Wallace Intervenes (4 page)

It was a much happier young man who returned to the house than he who had left it. All the guests were gone, and only a few servants were about. They viewed Foster’s appearance with a good deal of surprise, but, yawning prodigiously and murmuring to the
butler that he must have fallen asleep in the garden, the Secret Service agent departed, found his car, and drove to Sir Leonard Wallace’s residence in Piccadilly. He was shown at once to the cosy study which the chief designated as his den. There he found both Sir Leonard and Major Brien awaiting him. They greeted him with friendly smiles, and he was told to mix himself a drink, and sit down.

‘Did you succeed in obtaining a view of the fellow?’ asked Wallace.

‘Yes, sir,’ replied Foster.

He proceeded to give a description of the German, but was cut short.

‘I also saw him and the woman,’ explained Sir Leonard. He smiled at the look of surprise on the young man’s face. ‘I watched you and the baroness go to that delightfully secluded spot among the rhododendrons,’ he went on, ‘and witnessed the arrival of the woman. When you and the baroness returned to the house, I followed the maid. Close to it she met the man who had apparently been in hiding there. He accosted her, and they returned to the arbour. I had the satisfaction of listening to their conversation from the beginning. As the woman repeated your discussion with the baroness practically word for word, I was able to assure myself that nothing was said of a nature dangerous either for you or for Sophie von Reudath.’

Foster felt rather puny somehow as he listened with wide-open eyes – and ears – to the chief’s recital.

‘Did you know I was there, sir?’ he asked.

‘I saw you arrive,’ nodded Wallace, and again the young man felt very small. It had never occurred to him that another person might have been listening to the conversation he had overheard.
‘Don’t look so dismayed!’ smiled Sir Leonard. ‘I took good care that nobody would see me. If you had searched you would not have discovered me. You have done very well, Foster; very well indeed. All I wish to urge upon you is not to act on impulse in the future. “Look before you leap” is a pretty good maxim for a young Secret Service man.’

Foster felt grateful for the kindly words. Nevertheless, he still considered that he had made rather a bad mess of things that night. If the chief and Major Brien had not been present at the reception he was rather of the opinion that he would have made a complete muddle of the whole affair. Sir Leonard realised how he was feeling, but added nothing further by way of comfort. He was well satisfied that his junior would be all the better for the chastening effects that a little harmless blunder or two would have upon him. Better for him to make a small error at the commencement of his career, when he was under supervision and could benefit from it, than a tragic mistake later on when he was working entirely on his own.

‘We have been discussing,’ resumed Wallace, ‘whether it would be wise to inform the baroness that her actions are being spied upon. On the whole I am inclined to refrain from giving her warning. Knowledge of that sort might quite well render her so indignant that a breach might take place between her and von Strom. In that event she herself would probably suffer severely and, at the same time, we should not be able to obtain all the information we desire from her, for though it is plain she must know a good deal, I don’t think she is aware of everything – yet. Keeping her in the dark about the man and woman spying on her means that an extra duty devolves on you, Foster. Not only must you do your utmost to discover what she knows, but you must
protect her from these people, and prevent any suspicions rising in their minds against her. I was delighted to find that you got on so very well with her.’ He smiled. ‘Not a difficult matter to become infatuated with a woman like that, is it, Foster?’

‘It would be difficult not to, sir,’ returned the young man frankly, adding a little diffidently: ‘I believe she is absolutely straight, sir, and not at all the kind to betray a secret confided to her.’

‘I agree with you, absolutely.’ nodded Sir Leonard. ‘I took the opportunity of studying her, and am quite convinced that mentally and morally she is as beautiful as she is physically. That renders your job a hundred times more difficult – and more distasteful, too, I’ve no doubt. But it is your job, and you must allow no other considerations but that fact to creep into your mind. I believe you are calling on her tomorrow?’

‘Yes, sir. At four o’clock. She suggested the time herself.’

‘Excellent. She obviously likes you, which is the main thing. Next week she goes to Budapest. When she informs you, beg her to allow you to accompany her. By then you must appear hopelessly in love with her. We’ll hope she will have fallen in love with you.’

Foster looked down at the carpet rather miserably.

‘It – it seems so horribly low-down, sir,’ he murmured.

Sir Leonard rose and patted him on the shoulder.

