, I will
pay the price. You shall run your risk, Francis,
for your country, and I must take mine; but at least
we'll keep our honour and our conscience and our
love. Oh, this is a better parting, dear! This is a
better good night!”


CHAPTER XXVI
Mrs. Benedek was the first to notice the transfor-
mation which had certainly taken place in Norgate’s
appearance. She came and sat by his side upon the
cushioned fender.
“What a metamorphosis?” she exclaimed.
“Why, you look as though Providence had been
showering countless benefits upon you.”
There were several people lounging around, and
Mrs. Benedek’s remark certainly had point.
“You look like Monty, when he's had a winning
week,” one of them observed.
“It is something more than gross lucre,” a young
man declared, who had just strolled up. “I believe
that it is a good fat appointment. Rome, perhaps,
where every one of you fellows wants to get to,
nowadays.”
“Or perhaps,” the Prince intervened, with a little
bow, “Mrs. Benedek has promised to dine with you?
She is generally responsible for the gloom or happi-
ness of us poor males in this room.”
Norgate smiled.
“None of these wonderful things have happened
— and yet, something perhaps more wonderful,” he
announced. “I am engaged to be married.”
There was a mingled chorus of exclamations and
**


198 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
congratulations. Selingman, who had been standing
on the outskirts of the group, drew a little nearer.
His face wore a somewhat puzzled expression.
“And the lady?” he enquired. “May we not
know the lady’s name? That is surely important?”
“It is the Baroness von Haase,” Norgate replied.
“You probably know her by name and repute, at
least, Mr. Selingman. She is an Austrian, but she
is often at Berlin.”
Selingman stretched out his great hand. For
some reason or other, the announcement seemed to
have given him real pleasure.
“Know her? My dear young friend, while I may
not claim the privilege of intimate friendship with
her, the Baroness is a young lady of the greatest
distinction and repute in Berlin. I congratulate
you. I congratulate you most heartily. The anger
of our young princeling is no longer to be wondered
at. I cannot tell you how thoroughly interesting
this news is to me.”
“You are very good indeed, I am sure, all of you,”
Norgate declared, answering the general murmur of
kindly words. “The Baroness doesn’t play bridge,
but I’d like to bring her in one afternoon, if I
may.”
“I have had the honour of meeting the Baroness
von Haase several times,” Prince Lenemaur said.
“It will give me the utmost pleasure to renew my ac-
quaintance with her. These alliances are most pleas-
ing. Since I have taken up my residence in this
country, I regard them with the utmost favour
They do much to cement the good feeling between


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR I99
Germany, Austria, and England, which is so de-
sirable.”
“English people,” Mrs. Benedek remarked, “will
at least have the opportunity of judging Austrian
women from the proper standpoint. Anna is one of
the most accomplished and beautiful women in either
Vienna or Berlin. I hope so much that she will not
have forgotten me altogether.”
They all drifted presently back to the bridge
tables. Norgate, however, excused himself. He had
some letters to write, he declared, and presently he
withdrew to the little drawing-room. In about a
quarter of an hour, as he had expected, the door
opened, and Selingman entered. He crossed the
room at once to where Norgate was writing and laid
his hand upon his shoulder.
“Young man,” he said, “I wish to talk with you.
Bring your chair around. Sit there so that the light
falls upon your face. So Now let me see.
Where does that door lead to?” -
“Into the secretary’s room, but it is locked,”
Norgate told him.
“So And the outer one I myself have carefully
closed. We talk here, then, in private. This is
great news which you have brought this afternoon.”
“It is naturally of some interest to me,” Norgate
assented, “but I scarcely see —”
“It is of immense interest, also, to me,” Seling-
man interrupted. “It may be that you do not know
this at present. It may be that I anticipate, but if
so, no matter. Between you and your fiancée there
will naturally be no secrets. You are perhaps al-


2OO THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
ready aware that she holds a high position amongst
those who are working for the power and develop-
ment and expansion of our great empire?”
“I have gathered something of the sort,” Norgate
admitted. “I know, of course, that she is a per-
sonal favourite of the Emperor's, and persona grata
at the Court of Berlin.”
“You have no scruple, then, about marrying a
woman who belongs to a certain clique, a certain
school of diplomacy which you might, from a super-
ficial point of view, consider inimical to your coun-
try’s interests?”
“I have no scruple at all in marrying the Baroness
von Haase,” Norgate replied firmly. “As for the
rest, you and I have discussed fully the matter of
the political relations between our countries. I have
shown you practically have I not, what my own
views are?”
“That is true, my young friend,” Selingman con-
fessed. “We have spoken together, man to man,
heart to heart. I have tried to show you that even
though we should stand with sword outstretched
across the seas, yet in the hearts of our people there
dwells a real affection, real good-will towards your
country. I think that I have convinced you. I
have come, indeed, to have a certain amount of con-
fidence in you. That I have already proved. But
your news to-day alters much. There are grades of
that society which you have joined, rings within
rings, as you may well imagine. I see the prospect
before me now of making much greater and more
valuable use of you. It was your brain, and a cer-


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 2OI
tain impatience with the political conduct of your
country, which brought you over to our side. Why
should not that become an alliance — an absolute
alliance? Your interests are drawn into ours. You
have now a real and great reason for throwing in
your lot with us. Let me look at you. Let me
think whether I may not venture upon a great gam-
ble.”
Norgate did not flinch. He appeared simply a
little puzzled. Selingman's blue, steel-like eyes
seemed striving to reach the back of his brain.
“All the things that we accomplish in my coun-
try,” the latter continued, “we do by method and
order. We do them scientifically. We reach out
into the future. So far as we can, we foresee every-
thing. We leave little to chance. Yet there are
times when one cannot deal in certainties. Young
man, the news which you have told us this afternoon
has brought us to this pitch. I am inclined to gam-
ble — to gamble upon you.”
“Is there any question of consulting me in this?”
Norgate asked coolly.
Selingman brushed the interruption on one side.
“I now make clear to you what I mean,” he con-
tinued. “You have joined my little army of help-
ers, those whom I have been able to convince of the
justice and reasonableness of Germany’s ultimate
aim. Now I want more from you. I want to make
of you something different. More than anything in
the world, for the furtherance of my schemes here,
I need a young Englishman of your position and with
your connections, to whom I can give my whole confi-


202 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
dence, who will act for me with implicit obedience,
without hesitation. Will you accept that post,
Francis Norgate?”
“If you think I am capable of it,” Norgate re-
plied promptly.
“You are capable of it,” Selingman asserted.
“There is only one grim possibility to be risked.
Are you entirely trustworthy? Would you flinch at
the danger moment? Before this afternoon I hesi-
tated. It is your alliance with the Baroness which
gives me that last drop of confidence which was
necessary.”
“I am ready to do your work,” Norgate said.
“I can say no more. My own country has no use
for me. My own country seems to have no use for
any one at all just now who thinks a little beyond
the day’s eating and drinking and growing fat.”
Selingman nodded his head. The note of bitter-
ness in the other's tone was to his liking.
“Of rewards, of benefits, I shall not now speak,”
he proceeded. “You have something in you of the
spirit of men who aim at the greater things. There
is, indeed, in your attitude towards life something
of the idealism, the ever-stretching heavenward cul-
ture of my own people. I recognise that spirit in
you, and I will not give a lower tone to our talk this
afternoon by speaking of money. Yet what you
wish for you may have. When the time comes, what
further reward you may desire, whether it be rank
or high position, you may have, but for the present
let it be sufficient that you are my man.”
He held out his hand, and all the time his eyes


204 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
complications which have arisen and from which war
might have followed, England has been involved. We
want to choose a time and a cause which will give
England every opportunity of standing peacefully
on one side. That time is close at hand. From all
that I can hear, your country is, at the present mo-
ment, in danger of civil war. Your Ministers who
are most in favour are Radical pacifists. Your army
has never been so small or your shipbuilding pro-
gramme more curtailed. Besides, there is no warlike
spirit in your nation; you sleep peacefully. I think
that our time has come. You will not need to strain
your ears, my friend. Before many weeks have
passed, the tocsin will be sounding. Does that move
you? Let me look at you.”
Norgate’s face showed little emotion. Selingman
nodded ponderously.
“Surely,” Norgate asked, “Germany will wait for
some reasonable pretext?”
“She will find one through Austria,” Selingman
replied. “That is simple. Mind, though this may
seem to you a war wholly of aggression, and though
I do not hesitate to say that we have been prepared
for years for a war of aggression, there are other
factors which will come to light. Only a few months
ago, an entire Russian scheme for the invasion of
Germany next spring was discovered by one of our
Secret Service agents.”
Norgate nodded.
“One question more,” he said. “Supposing Ger-
many takes the plunge, and then England, contrary
to anticipation, desides to support France?”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 205
Selingman’s face darkened. A sudden purpose-
less anger shook his voice.
“We choose a time,” he declared, “when Eng-
land's hands are tied. She is in no position to go to
war with any one. I have many reports reaching
me every day. I have come to the firm conclusion
that we have reached the hour. England will not
fight.”
“And what will happen to her eventually?” Nor-
gate asked.
Selingman smiled slowly.
“When France is crushed,” he explained, “and
her northern ports garrisoned by us, England must
be taught just a little lesson, the lesson of which you
and I have spoken, the lesson which will be for her
good. That is what we have planned. That is how
things will happen. Hush! There is some one com-
ing. It is finished, this. Come to me to-morrow
morning. There is work for you.”


