CHAPTER X
THE ANSWER OF THE MIKADO
A week later, that is to say, on the 8th of February, 1904, I was in Tokio.
The behavior of the Princess Y – on hearing of the death of her victim had been a strange mixture of heartlessness and hysterical remorse.
At the first sound of the fatal shots, she came rushing to the scene of the tragedy, and cast herself on the floor of the corridor beside the dead man, seizing his hands, crying his name aloud, and weeping frantically.
When I tried to raise her, so that the body might be removed, she turned on me fiercely.
“This is your fault!” she cried. “Who are you, and how dared you interfere with me?”
“As you see by my uniform, I am an inspector of police attached to the Third Section.”
She gazed at me searchingly for a moment, and then, lowering her voice, and bringing her lips to my ear, she said with intense energy:
“It is a lie. I am here by the orders of the Minister himself, as you must know well. You are acting against us, whoever you are.”
“I am acting by order of the Czar,” I responded.
She smiled scornfully.
“I expect that is another lie. You could not have got so far as you have unless you had some one else behind you. Poor Nicholas! – Every one knows what he is, and that he has less power than any other man in Russia. Are you Witte’s man, I wonder?”
“You are a bold woman to question me,” I said. “How do you know that I am not going to arrest you for stealing and destroying the Czar’s letter?”
“I should not remain long under arrest,” was the significant answer. She gave me another searching look, and muttered to herself, “If I did not know that he was safe in the hands of my friends in Petersburg I should think you must be a certain Monsieur – ”
She broke off without pronouncing my name, and turned away.
At Mukden, the next stopping place, the Princess Y – left the train, no doubt intending to travel back to Russia and report her success.
In the meantime, I had reason to think she had notified her friends in Manchuria to keep an eye on me.
All the way to Dalny I felt by that instinct which becomes second nature to a man of my profession that I was under surveillance. I detected a change in the manner of my friend the train superintendent. My trifling luggage was carefully searched. In the night when I was asleep some one went through my pockets. I was able to see that even the contents of my cigarette case, which I had not opened since leaving Petersburg, had been turned out and put back again.
As the train neared Dalny I began to feel a little nervous. I had a dread of being stopped on my way to embark on board the steampacket which was still running to Tokio.
The train drew up at last, at the end of its five-thousand-mile-run, and I stepped off it to the platform, carrying my valise in my hand.
The platform was literally swarming with spies, as it was easy for a man of my experience to detect. I walked calmly through them to the cab-stand, and hailed a droshky.
The driver, before starting off, exchanged a signal almost openly with a stout man in plain clothes, who dogged me from the railway carriage.
Presently I sighted the steamer, alongside the principal wharf, with the smoke pouring out of its funnel, all ready to start.
The cabman whipped his horse and drove straight past the steamer.
“Where are you going?” I shouted.
“To the Custom House first; it is the regulation,” was the answer.
Taking out my long neglected case, I placed a cigarette between my lips, and asked the driver for some matches.
He passed me a wooden box. I struck several, but each went out in the high wind before igniting the tobacco.
I was making another attempt as the droshky drew up outside the steps of the Custom House. I dismounted negligently, while one of the officials came and clutched my luggage. Then I walked slowly up the steps, pausing in the porch to strike a fresh match.
A porter snatched the box from my hand. “Smoking is forbidden,” he said roughly. “Wait till you are out again.”
I shrugged my shoulders, pinched the burning end of the cigarette, which I retained in my mouth, and sauntered with an air of supreme indifference after the man who was carrying my bag.
He led me into a room in which a severe-looking official was seated at a desk.
“Your papers,” he demanded.
I produced the papers with which I had been furnished by Rostoy.
The customs official scrutinized them, evidently in the hope of discovering some flaw.
“On what business are you going to Tokio?” he demanded.
I smiled.
“Since when have the police of the Third Section been obliged to render an account of themselves to the officers of the customs?” I asked defiantly.
“How do I know that you are not a Japanese spy?”
I laughed heartily.
“You must be mad. How do I know that you are not a Nihilist?” I retorted.
The customs officer turned pale. I saw that my chance shot had gone home. The Russian imperial services are honeycombed by revolutionary intrigues.
