I drew the letter from the envelope and scanned it rapidly.
What I read caused me to hold my breath. The signature to the letters was "Enid von Leutenberg."
Those letters of hers had, it was plain, been seized in the post on their way to London. The Countess either had a traitor in her household or secret watch was being kept by the Secret Service upon her correspondence.
All three of those letters I read – letters which opened my eyes and broadened my mind. Then, taking up my bundle of reports, I crept away from the room, carefully re-latching the door. I intended that his Highness should return, discover the letters left there inadvertently, and put them away ere my arrival, in which case he would never suspect that I had any knowledge of their contents.
With the papers in my hand I passed along the many carpeted corridors to the south wing of the Palace, where I found Tresternitz, Marshal of the Prince's Court, in his room.
The Crown-Prince imitated his father's sharp punctuality, therefore I knew that he would be there at seven or soon afterwards.
Tresternitz was always full of scandal concerning those who lived in the higher circles of Berlin, and it was to one of these stories of Court scandal concerning one of the ladies-in-waiting which I listened while I smoked one of his excellent Russian cigarettes.
Then, glancing at the clock, I rose suddenly and left him, returning again to the private room.
I found his Highness there, and as I entered I noticed that he had hidden those remarkable letters which he had in secret shown to Count Zeppelin.
A fortnight went past. The Kaiser, with his mad love of constant travel, had been rushing up and down the Empire – to Krupp's at Essen, to the trials of a newly-invented howitzer, thence to an inspection at Kassel, and afterwards to unveil monuments at Cologne and at Erfurt. The Crown-Prince and Princess had accompanied him, the Kaiserin being indisposed, and I, of course, had been included in "Willie's" suite.
The week had been a strenuous one of train-travel, luncheons, tiring dinners, receptions, dancing, and general junketings, and I was glad enough to get back to my bachelor rooms – those rooms in the Krausenstrasse that you knew so well before the bursting of the war-cloud. To dance attendance upon an Imperial Crown-Prince, as well as upon an autocratic Emperor, becomes after a time a wearisome business, however gay and cosmopolitan a man may be.
I had only been at home a few hours when a telephone message summoned me at five o'clock to the Crown-Prince's Palace.
His Imperial Highness, who had, I knew, been lunching with the Emperor at the Königliches Schloss across the bridge, seemed unusually serious and thoughtful. Perhaps the Emperor had again shown his anger at his peccadilloes, as he did so frequently.
"Count," he said, after a few seconds of silence, during which I noted that upon his table lay a private letter from the German Ambassador in London. "You will recall my conversation regarding the Countess von Leutenberg – eh?"
"Perfectly," was my reply.
"I told you that I should require you to introduce me," he said. "Well, I want you to do so this evening. She has taken a box at the Königliche Opera to-night, where they are to play Falstaff. I shall be there, and you will be with me. Then you will introduce me to your pretty friend. Understand?" And he grinned.
That night, in accordance with my instructions, I sat in the Emperor's box with the Crown-Prince, Tresternitz, and two personal-adjutants, and, recognizing the Countess von Leutenberg in a box opposite, accompanied by an elderly lady, I took the Crown-Prince round, and there presented her to him, greatly to her surprise and undisguised delight.
The Prince and the Countess chatted together, while I sat with her elderly companion. Then, when we had withdrawn, my Imperial Master exclaimed:
"Ah! my dear Heltzendorff. Why, she is one of the prettiest women in all Berlin! Surely it is unfortunate – most unfortunate."
What was unfortunate? I was further puzzled by that last sentence, yet I dare not ask any explanation, and we went back to our own box.
After our return to the Palace the Crown-Prince, who was standing in one of the corridors talking with the slim, fair-haired Baroness von Wedel, one of his wife's ladies-in-waiting, left her and beckoned me into an adjoining room.
"I wish you, Heltzendorff, to call upon the Countess von Leutenberg at nine o'clock to-morrow evening. She will expect you."
I looked at his Highness, much puzzled. How did he know that the pretty Countess would expect me?
But he gave me no time to reply, merely turning upon his heel, and striding down the corridor to the private apartments.
Punctually at nine o'clock that wintry evening I called at the Lennestrasse, but Josef, the elderly manservant, informed me that his mistress was engaged, adding that His Imperial Highness the Crown-Prince had paid a surprise call.
"The Crown-Prince here!" I gasped, astounded.
"Yes, Count. And, further, my mistress is in high glee, for my master returned this morning quite unexpectedly from London. He has been out at the Ministry for Foreign Affairs all the evening, and I expect him home at any moment. The Crown-Prince ordered me to ask you to await him here."
Count von Leutenberg in Berlin! What did it mean? He was absurdly jealous, I recollected. He might return at any moment and find the Crown-Prince alone in the Countess's drawing-room. If so, the situation might certainly be a most unpleasant one.
Hardly had the thought crossed my mind when I heard the Count enter, his spurs clinking and his sabre rattling as he strode up the stairs.
I crept forth, listening breathlessly.
A few seconds later I heard the Count's voice raised in anger and high, bitter words. Next moment I sprang up the stairs and, dashing into the room, found the pretty Countess standing near the window, white and rigid as a statue, while the two men in uniform faced each other. Von Leutenberg's countenance was distorted with rage as he abused the Crown-Prince, and openly charged him with having brought about his exile to London.
His Highness made no reply, but only smiled sarcastically and shrugged his narrow shoulders.
So enraged the other became at this latter gesture that, with a sudden movement, he drew his sword.
The Countess shrieked and swooned as I sprang forward and stayed her husband's hand.
It was a dramatic moment. The Count instantly realized the enormity of his crime, and his hand dropped.
"Enough!" cried the Crown-Prince, waving his adversary aside. Then, turning to me, he said in a calm, hard voice:
"Heltzendorff, you are witness that this man has drawn his sword upon the heir to the Throne."
And with those haughty words he bowed stiffly and strode out of the room.
Two hours later I was commanded to the Kaiser's presence, and found him in counsel with his son.
The Emperor, who wore the uniform of the Guards, looked pale and troubled, yet in his eyes there was a keen, determined look. As I passed the sentries and entered the lofty study, with its upholstery and walls of pale green damask – that room from which the Empire and the whole world have so often been addressed – the Kaiser broke off short in his conversation.
Turning to me as he still sat at his littered table, he said in that quick, impetuous way of his:
"Count Heltzendorff, the Crown-Prince has