Chapter Six. The Indiscretions of the Same

Greenmantle

by John Buchan

I was standing stark naked next morning in that icy bedroom,
trying to bathe in about a quart of water, when Stumm entered. He
strode up to me and stared me in the face. I was half a head shorter
than him to begin with, and a man does not feel his stoutest when he
has no clothes, so he had the pull on me every way.

'I have reason to believe that you are a liar,' he growled.

I pulled the bed-cover round me, for I was shivering with cold,
and the German idea of a towel is a pocket-handkerchief. I own I was
in a pretty blue funk.

'A liar!' he repeated. 'You and that swine Pienaar.'

With my best effort at surliness I asked what we had done.

'You lied, because you said you know no German. Apparently your
friend knows enough to talk treason and blasphemy.'

This gave me back some heart.

'I told you I knew a dozen words. But I told you Peter could
talk it a bit. I told you that yesterday at the station.' Fervently
I blessed my luck for that casual remark.

He evidently remembered, for his tone became a trifle more
civil.

'You are a precious pair. If one of you is a scoundrel, why not
the other?'

'I take no responsibility for Peter,' I said. I felt I was a
cad in saying it, but that was the bargain we had made at the start.
'I have known him for years as a great hunter and a brave man. I
knew he fought well against the English. But more I cannot tell you.
You have to judge him for yourself. What has he done?'

I was told, for Stumm had got it that morning on the telephone.
While telling it he was kind enough to allow me to put on my
trousers.

It was just the sort of thing I might have foreseen. Peter,
left alone, had become first bored and then reckless. He had
persuaded the lieutenant to take him out to supper at a big Berlin
restaurant. There, inspired by the lights and music - novel things
for a backveld hunter - and no doubt bored stiff by his company, he
had proceeded to get drunk. That had happened in my experience with
Peter about once in every three years, and it always happened for the
same reason. Peter, bored and solitary in a town, went on the spree.
He had a head like a rock, but he got to the required condition by
wild mixing. He was quite a gentleman in his cups, and not in the
least violent, but he was apt to be very free with his tongue. And
that was what occurred at the Franciscana.

He had begun by insulting the Emperor, it seemed. He drank his
health, but said he reminded him of a wart-hog, and thereby scarified
the lieutenant's soul. Then an officer - some tremendous swell at an
adjoining table had objected to his talking so loud, and Peter had
replied insolently in respectable German. After that things became
mixed. There was some kind of a fight, during which Peter
calumniated the German army and all its female ancestry. How he
wasn't shot or run through I can't imagine, except that the
lieutenant loudly proclaimed that he was a crazy Boer. Anyhow the
upshot was that Peter was marched off to gaol, and I was left in a
pretty pickle.

'I don't believe a word of it,' I said firmly. I had most of my
clothes on now and felt more courageous. 'It is all a plot to get
him into disgrace and draft him off to the front.'

Stumm did not storm as I expected, but smiled.

'That was always his destiny,' he said, 'ever since I saw him.
He was no use to us except as a man with a rifle. Cannon-fodder,
nothing else. Do you imagine, you fool, that this great Empire in
the thick of a world-war is going to trouble its head to lay snares
for an ignorant taakhaar?'

'I wash my hands of him,' I said. 'If what you say of his folly
is true I have no part in it. But he was my companion and I wish him
well. What do you propose to do with him?'

'We will keep him under our eye,' he said, with a wicked twist
of the mouth. 'I have a notion that there is more at the back of
this than appears. We will investigate the antecedents of Herr
Pienaar. And you, too, my friend. On you also we have our eye.'

I did the best thing I could have done, for what with anxiety
and disgust I lost my temper.

'Look here, Sir,' I cried, 'I've had about enough of this. I
came to Germany abominating the English and burning to strike a blow
for you. But you haven't given me much cause to love you. For the
last two days I've had nothing from you but suspicion and insult. The
only decent man I've met is Herr Gaudian. It's because I believe
that there are many in Germany like him that I'm prepared to go on
with this business and do the best I can. But, by God, I wouldn't
raise my little finger for your sake.'