CHAPTER XXVII
Later on that evening, Norgate walked up and
down the platform at Charing-Cross with Anna.
Her arm rested upon his; her expression was ani-
mated and she talked almost eagerly. Norgate car-
ried himself like a man who has found a new thing
in life. He was feeling none of the depression of the
last few days.
“Dear,” Anna begged, “you won’t forget, will
you, all the time that I am away, that you must never
for a single moment relax your caution? Selingman
speaks of trust. Well, he gambles, it is true, yet he
protects himself whenever he can. You will not
move from early morning until you go to bed at
night, without being watched. To prove what I
say — you see the man who is reading an evening
paper under the gas-lamp there? Yes? He is one
of Selingman’s men. He is watching us now. More
than once he has been at our side. Scraps of con-
versation, or anything he can gather, will go back
to Selingman, and Selingman day by day pieces
everything together. Don’t let there be a single
thing which he can lay hold of.”
“I’ll lead him a dance,” Norgate promised, nod-
ding a little grimly. “As for that, Anna dear, you
needn’t be afraid. If ever I had any wits, they'll be
awake during the next few weeks.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 207
“When I come back from Rome,” Anna went on,
“I shall have more to tell you. I believe that I
shall be able to tell you even the date of the great
happening. I wonder what other commissions he
will give you. The one to-night is simple. Be care-
ful, dear. Think — think hard before you make up
your mind. Remember that there is some duplicity
which might become suddenly obvious. An official
statement might upset everything. These English
papers are so garrulous. You might find yourself
hard-pressed for an explanation.”
“I’ll be careful, dear,” Norgate assured her, as
they stood at last before the door of her compart-
ment. “And of ourselves?”
She lifted her veil.
“We have so little time,” she murmured.
“But have you thought over what I suggested?”
he begged.
She laughed at him softly.
“It sounds quite attractive,” she whispered.
“Shall we talk of it when I come back from Italy?
Good-by, dear! Of course, I do not really want to
kiss you, but our friend under the gas-lamp is look-
ing — and you know our engagement! It is so sat-
isfactory to dear Mr. Selingman. It is the one genu-
ine thing about us, isn’t it? So good-by!”
The long train drew out from the platform a few
minutes later. Norgate lingered until it was out of
sight. Then he took a taxi and drove to the House
of Commons. He sent in a card addressed to David
Bullen, Esq., and waited for some time. At last a
young man came down the corridor towards him.


208 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I am Mr. Bullen’s private secretary,” he an-
nounced. “Mr. Bullen cannot leave the House for
some time. Would you care to go into the Strang-
ers’ Gallery, or will you wait in his room?”
“I should like to listen to the debate, if it is pos-
sible,” Norgate decided.
A place was found for him with some difficulty.
The House was crowded. The debate concerned one
of the proposed amendments to the Home Rule Bill,
not in itself important, yet interesting to Norgate
on account of the bitter feeling which seemed to
underlie the speeches of the extreme partisans on
either side. The debate led nowhere. There was
no division, no master mind intervening, yet it left
a certain impression on Norgate’s mind. At a little
before ten, the young man who had found him his
place touched his shoulder.
“Mr. Bullen will see you now, sir,” he said.
Norgate followed his conductor through a maze
of passages into a barely-furnished but lofty apart-
ment. The personage whom he had come to see was
standing at the further end, talking somewhat heat-
edly to one or two of his supporters. At Norgate’s
entrance, however, he dismissed them and motioned
his visitor to a chair. He was a tall, powerful-look-
ing man, with the eyes and forehead of a thinker.
There was a certain laconic quality in his speech
which belied his nationality.
“You come to me, I understand, Mr. Norgate,”
he began, “on behalf of some friends in America, not
directly, but representing a gentleman who in his
letter did not disclose himself. It sounds rather
i


2IO THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“None that I can divulge,” Norgate replied.
“Yet they form the motive of the offer which I am
about to make to you. I am instructed to say that
the sum of a million pounds will be paid into your
funds on certain guarantees to be given by you. It
is my business here to place these guarantees before
you and to report as to your attitude concerning
them.”
“One million pounds!” Mr. Bullen murmured,
breathlessly.
“There are the conditions,” Norgate reminded
him.
“Well? »
“In the first place,” Norgate continued, “the sub-
scribers to this fund, which is by no means exhausted
by the sum I mention, demand that you accept no
compromise, that at all costs you insist upon the
whole bill, and that if it is attempted at the last
moment to deprive the Irish people by trickery of
the full extent of their liberty, you do not hesitate
to encourage your Nationalist party to fight for
their freedom.”
Mr. Bullen’s lips were a little parted, but his face
was immovable.
“Go on.”
“In the event of your doing so,” Norgate con-
tinued, “more money, and arms themselves if you
require them, will be available, but the motto of
those who have the cause of Ireland entirely at heart
is, “No compromise!” They recognise the fact that
you are in a difficult position. They fear that you
have allowed yourself to be influenced, to be weak-


2I2 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I cannot answer questions,” he said, “until you
have expressed your views.”
“You can have them, then,” Mr. Bullen declared.
“You can go back to Mr. X and tell him this.
Ireland needs help sorely to-day from all her sons,
whether at home or in foreign countries. More than
anything she needs money. The million pounds of
which you speak would be a splendid contribution to
what I may term our war chest. But as to my
views, here they are. It is my intention, and the
intention of my Party, to fight to the last gasp for
the literal carrying out of the bill which is to grant
us our liberty. We will not have it whittled away or
weakened one iota. Our lives, and the lives of
greater men, have been spent to win this measure,
and now we stand at the gates of success. We should
be traitors if we consented to part with a single
one of the benefits it brings us. Therefore, you can
tell Mr. X that should this Government attempt
any such trickery as he not unreasonably suspects,
then his conditions will be met. My men shall fight,
and their cause will be just.”
“So far,” Norgate admitted, “this is very satis-
factory.”
“To pass on,” Mr. Bullen continued, “let me at
once confess that I find something sinister, Mr. Nor-
gate, in this mysterious visit of yours, in the hidden
identity of Mr. X I suspect some underlying
motive which prompts the offering of this million
pounds. I may be wrong, but it seems to me that
I can see beneath it all the hand of a foreign enemy
of England.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 213
“Supposing you were right, Mr. Bullen,” Norgate
said, “what is England but a foreign enemy of Ire-
land?”
A light flashed for a moment in Mr. Bullen's eyes.
His lip curled inwards.
“Young man,” he demanded, “are you an Eng-
lishman?”
“I am,” Norgate admitted.
“You speak poorly, then. To proceed to the
matter in point, my word is pledged to fight. I will
plunge the country I love into civil war to gain her
rights, as greater patriots than I have done before.
But the thing which I will not do is to be made the
cat's-paw, or to suffer Ireland to be made the cat's-
paw, of Germany. If war should come before the
settlement of my business, this is the position I
should take. I would cross to Dublin, and I would
tell every Nationalist Volunteer to shoulder his rifle
and to fight for the British Empire, and " would go
on to Belfast — I, David Bullen — to Belfast, where
I think that I am the most hated man alive, and I
would stand side by side with the leader of those men
of Ulster, and I would beg them to fight side by side
with my Nationalists. And when the war was over,
if my rights were not granted, if Ireland were not set
free, then I would bid my men take breathing time
and use all their skill, all the experience they had
gained, and turn and fight for their own freedom
against the men with whom they had struggled in the
same ranks. Is that million pounds to be mine, Mr.
Norgate?”
Norgate shook his head.


2I4 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Nor any part of it, sir,” he answered.
“I presume,” Mr. Bullen remarked, as he rose,
“that I shall never have the pleasure of meeting
Mr. X 2 ”
“I most sincerely hope,” Norgate declared fer-
vently, “that you never will. Good-day, Mr.
Bullen I ?”
He held out his hand. Mr. Bullen hesitated.
“Sir,” he said, “I am glad to shake hands with
an Irishman. I am willing to shake hands with an
honest Englishman. Just where you come in, I don’t
know, so good evening. You will find my secretary
outside. He will show you how to get away.”
For a moment Norgate faltered. A hot rejoinder
trembled upon his lips. Then he remembered him-
self and turned on his heel. It was his first lesson in
discipline. He left the room without protest.


218 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Getting cautious as the years roll on, aren’t
you?” Norgate sighed. “I hoped I was going to
get something interesting out of you to cable to
Berlin.”
“You try cabling to Berlin, young fellow,” Heb-
blethwaite replied grimly, “and I’ll have you up at
Bow Street pretty soon! There's no doubt about it,
though, old White has got the shivers for some rea-
son or other. To any sane person things were never
calmer and more peaceful than at the present mo-
ment, and White isn’t a believer in the German peril,
either. He is half inclined to agree with old Busby.
He got us out of that Balkan trouble in great style,
and all I can say is that if any nation in Europe
wanted war then, she could have had it for the ask-
ing.”
“Well, exactly what is the matter with White at
the present moment?” Norgate demanded.
“Got the shakes,” Hebblethwaite confided. “Of
course, we don’t employ well-born young Germans
who are undergoing a period of rustication, as Eng-
lish spies, but we do get to know a bit what goes on
there, and the reports that are coming in are just a
little curious. Rolling stock is being called into the
termini of all the railways. Staff officers in mufti
have been round all the frontiers. There’s an enor-
mous amount of drilling going on, and the ordnance
factories are working at full pressure, day and
night.”
“The manoeuvres are due very soon,” Norgate re-
minded his friend.
“So I told White,” Hebblethwaite continued, “but


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 219
manoeuvres, as he remarked, don’t lead to quite so
much feverish activity as there is about Germany
just now. Personally, I haven’t a single second’s
anxiety. I only regret the effect that this sort of
feeling has upon the others. Thank heavens we are
a Government of sane, peace-believing people!”
“A Government of fat-headed asses who go about
with your ears stuffed full of wool,” Norgate de-
clared, with a sudden bitterness. “What you’ve
been telling me is the truth. Germany’s getting
ready for war, and you’ll have it in the neck pretty
soon.”
Hebblethwaite set down his empty glass. He had
recovered his composure.
“Well, I am glad I met you, any way, young fel-
low,” he remarked. “You’re always such an opti-
mist. You cheer one up. Sorry I can’t ask you to
lunch,” he went on, consulting his book, “but I find
I am motoring down for a round of golf this after-
noon.”
“Yes, you would play golf ' " Norgate grunted,
as they strolled towards the door. “You’re the
modern Nero, playing golf while the earthquake
yawns under London.”
“Play you some day, if you like,” Hebblethwaite
suggested, as he called for a taxi. “They took my
handicap down two last week at Walton Heath —
not before it was time, either. By-the-by, when can
I meet the young lady? My people may be out of
town next week, but I’ll give you both a lunch or a
dinner, if you’ll say the word. Thursday night,
ch?”