“Well, I shall detain your luggage for examination,” he declared.
This time I pretended the greatest agitation. Of course, the more I resisted the more he insisted. In the end he allowed me to depart without my person being searched. The fact is I had convinced him that he held an important prize in my worthless valise.
I was just in time to catch the steamer. As I crossed the gangway, a man dressed like a coal-trimmer turned on me a last careful scrutiny, and remarked,
“Your cigarette has gone out, Mister.”
“Can you give me a light? Thank you!” I struck a match, drew a puff of smoke, and handed him back the box. Then I walked on board, the gangway was drawn in, and the Japanese steamer headed out to the open sea.
On reaching Tokio I experienced some difficulty in obtaining an audience of the Japanese ruler.
I was obliged to announce my name. It will hardly be believed, but the chamberlain whom I had entrusted with the important secret, brought back the answer that the Mikado had never heard of me!
“Tell his imperial majesty that there is no monarch of Europe, and only two of Asia, who could say the same. I am here as the confidential plenipotentiary of the Czar, with an autograph letter addressed to the Mikado, and I respectfully ask leave to present it in person.”
Such a demand of course could not be refused. But even now the haughty Japanese did not receive me in the privacy of his own cabinet. On the contrary, I found myself introduced into the State Council-Room, in which his majesty was seated at a table surrounded by his chief advisers.
In particular I remarked the venerable Yamagata, conqueror of China, and the round bullet-head of Oyama, the future overthrower of Kuropatkin.
On the table was spread out a large map, or rather plan, of the entire theater of war, including Manchuria, Korea, Japan and the seas between. A man in naval uniform was standing beside the imperial chair, with an expectant look on his face.
All eyes were turned upon me at my entrance. The Mikado beckoned to me to approach him.
“Is it true that you bring me a letter from the Russian Emperor?” he asked abruptly. “We have received information that such a letter was on its way, but that the bearer was murdered on the Manchurian railway four days ago.”
“Your majesty’s information is substantially correct,” I answered. “The messenger, a Colonel Menken, was seduced into parting with his despatch, and committed suicide in consequence.”
“Well, and what about yourself?”
“Foreseeing that the unscrupulous men who have been trying to force on a war between his Russian majesty and your majesty would leave no stone unturned to intercept this despatch, the Czar wrote a duplicate with his own hand, which he entrusted to me, in the hope that I might baffle the conspirators.”
“Where is it?”
“I endeavored to conceal it by unstitching the front of the shirt I am wearing, and sewing it up between the folds.
“Unfortunately I was drugged at a dinner party in Petersburg just before starting. I was unconscious for an hour and a half, and I fear that the opponents of peace have taken advantage of the opportunity to find and rob me of the letter. But I will see, with your majesty’s permission.”
The Mikado made no answer. Amid a breathless silence, with all the room watching my movements, I tore open my shirt-front and extracted a paper.
It was blank.
“So,” commented the Japanese Emperor, sternly, “you have no such credentials as you boasted of having.”
“Pardon me, sire. Anticipating that the War Party would suspect the object of my mission, and would resort to some such step to defeat it, I purposely provided them with a document to steal, believing that when they had robbed me of it they would allow me to proceed unmolested. My real credentials are here.”
I drew out my cigarette case, found the partially smoked cigarette I had had in my mouth when I ran the gauntlet of the spies at Dalny, and proceeded to cut off the paper. On the inner surface these words were written in the hand of the Czar:
The bearer of this, M. V – , has my full confidence, and is authorized to settle conditions of peace.
Nicholas.
As I respectfully placed the scrap of paper, with its charred edges, in the Mikado’s hand, I was conscious of a profound sensation in the room. Aged statesmen and brilliant commanders bent eagerly across the table to learn the character of the message thus strangely brought to its destination.
His majesty read the brief note aloud. It was received with a murmur, not entirely of satisfaction I was surprised to note.
Seeing that the Mikado made no remark, I ventured to say:
“I hope that the extreme character of the measures adopted by the Czar to assure your majesty of his peaceful sentiments will have the effect of convincing you that they are genuine.”
The Emperor of Japan glanced around his council board as if to satisfy himself that he and his advisers were of one mind before replying:
“I appreciate the zeal and the extraordinary skill with which you have carried out your mission. I regret that I cannot give you a favorable answer to take back to your nation.”
