第2章

’It’stherightkind，’herepliedsolemnly。’Say，Major，whatareyourlotfightingfor？ForyourownskinsandyourEmpireandthepeaceofEurope。Waal，thoseidealsdon’tconcernusonecent。

We’renotEuropeans，andtherearen’tanyGermantrenchesonLongIslandyet。You’vemadetheringinEurope，andifwecamebuttinginitwouldn’tbetherulesofthegame。Youwouldn’twelcomeus，andIguessyou’dberight。We’rethatdelicate—mindedwecan’tinterfereandthatwaswhatmyfriend，PresidentWilson，meantwhenheopinedthatAmericawastooproudtofight。Sowe’renootrals。Butlikewisewe’rebenevolentnootrals。AsIfollowevents，there’saskunkbeenletlooseintheworld，andtheodourofitisgoingtomakelifenonetoosweettillitisclearedaway。Itwasn’tusthatstirredupthatskunk，butwe’vegottotakeahandindisinfectingtheplanet。See？Wecan’tfight，but，byGod！someofusaregoingtosweatbloodtosweepthemessup。OfficiallywedonothingexceptgiveoffNoteslikealeakyboilergivesoffsteam。

Butasindividooalcitizenswe’reinituptotheneck。So，inthespiritofJeffersonDavisandWoodrowWilson，I’mgoingtobethenootralistkindofnootraltillKaiserwillbesorryhedidn’tdeclarewaronAmericaatthebeginning。’

Iwascompletelyrecoveringmytemper。Thisfellowwasaperfectjewel，andhisspiritputpurposeintome。

’IguessyouBritishwerethesamekindofnootralwhenyourAdmiralwarnedofftheGermanfleetfrominterferingwithDeweyinManilaBayin’98。’MrBlenkirondrankupthelastdropofhisboiledmilkandlitathinblackcigar。

Ileanedforward。’HaveyoutalkedtoSirWalter？’Iasked。

’Ihavetalkedtohim，andhehasgivenmetounderstandthatthere’sadealaheadwhichyou’regoingtoboss。Therearenofliesonthatbigman，andifhesaysit’sgoodbusinessthenyoucancountmein。’

’Youknowthatit’suncommonlydangerous？’

’Ijudgedso。Butitdon’tdotobegincountingrisks。Ibelieveinanall—wiseandbeneficentProvidence，butyouhavegottotrustHimandgiveHimachance。What’slifeanyhow？Forme，it’slivingonastrictdietandhavingfrequentpainsinmystomach。Itisn’tsuchanalmightylottogiveup，providedyougetagoodpriceinthedeal。Besides，howbigistherisk？Aboutoneo’clockinthemorning，whenyoucan’tsleep，itwillbethesizeofMountEverest，butifyourunouttomeetit，itwillbeahillockyoucanjumpover。

Thegrizzlylooksveryfiercewhenyou’retakingyourticketfortheRockiesandwonderingifyou’llcomeback，buthe’sjustanordinarybearwhenyou’vegotthesightofyourrifleonhim。Iwon’tthinkaboutriskstillI’muptomyneckinthemanddon’tseetheroadout。’

Iscribbledmyaddressonapieceofpaperandhandedittothestoutphilosopher。’Cometodinnertonightateight，’Isaid。

’Ithankyou，Major。Alittlefish，please，plain—boiled，andsomehotmilk。YouwillforgivemeifIborrowyourcouchafterthemealandspendtheeveningonmyback。Thatistheadviceofmynoodoctor。’

Igotataxianddrovetomyclub。OnthewayIopenedtheenvelopeSirWalterhadgivenme。Itcontainedanumberofjottings，thedossierofMrBlenkiron。HehaddonewondersfortheAlliesintheStates。HehadnosedouttheDumbaplot，andhadbeeninstrumentalingettingtheportfolioofDrAlbert。VonPapen’sspieshadtriedtomurderhim，afterhehaddefeatedanattempttoblowuponeofthebiggunfactories。SirWalterhadwrittenattheend:’Thebestmanweeverhad。BetterthanScudder。HewouldgothroughhellwithaboxofbismuthtabletsandapackofPatiencecards。’