220 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“At present,” Norgate replied, “the Baroness is
in Italy, arranging for the mobilisation of the
Italian armies, but if she’s back for Thursday, we
shall be delighted. She’ll be quite interested to meet
you. A keen, bright, alert politician of your type
will simply fascinate her.”
“We'll make it Thursday night, then, at the Carl-
ton,” Hebblethwaite called out from his taxi.
“Take care of Boko. So long!”
At the top of St. James's Street, Norgate re-
ceived the bow of a very elegantly-dressed young
woman who was accompanied by a well-known sol-
dier. A few steps further on he came face to face
with Selingman.
“A small city, London,” the latter declared. “I
am on my way to the Berkeley to lunch. Will you
come with me? I am alone to-day, and I hate to
eat alone. Miss Morgen has deserted me shame-
fully.”
“I met her a moment or two ago,” Norgate re-
marked. “She was with Colonel Bowden.”
Selingman nodded. “Rosa has been taking a
great interest in flying lately. Colonel Bowden is
head of the Flying Section. Well, well, one must
expect to be deserted sometimes, we older men.”
“Especially in so great a cause,” Norgate ob-
served drily.
Selingman smiled enigmatically.
“And you, my young friend,” he enquired, “what
have you been doing this morning?”
“I have just left Hebblethwaite,” Norgate an-
swered.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 22I
“There was a Cabinet Council this morning,
wasn’t there?”
Norgate nodded.
“An unimportant one, I should imagine. Heb-
blethwaite seemed thoroughly satisfied with himself
and with life generally. He has gone down to Wal-
ton Heath to play golf.”
Selingman led the way into the restaurant.
“Very good exercise for an English Cabinet Min-
ister,” he remarked, “capital for the muscles!”


CHAPTER XXIX
“I had no objection,” Norgate remarked, a few
hours later, “to lunching with you at the Berkeley
— very good lunch it was, too — but to dine with
you in Soho certainly seems to require some explana-
tion. Why do we do it? Is it my punishment for
a day's inactivity, because if so, I beg to protest.
I did my best with Hebblethwaite this morning, and
it was only because there was nothing for him to
tell me that I heard nothing.”
Selingman spread himself out at the little table
and talked in voluble German to the portly head-
waiter in greasy clothes. Then he turned to his
guest. -
“My young friend,” he enjoined, “you should
cultivate a spirit of optimism. I grant you that
the place is small and close, that the odour of other
people's dinners is repellent, that this cloth, per-
haps, is not so clean as it once was, or the linen so
fine as we are accustomed to. But what would you
have? All sides of life come into the great scheme.
It is here that we shall meet a person whom I need to
meet, a person whom I do not choose to have visit me
at my home, whom I do not choose to be seen with
in any public place of great repute.”
“I should say we were safe here from knocking


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 223
against any of our friends !” Norgate observed.
“Anyhow, the beer's all right.”
They were served with light-coloured beer in tall,
chased tumblers. Selingman eyed his with approval.
“A nation,” he declared, “which brews beer like
this, deserves well of the world. You did wisely,
Norgate, to become ever so slightly associated with
us. Now examine carefully these hors d'acuvres. I
have talked with Karl, the head-waiter. Instead of
eighteen pence, we shall pay three shillings each for
our dinner. The whole resources of the establish-
ment are at our disposal. Fresh tins of delicatessen,
you perceive. Do not be afraid that you will go
away hungry.”
“I am more afraid,” Norgate grumbled, “that I
shall go away sick. However!”
“You may be interested to hear,” announced
Selingman, glancing up, “that our visit is not in
vain. You perceive the two men entering? The
nearest one is a Bulgarian. He is a creature of
mine. The other is brought here by him to meet us.
It is good.”
The newcomers made their way along the room.
One, the Bulgarian, was short and dark. He wore a
well-brushed blue serge suit with a red tie, and a
small bowler hat. He was smoking a long, brown
cigarette and he carried a bundle of newspapers.
Behind him came a youth with a pale, sensitive face
and dark eyes, ill-dressed, with the grip of poverty
upon him, from his patched shoes to his frayed collar
and well-worn cap. Nevertheless, he carried himself
as though indifferent to these things. His compan-


224 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
ion stopped short as he neared the table at which
the two men were sitting, and took off his hat, greet-
ing Selingman with respect.
“My friend Stralhaus!” Selingman exclaimed.
“It goes well, I trust? You are a stranger. Let
me introduce to you my secretary, Mr. Francis Nor-
gate.”
Stralhaus bowed and turned to his young com-
panion.
“This,” he said, “is the young man with whom
you desired to speak. We will sit down if we may.
Sigismund, this is the great Herr Selingman, phi-
lanthropist and millionaire, with his secretary, Mr.
Norgate. We take dinner with him to-night.”
The youth shook hands without enthusiasm. His
manner towards Selingman was cold. At Norgate
he glanced once or twice with something approaching
curiosity. Stralhaus proceeded to make conversa-
tion.
“Our young friend,” he explained, addressing
Norgate, “is an exile in London. He belongs to an
unfortunate country. He is a native of Bosnia.”
The boy’s lip curled.
“It is possible,” he remarked, “that Mr. Norgate
has never even heard of my country. He is very
little likely to know its history.”
“On the contrary,” Norgate replied, “I know it
very well. You have had the misfortune, during the
last few years, to come under Austrian rule.”
“Since you put it like that,” the boy declared,
“we are friends. I am one of those who cry out to
Heaven in horror at the injustice which has been


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 225
done. We love liberty, we Bosnians. We love our
own people and our own institutions, and we hate
Austria. May you never know, sir, what it is to be
ruled by an alien race!”
“You have at least the sympathy of many nations
who are powerless to interfere,” Selingman said
quietly. “I read your pamphlet, Mr. Henriote, with
very great interest. Before we leave to-night, I
shall make a proposal to you.”
The boy seemed puzzled for a moment, but Stral-
haus intervened with some commonplace remark.
“After dinner,” he suggested, “we will talk.”
Certainly during the progress of the meal Henriote
said little. He ate, although obviously half fam-
ished, with restraint, but although Norgate did his
best to engage him in conversation, he seemed taci-
turn, almost sullen. Towards the end of dinner,
when every one was smoking and coffee had been
served, Selingman glanced at his watch.
“Now,” he said, “I will tell you, my young Bos-
nian patriot, why I sent for you. Would you
like to go back to your country, in the first
place?”
“It is impossible!” Henriote declared bitterly.
“I am exile. I am forbidden to return under pain
of death.”
Selingman opened his pocket-book, and, searching
among his papers, produced a thin blue one which
he opened and passed across the table.
“Read that,” he ordered shortly.
The young man obeyed. A sudden exclamation
broke from his lips. A pink flush, which neither the


226 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
wine nor the food had produced, burned in his
cheeks. He sat hunched up, leaning forward, his
eyes devouring the paper. When he had finished, he
still gripped it.
“It is my pardon | * he cried. “I may go back
home — back to Bosnia!”
“It is your free pardon,” Selingman replied, “but
it is granted to you upon conditions. Those condi-
tions, I may say, are entirely for your country’s
sake and are framed by those who feel exactly as
you feel — that Austrian rule for Bosnia is an in-
justice.”
“Go on,” the young man muttered. “What am
I to do?”
“You are a member,” Selingman went on, “of the
extreme revolutionary party, a party pledged to
stop at nothing, to drive your country’s enemies
across her borders. Very well, listen to me. The
pardon which you have there is granted to you with-
out any promise having been asked for or given in
return. It is I alone who dictate terms to you.
Your country’s position, her wrongs, and the abuses
of the present form of government, can only be
brought before the notice of Europe in one way.
You are pledged to do that. All that I require of
you is that you keep your pledge.”
The young man half rose to his feet with excite-
ment.
“Keep it! Who is more anxious to keep it than
I? If Europe wants to know how we feel, she shall
know! We will proclaim the wrongs of our country
so that England and Russia, France and Italy, shall


228 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
towards the light, and for that I thank you. Good
night, gentlemen!”
He left them and walked out of the restaurant like
a man in a dream. Selingman helped himself to a
liqueur and passed the bottle to Norgate.
“It is in strange places that one may start some-
times the driving wheels of Fate,” he remarked.


CHAPTER XXX
Anna almost threw herself from the railway car-
riage into Norgate’s arms. She kissed him on both
cheeks, held him for a moment away from her, then
passed her arm affectionately through his.
“You dear!” she exclaimed. “Oh, how weary
I am of it! Nearly a week in the train! And how
well you are looking! And I am not going to stay
a single second bothering about luggage. Marie,
give the porter my dressing-case. Here are the keys.
You can see to everything.”
Norgate, carried almost off his feet by the delight
of her welcome, led her away towards a taxicab.
“I am starving,” she told him. “I would have
nothing at Dover except a cup of tea. I knew that
you would meet me, and I thought that we would
have our first meal in England together. You shall
take me somewhere where we can have supper and tell
me all the news. I don’t look too hideous, do I, in
my travelling clothes?”
“You look adorable,” he assured her, “and I be-
lieve you know it.”
“I have done my best,” she confessed demurely.
“Marie took so much trouble with my hair. We
had the most delightful coupé all to ourselves.
Fancy, we are back again in London' I have been
to Italy, I have spoken to kings and prime minis-
ters, and I am back again with you. And queerly


230 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
enough, not until to-morrow shall I see the one per-
son who really rules Italy.”
“Who is that?” he asked.
“I am not sure that I shall tell you everything,”
she decided. “You have not opened your mouth to
me yet. I shall wait until supper-time. Have you
changed your mind since I went away?”
“I shall never change it,” he assured her eagerly.
“We are in a taxicab and I know it’s most unusual
and improper, but —”
“If you hadn’t kissed me,” she declared a mo-
ment later as she leaned forward to look in the
glass, “I should not have eaten a mouthful of sup-
per.”
They drove to the Milan Grill. It was a little
early for the theatre people, and they were almost
alone in the place. Anna drew a great sigh of con-
tent as she settled down in her chair.
“I think I must have been lonely for a long time,”
she whispered, “for it is so delightful to get back
and be with you. Tell me what you have been
doing?”
“I have been promoted,” Norgate announced.
“My prospective alliance with you has completed
Selingman’s confidence in me. I have been entrusted
with several commissions.”
He told her of his adventures. She listened
breathlessly to the account of his dinner in Soho.
“It is queer how all this is working out,” she ob-
served. “I knew before that the trouble was to
come through Austria. The Emperor was very
anxious indeed that it should not. He wanted to