I was thunderstruck at this exordium. Slightly raising his voice, the Mikado went on:
“Tell the Emperor of Russia that I do not distrust his sincerity, but I distrust his power. The monarch who cannot send a letter through his dominions in safety; who has to resort to stratagems and precautions like these to overcome the opposition of his own subjects, is not the ruler of his empire.
“Why, sir, do you suppose that if I had a message to send to my brother in St. Petersburg I should have to stoop to arts like these? That any subject of mine would dare to plot against me, to seduce my messengers, to drug and rob them? Incredible! The tale you have told me completely confirms everything I and my advisers have already heard with regard to the Russian Government. It is a ship without a captain, on which the helm is fought for and seized by different hands in turn. To-day the real rulers of Russia are the men who are bent on war – and who, while we are talking, have actually begun the war!”
I gazed around the Council-Room, unable to believe my ears.
“Yes,” the stern sovereign continued, “while you, sir, were entering the Inland Sea, charged with this offer of peace” – his majesty tossed the precious piece of paper on the table with a look of disdain – “a Russian gunboat, the Korietz, was firing the first shot of the war at one of my squadrons off Chemulpo.”
The glances directed by those present at the naval officer behind the imperial chair convinced me that he had just brought the fatal news to the Council.
“And now,” added the Mikado, “I will give my reply to the real masters of Russia – to the directors of the Korietz.”
He nodded to the naval officer, who walked across the floor to a box on the wall like a telephone receiver, and pressed a button.
“That,” his majesty explained, “is the signal for a flotilla of torpedo boats to enter the harbor of Port Arthur and blow up the Russian fleet.”
I think a faint cry of remonstrance or misgiving must have escaped me. The Japanese monarch frowned, and his voice took a still sterner ring.
“Go back to your unfortunate master, and tell him that when he can send me a public envoy, in the light of day, to ask for peace, and to undertake the fulfilment of the pledges which his Ministers have broken, I will grant his request.”
CHAPTER XI
WHO SMOKED THE GREGORIDES BRAND
I left the presence of the Japanese Emperor deeply disheartened.
It is true I had myself foretold this failure, and that his Japanese majesty and his advisers had been good enough to compliment me in almost extravagant terms on the energy and resourcefulness I had shown in baffling the enemies of peace.
But I am unaccustomed to defeat, no matter what are the odds against me, and I felt that the first point in the game had been scored against by the formidable woman whose beauty and strangely composite character had fascinated me, even while I was countermining her.
For my work was not yet over. Indeed, it had but just begun.
I had not succeeded in averting war between the two great Powers of Asia. But I hoped to thwart the efforts which I feared would be made to extend the conflagration to Europe.
As soon as I had found myself once more on civilized ground, I had despatched a cable to my Paris office, announcing my whereabouts and asking for information.
The reader may be excused if he has forgotten a little episode which marked my stay in Petersburg. I had noticed something peculiar and at the same time familiar in the scent of the tobacco smoked by Petrovitch, the financial adventurer whose scheme to enrich himself and a corrupt clique of courtiers out of the spoils of Korea and China was the true cause of the war.
By a ruse I had secured one of the cigarettes, smoked by this dangerous plotter, and having ascertained that it bore the mark Gregorides, Crown Aa, had instructed my staff to ascertain the history of this particular make of cigarettes.
While I was resting in my hotel in Tokio, waiting for the reply to my cable, I was honored by a visit from no less a personage than Privy Councillor Katahashi, President of the Imperial Bank of Japan.
“I have come,” the Privy Councillor explained as soon as the door was closed, “to express the high sense of your ability and devotion which we all possess, and to ask if it is possible for Japan to secure your services.”
Deeply gratified by this proposal, I was obliged to explain that I was already retained in the interest of Russia.
“But what interest?” Mr. Katahashi persisted. “It is clear that you are not acting on behalf of that group which has just succeeded in its purpose of forcing a war.”
“That is so,” I admitted. “It is no breach of confidence – in fact, I serve my employers by assuring you that my efforts are directed toward peace.”
“In that case there can be no antagonism between us, surely. Is it not possible for you and me – I say nothing about our respective Governments – to co-operate for certain purposes?