‘It is,’ he agreed, ‘but it’s all part of the price you and I, and all of us, have to pay for the privilege of serving our country. You don’t want to back out, do you?’

‘Back out!’ exclaimed Foster, looking up hastily. ‘Never!’

‘Of course you don’t. I have a feeling that when the show is over you won’t find that it has been so distasteful after all.’

‘You mean—’

‘I mean nothing – just yet. Now run along, and don’t lose sight
of the fact that you have two spies to keep your eye on and prevent from suspecting either the baroness or yourself.’

‘What about Mrs Manvers-Buller?’ queried Brien. ‘Didn’t those people speak of her as a dangerous woman?’

‘The man certainly did.’

‘In that case, she had better be warned, hadn’t she?’

Sir Leonard smiled broadly.

‘Leave her to me, Bill,’ he suggested. ‘I’ll take care of her, while the baroness is in London anyway. Later on she’ll have someone else to take care of her – though she’s perfectly capable of taking care of herself.’

‘What do you mean by someone else taking care of her?’ demanded Brien.

‘Haven’t you heard? This evening she accepted the hand and heart of Major Protheroe of the Horse Guards.’

‘Good Lord!’ exclaimed Foster involuntarily.

‘Bully for her!’ cried Brien with enthusiastic cordiality.

Promptly at four on the following afternoon, Foster presented himself at the Carlton Hotel and asked for the Baroness von Reudath. He was shown up to her suite; found her awaiting him in a drawing room that was a mass of blooms. Standing in the midst of all those beautiful flowers, wearing a frock of some clinging material that showed off her slender form to perfection, the young Englishman decided that she looked more wonderful than ever. His eyes frankly shone with admiration, and the colour stole softly into her cheeks. She greeted him with outstretched hands, over which he bowed almost reverently.

‘You see, my friend,' she declared, ‘I am alone. I have kept one hour entirely for you.'

‘I don't know what I have done to deserve such an honour,' he murmured, ‘but I very much appreciate it. It is charming of you.'

‘In you I know I have found a real friend,' she told him seriously,
‘and genuine friends are very, very precious in this world. I have so many acquaintances, so many people who pretend they are friends, but who, I know, are not. I need someone very badly upon whom I can rely, Mr Foster.'

‘You can always rely upon me, Baroness,' he assured her. He felt guilty, as he spoke, but, though it was his duty to learn from her the secrets she possessed, and impart them to his government, he, nevertheless, was quite determined that he would prove a very true friend to her in all other ways. That reflection did not go far towards salving his conscience, but it was, at least, soothing. ‘I feel very proud and gratified,' he added, ‘that you have singled me out as a friend, especially after such short acquaintance.'

She sank into a chair, and invited him to take another close to her own.

‘Perhaps I am a very good judge of character,' she remarked, ‘perhaps it is that Elsa told me so much about you.'

‘Told you so much – about me!' he gasped. He was startled, apprehensive for a moment that Mrs Manvers-Buller had given him away. Then he laughed. Such an idea was, of course, absurd. ‘I hope she told you nothing to my discredit,' he added in an effort to cover his momentary confusion.

She eyed him questioningly for a second or two; then she, too, laughed.

‘I do not believe there is anything to your discredit in your life,' she pronounced, ‘unless it is that you are not proud that you are susceptible to feminine attraction.'

‘Did Elsa tell you that?' he demanded.

The baroness nodded, smiling a trifle mockingly at him the while.

‘It is surely nothing of which to be ashamed. I think there must
be something wrong about a man who is not impressionable. It is in our natures, is it not? But I know that one day to you will come the real thing; then you will love with all your soul, and for always. How you will love!' she added almost in a whisper. Then again she laughed up at him. ‘How foolish you will think me! We will have tea.'

She rang a bell and, almost immediately, a waiter wheeled a little trolley into the room with the tea things. They spoke of casual matters until they were alone again; then she reverted to her first topic.

‘I was wrong to give you the impression, Mr Foster, that I was entirely without friends. I have three, and they are very dear to me, but they are women. Elsa is one – unfortunately I do not see much of her these days – then there are two charming girls, Rosemary Meredith and Dora Reinwald, who act as my companions. Rosemary was at school with me, Dora I have known nearly all my life. I know they would do anything for me. But as I say, they are women. There are so many things a woman cannot do. I have no real man friend, one in whom I can put absolute trust. That is why,' she added candidly, ‘I am glad that in you I have, at last, found one. You see, I know it, without asking you. One does know these things. Is that my woman's instinct, I wonder!'