He looked at me very steadily for a minute. 'That sounds like
honesty,' he said at last in a civil voice. 'You had better come
down and get your coffee.'

I was safe for the moment but in very low spirits. What on
earth would happen to poor old Peter? I could do nothing even if I
wanted, and, besides, my first duty was to my mission. I had made
this very clear to him at Lisbon and he had agreed, but all the same
it was a beastly reflection. Here was that ancient worthy left to
the tender mercies of the people he most detested on earth. My only
comfort was that they couldn't do very much with him. If they sent
him to the front, which was the worst they could do, he would escape,
for I would have backed him to get through any mortal lines. It
wasn't much fun for me either. Only when I was to be deprived of it
did I realize how much his company had meant to me. I was absolutely
alone now, and I didn't like it. I seemed to have about as much
chance of joining Blenkiron and Sandy as of flying to the moon.

After breakfast I was told to get ready. When I asked where I
was going Stumm advised me to mind my own business, but I remembered
that last night he had talked of taking me home with him and giving
me my orders. I wondered where his home was.

Gaudian patted me on the back when we started and wrung my hand.
He was a capital good fellow, and it made me feel sick to think that
I was humbugging him. We got into the same big grey car, with
Stumm's servant sitting beside the chauffeur. It was a morning of
hard frost, the bare fields were white with rime, and the fir-trees
powdered like a wedding-cake. We took a different road from the
night before, and after a run of half a dozen miles came to a little
town with a big railway station. It was a junction on some main
line, and after five minutes' waiting we found our train. Once again
we were alone in the carriage. Stumm must have had some colossal
graft, for the train was crowded.

I had another three hours of complete boredom. I dared not
smoke, and could do nothing but stare out of the window. We soon got
into hilly country, where a good deal of snow was lying. It was the
23rd day of December, and even in war time one had a sort of feel of
Christmas. You could see girls carrying evergreens, and when we
stopped at a station the soldiers on leave had all the air of holiday
making. The middle of Germany was a cheerier place than Berlin or
the western parts. I liked the look of the old peasants, and the
women in their neat Sunday best, but I noticed, too, how pinched they
were. Here in the country, where no neutral tourists came, there was
not the same stage-management as in the capital.

Stumm made an attempt to talk to me on the journey. I could see
his aim. Before this he had cross-examined me, but now he wanted to
draw me into ordinary conversation. He had no notion how to do it.
He was either peremptory and provocative, like a drill-sergeant, or
so obviously diplomatic that any fool would have been put on his
guard. That is the weakness of the German. He has no gift for
laying himself alongside different types of men. He is such a
hard-shell being that he cannot put out feelers to his kind. He may
have plenty of brains, as Stumm had, but he has the poorest notion of
psychology of any of God's creatures. In Germany only the Jew can
get outside himself, and that is why, if you look into the matter,
you will find that the Jew is at the back of most German
enterprises.

After midday we stopped at a station for luncheon. We had a
very good meal in the restaurant, and when we were finishing two
officers entered. Stumm got up and saluted and went aside to talk to
them. Then he came back and made me follow him to a waiting- room,
where he told me to stay till he fetched me. I noticed that he
called a porter and had the door locked when he went out.

It was a chilly place with no fire, and I kicked my heels there
for twenty minutes. I was living by the hour now, and did not
trouble to worry about this strange behaviour. There was a volume of
time-tables on a shelf, and I turned the pages idly till I struck a
big railway map. Then it occurred to me to find out where we were
going. I had heard Stumm take my ticket for a place called
Schwandorf, and after a lot of searching I found it. It was away
south in Bavaria, and so far as I could make out less than fifty
miles from the Danube. That cheered me enormously. If Stumm lived
there he would most likely start me off on my travels by the railway
which I saw running to Vienna and then on to the East. It looked as
if I might get to Constantinople after all. But I feared it would be
a useless achievement, for what could I do when I got there? I was
being hustled out of Germany without picking up the slenderest
clue.

