IN WHICH A SILVER STAR ACTS AS A CHARM
I have often in life that there are days when some to be one's every action. On such days, do what you will, you cannot go wrong. As the Berlin train over the the the tall, houses of Rotterdam and out into the plain of and beyond, I that this must be my good day, so had some my since I had left the café.
So had I been, indeed, in the great enterprise on which I was embarked, that my the had been mainly automatic. Yet how had they to protect me! I had my ticket in advance; I had my overcoat and to a that I now to have been my in disguise; I had from the station and thus him an opportunity for safe with me. The were good: I trust my luck to-day, I felt, and, comforted, I to look about me.
I myself, the only occupant, in a first-class carriage. On the window was a notice, in Dutch and German, to the that the was reserved. Suddenly I of my and overcoat. They were to be seen. After a little search I them the seat. In the overcoat pocket was a black tie.
I no time in taking the hint. If any of you who read this should one day notice a on the railway Rotterdam and Dordrecht the famous of a famous his you will how they got there. Then, out with the of my night, I into a slumber, my me, Semlin's overcoat about my knees.
I was of a from of guides, by Karl the waiter, when the of me to my senses. The train was speed. Outside the autumn sun was over of with heather. The next moment and I was we had to a at a very and station and the familiar of "Alles aussteigen!" in my ears.
We were in Germany.
The upon me like a thunderclap. I was in the enemy's country, under false colours, with only the most about the man place I had taken and no tale, such as I had to have ready, to me through the of the police.
What was my firm? The Halewright Manufacturing Company. What did we manufacture? I had not the idea. Why was I to Germany at all? Again I was at a loss.
The of iron-shod in the and an officer, closely by two privates, the white of the Landwehr in their helmets, at the door.
"Your papers, please," he said but politely.
I over my American passport.
"This has not been viséd," said the officer.
With a I that again I was at fault. Of course, the should have been at the German Consulate at Rotterdam.
"I had no time," I said boldly. "I am on most to Berlin. I only Rotterdam last night, after the Consulate was closed."
The to one of his guards.
"Take the to the Customs Hall," he said and on to the next carriage.
The soldier my overcoat and and me to him. Outside the was off. Everyone, I noticed, was into a long narrow pen with iron leading to a locked door over which was written: Zoll-Revision. I was going to take my place in the when the soldier me with his elbow. He me to a door which opened in the gaunt, Customs Hall with its long of for the of the passengers' luggage. In a a was a large group of officers and officials, all in the grey-green I so well from the life in the trenches. The to be an man, and fat, with a and great gold spectacles. He was in a loud, angry voice:
"He's not come! There you are! Again we shall have all the trouble for nothing!"
I he looked an bad-tempered and I prayed that I should not be him.
The doors were open. With a the was with a of people together and along a line of soldiers. For an hour or more reigned. Officials at the public: the place with the of angry altercation. After a one man, gesticulating, was away by two soldiers.
I saw such a in my life. People's were and every single object into and besnuffled. After the customs' were passed on to the searching-rooms, the men to one side, the to the other. I of a female at a door ... a and female who me of those at the in our early youth.
The official had into an office leading off the Customs Hall. He was, I surmised, the last instance, for passengers, a very old lady, were into the office and were no more.
During all this of no one had taken any notice of me. My looked in of him and said a word. When the was all but cleared, a man came to the office door and a to my sentinel.
At a table in the office which, despite the outside, was like a greenhouse, I the official. Something had him, for his were with anger and his mastiff-like were with irritation. He a hand out as I entered.
"Your papers!" he grunted.
I over my passport.
Directly he had it, a red spread over his and and he his hand on the table with a crash. The me perceptibly.
"It's not viséd," the official in a voice with anger. "It's worthless... what good do you think is this to me?"
"Excuse me ..." I said in German.
"I won't you," he roared. "Who are you? What do you want in Germany? You've been to London, I see by this passport."
"I had no time to my at the Consulate at Rotterdam," I said. "I there too late in the evening. I not wait. I am going to Berlin on most business."
"That's nothing to do with it," the man shouted. He was himself up into a frenzy. "Your is not in order. You're not a German. You're an American. We Germans know what to think of our American friends, those who come from London."
A voice shouted: "Nach Berlin einsteigen." I said as as I could, despite my annoyance:
"I don't wish to miss my train. My to Berlin is of the importance. I trust the train can be until I have satisfied you of my good faith. I have here a card from Herr Steinhardt."
I paused to let the name in. I was he must be a big of some in the German service.
"I don't a for Herr Steinhardt or Herr else," the German cried. Then he said to a him:
"Has he been searched?"
The a look at the sentry.
"No, Herr Major," said the secretary.
"Well, take him away and him and me anything you find!"
The on his like an automaton.
The moment had come to play my last card, I felt: I not being on the Stelze and his friends should catch up with me. I was to that they had not to have me stopped.
"One moment, Herr Major," I said.
"Take him away!" The man me aside.
"I you," I continued, "that I am on business. I can you of that, too. Only ..." and I looked the office. "All these must go."
To my the man's anger utterly. He hard at me, then took off his and them with his handkerchief. After this he said nonchalantly: "Everybody this gentleman!" The sentry, who had on his again, about to speak: his voice it came out of his mouth: he saluted, again and the out of the room.
When the place was I my left out of the of my and the star.
The man up.