Iwentintothelittlebacksmoking—room，borrowedanatlasfromthelibrary，pokedupthefire，andsatdowntothink。MrBlenkironhadgivenmethefillipIneeded。Mymindwasbeginningtoworknow，andwasrunningwideoverthewholebusiness。NotthatIhopedtofindanythingbymycogitations。Itwasn’tthinkinginanarm—chairthatwouldsolvethemystery。ButIwasgettingasortofgriponaplanofoperations。AndtomyreliefIhadstoppedthinkingabouttherisks。Blenkironhadshamedmeoutofthat。Ifasedentarydyspepticcouldshowthatkindofnerve，Iwasn’tgoingtobebehindhim。

Iwentbacktomyflataboutfiveo’clock。MymanPaddockhadgonetothewarslongago，soIhadshiftedtooneofthenewblocksinParkLanewheretheyprovidefoodandservice。IkepttheplaceontohaveahometogotowhenIgotleave。It’samiserablebusinessholidayinginanhotel。

Sandywasdevouringtea—cakeswiththeseriousresolutionofaconvalescent。

’Well，Dick，what’sthenews？Isitabrasshatortheboot？’

’Neither，’Isaid。’ButyouandIaregoingtodisappearfromHisMajesty’sforces。Secondedforspecialservice。’

’Omysaintedaunt！’saidSandy。’Whatisit？ForHeaven’ssakeputmeoutofpain。Havewetotoutdeputationsofsuspiciousneutralsovermunitionworksortaketheshiveringjournalistinamotor—carwherehecanimagineheseesaBoche？’

’Thenewswillkeep。ButIcantellyouthismuch。It’saboutassafeandeasyastogothroughtheGermanlineswithawalking—stick。’

’Come，that’snotsodusty，’saidSandy，andbegancheerfullyonthemuffins。

ImustspareamomenttointroduceSandytothereader，forhecannotbeallowedtoslipintothistalebyaside—door。IfyouwillconsultthePeerageyouwillfindthattoEdwardCospatrick，fifteenthBaronClanroyden，therewasbornintheyear1882，ashissecondson，LudovickGustavusArbuthnot，commonlycalledtheHonourable，etc。ThesaidsonwaseducatedatEtonandNewCollege，Oxford，wasacaptainintheTweeddaleYeomanry，andservedforsomeyearsashonoraryattacheatvariousembassies。ThePeeragewillstopshortatthispoint，butthatisbynomeanstheendofthestory。Fortherestyoumustconsultverydifferentauthorities。LeanbrownmenfromtheendsoftheearthmaybeseenontheLondonpavementsnowandthenincreasedclothes，walkingwiththelightoutlandstep，slinkingintoclubsasiftheycouldnotrememberwhetherornottheybelongedtothem。FromthemyoumaygetnewsofSandy。Betterstill，youwillhearofhimatlittleforgottenfishingportswheretheAlbanianmountainsdiptotheAdriatic。IfyoustruckaMeccapilgrimagetheoddsareyouwouldmeetadozenofSandy’sfriendsinit。Inshepherds’hutsintheCaucasusyouwillfindbitsofhiscast—offclothing，forhehasaknackofsheddinggarmentsashegoes。InthecaravanseraisofBokharaandSamarkandheisknown，andthereareshikarisinthePamirswhostillspeakofhimroundtheirfires。IfyouweregoingtovisitPetrogradorRomeorCairoitwouldbenouseaskinghimforintroductions;ifhegavethem，theywouldleadyouintostrangehaunts。ButifFatecompelledyoutogotoLlasaorYarkandorSeistanhecouldmapoutyourroadforyouandpassthewordtopotentfriends。Wecallourselvesinsular，butthetruthisthatwearetheonlyraceonearththatcanproducemencapableofgettinginsidetheskinofremotepeoples。PerhapstheScotsarebetterthantheEnglish，butwe’reallathousandpercentbetterthananybodyelse。SandywasthewanderingScotcarriedtothepitchofgenius。

InolddayshewouldhaveledacrusadeordiscoveredanewroadtotheIndies。Todayhemerelyroamedasthespiritmovedhim，tillthewarswepthimupanddumpedhimdowninmybattalion。