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 23I
have his country brought reluctantly into the strug-
gle. Even at this moment I believe that if he thought
there was the slightest chance of England becoming
embroiled, he would travel to Berlin himself to plead
with the Kaiser. I really don’t know why, but the
one thing in Austria which would be thoroughly un-
popular would be a war with England.”
“Tell me about your mission?” he asked.
“To a certain point,” she confessed, with a little
grimace, “it was unsuccessful. I have brought a
reply to the personal letter I took over to the King.
I have talked with Guillamo, the Secretary of State
for Foreign Affairs, with whom, of course, every-
thing is supposed to rest. What I have brought
with me, however, and what I heard from Guillamo,
are nothing but a repetition of the assurances given
to our Ambassador. The few private words which
I was to get I have failed in obtaining, simply be-
cause the one person who could have spoken them is
here in London.”
“Who is that?” he enquired curiously.
“The Comtesse di Strozzi,” she told him. “It is
she who has directed the foreign policy of Italy
through Guillamo for the last ten years. He does
nothing without her. He is like a lost child, indeed,
when she is away. And where do you think she is?
Why, here in London. She is staying at the Italian
Embassy. Signor Cardina is her cousin. The great
ball to-morrow night, of which you have read, is in
her honour. You shall be my escort. At one time
I knew her quite well.”
“The Comtesse di Strozzi!” he exclaimed.


232 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Why, she spent the whole of last season in Paris.
I saw quite a great deal of her.”
“How odd "** Anna murmured. “But how de-
lightful! We shall be able to talk to her together,
you and I.”
“It is rather a coincidence,” he admitted. “She
had a sort of craze to visit some of the places in
Paris where it is necessary for a woman to go
incognito, and I was always her escort. I heard
from her only a few weeks ago, and she told me that
she was coming to London.”
Anna shook her head at him gaily.
“Well,” she said, “I won’t indulge in any ante-
jealousies. I only hope that through her we shall
get to know the truth. Are things here still quiet?”
“Absolutely.”
“Also in Paris. Francis, I feel so helpless. On
my way I thought of staying over, of going to see
the Minister of War and placing certain facts before
him. And then I realised how little use it would all
be. They won’t believe us, Francis. They would
simply call us alarmists. They won’t believe that
the storm is gathering.”
“Don’t I know it!” Norgate assented earnestly.
“Why, Hebblethwaite here has always been a great
friend of mine. I have done all I can to influence
him. He simply laughs in my face. To-day, for
the first time, he admitted that there was a slight
uneasiness at the Cabinet Meeting, and that White
had referred to a certain mysterious activity through-
out Germany. Nevertheless, he has gone down to
Walton Heath to play golf.”


234 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
be forgotten. May I venture to hope that your
journey to Italy has been productive?”
“Not entirely as we had hoped,” Anna replied,
“yet the position there is not unfavourable.”
Selingman glanced towards the table at which
Miss Morgen had already seated herself.
“I must not neglect my duties,” he remarked,
turning away.
“Especially,” Anna murmured, glancing across
the room, “when they might so easily be construed
into pleasures.”
Selingman beamed amiably.
“The young lady,” he said, “is more than orna-
mental — she is extremely useful. From the fact
that I may not be privileged to present her to you,
I must be careful that she cannot consider herself
neglected. And so good night, Baroness! Good
night, Norgate!”
He passed on. The Baroness watched him as he
took his place opposite his companion.
“Is it my fancy,” Norgate asked, “ or does Se-
lingman not meet entirely with your approval?”
She shrugged her shoulders.
“It is not that,” she replied. “He is a great
man, in his way, the Napoleon of the bourgeoisie, but
then he is one of them himself. He collects the whole
scheme of information as to the social life and opin-
ions — the domestic particulars, I call them — of
your country. Details of your industries are at his
finger-tips. He and I do not come into contact. I
am the trusted agent of both sovereigns, but it is
only in high diplomatic affairs that I ever intervene.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 235
Selingman, it is true, may be considered the greatest
spy who ever breathed, but a spy he is. If we could
only persuade your too amiable officials to believe
one-tenth of what we could tell them, I think our
friend there would breakfast in an English fortress,
if you have such a thing.”
“We should only place him under police super-
vision,” declared Norgate, “and let him go. It’s
just our way, that’s all.”
She waved the subject of Selingman on one side,
but almost at that moment he stood once more be-
fore them. He held an evening paper in his hand.
“I bring you the news,” he announced. “A ter-
rible tragedy has happened. The Archduke of Aus-
tria and his Consort have been assassinated on their
tour through Bosnia.”
For a moment neither Anna nor Norgate moved.
Norgate felt a strange sense of sickening excitement.
It was as though the curtain had been rung up!
“Is the assassin's name there?” he asked.
“The crime,” Selingman replied, “appears to have
been committed by a young Servian student. His
name is Sigismund Henriote.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 237
go into the marquee there and have supper, and
afterwards dance again. We’ll steal to-night out of
the calendar. We’ll call it ours and play with it as
we please.”
She shook her head.
“No,” she decided, “you have reminded me of our
duty, and you are quite right. You were brought
here to talk to the Comtesse. I do not know why,
but she is in a curiously impenetrable frame of mind.
I tried hard to get her to talk to me, but it was
useless; you must see what you can do. Fortunately,
she seems to be absolutely delighted to have met you
again. You have a dance with her, have you not?”
He drew out his programme reluctantly.
“The next one, too,” he sighed.
Anna rose quickly to her feet.
“How absurd of me to forget! Take me inside,
please, and go and look for her at once.”
“It’s all very well,” Norgate grumbled, “but the
last time I saw her she was about three deep among
the notabilities. I really don’t feel that I ought to
jostle dukes and ambassadors to claim a dance.”
“You must not be so foolish,” Anna insisted.
“The Comtesse cares nothing for dukes and ambas-
sadors, but she is most ridiculously fond of good-
looking young men. Mind, you will do better with
her if you speak entirely outside all of us. She is a
very peculiar woman. If one could only read the
secrets she has stored up in her brain! Sometimes
she is so lavish with them, and at other times, and
with other people, it seems as though it would take
an earthquake to force a sentence from her lips.


238 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
There she is, see, in that corner. Never mind the
people around her. Go and do your duty.”
Norgate found it easier than he had expected.
She no sooner saw him coming than she rose to her
feet and welcomed him. She laid her fingers upon his
arm, and they moved away towards the ballroom.
“I am afraid,” he apologised, “that I am rather
an intruder. You all seemed so interested in listen-
ing to the Duke.”
“On the contrary, I welcome you as a deliverer,”
she declared. “I have heard those stories so often,
and worse than having heard them is the necessity
always to smile. The Duke is a dear good person,
and he has been exceedingly kind to me during the
whole of my stay, but oh, how one sometimes does
weary oneself of this London of yours! Yet I love
it. Do you know that you were almost the first
person I asked for when I arrived here? They told
me that you were in Berlin.”
“I was,” he admitted. “I am in the act of being
transferred.”
“Fortunate person!” she murmured. “You
speak the language of all capitals, but I cannot fancy
you in Berlin.”
They had reached the edge of the ballroom. He
hesitated.
“Do you care to dance or shall we go outside and
talk?”
She smiled at him. “Both, may we not? You
dear, discreet person, when I think of the strange
places where I have danced with you — Perhaps it is
better not to remember!”


240 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
other things out of my mind. What is it that Anna
is so anxious to know from me? You are in her
confidence, she tells me.”
“Entirely.”
“That again is strange,” the Comtesse continued,
“when one considers your nationality, yet Anna her-
self has assured me of it. Do you know that she is
a person whom I very much envy? Her life is so
full of variety. She is the special protégée of
the Emperor. No woman at Vienna is more
trusted.”
“I am not sure,” Norgate observed, “that she was
altogether satisfied with the results of her visit to
Rome.”
The Comtesse’s fan fluttered slowly back and forth.
She looked for a moment or two idly upon the bril-
liant scene. The smooth garden paths, the sheltered
seats, the lawns themselves, were crowded with little
throngs of women in exquisite toilettes, men in uni-
form and Court dress. There were well-known
faces everywhere. It was the crowning triumph of
a wonderful London season.
“Anna’s was a very difficult mission,” the
Comtesse pointed out confidentially. “There is
really no secret about these matters. The whole
world knows of Italy's position. A few months
ago, at the time of what you call the Balkan Crisis,
Germany pressed us very hard for a definite assur-
ance of our support, under any conditions, of the
Triple Alliance. I remember that Andrea was three
hours with the King that day, and our reply was
unacceptable in Berlin. It may have helped to keep


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 241
the peace. One cannot tell. The Kaiser’s present
letter is simply a repetition of his feverish attempt
to probe our intentions.”
“But at present,” Norgate ventured, “there is no
Balkan Crisis.”
The Comtesse looked at him lazily out of the cor-
ners of her sleepy eyes.
“Is there not?” she asked simply. “I have been
away from Italy for a week or so, and Andrea trusts
nothing to letters. Yesterday I had a dispatch beg-
ging me to return. I go to-morrow morning. I
do not know whether it is because of the pressure of
affairs, or because he wearies himself a little with-
out me.”
“One might easily imagine the latter,” Norgate
remarked. “But is it indeed any secret to you that
there is a great feeling of uneasiness throughout
the Continent, an extraordinary state of animation,
a bustle, although a secret bustle, of preparation in
Germany?”
“I have heard rumours of this,” the Comtesse con-
fessed.
“When one bears these things in mind and looks
a little into the future,” Norgate continued, “one
might easily believe that the reply to that still un-
answered letter of the Kaiser's might well become
historical.”
“You would like me, would you not,” she asked,
“to tell you what that reply will most certainly
be?”
“Very much!”
“You are an Englishman,” she remarked thought-