"The Herr Doktor must me: I am overwhelmed: I had no idea that the Herr Doktor was not one of these American that are our country. The Herr Doktor will understand.... If the Herr Doktor had but said ..."
"Herr Major," I said, to put as much as I into my voice (that is what a German understands), "I am not in the of my to every I meet. Now I must go to the train."
"The Berlin train has gone, Herr Doktor, but..."
"The Berlin train gone?" I said. "But my no delay. I tell you I must be in Berlin to-night!"
"There is no question of your taking the ordinary train, Herr Doktor," the man smoothly, "but the special which I had for you has been countermanded. I you were not again."
A special? By Jove! I was a of note. But a special would do! Where the was it going to take me?
"The Berlin train was to have been until your special was clear," the Major on, "but we must stop her at Wesel until you have passed. I will to that at once!"
He gave some order the telephone and after a to me with a face:
"They will stop her at Wesel and the special will be in twenty-five minutes. But there is no hurry. You have an hour or more to spare. Might I offer the Herr Doktor a of and a sandwich at our officers' here?"
Well, I was in for it this time. A special me Heaven on unknown business...! Perhaps I might be able to a little out of my friend if I with him, so I his with condescension.
The Major himself for an and returned with my overcoat and bag.
"So!" he cried, "we can these here until we come back!" Behind him through the open door I saw a group of officials into the room. As we walked through their midst, they with precipitation. There was a positive about their manner which I puzzling.
A waggonette, by an orderly, in the station yard, one of the Customs officials, in hand, at the door. We through very spick-and-span to a little square where the at an iron gate the Officers' Club. In the four or five officers in field-grey were lounging. As we entered they to their and while the Major presented them, Hauptmann Pfahl, Oberleutnant Meyer ... a of names. One of the officers had an arm, another was very lame, the were dug-outs.
"An American gentleman, a good friend of ours," was the in which the Major me to the company. Again I myself by the of respect with which I was received. Germans don't like Americans, since they took to selling to the Allies, and I to think that all these officers must know more about me and my mission than I did myself. A orderly, white gloves, and some nasty-looking sandwiches which, on sampling, I to be of "war bread."
While the was being out I the room, and very furnished. Terrible chromo-lithographs of the Kaiser and the Crown Prince on the above a with trophies. With a at I other a with a and a British with a through the crown. Then I I was in the region of the VIIth Corps, which some of our on the Western front.
Conversation was and perfunctory.
"It is on occasions such as these," said the officer, "that one how our are helping the German cause."
"Your work must be interesting," one of the dug-outs.
"All your are now over," said the Major, much in the manner of the of a Greek play. "You will be in Berlin to-night, where your will be rewarded. American friends of Germany are not popular in London, I should imagine!"
I murmured: "Hardly."
"You must to have no suspicion," said the Major.
"That depends," I said.
"Pardon me," the Major, in I to all the of an gossip, "I know something of the of your mission. I speak ourselves, is it not so, gentlemen? There were special orders about you from the Corps Command at Münster. Your special has been waiting for you here for four days. The who came to meet you has been in a of expectation. He had already left the station this when ... when I met you, I sent word for him to you up here."
The plot was thickening. I most was a of note.
"What part of America do you come from, Mr. Semlin?" said a voice in perfect English from the corner. The one-armed officer was speaking.
"From Brooklyn," I said stoutly, though my to ice with the of my own tongue.
"You have no accent," the other suavely.
"Some Americans," I sententiously, "would that as a compliment. Not all Americans talk through their any more than we all or in public."
"I know," said the man. "I was up there!"
We were by faces. This officer who speak English was as a of a by his comrades. I the opportunity to give them in German a of my in to a man up in the United States that all Americans were not the in the European press.
There was a of from the room.
"Ach, Schmalz!" the Major, his in ecstasy. "Kolossal!" one of the dug-outs. The man and said it was "incredible how Schmalz be."
I had that the might now be on again in German. Nothing of the kind. The room in its chairs, as if the fun to go on.
It did.
"You your in London," the officer said.
He was a man, very from illness, with and a bright, eye—the of a fighter. His left was empty and was across his tunic, in a button-hole of which was the black and white of the Iron Cross.
"Generally," I answered shortly, "when I go to England. Clothes are in London."
"You must have a good ear for languages," Schmalz continued; "you speak German like a German and English ..." he paused appreciably, "... like an Englishman."
I nervous. This man took his off me: he had been at me since I had entered the room. His manner was perfectly and suave.
Still I my end up very creditably, I think.
"And not a accomplishment, either," I said, brightly, "if one has to visit London in war-time."
Schmalz with perfect courtesy. But he to at me. I scared.
"What is Schmalz about now?" said one of the dug-outs. I for the of the company. My résumé gave the dug-out who had spoken the opportunity for out on an about an he had on a at Brighton. The until the white-gloved came and that "a gentleman" was there, for the Herr Major.
"That'll be your man," the Major, starting up—I noticed he no attempt to the in. "Come, let us go to him!"
I up and took my leave. Schmalz came to the door of the with us.
"You are going to Berlin?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied.
"Where shall you be staying?" he asked again.
"Oh, at the Adlon!"
"I myself shall be in Berlin next week for my medical examination, and we may meet again. I should much like to talk more with you about America ... and London. We must have acquaintances."
I something about being only too glad, at the same time making a note to out of Berlin as soon as I could.