“I know enough of the conditions which prevail in the Russian Court to feel pretty sure that it was not Nicholas II. who originally sought you out, and entrusted you with this mission,” the Japanese statesman added.
“At the close of the last war in this part of the world,” the Privy Councillor went on, “Japan was robbed of the fruit of her victories by an alliance of three Powers, Russia, Germany, and France. This time we know that England will support us against any such combination. Thanks to King Edward VII. we have nothing to fear. His diplomacy, moreover, has secured the powerful influence of France on the side of peace. Although nominally allied with the Czar, we know that the French Government is determined to limit the area of the war, and to take no part against us, except in one event.”
“You mean,” I put in, “in the event of an attack by England on Russia.”
“Exactly. And therefore we know that King Edward is making it his particular care that no cause of conflict shall arise.”
He paused, and glanced at me as though he considered that he had sufficiently indicated the source from which my instructions were received.
I contented myself with bowing.
“We know, also, that the most restless and ambitious of living monarchs has been bending his whole thoughts and schemes, ever since he ascended the throne, to one supreme end – the overthrow of the British Empire by a grand combination of all the other Powers of the world. If that monarch can force on a general strife in which England will be involved on the side of Japan, while practically every other European Power is leagued against her, M. Petrovitch and his timber concessions will have done their work.”
I drew a deep breath as I looked at the Japanese statesman with a questioning gaze.
As if in answer to my unspoken query, a waiter of the hotel knocked at the door in the same moment, and brought me the long-expected cable from my agent in Europe.
I tore it open and read:
Cigarettes Gregorides Crown Aa special brand manufactured to order of Marx, Berlin, tobacconist to German Emperor.
I looked up from reading the telegram to see the eyes of the Japanese Privy Councillor fixed upon me with the inscrutable, penetrating gaze of the Oriental.
“The message you have just received bears on the subject of our conversation, does it not?” he inquired, but in the tone of one who does not doubt what the answer will be.
With the caution which has become a habit with me, I read the cable through carefully for the second time, and then placed it on the fire, where it was instantly consumed.
The Japanese statesman smiled.
“You forget, I think, M. V – , that you have come here as the emissary of a sovereign with whom we are at war, and that, consequently, we cannot afford to respect your privacy.
“I have a copy in my pocket,” he went on urbanely. “You have felt some curiosity about a particular brand of cigarettes, and your friends have just informed you that they are those supplied to the German Emperor.”
I looked at Mr. Katahashi with new respect.
“Your secret service is well managed, sir,” I observed.
“Such a compliment from such a quarter is an ample reward for what little pains I may have taken.”
“Then it is you who are – ?”
“The organizer of our secret service during the war? – I am.”
“But you are a banker?” I turned my eyes to the card by which Mr. Katahashi had announced his visit.
The Japanese gave another of his subtle smiles – those peculiar smiles of the Oriental which make the keenest-witted man of the West feel that he is little better than a blunderer.
“I came here prepared to take you into my confidence,” he said gravely. “I am well aware that it is the only safe course in dealing with the Bismarck of underground diplomacy.
“I am equally well aware,” the Privy Councillor added, “that a secret confided to Monsieur V – is as safe as if it had been told in confidence to a priest of Buddha, for whom the penalty of betrayal is to be flayed alive.”
CHAPTER XII
THE SECRET SERVICE OF JAPAN
“Three years ago,” Mr. Katahashi proceeded, “when we first recognized that Japan would be obliged to fight Russia for her existence as a free and independent country, his imperial majesty the Mikado appointed me head of the intelligence department.
“I perceived that it would be necessary for me to establish centers in the chief European capitals, and to have at my command a corps of agents whose comings and goings would not attract the attention that is usually given to the movements of persons connected with the staff of an embassy.
“In our case precautions were necessary which would not have been recognized in the case of another country.
“On the one hand, our Government has laid to heart the profound advice of Herbert Spencer, that whatever is done for Japan should be done by Japanese.
“On the other hand, our people have characteristic racial features which make it practically impossible for a Japanese to disguise himself as a Western European, so as to deceive European eyes.
“It was therefore necessary to provide an excuse for distributing Japanese agents over the West without the true reason of their presence being known.
