Chapter VII. The Kaiser Prevents a War It was Kaiser weather in Germany. Back from a five months' trip to the Far East, Berlin seemed to me like Heaven. I had finished a secret diplomatic mission for the Kaiser and as a result my pocketbook was full. Days and days in the Orient make a man try to crowd into the first twenty-four hours home, all the enjoyments that his city offers. Accordingly, with money running through my fingers like sand, I planned a long ride in the Grunewald; I saw myself ordering the few special dishes one gets at Kempinsky's; I would buy a good seat at the Metropole and to wind up I would look in at the Admiral's Palace when the performers were mingling in the audience. It being my first day back in Berlin, that programme appealed to me a lot more than did the European diplomatic tangle. I had been idling the early afternoon hours at the Café Bauer, Unter den Linden, but my programme for the rest of the day finally chosen, I got up, paid my bill and strolled home. My boy Kim must have been on the lookout for me; before I could use my key the door flew open. "Master!" he exclaimed in his heavy, jerky voice. "You are wanted on the telephone." I had an uneasy suspicion of what that meant, which was confirmed when my boy added, "Number A 11 wants you." Bismillah! That settled it! That ended my Grunewald, Kempinsky's, the Metropole, the Admiral's Palace. It meant the highway away. It always means that when a man of my position is in Berlin and somebody says to call up that number, A 11. Whenever A 11 summons it is wise to be prompt. It is the number of the Wilhelmstrasse, the foreign office of Germany. I lost no time in getting a connection and I was told to report at the Wilhelmstrasse at 10.30 that night. I was to hold myself ready for instant service. I must come prepared possibly for a long journey. I gave orders for my boy to have me dressed by ten o'clock. I decided to take a nap, for I knew that midnight interviews with the gentleman at the Wilhelmstrasse often led to some mighty unexpected and protracted traveling. Before going to sleep, however, I went over the European situation. What had loomed big? I hoped it was something big, for while a Secret Service agent doesn't get blasé, he likes to work when thrones or the boundaries of empires are involved.