242 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
fully, “and intriguing with Anna. I fear that I do
not understand the position.”
“Must you understand it?”
“Perhaps not,” she admitted. “It really mat-
ters very little. I will speak to you just in the only
way I can speak, as a private individual. I tell you
that I do not believe that Andrea will ever, under
any circumstances, join in any war against Eng-
land, nor any war which has for its object the crush-
ing of France. In his mind the Triple Alliance was
the most selfish alliance which any country has ever
entered into, but so long as the other two Powers
understood the situation, it was scarcely Italy’s part
to point out the fact that she gained everything by
it and risked nothing. Italy has sheltered herself
for years under its provisions, but neither at the
time of signing it, nor at any other time, has she
had the slightest intention of joining in an ag-
gressive war at the request of her allies. You see,
her Government felt themselves safe — and I think
that that was where Andrea was so clever — in
promising to fulfil their obligations in case of an
attack by any other Power upon Germany or Aus-
tria, because it was perfectly certain to Andrea, and
to every person of common sense, that no such ag-
gressive attack would ever be made. You read Aus-
tria’s demands from Servia in the paper this morn-
ing? **
“I did,” Norgate admitted. “No one in the
world could find them reasonable.”
“They are not meant to be reasonable,” the
Comtesse pointed out. “They are the foundation


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 243
from which the world quarrel shall spring. Russia
must intervene to protect Servia from their hideous
injustice. Germany and Austria will throw down
the gage. Germany may be right or she may be
wrong, but she believes she can count on Great
Britain's neutrality. She needs our help and be-
lieves she will get it. That is because German diplo-
macy always believes that it is going to get what it
wants. Now, in a few words, I will tell you what
the German Emperor would give me a province to
know. I will tell you that no matter what the temp-
tation, what the proffered reward may be, Italy will
not join in this war on the side of Germany and Aus-
tria.”
“You are very kind, Comtesse,” Norgate said sim-
ply, “and I shall respect your confidence.”
She rose and laid her fingers upon his arm.
“To people whom I like,” she declared, “I speak
frankly. I give away no secrets. I say what I be-
live. And now I must leave you for a much subtler
person and a much subtler conversation. Prince
Herschfeld is waiting to talk to me. Perhaps he,
too, would like to know the answer which will go to
his master, but how can I tell?”
The Ambassador had paused before them. The
Comtesse rose and accepted his arm.
“I shall take away with me to-night at least
two charming memories,” she assured him, as she
gathered up her skirts. “My two dances, Mr. Nor-
gate, have been delightful. Now I am equally sure
of entertainment of another sort from Prince Hersch-
feld.”


244 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
The Prince bowed.
“Ah! madame,” he sighed, “it is so hard to com-
pete with youth. I fear that the feet of Mr. Nor-
gate will be nimbler than my brain to-night.”
She nodded sympathetically.
“You are immersed in affairs, of course,” she
murmured. “Au revoir, Mr. Norgate! Give my
love to Anna. Some day I hope that I shall welcome
you both in Rome.”


CHAPTER XXXII
Norgate pushed his way through a confused medley
of crates which had just been unloaded and made his
way up the warehouse to Selingman's office. Seling-
man was engaged for a few minutes but presently
opened the door of his sanctum and called his visi-
tor in.
“Well, my young friend,” he exclaimed, “you
have brought news? Sit down. This is a busy
morning. We have had large shipments from Ger-
many. I have appointments with buyers most of
the day, yet I can talk to you for a little time. You
were at the ball last night?”
“I was permitted to escort the Baroness von
Haase,” Norgate replied.
Selingman nodded ponderously.
“I ask you no questions,” he said. “The Baron-
ess works on a higher plane. I know more than
you would believe, though. I know why the dear
lady went to Rome; I know why she was at the ball.
I know in what respect you were probably able to
help her. But I ask no questions. We work to-
wards a common end, but we work at opposite ends
of the pole. Curiosity alone would be gratified if
you were to tell me everything that transpired.”
“You keep yourself marvellously well-informed as
to most things, don’t you, Mr. Selingman?” Norgate
remarked.


246 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Platitudes, young man, platitudes,” Selingman
declared, “words of air. What purpose have they?
You know who I am. I hold in my hand a thousand
strings. Any one that I pull will bring an answer-
ing message to my brain. Come, what is it you wish
to say to me?”
“I am doing my work for you,” Norgate re-
marked, “and doing it extraordinarily well. I do
not object to a certain amount of surveillance, but I
am getting fed up with Boko.”
“Who the hell is Boko?” Selingman demanded.
“I must apologise,” Norgate replied. “A nick-
name only. He is a little red-faced man who looks
like a children’s toy and changes his clothes about
seven times a day. He is with me from the moment
I rise to the last thing at night. He is getting on
my nerves. I am fast drifting into the frame of
mind when one looks under the bed before one can
sleep.”
“Young man,” Selingman said, “a month ago you
were a person of no importance. To-day, so far
as I am concerned, you are a treasure-casket. You
hold secrets. You have a great value to us. Every
one in your position is watched; it is part of our
system. If the man for whom you have found so
picturesque a nickname annoys you, he shall be
changed. That is the most I can promise you.”
“You don’t trust me altogether, then?” Nor-
gate observed coolly.
Selingman tapped on the table in front of him
with his pudgy forefinger.
“Norgate,” he declared solemnly, “trust is a


248 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Norgate assumed a more interested attitude.
“I am ready,” he said. “Go on, please.”
“A movement is on foot,” Selingman proceeded,
“to establish manufactories in this country for the
purpose of producing my crockery. A very large
company will be formed, a great part of the money
towards which is already subscribed. We have ex-
amined several sites with a view to building factories,
but I have not cared at present to open up direct
negotiations. A rumour of our enterprise is about,
and the price of the land we require would advance
considerably if the prospective purchaser were
known. The land is situated, half an acre at Willes-
den, three-quarters of an acre at Golder's Hill, and
an acre at Highgate. I wish you to see the agents
for the sale of these properties. I have ascertained
indirectly the price, which you will find against each
lot, with the agent’s name,” Selingman continued,
passing across a folded slip of foolscap. “You will
treat in your own name and pay the deposit your-
self. Try and secure all three plots to-day, so that
the lawyers can prepare the deeds and my builder
can make some preparatory plans there during the
week.”
Norgate accepted the little bundle of papers with
some surprise. Enclosed with them was a thick wad
of bank-notes.
“There are two thousand pounds there for your
deposits,” Selingman continued. “If you need more,
telephone to me, but understand I want to start to
work laying the foundations within the next few
days.”


250 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
but no other signs of building, and the interior con-
sisted merely of a perfectly smooth concrete floor.
“That's the queerest way of setting about build-
ing a factory I ever saw,” the man pointed out.
Norgate, who was not greatly interested, assented.
The agent escorted him back to his taxicab.
“Of course, it’s not my business,” he admitted,
“and you needn’t say anything about this to your
principals, but I hope they don’t stop with laying
down concrete floors. Of course, money for the
property is the chief thing we want, but we do want
factories and the employment of labour, and the
sooner the better. This fellow — Reynolds, he said
his name was — pays up for the property all right,
has that concrete floor prepared, and clears off.”
“Raising the money to build, perhaps,” Norgate
remarked. “I don’t think there’s any secret about
my people’s intentions. They are going to build
factories for the manufacture of crockery.”
The agent brightened up.
“Well, that’s a new industry, anyway. Crock-
ery, eh?”
“It’s a big German firm in Cannon Street,” Nor-
gate explained. “They are going to make the stuff
here. That ought to be better for our people.”
The young man nodded.
“I expect they’re afraid of tariff reform,” he sug-
gested. “Those Germans see a long way ahead
sometimes.”
“I am beginning to believe that they do,” Nor-
gate assented, as he stepped into the taxi.


252 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“Is it?” Norgate asked simply.
“Any other question?” Selingman demanded.
“None at all.”
“Then we will go and play bridge.”
They cut into the same rubber. Selingman, how-
ever, was not at first entirely himself. He played
his cards in silence, and he once very nearly revoked.
Mrs. Benedek took him to task.
“Dear man,” she said, “we rely upon you so
much, and to-day you fail to amuse us. What is
there upon your mind? Let us console you, if we
can.”
“Dear lady, it is nothing,” Selingman assured her.
“My company is planning big developments in con-
nection with our business. The details afford me
much food for thought. My attention, I fear, some-
times wanders. Forgive me, I will make amends.
When the day comes that my new factories start
work, I will give such a party as was never seen. I
will invite you all. We will have a celebration that
every one shall talk of. And meanwhile, behold! I
will wander no longer. I declare no trumps.”
Selingman for a time was himself again. When
he cut out, however, he fidgeted a little restlessly
around the room and watched Norgate share the
same fate with an air of relief. He laid his hand
upon the latter's arm.
“Come into the other room, Norgate,” he invited.
“I have something to say to you.”
Norgate obeyed at once, but the room was al-
ready occupied. A little blond lady was entertain-
ing a soldier friend at tea. She withdrew her head


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 253
from somewhat suspicious proximity to her compan-
ion's at their entrance and greeted Selingman with
innocent surprise.
“How queer that you should come in just then,
Mr. Selingman!” she exclaimed. “We were talking
about Germany, Captain Fielder and I.”
Selingman beamed upon them both. He was en-
tirely himself again. He looked as though the one
thing in life he had desired was to find Mrs. Bar-
low and her military companion in possession of the
little drawing-room.
“My country is flattered,” he declared, “espe-
cially,” he added, with a twinkle in his eyes, “as the
subject seemed to be proving so interesting.”
She made a little grimace at him.
“Seriously, Mr. Selingman,” she continued, “Cap-
tain Fielder and I have been almost quarrelling. He
insists upon it that some day or other Germany
means to declare war upon us. I have been trying
to point out that before many years have passed
England and France will have drifted apart. Ger-
many is the nearest to us of the continental nations,
isn’t she, by relationship and race?”
“Mrs. Barlow,” Selingman pronounced, “yours is
the most sensible allusion to international politics
which I have heard for many years. You are right.
If I may be permitted to say so,” he added, “Cap-
tain Fielder is wrong. Germany has no wish to fight
with any one. The last country in the world with
whom she would care to cross swords is England.”
“If Germany does not wish for war,” Captain
Fielder persisted, “why does she keep such an


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 255
duce Servia, in fact, to the condition of a mere vas-
sal state, are intended to provoke a state of
war.”
Mr. Selingman shook his head.
“I have seen the proposals,” he remarked.
“They were in the second edition of the morning
papers. They are onerous, without a doubt, but
remember that as you go further east, all diplomacy
becomes a matter of barter. They ask for so much
first because they are prepared to take a great deal
less.”
“It is my opinion,” Captain Fielder pronounced,
“that these demands are couched with the sole idea
of inciting Russia’s intervention. There is already
a report that Servia has appealed to St. Petersburg.
It is quite certain that Russia, as the protector of
the Slav nations, can never allow Servia to be hum-
bled to this extent.”
“Even then,” Mr. Selingman protested good-
humouredly, “Austria is not Germany.”
“There are very few people,” Captain Fielder
continued, “who do not realise that Austria is act-
ing exactly as she is bidden by Germany. To-mor-
row you will find that Russia has intervened. If
Vienna disregards her, there will be mobilisation along
the frontiers. It is my private and very firm im-
pression that Germany is mobilising to-day, and se-
cretly.”
Mr. Selingman laughed good-humouredly.
“Well, well,” he said, “let us hope it is not quite
so bad as that.”
“You are frightening me, Captain Fielder,” Mrs.