“I solved this problem by founding the Imperial Bank of Japan.”
“But, surely!” I exclaimed, “the Imperial Bank of Japan is a bona fide concern? Its shares are regularly quoted on the stock exchanges. It negotiates loans, and carries on the ordinary business of a bank?”
“Certainly. Why not? You forget that Japan is not a rich country. What we lack in gold, we are obliged to make up in ingenuity and devotion. Thanks to this idea of mine, the secret service of Japan pays for itself, and even earns a small profit.”
It gave me something like a cold shock to comprehend the character of this people whom the Russians had so recklessly provoked to draw the sword.
I thought of the intelligence departments of some Western Powers, of the rank corruption that reigned on the Neva, where every secret had its price; of the insane conceit of Berlin, which had forgotten nothing and learned nothing since the days of Moltke; of the luxurious laziness of Pall Mall, where superannuated soldiers dozed in front of their dusty pigeon-holes after apoplectic lunches, and exercised their wits chiefly in framing evasive answers suited to the intelligence of the House of Commons.
And beside these pictures I placed this of the prosperous commercial house, founded by the man before me, a man whose salary would probably be sniffed at by a deputy-assistant controller in the British War Office.
A bank, paying its way, and adding to the revenues of Japan, and yet every member of its staff a tireless spy, ready to go anywhere and risk everything on behalf of his native country!
Mr. Katahashi seemed to ignore the effect produced on my mind by his modest explanation.
“I have told you this,” he resumed, “because if I can succeed in satisfying you that we are both working for the same ends, or at least against the same enemy, I hope it will be agreeable to you to co-operate with me.”
I drew my brows together in anxious thought. In spite of the flattery and deference of the Privy Councillor I could not but feel that I should be the junior partner in any such combination as he proposed, or, rather, I should find myself an instrument in the hands of one whose methods were strange to me.
“Although his imperial majesty was not familiar with your name, you must not suppose that your reputation is not known in the right quarters. I have a very full report on your work in my office. I had intended from the first to engage your services if we required any Western aid; and, as a matter of fact, I was on the eve of sending you a retainer, when I heard I had been anticipated by – ”
“By Lord Bedale,” I put in swiftly.
“By Lord Bedale, certainly,” the Japanese acquiesced with a polite bow and smile.
“After your interview with him, I lost sight of you,” my extraordinary companion went on. “Your wonderful transformation into a Little Englander of the Peace-at-any-Price school threw my agents off the scent. But I heard of your interview with Nicholas II.”
“You did!”
Mr. Katahashi nodded.
“I recognized you in that transaction. I even guessed that you might make an attempt to carry through a message from the Czar. But, knowing the influences arrayed against you, I never expected you to succeed. Your appearance in our Council-Room was a triumph on which I congratulate you warmly.
“And now,” the Mikado’s Privy Councillor continued, “there remain two questions:
“Supposing you are satisfied that the real author of this war is not any one in Russia, but a certain monarch who smokes cigarettes made by the house of Gregorides —
“And that the same ambitious ruler is now weaving his snares to entangle Great Britain, in short your own employer, the – ”
“Marquis of Bedale,” I again slipped in.
Again the same polite but incredulous bow and smile from the Japanese statesman.
“Would you be willing to accept a retainer from us?”
I sat upright, frowning.
The somewhat haughty attitude of the Emperor of Japan still rankled within me.
“I will accept a retainer from his majesty the Mikado,” I announced stiffly. “From no one else.”
Mr. Katahashi looked thoughtful.
“I will see what can be done,” he murmured. “The second question – ”
There was a momentary hesitation in his manner.
“I have just spoken to you of the precept of the great English philosopher.”
“It was, if I remember rightly, that you should employ only Japanese in the service of Japan?”
The Privy Councillor bowed.
“Therefore, you will see, we are obliged to make a proposal which may seem to you unusual – perhaps unreasonable.”
“And this proposal is?” I asked, with undisguised curiosity.
“That you should become a Japanese.”
I threw myself back in my chair, amazed.
“Your Excellency, I am an American citizen.”
“So I have understood.”
“An American citizen is on a level with royalty.”
“That is admitted.”
