Graham Greene (18 page)

WILLIAM LE QUEUX

he outbreak is in full swing and our death-rate would sicken Napoleon … Dr M——died last week, and C——on Monday, but some more medicines are coming … We don't seem to be able to check it at all … Villages panicking badly … In some places not a living soul … But at any rate the experience gained may come in useful, so I am keeping my notes written up to date in case of accidents … Death is a queer chap to live with for steady company.”—
Extract from a private letter from Manchuria.
)

RUDYARD KIPLING

NOT KNOWN TO THE SECRET SERVICES

And many more Destructions played
In this ghastly masquerade,
All disguised, even to the eyes,
Like Bishops, lawyers, peers, or spies.

PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY

I

rince and Princess Oscar received their distinguished guests with a show of pleasure that did credit to their powers of dissimulation … That the
raison d'être
of the visit was not for a moment to be lost sight of was made plain when, after dinner, the Chancellor and chief officers retired into the selected apartment for the first discussion of the subject that had necessitated the meeting. And with them went Prince Oscar.

From that time on, for three or four days, the young Prince became more and more reserved in his manner, and the Princess, quick in perception, taxed him with holding some unwholesome secret and pressed him to make her his confidante. Alas! he could but reply that such things as his father's representatives and he discussed in private were not for women's ears; but her loving heart guessed well that the matter touched her more nearly, as an Englishwoman, than they would have cared to confess.

One day, as she was passing the door of the conference chamber, it was flung open and a naval captain, acting as secretary,
came out. Through the open door a loud voice, raised in anger, sounded:

“…  not to give England any warning? I call it …” and the door closed again, shutting from her ears the closing words of her husband; for she had recognised his voice, speaking in evident protest—against what or whom she could only guess.

From that hour she ceased worrying her husband, knowing full well that his honour depended on the maintenance of silence as regards the secret locked in his breast.

But one idea possessed her soul to the exclusion of all other thoughts—she must warn England, her England, that danger, some inconceivable, awful danger, threatened the British Empire.

All that was English in her rose up in revolt against the treachery she could not but impute to the Imperial Chancellor, and though desirous of avoiding any active part in international politics, recognising the folly of such interference from one in her position, the thought that her native land might be devastated by the underhand designs and specious cunning of her adopted country, made it essential that she should in some way warn it of its danger.

Calmer consideration caused her to realise how slight was the evidence upon which she based her fears. She herself might feel convinced that treachery was intended—but would hard-headed, commonsense Englishmen credit it? Impossible—she felt it to be impossible—but beneath this feeling lay that subtle womanly instinct which spelt danger clearer than written words.

She would try to learn more!

She, a Princess of Royal Blood, to spy? For a moment the very idea stupefied her, appalled her inborn sense of honour. Yet, were they honourable in their designs? Surely if they were plotting to bring about the downfall of her dear native land, she
would be justified in the use of any means whatsoever to circumvent them.…

II

There was more than the usual excitement amongst the passengers aboard the Belgian packet
Marie Henriette
as she sped at nearly twenty-two knots across the Channel on the morning of June 7th,—as bright a Monday as had ever initiated a fresh week. Princess Alexandra was with them, on her first visit to England since her marriage, and locked in her bosom lay the most terrible secret ever held by woman.

Outwardly calm, she rated the speed of the vessel as sluggish and looked anxiously ahead at the rising land, longing with an inexpressible longing to be once more on English soil—and, above all things, to see her august uncle and unburden herself to him, for to him alone would she speak.

Little she attended the unctuous reception by an adoring people, little she noticed the fulsome compliments of the local Mayor who, berobed and chained, offered her a hearty welcome in the nation's name. She was all for pushing on and had no relief even when, on the arrival of her train in London, her mother held her clasped tightly and lovingly to her breast.

“My darling child, thank Heaven for this great joy! Tell me, how has it been with you since you left; how is dear Oscar, and why this hasty decision to visit us?”

“Mother, oh, Mother! Take me to my uncle the King—do, do—if you love me, take me to him!” were her answering words, and her astonished mother stood back aghast, wondering whether anything could have unhinged the fresh young mind.

“But, Xandra, you cannot mean it! He is presiding at a banquet
at Buckingham Palace and to have an immediate audience of him is quite out of the question. Compose yourself, my daughter, and tell me of your trouble.”

“Don't put me off, Mother,” she cried imploringly. “It is a matter for the King's ear only. Oh! Major Vere,” she continued, turning to an equerry, “cannot you see I am in earnest? Believe me, the safety of England depends upon it and I dare not tell my secret to any but the King.”

And so strongly did she plead and so sanely, that at last a motor was ordered and she and her mother driven off to the Palace.

But the Goddess of Chance was fighting against England that day.

Down the great length of Pall Mall dashed the car, sharply spinning round past Marlborough House—then away on the last short stretch towards the Palace. When not forty yards remained to be covered, a loud report rang out and the motor swerved giddily to the left and collided with great violence with an electric arc-standard.

A tyre had burst and taken the chauffeur utterly by surprise.

From all sides people came to render aid and willing hands lifted a fair young form tenderly from the ground and bore it gently to the Palace. The Duchess was merely badly shaken and walked, as in a dream, after her senseless daughter, leaving the injured chauffeur to the good services of the police.…

Placed on a downy bed, amid surroundings of the greatest luxury lay the sole means of warning England of such danger as she had never, until then, been called upon to face.

Hurried messengers had motored hot-haste to the Court Physicians and soon three kindly faced men stood in consultation over the girl's apparently inanimate body.…

For long hours they watched thus and as each hour chimed from some near spire the anxiety deepened on the set face of the doctor, who kept a lonely vigil, holding his patient's hand
between his own.… Into the early hours of the next morning he watched and watched, and prayed too, but never a sign was vouchsafed him. At last, when hope had sunk to zero and he had almost given way to despair, a slight, almost inaudible sigh from the bed sent the blood tingling through his veins. He touched a button at his side and a muffled bell clicked once; a uniformed nurse crept in and approached him, and after a whispered word or two left the room as softly as she had entered.

Ten minutes elapsed and the door again opened. The Duchess entered, clad in a hastily donned tea-gown; behind her strode a fine, manly figure, bearded of feature yet regal in bearing and carriage. The doctor leapt instantly to his feet.

It was His Majesty the King!

“Well, Sir Arthur, how is our little patient progressing?” he whispered, as the great specialist moved to meet him.

“She is coming round fast, your Majesty, and as she had, I am told, been asking for you immediately prior to the accident, it is not unlikely the line of thought will follow in direct sequence and her first desire will be for you, sire. Therefore I dared to have you roused, and crave your forgiveness if I have done wrong.”