‘Your instinct has not played you false,' he murmured, ‘but you talk as though you are in danger, or, at least, in trouble. Is it so?'

She laughed almost harshly.

‘I am in deadly danger,' she declared, looking him full in the eyes. ‘Sometimes I am afraid, but not often. I am not quite sure what it is I fear.'

At once he had moved his chair closer to hers.

‘Tell me what it is,' he urged earnestly, ‘and I swear to you, Baroness, I will do my utmost to protect you.'

She leant across and gently took his hand in hers.

‘There are things,' she told him, ‘of which I cannot speak – at least not yet. Perhaps someday I will tell you. I am happy to receive your assurance that you will protect me if the necessity arises. I fear that I am only a very cowardly woman after all, and I had thought that I was different from the rest. It is very comforting to know that I have now a protector in the real sense. Since my husband died, there has been no man to whom I could turn for advice and assistance. I am afraid poor Kurt was not of much use. He was thirty years older than I, and rather self-centred. Ours was not exactly a love match, but he was my husband. Since his death, there has been no man in my life at all.'

A wave of sheer relief and delight flowed through Foster. No man in her life at all! Then his fears were groundless – the fears that had entered his heart as a result of the conversation he had overheard the night before. The Supreme Marshal of State might be in love with her, but he was not her lover. It did not enter his head to doubt, for a moment, her words. She might be a very clever woman, experienced in international intrigue, and playing a part in the political world, but she was frank and honest. Of that he was absolutely certain. She could have no possible object in asking for his friendship, except the very natural one of a woman in trouble desiring the support and protection of a man on whom she felt she could rely.

‘I cannot tell you,' he proclaimed, ‘how glad I am that you have chosen me as your friend. You will never regret it, Baroness – at least, I hope you will not,' he added as an afterthought, his profession and his duty flashing into his mind with uncomfortable emphasis at that moment.

‘Regret it!' she echoed. ‘Of course I shall not. I confided in Elsa how badly I needed a friend. I am indebted to her for bringing you to me.'

Inwardly Foster felt inclined to curse Elsa, but decided at once that his feelings were unjustified. Surely he could be a real friend to the baroness and, at the same time, do the job that had been set him. Would he, after all, be betraying her, if he learnt from her the secrets she possessed and imparted them to his chief? In that way he would perhaps be helping to prevent another ghastly war, and she herself had declared to him that she was against war, asserting that another would be too terrible to contemplate. Foster suddenly felt that he was beginning to see daylight. It was conceivable that the plans of the Supreme Marshal had been told to her; that she had declared herself against them and, though too staunch to divulge them, was now in danger, because the man who was reported to be her lover feared that she might. That would explain why she was being watched. The reflection made him feel a great deal happier in his mind; he was perhaps not such a Judas after all. He decided to attempt to find out, if he could, what relationship, if any, actually existed between her and the Supreme Marshal.

‘You have a friend – a man friend,' he remarked quietly, ‘who is also extremely powerful. Have you forgotten him?'

She eyed him questioningly, her brows meeting together in a little frown.

‘To whom do you refer?' she asked.

‘The Supreme Marshal of State! Did you not admit that he was a friend of yours?'

He was astonished at the expression which, for a moment, transformed her face. It was gone almost as soon as it had come, but he was watching her closely. It suggested hatred, naked,
uncompromising. What had caused it he was unable to decide at that moment, and whether it was directed against von Strom or himself. He could not conceive any reason why she should hate him, unless, by some means, she had discovered the part he was playing; neither could he imagine why she should hate the man who, though he might not be her lover, was certainly on intimate terms with her. The look made him think deeply. He wondered if again he had been implusive by accepting her at his own valuation of her. Suddenly she laughed, with all the silvery cadence which was able to thrill him so deeply with its music, but he was now on his guard more, and thought he detected a strained note in it.

‘He is not a friend of the kind I need – like you, my friend,' she told him. ‘Perhaps you also have believed the tales which have been told about him and me.'

‘What tales?' he asked innocently.