IgotoutSirWalter’shalf—sheetofnote—paper。Itwasnottheoriginal—naturallyhewantedtokeepthat—butitwasacarefultracing。ItookitthatHarryBullivanthadnotwrittendownthewordsasamemoforhisownuse。Peoplewhofollowhiscareerhavegoodmemories。Hemusthavewrittentheminorderthat，ifheperishedandhisbodywasfound，hisfriendsmightgetaclue。

Wherefore，Iargued，thewordsmustbeintelligibletosomebodyorotherofourpersuasion，andlikewisetheymustbeprettywellgibberishtoanyTurkorGermanthatfoundthem。

Thefirst，’_Kasredin’，Icouldmakenothingof。

IaskedSandy。

’YoumeanNasr—ed—din，’hesaid，stillmunchingcrumpets。

’What’sthat？’Iaskedsharply。

’He’stheGeneralbelievedtobecommandingagainstusinMesopotamia。IrememberhimyearsagoinAleppo。HetalkedbadFrenchanddrankthesweetestofsweetchampagne。’

Ilookedcloselyatthepaper。The’K’wasunmistakable。

’Kasredinisnothing。ItmeansinArabictheHouseofFaith，andmightcoveranythingfromHagiaSofiatoasuburbanvilla。What’syournextpuzzle，Dick？Haveyouenteredforaprizecompetitioninaweeklypaper？’

’_Cancer，’Ireadout。

’ItistheLatinforacrab。Likewiseitisthenameofapainfuldisease。itisalsoasignoftheZodiac。’

’_V。_I，’Iread。

’Thereyouhaveme。Itsoundslikethenumberofamotor—car。

Thepolicewouldfindoutforyou。Icallthisratheradifficultcompetition。What’stheprize？’

Ipassedhimthepaper。’Whowroteit？Itlooksasifhehadbeeninahurry。’

’HarryBullivant，’Isaid。

Sandy’sfacegrewsolemn。’OldHarry。Hewasatmytutor’s。

ThebestfellowGodevermade。IsawhisnameinthecasualtylistbeforeKut……Harrydidn’tdothingswithoutapurpose。What’sthestoryofthispaper？’

’Waittillafterdinner，’Isaid。’I’mgoingtochangeandhaveabath。There’sanAmericancomingtodine，andhe’spartofthebusiness。’

MrBlenkironarrivedpunctualtotheminuteinafurcoatlikeaRussianprince’s。NowthatIsawhimonhisfeetIcouldjudgehimbetter。Hehadafatface，butwasnottooplumpinfigure，andverymuscularwristsshowedbelowhisshirt—cuffs。Ifanciedthat，iftheoccasioncalled，hemightbeagoodmanwithhishands。

SandyandIateaheartymeal，buttheAmericanpickedathisboiledfishandsippedhismilkadropatatime。Whentheservanthadclearedaway，hewasasgoodashiswordandlaidhimselfoutonmysofa。Iofferedhimagoodcigar，buthepreferredoneofhisownleanblackabominations。Sandystretchedhislengthinaneasychairandlithispipe。’Nowforyourstory，Dick，’hesaid。

Ibegan，asSirWalterhadbegunwithme，bytellingthemaboutthepuzzleintheNearEast。Ipitchedaprettygoodyarn，forIhadbeenthinkingalotaboutit，andthemysteryofthebusinesshadcaughtmyfancy。Sandygotverykeen。

’Itispossibleenough。Indeed，I’vebeenexpectingit，thoughI’mhangedifIcanimaginewhatcardtheGermanshavegotuptheirsleeve。Itmightbeanyoneoftwentythings。ThirtyyearsagotherewasabogusprophecythatplayedthedevilinYemen。OritmightbeaflagsuchasAliWadHeluhad，orajewellikeSolomon’snecklaceinAbyssinia。Youneverknowwhatwillstartoffajehad！

ButIratherthinkit’saman。’

