“But the thing that has interested me in your case from the first,”
he continued with a return of his mastodonic playfulness, “and indeed
still continues to interest me, is why you should choose to return to
Germany when you knew that you were under suspicion. Surely you did not
come here to pick cowslips in March? Come now, I could have you shot
this afternoon if I chose. Tell me the truth and I will promise to
postpone the affair until tomorrow.”
Hammersley studied the pattern in the rug thoughtfully for a moment,
and at last he straightened and shrugged again.
“I don’t suppose there is any use playing the game further. Since I am
to go, it doesn’t matter if I tell you. I have planned for some time to
be able to get plans of the recent additions to the fortifications of
Strassburg.”
“_Ach, so._ Strassburg! And what, may I ask, were to be your means of
procuring them?”
“That, of course, since my utility has ceased, cannot possibly be of
interest to you.”
Von Stromberg studied him narrowly for a long moment and then wagged
his head sagely. It was an unnecessary suspicion that he had cherished.
This had been a case with interesting aspects, but after all it was
not much out of the usual way. An English spy betrayed by the simplest
of tricks upon the credulity and affection of a woman. He thought that
Hammersley had been after bigger game. Plans, fortifications--the same
objects, the same methods. Von Stromberg had tried to puzzle out in
the mazes of his wonderful brain the possible chance that this man
could have had of learning of the whereabouts of Herr Gottschalk’s
memoranda and of the momentous decision which had been reached in the
Wilhelmstrasse with regard to them. He studied Hammersley closely,
with something approaching regret that the contest between them
could not have been waged at greater length and for higher stakes.
He felt a genuine human sorrow at this moment over the impending
fate of this handsome young man who was only doing his duty for the
fatuous English. It was too bad. But there was much else to do.
Tomorrow his mission in this part of the Empire would be ended and the
Wilhelmstrasse was calling. He touched the bell upon the table and
Captain Wentz entered.
“Herr Hammersley is to be taken to the room on the third floor. Tonight
you will see that he is securely bound and a guard set over him, within
the room. You will place another guard outside below his window. If he
tries to escape, shoot him.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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