The door opened and Stumm entered. He seemed to have got bigger
in the interval and to carry his head higher. There was a proud
light, too, in his eye. 'Brandt,' he said, 'you are about to receive
the greatest privilege that ever fell to one of your race. His
Imperial Majesty is passing through here, and has halted for a few
minutes. He has done me the honour to receive me, and when he heard
my story he expressed a wish to see you. You will follow me to his
presence. Do not be afraid. The All-Highest is merciful and
gracious. Answer his questions like a man.'

I followed him with a quickened pulse. Here was a bit of luck I
had never dreamed of. At the far side of the station a train had
drawn up, a train consisting of three big coaches, chocolate-coloured
and picked out with gold. On the platform beside it stood a small
group of officers, tall men in long grey-blue cloaks. They seemed to
be mostly elderly, and one or two of the faces I thought I remembered
from photographs in the picture papers.

As we approached they drew apart, and left us face to face with
one man. He was a little below middle height, and all muffled in a
thick coat with a fur collar. He wore a silver helmet with an eagle
atop of it, and kept his left hand resting on his sword. Below the
helmet was a face the colour of grey paper, from which shone curious
sombre restless eyes with dark pouches beneath them. There was no
fear of my mistaking him. These were the features which, since
Napoleon, have been best known to the world.

I stood as stiff as a ramrod and saluted. I was perfectly cool
and most desperately interested. For such a moment I would have gone
through fire and water.

'Majesty, this is the Dutchman I spoke of,' I heard Stumm
say.

'What language does he speak?' the Emperor asked.

'Dutch,' was the reply; 'but being a South African he also
speaks English.'

A spasm of pain seemed to flit over the face before me. Then he
addressed me in English.

'You have come from a land which will yet be our ally to offer
your sword to our service? I accept the gift and hail it as a good
omen. I would have given your race its freedom, but there were fools
and traitors among you who misjudged me. But that freedom I shall
yet give you in spite of yourselves. Are there many like you in your
country?'

'There are thousands, sire,' I said, lying cheerfully. 'I am
one of many who think that my race's life lies in your victory. And
I think that that victory must be won not in Europe alone. In South
Africa for the moment there is no chance, so we look to other parts
of the continent. You will win in Europe. You have won in the East,
and it now remains to strike the English where they cannot fend the
blow. If we take Uganda, Egypt will fall. By your permission I go
there to make trouble for your enemies.' A flicker of a smile passed
over the worn face. It was the face of one who slept little and
whose thoughts rode him like a nightmare. 'That is well,' he said.
'Some Englishman once said that he would call in the New World to
redress the balance of the Old. We Germans will summon the whole
earth to suppress the infamies of England. Serve us well, and you
will not be forgotten.' Then he suddenly asked: 'Did you fight in the
last South African War?'

'Yes, Sir,' I said. 'I was in the commando of that Smuts who
has now been bought by England.'

'What were your countrymen's losses?' he asked eagerly.

I did not know, but I hazarded a guess. 'In the field some
twenty thousand. But many more by sickness and in the accursed
prison- camps of the English.'

Again a spasm of pain crossed his face.

'Twenty thousand,' he repeated huskily. 'A mere handful. Today
we lose as many in a skirmish in the Polish marshes.'

Then he broke out fiercely. 'I did not seek the war ... It was
forced on me ... I laboured for peace ... The blood of millions is
on the heads of England and Russia, but England most of all. God
will yet avenge it. He that takes the sword will perish by the
sword. Mine was forced from the scabbard in self-defence, and I am
guiltless. Do they know that among your people?'

'All the world knows it, sire,' I said.