‘I know it has been said by evil-minded people that we are lovers; that I am his mistress.' Suddenly tears sprang to her beautiful eyes. ‘It is untrue,' she cried vehemently, ‘utterly untrue. Never was anything more wicked concocted in the minds of jealous people. I have not cared much before that such things have been stated, but I cannot bear that you should believe them. You do not, do you?'

She looked at him imploringly, all at once very much of a young, appealing girl. He marvelled at the mood which could so quickly transform her. His frank, open smile did a lot in helping her to recover full control of herself.

‘I am inclined,' he chided, ‘to feel insulted at your asking such a question of me, Baroness. Of course I do not believe such tales. I would never believe anything like that of you unless—' he hesitated.

‘Unless what?' she demanded quickly.

‘Unless you assured me they were true yourself.'

‘You would believe me?'

He nodded.

‘Yes; I would believe you, because I do not think you would ever tell me an untruth.'

The clouds cleared entirely away; she smiled at him now quite merrily.

‘You are very trusting, are you not?'

‘I trust you,' he responded earnestly.

Her pale, creamy complexion became suddenly suffused with colour.

‘Oh, dear!' she cried. ‘You and I have become all at once very intimate in our conversation. How surprised other people would be who knew that yesterday you and I met for the first time.'

‘That is the value of friendship – a real, genuine friendship,' he reminded her.

‘You are right. It is because of our friendship also that I did not wish you to think evil of me. The opinions of others I do not mind, but the good opinion of the very dear friend I have found means so much to me.'

‘Thank you, Baroness,' he murmured gently.

‘To you, I cannot be “Baroness”,' she proclaimed. ‘It would be ridiculous. You shall call me Sophie, and I will call you Bernard.'

‘How did you know my name?' he queried curiously.

‘Ah!' she laughed. ‘How do I know so many things about you? A little bird with the name of Elsa whispered to me so much, Bernard.'

‘The Elsa bird seems to have been very busy,' he grunted.

She helped herself to a cigarette, and pushed the large silver box towards him.

‘I think I already owe a great deal to her. Yet what is the use?' she suddenly cried in vehement tones. ‘It is wonderful to have your friendship, to know that I can depend upon your protection. But what use can it be to me?'

‘Why not?' he asked in profound surprise.

‘I am only in this country for a few days. Next week I go to Budapest, afterwards to Berlin again. How can your friendship help me when I am no longer in London.'

‘I shall no longer be in London myself,' he told her quietly. ‘Wherever you go, I will follow. I shall always be at hand – at least, while danger threatens you.'

Her eyes opened wide. In them he was certain he recognised dawning hope.

‘Do you really mean that?' she asked.

‘I certainly do, Sophie.'

There was a little caressing note in his pronunciation of her name for the first time. She noticed it, and again the colour stole into her cheeks.

‘But this is too good – too wonderful of you!' she exclaimed. Once more, however, her manner changed. She shook her head peremptorily. ‘It cannot be,' she declared almost sharply. ‘You must not come.'

‘Why not?'

‘Because you would be endangered. No, Bernard, you must keep away.'

He laughed.

‘Do you think,' he asked, ‘that I would stay back, because I might otherwise go into danger? Can't you think that I would account any danger that might threaten me through you as nothing, so long as I were at hand to protect you?'

She regarded him for a moment, a look of tenderness in her eyes.

‘Why do you feel like that about me?' she asked softly.

He looked down at the carpet under his feet; felt his own face grow hot and flushed.

‘Please do not ask me, Sophie,' he murmured. ‘I might say something foolish.'

For several moments there was a profound silence in the room. The tick of the clock on the mantelpiece seemed to grow incredibly loud. He looked up to find her eyes fixed on him with such a look of tender yearning in them that he was startled. He half rose; then threw himself back in his chair.

‘To think,' he heard her say gently, ‘that twenty-four hours ago you and I did not know each other. It seems impossible.'

‘It is impossible,' he retorted, and was astonished to find how husky his voice had become. ‘I believe you and I, Sophie, have been friends since the beginning of time. We have only just discovered it, that's all.'

‘What a very nice thought! I think perhaps you are right.' The determination returned to her manner and voice. ‘Nevertheless,' she persisted, ‘you must not go with me to Berlin.'

‘That's a pity,' he returned easily. ‘I should much have preferred to travel with you. However, if you forbid it, I shall have to follow.'

‘You are determined?'

‘Absolutely.'

‘You are a much more resolute person that I first imagined,' she declared with a little smile.