256 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Barlow declared. “I am going to take you off to
play bridge.”
They left the room. Selingman looked after them
a little curiously.
“Your military friend,” he remarked, “is rather
a pessimist.”
“Well, we haven’t many of them,” Norgate re-
plied. “Nine people out of ten believe that a war is
about as likely to come as an earthquake.”
Selingman glanced towards the closed door.
“Supposing,” he said, dropping his voice a little,
“supposing I were to tell you, young man, that I en-
tirely agreed with your friend? Supposing I were
to tell you that, possibly by accident, he has stumbled
upon the exact truth? What would you say then?”
Norgate shrugged his shoulders.
“Well,” he observed, “we’ve agreed, haven’t we,
that a little lesson would be good for England? It
might as well come now as at any other time.”
“It will not come yet,” Mr. Selingman went on,
“but I will tell you what is going to happen.”
His voice had fallen almost to a whisper, his man-
ner had become portentous.
“Within a week or two,” he said, “Germany and
Austria will have declared war upon Russia and
Servia and France. Italy will join the allies — that
you yourself know. As for England, her time has
not come yet. We shall keep her neutral. All the
recent information which we have collected makes it
clear that she is not in a position to fight, even if she
wished to. Nevertheless, to make a certainty of it,
we shall offer her great inducements. We shall be


CHAPTER XXXIV
Norgate’s expression was almost one of stupefac-
tion. He looked at the slim young man who had
entered his sitting-room a little diffidently and for
a moment he was speechless.
“Well, I’m hanged!” he murmured at last.
“Hardy, you astonish me!”
“The clothes are a perfect fit, sir,” the man ob-
served, “and I think that we are exactly the same
height.” -
Norgate took a cigarette from an open box,
tapped it against the table and lit it. He was fas-
cinated, however, by the appearance of the man who
stood respectfully in the background.
“Talk about clothes making the man!” he ex-
claimed. “Why, Hardy, do you realise your possi-
bilities? You could go into my club and dine, order
jewels from my jeweller. I am not at all sure that
you couldn’t take my place at a dinner-party.”
The man smiled deprecatingly.
“Not quite that, I am sure, sir. If I may be al-
lowed to say so, though, when you were good enough
to give me the blue serge suit a short time ago, and
a few of your old straw hats, two or three gentlemen
stopped me under the impression that I was you. I
should not have mentioned it, sir, but for the present
circumstances.”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 259
“And no wonder!” Norgate declared. “If this
weren’t really a serious affair, Hardy, I should be
inclined to make a little humorous use of you.
That isn't what I want now, though. Listen. Put
on one of my black overcoats and a silk hat, get the
man to call you a taxi up to the door, and drive to
Smith's Hotel. You will enquire for the suite of
the Baroness von Haase. The Baroness will allow
you to remain in her rooms for half an hour. At
the end of that time you will return here, change
your clothes, and await any further orders.”
“Very good, sir,” the man replied.
“Help yourself to cigarettes,” Norgate invited,
passing the box across. “Do the thing properly.
Sit well back in the taxicab, although I’m hanged if
I think that my friend Boko stands an earthly.
Plenty of money in your pocket?”
“Plenty, thank you, sir.”
The man left the room, and Norgate, after a brief
delay, followed his example. A glance up and down
the courtyard convinced him that Boko had disap-
peared. He jumped into a taxi, gave an address
in Belgrave Square, and within a quarter of an hour
was ushered into the presence of Mr. Spencer Wyatt,
who was seated at a writing-table covered with
papers.
“Mr. Norgate, isn’t it?” the latter remarked
briskly. “I had Mr. Hebblethwaite’s note, and I
am very pleased to give you five minutes. Sit down,
won’t you, and fire away.”
“Did Mr. Hebblethwaite give you any idea as to
what I wanted?” Norgate asked.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 261
His eyebrows had drawn a little closer together.
He remained silent, however.
“I talk about the things I know of,” Norgate con-
tinued. “By chance I have been associated during
the last few weeks with the head of the German spies
who infest this country. I have joined his ranks;
I have become a double traitor. I do his work, but
every report I hand in is a false one.”
“Do you realise quite what you are saying, Mr.
Norgate?”
“Realise it?” Norgate repeated. “My God!
Do you think I come here to say these things to you
for dramatic effect, or from a sense of humour, or
as a lunatic? Every word I shall say to you is the
truth. At the present moment there isn’t a soul who
seriously believes that England is going to be drawn
into what the papers describe as a little eastern
trouble. I want to tell you that that little eastern
trouble has been brought about simply with the idea
of provoking a European war. Germany is ready to
strike at last, and this is her moment. Not a fort-
night ago I sat opposite the boy Henriote in a café
in Soho. My German friend handed him the money
to get back to his country and to buy bombs. It’s
all part of the plot. Austria's insane demands are
part of the plot; they are meant to drag Russia in.
Russia must protest; she must mobilise. Germany is
secretly mobilising at this moment. She will declare
war against Russia, strike at France through Bel-
gium. She will appeal to us for our neutrality.”
“These are wonderful things you are saying, Mr.
Norgate!”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 263
“You are rather taking my breath away, Mr. Nor-
gate!”
“I can’t help it, sir,” Norgate said simply. “I
know that what I am telling you must sound like a
fairy tale. I beg you to take it from me as the
truth.”
“But,” Mr. Spencer Wyatt remarked, “if you
have come into all this information, Mr. Norgate,
why didn’t you go to your friend Hebblethwaite?
Why haven’t you communicated with the police and
given this German spy of yours into charge?”
“I have been to Hebblethwaite, and I have been
to Scotland Yard,” Norgate told him firmly, “and
all that I have got for my pains has been a snub.
They won’t believe in German spies. Mr. Wyatt,
you are a man of a little different temperament and
calibre from those others. I tell you that all of
them in the Cabinet have their heads thrust deep
down into the sand. They won’t listen to me. They
wouldn’t believe a word of what I am saying to you,
but it’s true.”
Mr. Spencer Wyatt leaned back in his chair. He
had folded his arms. He was looking over the top
of his desk across the room. His eyebrows were
knitted, his thoughts had wandered away. For sev-
eral moments there was silence. Then at last he
rose to his feet, unlocked the safe which stood by his
side, and took out a solid chart dotted in many
places with little flags, each one of which bore the
name of a ship. He looked at it attentively.
“That’s the position of every ship we own, at six
o'clock this evening,” he pointed out. “It’s true we


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 265
you talk about. I risked everything, only a few
weeks ago, on my belief. I’ll risk my whole career
now. Keep your mouth shut; don’t say a word.
Until to-morrow you will be the only man in Eng-
land who knows it. I am going to mobilise the fleet
to-night. Shake hands, Mr. Norgate. You’re
either the best friend or the worst foe I’ve ever had.
My coat and hat,” he ordered the servant who an-
swered his summons. “Tell your mistress, if she
enquires, that I have gone down to the Admiralty on
special business.”


CHAPTER XXXV
Anna passed her hand through Norgate’s arm and
led him forcibly away from the shop window before
which they had been standing.
“My mind is absolutely made up,” she declared
firmly. “I adore shopping, I love Bond Street, and
I rather like you, but I will have no more trifles, as
you call them. If you do not obey, I shall gaze into
the next tobacconist's window we pass, and go in
and buy you all sorts of unsmokable and unusable
things. And, oh, dear, here is the Count! I feel
like a child who has played truant from school.
What will he do to me, Francis?”
“Don’t worry, dear,” Norgate laughed. “We’re
coming to the end of this tutelage, you know.”
Count Lanyoki, who had stopped his motor-car,
came across the street towards them. He was, as
usual, irreproachably attired. He wore white
gaiters, patent shoes, and a grey, tall hat. His
black hair, a little thin at the forehead, was brushed
smoothly back. His moustache, also black but
streaked with grey, was twisted upwards. He had,
as always, the air of having just left the hands of
his valet.
“Dear Baroness,” he exclaimed, as he accosted
her, “London has been searched for you! At the
Embassy my staff are reduced to despair. Tele-


268 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
The Count hesitated. “That,” he declared, “is
scarcely the question. What troubles me most is
that forty-eight hours ago I brought you a dispatch
from the Emperor.”
“You brought,” Anna pointed out, “what really
amounted to an order to return at once to Vienna.
Well, you see, I have disobeyed it.”
They were standing at the corner of Clifford
Street, and the Count, with a little gesture, led the
way into the less crowded thoroughfare.
“Dear Baroness,” he continued, as they walked
slowly along, “I am placed now in a most extraordi-
nary position. The Emperor's telegram was of seri-
ous import. It cannot be that you mean to disobey
his summons?”
“Well, I really couldn’t put off being married,
could I,” Anna protested, “especially when my hus-
band had just got the special license. Besides, I do
not wish to return to Vienna just now.”
The Count glanced at Norgate and appeared to
deliberate for a moment.
“The state of affairs in the East,” he said, “is
such that it is certainly wiser for every one just now
to be within the borders of their own country.”
“You believe that things are serious?” Anna en-
quired. “You believe, then, that real trouble is at
hand?”
“I fear so,” the Count acknowledged. “It ap-
pears to us that Servia has a secret understanding
with Russia, or she would not have ventured upon
such an attitude as she is now adopting towards us.
If that be so, the possibilities of trouble are immense,