He gave his hand to Stumm and turned away. The last I saw of
him was a figure moving like a sleep-walker, with no spring in his
step, amid his tall suite. I felt that I was looking on at a far
bigger tragedy than any I had seen in action. Here was one that had
loosed Hell, and the furies of Hell had got hold of him. He was no
common man, for in his presence I felt an attraction which was not
merely the mastery of one used to command. That would not have
impressed me, for I had never owned a master. But here was a human
being who, unlike Stumm and his kind, had the power Of laying himself
alongside other men. That was the irony of it. Stumm would not have
cared a tinker's curse for all the massacres in history. But this
man, the chief of a nation of Stumms, paid the price in war for the
gifts that had made him successful in peace. He had imagination and
nerves, and the one was white hot and the others were quivering. I
would not have been in his shoes for the throne of the Universe
...

All afternoon we sped southward, mostly in a country of hills
and wooded valleys. Stumm, for him, was very pleasant. His imperial
master must have been gracious to him, and he passed a bit of it on
to me. But he was anxious to see that I had got the right
impression.

'The All-Highest is merciful, as I told you,' he said.

I agreed with him.

'Mercy is the prerogative of kings,' he said sententiously, 'but
for us lesser folks it is a trimming we can well do without.'

I nodded my approval.

'I am not merciful,' he went on, as if I needed telling that.
'If any man stands in my way I trample the life out of him. That is
the German fashion. That is what has made us great. We do not make
war with lavender gloves and fine phrases, but with hard steel and
hard brains. We Germans will cure the green-sickness of the world.
The nations rise against us. Pouf! They are soft flesh, and flesh
cannot resist iron. The shining ploughshare will cut its way through
acres of mud.'

I hastened to add that these were also my opinions.

'What the hell do your opinions matter? You are a thick-headed
boor of the veld ... Not but what,' he added, 'there is metal in you
slow Dutchmen once we Germans have had the forging of it!'

The winter evening closed in, and I saw that we had come out of
the hills and were in flat country. Sometimes a big sweep of river
showed, and, looking out at one station I saw a funny church with a
thing like an onion on top of its spire. It might almost have been a
mosque, judging from the pictures I remembered of mosques. I wished
to heaven I had given geography more attention in my time.

Presently we stopped, and Stumm led the way out. The train must
have been specially halted for him, for it was a one-horse little
place whose name I could not make out. The station-master was
waiting, bowing and saluting, and outside was a motor-car with big
head-lights. Next minute we were sliding through dark woods where
the snow lay far deeper than in the north. There was a mild frost in
the air, and the tyres slipped and skidded at the corners.

We hadn't far to go. We climbed a little hill and on the top of
it stopped at the door of a big black castle. It looked enormous in
the winter night, with not a light showing anywhere on its front.
The door was opened by an old fellow who took a long time about it
and got well cursed for his slowness. Inside the place was very
noble and ancient. Stumm switched on the electric light, and there
was a great hall with black tarnished portraits of men an women in
old-fashioned clothes, and mighty horns of deer on the walls.

There seemed to be no superfluity of servants. The old fellow
said that food was ready, and without more ado we went into the
dining-room - another vast chamber with rough stone walls above the
panelling - and found some cold meats on the table beside a big fire.
The servant presently brought in a ham omelette, and on that and the
cold stuff we dined. I remember there was nothing to drink but
water. It puzzled me how Stumm kept his great body going on the very
moderate amount of food he ate. He was the type you expect to swill
beer by the bucket and put away a pie in a sitting.

When we had finished, he rang for the old man and told him that
we should be in the study for the rest of the evening. 'You can lock
up and go to bed when you like,' he said, 'but see you have coffee
ready at seven sharp in the morning.'

Ever since I entered that house I had the uncomfortable feeling
of being in a prison. Here was I alone in this great place with a
fellow who could, and would, wring my neck if he wanted. Berlin and
all the rest of it had seemed comparatively open country; I had felt
that I could move freely and at the worst make a bolt for it. But
here I was trapped, and I had to tell myself every minute that I was
there as a friend and colleague. The fact is, I was afraid of Stumm,
and I don't mind admitting it. He was a new thing in my experience
and I didn't like it. If only he had drunk and guzzled a bit I
should have been happier.