’Wherecouldhegethispurchase？’Iasked。

’It’shardtosay。IfitweremerelywildtribesmenliketheBedouinhemighthavegotareputationasasaintandmiracle—worker。Orhemightbeafellowthatpreachedapurereligion，likethechapthatfoundedtheSenussi。ButI’minclinedtothinkhemustbesomethingextraspecialifhecanputaspellonthewholeMoslemworld。TheTurkandthePersianwouldn’tfollowtheordinarynewtheologygame。HemustbeoftheBlood。YourMahdisandMullahsandImamswerenobodies，buttheyhadonlyalocalprestige。TocaptureallIslam—andIgatherthatiswhatwefear—themanmustbeoftheKoreish，thetribeoftheProphethimself。’

’Buthowcouldanyimpostorprovethat？ForIsupposehe’sanimpostor。’

’Hewouldhavetocombinealotofclaims。Hisdescentmustbeprettygoodtobeginwith，andtherearefamilies，remember，thatclaimtheKoreishblood。Thenhe’dhavetoberatherawonderonhisownaccount—saintly，eloquent，andthatsortofthing。AndI

expecthe’dhavetoshowasign，thoughwhatthatcouldbeI

haven’tanotion。’

’YouknowtheEastaboutaswellasanylivingman。Doyouthinkthatkindofthingispossible？’Iasked。

’Perfectly，’saidSandy，withagraveface。

’Well，there’sthegroundclearedtobeginwith。Thenthere’stheevidenceofprettywelleverysecretagentwepossess。Thatallseemstoprovethefact。Butwehavenodetailsandnocluesexceptthatbitofpaper。’Itoldthemthestoryofit。

Sandystudieditwithwrinkledbrows。’Itbeatsme。Butitmaybethekeyforallthat。AcluemaybedumbinLondonandshoutaloudatBaghdad。’

’That’sjustthepointIwascomingto。SirWaltersaysthisthingisaboutasimportantforourcauseasbigguns。Hecan’tgivemeorders，butheoffersthejobofgoingouttofindwhatthemischiefis。Onceheknowsthat，hesayshecancheckmateit。Butit’sgottobefoundoutsoon，fortheminemaybesprungatanymoment。

I’vetakenonthejob。Willyouhelp？’

Sandywasstudyingtheceiling。

’Ishouldaddthatit’saboutassafeasplayingchuck—farthingattheLoosCross—roads，thedayyouandIwentin。Andifwefailnobodycanhelpus。’

’Oh，ofcourse，ofcourse，’saidSandyinanabstractedvoice。

MrBlenkiron，havingfinishedhisafter—dinnerrecumbency，hadsatupandpulledasmalltabletowardshim。FromhispockethehadtakenapackofPatiencecardsandhadbeguntoplaythegamecalledtheDoubleNapoleon。Heseemedtobeobliviousoftheconversation。

SuddenlyIhadafeelingthatthewholeaffairwasstarklunacy。

HerewerewethreesimpletonssittinginaLondonflatandprojectingamissionintotheenemy’scitadelwithoutanideawhatweweretodoorhowweweretodoit。Andoneofthethreewaslookingattheceiling，andwhistlingsoftlythroughhisteeth，andanotherwasplayingPatience。ThefarceofthethingstruckmesokeenlythatIlaughed。

Sandylookedatmesharply。

’Youfeellikethat？Samewithme。It’sidiocy，butallwarisidiotic，andthemostwhole—heartedidiotisapttowin。We’retogoonthismadtrailwhereverwethinkwecanhitit。Well，I’mwithyou。ButIdon’tmindadmittingthatI’minabluefunk。Ihadgotmyselfadjustedtothistrenchbusinessandwasquitehappy。Andnowyouhavehoickedmeout，andmyfeetarecold。’

’Idon’tbelieveyouknowwhatfearis，’Isaid。

’Thereyou’rewrong，Dick，’hesaidearnestly。’Everymanwhoisn’tamaniacknowsfear。Ihavedonesomedaftthings，butI

neverstartedonthemwithoutwishingtheywereover。OnceI’mintheshowIgeteasier，andbythetimeI’mcomingoutI’msorrytoleaveit。Butatthestartmyfeetareicy。’

’ThenItakeityou’recoming？’

’Rather，’hesaid。’Youdidn’timagineIwouldgobackonyou？’