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 269
almost boundless. That is why, Baroness, the Em-
peror has sent for you. That is why I think you
should not hesitate to at once obey his summons.”
Anna looked up at her companion, her eyes wide
open, a little smile parting her lips.
“But, Count,” she exclaimed, “you seem to for-
get! A few days ago, all that you say to me was
reasonable enough, but to-day there is a great differ-
ence, is there not? I have married an Englishman.
Henceforth this is my country.”
There was a moment's silence. The Count seemed
dumbfounded. He stared at Anna as though unable
to grasp the meaning of her words.
“Forgive me, Baroness!” he begged. “I cannot
for the moment realise the significance of this thing.
Do you mean me to understand that you consider
yourself now an Englishwoman?”
“I do indeed,” she assented. “There are many
ties which still bind me to Austria — ties, Count,”
she proceeded, looking him in the face, “of which I
shall be mindful. Yet I am not any longer the
Baroness von Haase. I am Mrs. Francis Norgate,
and I have promised to obey my husband in all man-
ner of ridiculous things. At the same time, may I
add something which will, perhaps, help you to ac-
cept the position with more philosophy? My hus-
band is a friend of Herr Selingman’s.”
The Count glanced quickly towards Norgate.
There was some relief in his face — a great deal of
distrust, however.
“Baroness,” he said, “my advice to you, for your
own good entirely, is, with all respect to your hus-


27o THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
band, that you shorten your honeymoon and pay
your respects to the Emperor. I think that you owe
it to him. I think that you owe it to your country.”
Anna for a moment was grave again.
“Just at present,” she pronounced, “I realise one
debt only, and that is to my husband. I will come
to the Embassy to-morrow and discuss these mat-
ters with you, Count, but whether my husband ac-
companies me or not, I have now no secrets from
him.”
“The position, then,” the Count declared, “is in-
tolerable. May I ask whether you altogether realise,
Baroness, what this means? The Emperor is your
guardian. All your estates are subject to his juris-
diction. It is his command that you return to
Vienna.”
Anna laughed again. She passed her fingers
through Norgate’s arm.
“You see,” she explained, as they stood for a mo-
ment at the corner of the street, “I have a new em-
peror now, and he will not let me go.”
Selingman frowned a little as he recognised his
visitor. Nevertheless, he rose respectfully to his
feet and himself placed a chair by the side of his
desk.
“My dear Count!” he exclaimed. “I am very
glad to see you, but this is an unusual visit. I would
have met you somewhere, or come to the Embassy.
Have we not agreed that it was well for Herr Seling-
man, the crockery manufacturer —”
“That is all very well, Selingman,” the Count in-


272 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
in very useful work. I cannot blindfold him. He
knows.”
“Then I fear treachery,” the Count declared.
“Have you any reason for saying that?’” Seling-
man asked.
The Count lit a cigarette with trembling fingers.
“Listen,” he said, “always, my friend, you under-
value a little the English race. You undervalue their
intelligence, their patriotism, their poise towards the
serious matters of life. I know nothing of Mr.
Francis Norgate save what I saw this morning. He
is one of that type of Englishmen, clean-bred, well-
born, full of reserve, taciturn, yet, I would swear,
honourable. I know the type, and I do not believe
in such a man being your servant.”
The shadow of anxiety crossed Selingman’s face.
“Have you any reason for saying this?” he re-
peated.
“No reason save the instinct which is above rea-
son,” the Count replied quickly. “I know that if
the Baroness and he put their heads together, we
may be under the shadow of catastrophe.”
Selingman sat with folded arms for several mo-
ments.
“Count,” he said at last, “I appreciate your point
of view. You have, I confess, disturbed me. Yet of
this young man I have little fear. I did not ap-
proach him by any vulgar means. I took, as they
say here, the bull by the horns. I appealed to his
patriotism.”
“To what?” the Count demanded incredulously.
“To his patriotism,” Selingman repeated. “I


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 279
Selingman nodded gravely.
“When that day comes,” he said, as he rose and
took up his hat, “it will not be a war. If your peo-
ple resist, it will be a butchery. Better to find your-
self in one of the Baroness’ castles in Austria when
that time comes It is never worth while to draw a
sword in a lost cause. I wish you good night,
Baroness. I wish you good night, Norgate.”
He shook hands with them both firmly, but there
was still something of reserve in his manner. Nor-
gate rang for his servant to show him out. They
took their places once more by the window.
“War!” Norgate murmured, his eyes fixed upon
the distant lights.
Anna crept a little nearer to him.
“Francis,” she whispered, “that man has made me
a little uneasy. Supposing they should discover
that you have deceived them, before they have been
obliged to leave the country!”
“They will be much too busy,” Norgate replied,
“to think about me.”
Anna’s face was still troubled. “I did not like that
man's look,” she persisted, “when he asked you what
you were doing at Camberley. Perhaps he still be-
lieves that you have told the truth, but he might easily
have it in his mind that you knew too many of their
secrets to be trusted when the vital moment came.”
Norgate leaned over and drew her towards him.
“Selingman has gone,” he murmured. “It is only
outside that war is throbbing. Dearest, I think that
my vital moments are now!”


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 283
am proud of all that I have done in that direction.
For the reduction of our armaments I accept the full
responsibility. It is true that I have opposed na-
tional service. I want to see the people develop com-
mercially. The withdrawing of a million of young
men, even for a month every year, from their regular
tasks, would not only mean a serious loss to the
manufacturing community, but it would be apt to
unsettle and unsteady them. Further, it would
kindle in this country the one thing I am anxious to
avoid — the military spirit. We do not need it,
Duchess. We are a peace-loving nation, civilised out
of the crude lust for conquest founded upon blood-
shed. I do believe that geographically and from
every other point of view, England, with her navy,
can afford to fold her arms, and if other nations
should at any time be foolish enough to imperil their
very existence by fighting for conquest or revenge,
then we, who are strong enough to remain aloof, can
only grow richer and stronger by the disasters which
happen to them.”
There was a momentary silence. The Duchess
leaned back in her chair, and Mr. Hebblethwaite, al-
ways the courteous host, talked for a while to the
woman on his left. The Duchess, however, reopened
the subject a few minutes later.
“I come, you must remember, Mr. Hebblethwaite,”
she observed, “from long generations of soldiers, and
you, as you have reminded me, from a long race of
yeomen and tradespeople. Therefore, without a
doubt, our point of view must be different. That,
perhaps, is what makes conversation between us so


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 285
at the point of the sword but in the counting-houses
of the world. If I fear the Germans, it is commer-
cially, and from no other point of view.”
“I wish I could feel your confidence,” the Duchess
sighed.
“I have myself recently returned from Berlin,”
Mr. Hebblethwaite continued. “Busby, as you
know, has been many times an honoured guest there
at their universities and in their great cities. He has
had every opportunity of probing the tendencies of
the people. His mind is absolutely and finally made
up. Not in all history has there ever existed a race
freer from the lust of bloodthirsty conquest than the
German people of to-day.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite concluded his sentence with
some emphasis. He felt that his words were carry-
ing conviction. Some of the conversation at their
end of the table had been broken off to listen to his
pronouncements. At that moment his butler touched
him upon the elbow.
“Mr. Bedells has just come up from the War
Office, sir,” he announced. “He is waiting out-
side. In the meantime, he desired me to give you
this.”
The butler, who had served an archbishop, and re-
sented often his own presence in the establishment of
a Radical Cabinet Minister, presented a small silver
salver on which reposed a hastily twisted up piece of
paper. Mr. Hebblethwaite, with a little nod, un-
rolled it and glanced towards the Duchess, who bowed
complacently. With the smile still upon his lips, a
confident light in his eyes, Mr. Hebblethwaite held


286 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
out the crumpled piece of paper before him and read
the hurriedly scrawled pencil lines:
“Germany has declared war against Russia
and presented an ultimatum to France. I
have other messages.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite was a strong man. He was a
man of immense self-control. Yet in that moment
the arteries of life seemed as though they had ceased
to flow. He sat at the head of his table, and his eyes
never left those pencilled words. His mind fought
with them, discarded them, only to find them still
there hammering at his brain, traced in letters of
scarlet upon the distant walls. War! The great,
unbelievable tragedy, the one thousand-to-one chance
in life which he had ever taken! His hand almost
fell to his side. There was a queer little silence. No
one liked to ask him a question; no one liked to speak.
It was the Duchess at last who murmured a few
words, when the silence had become intolerable.
“It is bad news?” she whispered.
“It is very bad news indeed,” Mr. Hebblethwaite
answered, raising his voice a little, so that every one
at the table might hear him. “I have just heard
from the War Office that Germany has declared war
against Russia. You will perhaps, under the cir-
cumstances, excuse me.”
He rose to his feet. There was a queer singing in
his ears. The feast seemed to have turned to a sickly
debauch. All that pinnacle of success seemed to
have fallen away. The faces of his guests, even, as


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 287
they looked at him, seemed to his conscience to be ex-
pressing one thing, and one thing only — that same
horrible conviction which was deadening his own
senses. He and the others — could it be true?—
had they taken up lightly the charge and care of a
mighty empire and dared to gamble upon, instead of
providing for, its security? He thrust the thought
away; and the natural strength of the man began to
reassert itself. If they had done ill, they had done
it for the people’s sake. The people must rally to
them now. He held his head high as he left the room.


