He beckoned with his finger and Jim and he left the room. I saw them drive away in a cab together, and sat in an agony of apprehension, not only that day but for the rest of the week. Then, one afternoon, Major Haynes strolled into my office. “Your friend, the general, has sailed,” he said, “and you will be pleased to learn that I took from him everything to which he was not entitled.” “The money?” I said eagerly. “The uniform,” said Major Haynes; “I think he was entitled to the money, don’t you? As a matter of fact,” he went on, “I will ease your mind about the money. That also was taken from him, and is now with the rest of the bank’s credits--in the hands of a British official.” I turned sick and faint. “You are thinking of your friend von Ritten,” smiled Haynes. “He also is in the hands of a British official!” CHAPTER IX. MR. COLLINGREY, M.P.--PACIFIST! I have often said that there is something grossly immoral about the profession of journalism. These men who live on the woes of others, who batten on the miseries of the world, must of necessity be dead to all kindly impulse and to the gentler emotions. They must be sceptical of all that is good, and have immeasurable faith in the wickedness of human nature. They must have neither reverence for the great ones of the earth nor charity for the sins of the weak. My experience of journalists and of English journalists particularly, had been with a Mister Haynes, who behaved with the greatest treachery toward me, insinuated himself into my office under false colours, for was he not an officer of the English Intelligence Department, and has he not, as I have reason to believe, the blood of two high-spirited German youths upon his gory hands? In the autumn of 1916, I learnt that Berlin was sending to me a Swedish gentleman named Heigl, and I was ordered to follow his instructions and to give him all the assistance which lay in my power. I have a constitutional objection to the intrusion of outsiders and more especially to amateur intelligence officers who, in my experience, have never failed to bungle any task to which they set their hands, so I cannot say that I viewed with any enthusiasm the coming of Mr. Heigl, fraught as it would be, and as I knew, with additional risks for myself and possibly the disorganization of the perfect system which I had with such labour established. Mr. Heigl proved to be a very pleasant gentleman, a merchant of Stockholm, a short man with an untidy grey beard, well dressed and having the appearance of prosperity. In fact, as I learnt, he was a gentleman of considerable wealth, and though not well born, even in a Swedish sense, he was a _persona grata_ with the leaders of the Conservative Party in Sweden and was frequently consulted by his Government on all matters affecting trade.