As I expected, the bait took. Curiosity is the besetting weakness of a secret service officer, and the Berlin Director was no exception to the rule. Putting on his most confidential manner, he at once replied-- ‘My dear V----, if you and I do not trust each other, whom can we trust? Rest assured that my confidence in you has no reserves. I have spoken the bare truth in saying that the Kaiser has given me no indication of his object in sending for you. But the fact that he has ordered me to take these precautions to conceal the fact of your arrival in Berlin tells me plainly that there is a person whom he wishes to keep in ignorance; and that person can only be----’ ‘The Chancellor?’ I threw in, as my companion hesitated. Finkelstein nodded. ‘You consider, perhaps, that it is against the Chancellor that I am to be employed?’ I went on. ‘It looks like it,’ was the cautious answer. ‘And the reason why this task is not placed in your hands?’ ‘Is because I am a native of Hanover, and the Kaiser regards me rather as a public official than as a personal servant of his own dynasty,’ said Finkelstein. ‘In other words, he regards you as a creature of the Chancellor’s,’ I commented bluntly. The Director made a pleasing and ingenious attempt to blush. ‘I can only affirm to you, on my sacred word of honour, that his Majesty has no cause to trust me any less than if I were a Prussian,’ he declared. ‘And I shall take it as a personal kindness if you will endeavour to convince the Kaiser of my loyalty.’ ‘I will take care that he knows your sentiments,’ I answered, with an ambiguity which Finkelstein fortunately did not remark. By this time I had completed my transformation. A glance at the cheval glass showed me a stiff, well-set-up Prussian official, exhaling the very atmosphere of Junkerdom and sauerkraut. I gave the signal to depart, and we were quickly driving up the Unter den Linden on our way to the Imperial Palace. ‘Announce to his Majesty--the Herr Director Finkelstein and the Herr Inspector Vehm,’ my companion said to the doorkeeper. A servant, who had evidently received special instructions, stepped forward. ‘The Herr Inspector is to be taken to his Majesty at once,’ he said firmly. Finkelstein bit his lip as he unwillingly turned to re-enter his carriage. I followed the lackey into the private cabinet of the monarch who had just found himself the centre of an international cyclone. [Illustration: “A glance at the cheval glass showed me a stiff, well set-up Prussian official.”]