CHAPTER XXXVIII
Norgate found himself in an atmosphere of strange
excitement during his two hours’ waiting at the
House of Commons on the following day. He was
ushered at last into Mr. Hebblethwaite’s private
room. Hebblethwaite had just come in from the
House and was leaning a little back in his chair, in
an attitude of repose. He glanced at Norgate with
a faint smile.
“Well, young fellow,” he remarked, “come to do
the usual “I told you so" business, I suppose?”
“Don’t be an ass!” Norgate most irreverently re-
plied. “There are one or two things I must tell you
and tell you at once. I may have hinted at them
before, but you weren’t taking things seriously then.
First of all, is Mr. Bullen in the House?” -
“Of course!”
“Could you send for him here just for a minute?”
Norgate pleaded. “I am sure it would make what I
am going to say sound more convincing to you.”
Hebblethwaite struck a bell by his side and des-
patched a messenger.
“How are things going?” Norgate asked.
“France is mobilising as fast as she can,” Heb-
blethwaite announced. “We have reports coming in
that Germany has been at it for at least a week, se-
cretly. They say that Austrian troops have crossed
into Poland. There isn’t anything definite yet, but


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 289
it’s war, without a doubt, war just as we’d struck
the right note for peace. Russia was firm but splen-
did. Austria was wavering. Just at the critical
moment, like a thunderbolt, came Germany’s declara-
tion of war. Here’s Mr. Bullen. Now go ahead,
Norgate.”
Mr. Bullen came into the room, recognised Nor-
gate, and stopped short.
“So you’re here again, young man, are you?” he
exclaimed. “I don’t know why you’ve sent for me,
Hebblethwaite, but if you take my advice, you won’t
let that young fellow go until you’ve asked him a
few questions.”
“Mr. Norgate is a friend of mine,” Hebblethwaite
said. “I think you will find —”
“Friend or no friend,” the Irishman interrupted,
“he is a traitor, and I tell you so to his face.”
“That is exactly what I wished you to tell Mr.
Hebblethwaite,” Norgate remarked, nodding pleas-
antly. “I just want you to recall the circumstances
of my first visit here.”
“You came and offered me a bribe of a million
pounds,” Mr. Bullen declared, “if I would provoke
a civil war in Ireland in the event of England getting
into trouble. I wasn’t sure whom you were acting
for then, but I am jolly certain now. That young
fellow is a German spy, Hebblethwaite.”
“Mr. Hebblethwaite knew that quite well,” ad-
mitted Norgate coolly. “I came and told him so
several times. I think that he even encouraged me to
do my worst.”
“Look here, Norgate,” Hebblethwaite intervened,


290 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
“I’m certain you are driving at something serious.
Let’s have it.”
“Quite right, I am,” Norgate assented. “I just
wanted to testify to you that Mr. Bullen's reply to
my offer was the patriotic reply of a loyal Irishman.
I did offer him that million pounds on behalf of Ger-
many, and he did indignantly refuse it, but the point
of the whole thing is — my report to Germany.”
“And that?” Mr. Hebblethwaite asked eagerly.
“I reported Mr. Bullen's acceptance of the sum,”
Norgate told them. “I reported that civil war in
Ireland was imminent and inevitable and would come
only the sooner for any continental trouble in which
England might become engaged.”
Mr. Hebblethwaite’s face cleared.
“I begin to understand now, Norgate,” he mut-
tered. “Good fellow !”
Mr. Bullen was summoned in hot haste by one of
his supporters and hurried out. Norgate drew his
chair a little closer to his friend’s.
“Look here, Hebblethwaite,” he said, “you
wouldn’t listen to me, you know — I don’t blame you
— but I knew the truth of what I was saying. I
knew what was coming. The only thing I could do
to help was to play the double traitor. I did it.
My chief, who reported to Berlin that this civil war
was inevitable, will get it in the neck, but there’s more
to follow. The Baroness von Haase and I were as-
sociated in an absolutely confidential mission to ascer-
tain the likely position of Italy in the event of this
conflict. I know for a fact that Italy will not come
in with her allies.”


298 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
the heart in his sitting-room at the Milan Court, with
a revolver by his side. There was a letter addressed
to his wife, who had left the day before for Paris.
No further particulars could be given of the tragedy.
The little group of men and women all looked at one
another in a strange, questioning manner. For a
moment the war cloud seemed to have passed even
from their memories. It was something newer and
in a sense more dramatic, this. Norgate — one of
themselves! Norgate, who had played bridge with
them day after day, had been married only a week
or so ago — dead, under the most horrible of all con-
ditions! And Baring, only a few weeks before!
There was an uneasiness about which no one could put
into words, vague suspicions, strange imaginings.
“It’s only three weeks,” some one muttered, “since
poor Baring shot himself! What the devil does it
mean? Norgate — why, the fellow was full of com-
mon sense.”
“He was fearfully cut up,” some one interposed,
“about that Berlin affair.”
“But he was just married,” Mrs. Paston Benedek
reminded them, “married to the most charming
woman in Europe, rich, too, and noble. I saw
them only two days ago together. They were the
picture of happiness. This is too terrible. I am go-
ing into the other room to sit down. Please forgive
me. Mr. Selingman, will you give me your arm?”
She passed into the little drawing-room, almost
dragging her companion. She closed the door behind
them. Her eyes were brilliant. The words came
hot and quivering from her lips.


300 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
Selingman nodded very slightly.
“It is seldom,” he declared, “that we go so far.
Believe me, it is only because our great Empire is
making its move, stretching out for the great world
war, that I gave the word. What is one man's life
when millions are soon to perish?”
She sank down into an easy-chair and covered her
face with her hands.
“I am answered,” she murmured, “only I know
now I was not made for these things. I love schem-
ing, but I am a woman.”


302 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
the fight solely by means of your fleet. It is Ger-
many’s suggestion that, in return for your neutral-
ity, she should withdraw her fleet from action and
leave the French northern towns unbombarded. You
will then be in a position to fulfil your obligations to
France, whatever they may be, without moving a
stroke or spending a penny. It is a triumph of
diplomacy, that — a veritable triumph.”
“It does sound all right,” Mrs. Barlow admitted.
“It has relieved my mind of a mighty burden,”
Selingman continued, setting down his empty plate
and brushing the crumbs from his waistcoat. “I
feel now that we can look on at this world drama
with sorrowing eyes, indeed, but free from feelings
of hatred and animosity. I have had a trying day.
I should like a little bridge. Let us —”
Selingman did not finish his sentence. The whole
room, for a moment, seemed to become a study in
still life. A woman who had been crossing the floor
stood there as though transfixed. A man who was
dealing paused with an outstretched card in his hand.
Every eye was turned on the threshold. It was Nor-
gate who stood there, Norgate metamorphosed, in
khaki uniform — an amazing spectacle! Mrs. Bar-
low was the first to break the silence with a pierc-
ing shriek. Then the whole room seemed to be in
a turmoil. Selingman alone sat quite still. There
was a grey shade upon his face, and the veins were
standing out at the back of his hands.
“So sorry to startle you all,” Norgate said
apologetically. “Of course, you haven’t seen the
afternoon papers. It was my valet who was found


304 THE DOUBLE TRAITOR
black with passion. He pushed a man away who
stood between them. He was face to face with Nor-
gate.
“So you,” he thundered, suddenly reckless of the
bystanders, “are a double traitor! You have taken
pay from Germany and deceived her! You knew,
after all, that your Government would make war
when the time came. Is that so?”
“I was always convinced of it,” Norgate replied
calmly. “I also had the honour of deceiving you
in the matter of Mr. Bullen. I have been the means,
owing to your kind and thoughtful information, of
having the fleet mobilised and ready to strike at the
present moment, and there are various little pieces
of property I know about, Mr. Selingman, around
London, where we have taken the liberty of blow-
ing up your foundations. There may be a little dis-
appointment for you, too, in the matter of Italy.
The money you were good enough to pay me for
my doubtful services, has gone towards the estab-
lishment of a Red Cross hospital. As for you,
Selingman, I denounce you now as one of those who
worked in this country for her ill, one of those pests
of the world, working always in the background, dis-
honourably and selfishly, against the country whose
hospitality you have abused. If I have met you on
your own ground, well, I am proud of it. You are
a German spy, Selingman.”
Selingman’s hand fumbled in his pocket. Scarcely
a soul was surprised when Norgate gripped him by
the wrist, and they saw the little shining revolver fall
down towards the fender.


THE DOUBLE TRAITOR 305
“You shall suffer for these words,” Selingman
thundered. “You young fool, you shall bite the
dust, you and hundreds of thousands of your cow-
ardly fellows, when the German flag flies from Buck-
ingham Palace.”
Norgate held up his hand and turned towards the
door. Two men in plain clothes entered.
“That may be a sight,” Norgate said calmly,
“which you, at any rate, will not be permitted to
see. I have had some trouble in arranging for your
arrest, as we are not yet under martial law, but I
think you will find your way to the Tower of Lon-
don before long, and I hope it will be with your
back to the light and a dozen rifles pointing to your
heart.”
A third man had come into the room. He tapped
Selingman on the shoulder and whispered in his ear.
“I demand to see your warrant!” the latter ex-
claimed.
The officer produced it. Selingman threw it on
the floor and spat upon it. He looked around the
room, in the further corner of which two men and a
woman were standing upon chairs to look over the
heads of the little crowd.
“Take me where you will,” he snarled. “You
are a rotten, treacherous, cowardly race, you Eng-
lish, and I hate you all. You can kill me first, if
you will, but in two months’ time you shall learn
what it is like to wait hand and foot upon your con-
querors.”
He strode out of the room, a guard on either side
of him and the door closed. One woman had fainted.





E. Phillips Oppenheim's Novels
Jeanne of the Marshes $1.30 met
Strange doings at an English house party are here set forth.
As a Man Lives $1.30 met
Discloses the mystery surrounding the fair occupant of a yellow
house.
The Illustrious Prince $1.30 met
Exposes a Japanese political intrigue in London.
The Lost Ambassador $1.30 met
A straightforward mystery tale of Paris and London.
A Daughter of the Marionis $1.30 met
A tale of a beautiful Sicilian whose love interfered with her
revenge.
The Mystery of Mr. Bernard Brown $1.30 met
An ingenious solution of a murder mystery.
The Survivor $1.25 met
A striking story of a young Englishman's uphill fight.
The World's Great Snare $1.25 net
The love romance of a pretty American girl and an English
prospector.
Those Other Days $1.25 net
A collection of gripping and vivid stories.
For the Queen $1.25 ner
Remarkable stories of diplomatic scandals and political intrigue.
Little, Brown & Co., Publishers, Boston