We went up a staircase to a room at the end of a long corridor.
Stumm locked the door behind him and laid the key on the table. That
room took my breath away, it was so unexpected. In place of the grim
bareness of downstairs here was a place all luxury and colour and
light. It was very large, but low in the ceiling, and the walls were
full of little recesses with statues in them. A thick grey carpet of
velvet pile covered the floor, and the chairs were low and soft and
upholstered like a lady's boudoir. A pleasant fire burned on the
hearth and there was a flavour of scent in the air, something like
incense or burnt sandalwood. A French clock on the mantelpiece told
me that it was ten minutes past eight. Everywhere on little tables
and in cabinets was a profusion of knickknacks, and there was some
beautiful embroidery framed on screens. At first sight you would
have said it was a woman's drawing-room.

But it wasn't. I soon saw the difference. There had never been
a woman's hand in that place. It was the room of a man who had a
passion for frippery, who had a perverted taste for soft delicate
things. It was the complement to his bluff brutality. I began to
see the queer other side to my host, that evil side which gossip had
spoken of as not unknown in the German army. The room seemed a
horribly unwholesome place, and I was more than ever afraid of
Stumm.

The hearthrug was a wonderful old Persian thing, all faint
greens and pinks. As he stood on it he looked uncommonly like a bull
in a china-shop. He seemed to bask in the comfort of it, and sniffed
like a satisfied animal. Then he sat down at an escritoire, unlocked
a drawer and took out some papers.

'We will now settle your business, friend Brandt,' he said.
'You will go to Egypt and there take your orders from one whose name
and address are in this envelope. This card,' and he lifted a square
piece of grey pasteboard with a big stamp at the corner and some code
words stencilled on it, 'will be your passport. You will Show it to
the man you seek. Keep it jealously, and never use it save under
orders or in the last necessity. It is your badge as an accredited
agent of the German Crown.'

I took the card and the envelope and put them in my
pocket-book.

'Where do I go after Egypt?' I asked.

'That remains to be seen. Probably you will go up the Blue
Nile. Riza, the man you will meet, will direct you. Egypt is a nest
of our agents who work peacefully under the nose of the English
Secret Service.'

'I am willing,' I said. 'But how do I reach Egypt?'

'You will travel by Holland and London. Here is your route,'
and he took a paper from his pocket. 'Your passports are ready and
will be given you at the frontier.'

This was a pretty kettle of fish. I was to be packed off to
Cairo by sea, which would take weeks, and God knows how I would get
from Egypt to Constantinople. I saw all my plans falling to pieces
about my ears, and just when I thought they were shaping nicely.

Stumm must have interpreted the look on my face as fear.

'You have no cause to be afraid,' he said. 'We have passed the
word to the English police to look out for a suspicious South African
named Brandt, one of Maritz's rebels. It is not difficult to have
that kind of a hint conveyed to the proper quarter. But the
description will not be yours. Your name will be Van der Linden, a
respectable Java merchant going home to his plantations after a visit
to his native shores. You had better get your dossier by heart, but
I guarantee you will be asked no questions. We manage these things
well in Germany.'

I kept my eyes on the fire, while I did some savage thinking. I
knew they would not let me out of their sight till they saw me in
Holland, and, once there, there would be no possibility of getting
back. When I left this house I would have no chance of giving them
the slip. And yet I was well on my way to the East, the Danube could
not be fifty miles off, and that way ran the road to Constantinople.
It was a fairly desperate position. If I tried to get away Stumm
would prevent me, and the odds were that I would go to join Peter in
some infernal prison-camp.

Those moments were some of the worst I ever spent. I was
absolutely and utterly baffled, like a rat in a trap. There seemed
nothing for it but to go back to London and tell Sir Walter the game
was up. And that was about as bitter as death.

He saw my face and laughed. 'Does your heart fail you, my little
Dutchman? You funk the English? I will tell you one thing for your
comfort. There is nothing in the world to be feared except me.
Fail, and you have cause to shiver. Play me false and you had far
better never have been born.'

His ugly sneering face was close above mine. Then he put out
his hands and gripped my shoulders as he had done the first
afternoon.