“Even the Dowager Empress of China, when engaging me in her service, though she raised my ancestors to the rank of marquises, did not ask me to forego my citizenship of the United States.”
“That is not necessary,” the Privy Councillor protested.
“Explain yourself, if you will be so good.”
“A man may be an American citizen, although by birth he is a Frenchman, a German, or even a negro. You yourself are a Pole, I believe.”
I could only bow.
“Now I do not propose that you should relinquish your political allegiance, but only that you should exchange your Polish nationality for a Japanese one.”
“But how, sir?”
“It is very simple. By being adopted into a Japanese family.”
I sat and stared at the Japanese statesman, with his mask-like face and impenetrable eyes. I seemed to be in some strange dream.
Who shall judge the ways of the Asiatic! This daring organizer, a match for the most astute minds of the West, believed that he could only make sure of fidelity by persuading me to go through what seemed the comedy of a mock adoption, a ceremony like the blood brotherhood of an African tribe.
“And suppose I consent, into what family do you purpose to introduce me?”
The Privy Councillor’s look became positively affectionate as he responded:
“If you would honor me by becoming my kinsman?”
I rose to my feet, shaking my head slowly.
“I appreciate the compliment your Excellency pays me. But, as we have just now agreed, an American citizen has no equals except royalty. Let us return to the German Emperor and his designs. If I cannot serve you directly I may be able to do so indirectly.”
The Japanese made no attempt to press his proposal.
Instead he plunged into a discussion of the intrigues which radiated from Berlin.
“In nearly all the international difficulties and disagreements of the last twenty years,” he said, “it is possible to trace the evil influence of Germany.
“To German sympathy, a secret encouragement, was due the wanton invasion of Cape Colony by the Boers. To the Kaiser, and his promises of support, was due the hopeless defiance of the United States by Spain. The same Power tried to drag Great Britain into collision with your Republic over the miserable concerns of Venezuela. For years, Germany has been secretly egging on the French to raise troubles against the English in Egypt. In the same spirit, the Sultan has been abetted, first against England and next against Russia.
“All these schemes have been spoiled by the action of King Edward VII. in establishing cordial relations with France, and even to a certain extent with Russia.
“Now Wilhelm II. has taken advantage of the attraction of France to England, to draw nearer to Russia. He has secured in his interest some of the most influential personages at the Russian Court. The Anglophobe grand dukes, the fire-eaters of the Admiralty, are all his sworn allies.
“But that is not the worst.
“By some means which I have not yet been able to trace, the Kaiser seems to have acquired a peculiar hold over Nicholas II.
“The whole policy of Russia seems to be tinged by this influence. Even where the instigation of Germany is not directly apparent, yet in a hundred ways it is clear that the Russian Government is playing the German game. The cause of all this is a riddle, a riddle which it is for you to solve.”
“For me?”
The words escaped me involuntarily. I had listened with growing uneasiness to the Privy Councillor’s revelations.
“Undoubtedly. You have facilities which no one else possesses. You enjoy the confidence of the Czar. You cannot be suspected of any selfish designs, still less of any hostile feeling against Wilhelm II., who is understood to be almost your personal friend.”
“I never allow personal friendships to influence me in the discharge of my duty.”
“It is because I believe that, that I am talking to you like this,” Mr. Katahashi responded quickly.
“Well!” he added after a short silence, “what do you say?”
“I must have the night to decide.”
The Japanese Privy Councillor rose to say good-by.
After he had gone I sat up late into the night considering how far I could serve my employer in England by entering into the projects of the secret service of Japan.
In the morning, I was still undecided, but on the whole it seemed to me that it would be better to act independently.
I was considering how to convey this decision to the Mikado’s minister, when he again presented himself before me.
His manner was deeply agitated. It was evident that he came to make a communication of the highest importance.
Instead of taking the chair I offered him, he stood regarding me with an expression that seemed one of awe.
“Monsieur V – ,” he said at length, “your conditions are accepted by his imperial majesty.”
“What conditions?” I asked, bewildered for the moment.
“Last night you informed me that an American citizen occupied the same rank as royalty.”
“Well?”
“The Mikado offers to make you a member of the imperial family by adoption, and one of his majesty’s cousins has consented to make you his son!”