I forget if I mentioned that part of the damage I got at Loos
was a shrapnel bullet low down at the back of my neck. The wound had
healed well enough, but I had pains there on a cold day. His fingers
found the place and it hurt like hell.

There is a very narrow line between despair and black rage. I
had about given up the game, but the sudden ache of my shoulders gave
me purpose again. He must have seen the rage in my eyes, for his own
became cruel.

'The weasel would like to bite,' he cried. 'But the poor weasel
has found its master. Stand still, vermin. Smile, look pleasant, or
I will make pulp of you. Do you dare to frown at me?'

I shut my teeth and said never a word. I was choking in my
throat and could not have uttered a syllable if I had tried.

Then he let me go, grinning like an ape.

I stepped back a pace and gave him my left between the eyes.

For a second he did not realize what had happened, for I don't
suppose anyone had dared to lift a hand to him since he was a child.
He blinked at me mildly. Then his face grew as red as fire.

'God in heaven,' he said quietly. 'I am going to kill you,' and
he flung himself on me like a mountain.

I was expecting him and dodged the attack. I was quite calm
now, but pretty helpless. The man had a gorilla's reach and could
give me at least a couple of stone. He wasn't soft either, but
looked as hard as granite. I was only just from hospital and
absurdly out of training. He would certainly kill me if he could,
and I saw nothing to prevent him.

My only chance was to keep him from getting to grips, for he
could have squeezed in my ribs in two seconds. I fancied I was
lighter on my legs than him, and I had a good eye. Black Monty at
Kimberley had taught me to fight a bit, but there is no art on earth
which can prevent a big man in a narrow space from sooner or later
cornering a lesser one. That was the danger.

Backwards and forwards we padded on the soft carpet. He had no
notion of guarding himself, and I got in a good few blows.

Then I saw a queer thing. Every time I hit him he blinked and
seemed to pause. I guessed the reason for that. He had gone through
life keeping the crown of the causeway, and nobody had ever stood up
to him. He wasn't a coward by a long chalk, but he was a bully, and
had never been struck in his life. He was getting struck now in real
earnest, and he didn't like it. He had lost his bearings and was
growing as mad as a hatter.

I kept half an eye on the clock. I was hopeful now, and was
looking for the right kind of chance. The risk was that I might tire
sooner than him and be at his mercy.

Then I learned a truth I have never forgotten. If you are
fighting a man who means to kill you, he will be apt to down you
unless you mean to kill him too. Stumm did not know any rules to
this game, and I forgot to allow for that. Suddenly, when I was
watching his eyes, he launched a mighty kick at my stomach. If he
had got me, this yarn would have had an abrupt ending. But by the
mercy of God I was moving sideways when he let out, and his heavy
boot just grazed my left thigh.

It was the place where most of the shrapnel had lodged, and for
a second I was sick with pain and stumbled. Then I was on my feet
again but with a new feeling in my blood. I had to smash Stumm or
never sleep in my bed again.

I got a wonderful power from this new cold rage of mine. I felt
I couldn't tire, and I danced round and dotted his face till it was
streaming with blood. His bulky padded chest was no good to me, so I
couldn't try for the mark.

He began to snort now and his breath came heavily. 'You
infernal cad,' I said in good round English, 'I'm going to knock the
stuffing out of you,' but he didn't know what I was saying.

Then at last he gave me my chance. He half tripped over a
little table and his face stuck forward. I got him on the point of
the chin, and put every ounce of weight I possessed behind the blow.
He crumpled up in a heap and rolled over, upsetting a lamp and
knocking a big china jar in two. His head, I remember, lay under the
escritoire from which he had taken my passport.

I picked up the key and unlocked the door. In one of the gilded
mirrors I smoothed my hair and tidied up my clothes. My anger had
completely gone and I had no particular ill-will left against Stumm.
He was a man of remarkable qualities, which would have brought him to
the highest distinction in the Stone Age. But for all that he and
his kind were back numbers.

I stepped out of the room, locked the door behind me, and
started out on the second stage of my travels.