’Andyou，sir？’IaddressedBlenkiron。

HisgameofPatienceseemedtobecomingout。Hewascompletingeightlittleheapsofcardswithacontentedgrunt。AsIspoke，heraisedhissleepyeyesandnodded。

’Why，yes，’hesaid。’Yougentlemenmustn’tthinkthatIhaven’tbeenfollowingyourmostengrossingconversation。IguessIhaven’tmissedasyllable。IfindthatagameofPatiencestimulatesthedigestionaftermealsandconducestoquietreflection。JohnS。

Blenkironiswithyouallthetime。’

Heshuffledthecardsanddealtforanewgame。

Idon’tthinkIeverexpectedarefusal，butthisreadyassentcheeredmewonderfully。Icouldn’thavefacedthethingalone。

’Well，that’ssettled。Nowforwaysandmeans。WethreehavegottoputourselvesinthewayoffindingoutGermany’ssecret，andwehavetogowhereitisknown。SomehoworotherwehavetoreachConstantinople，andtobeatthebiggestareaofcountrywemustgobydifferentroads。Sandy，mylad，you’vegottogetintoTurkey。You’retheonlyoneofusthatknowsthatengagingpeople。

Youcan’tgetinbyEuropeveryeasily，soyoumusttryAsia。WhataboutthecoastofAsiaMinor？’

’Itcouldbedone，’hesaid。’You’dbetterleavethatentirelytome。I’llfindoutthebestway。IsupposetheForeignOfficewillhelpmetogettothejumping—offplace？’

’Remember，’Isaid，’it’snogoodgettingtoofareast。Thesecret，sofarasconcernsus，isstillwestofConstantinople。’

’Iseethat。I’llblowinontheBosporusbyashorttack。’

’Foryou，MrBlenkiron，Iwouldsuggestastraightjourney。

You’reanAmerican，andcantravelthroughGermanydirect。ButI

wonderhowfaryouractivitiesinNewYorkwillallowyoutopassasaneutral？’

’Ihaveconsideredthat，Sir，’hesaid。’IhavegivensomethoughttothepecooliarpsychologyofthegreatGermannation。AsIreadthemthey’reascunningascats，andifyouplaythefelinegametheywilloutwityoueverytime。Yes，Sir，theyarenoslouchesatsleuth—

work。IfIweretobuyapairoffalsewhiskersanddyemyhairanddresslikeaBaptistparsonandgointoGermanyonthepeaceracket，Iguessthey’dbeonmytraillikeaknife，andIshouldbeshotasaspyinsideofaweekordoingsolitaryintheMoabiteprison。Buttheylackthelargervision。Theycanbebluffed，Sir。

WithyourapprovalIshallvisittheFatherlandasJohnS。Blenkiron，onceathorninthesideoftheirbrightestboysontheotherside。

ButitwillbeadifferentJohnS。Ireckonhewillhaveexperiencedachangeofheart。Hewillhavecometoappreciatethegreat，pure，noblesoulofGermany，andhewillbesorrowingforhispastlikeaconvertedgun—manatacampmeeting。HewillbeavictimofthemeannessandperfidyoftheBritishGovernment。Iamgoingtohaveafirst—classrowwithyourForeignOfficeaboutmypassport，andIamgoingtospeakharshwordsaboutthemupanddownthismetropolis。Iamgoingtobeshadowedbyyoursleuthsatmyportofembarkation，andIguessIshallrunuphardagainsttheBritishLe—gationsinScandinavia。BythattimeourTeutonicfriendswillhavebeguntowonderwhathashappenedtoJohnS。，andtothinkthatmaybetheyhavebeenmistakeninthatchild。So，whenIgettoGermanytheywillbewaitingformewithanopenmind。ThenI

judgemyconductwillsurpriseandencouragethem。IwillconfidetothemvaluablesecretinformationaboutBritishpreparations，andIwillshowuptheBritishlionasthemeanestkindofcur。Youmaytrustmetomakeagoodimpression。AfterthatI’llmoveeastwards，toseethedemolitionoftheBritishEmpireinthoseparts。Bytheway，whereistherendezvous？’

’Thisisthe17thdayofNovember。Ifwecan’tfindoutwhatwewantintwomonthswemaychuckthejob。Onthe17thofJanuaryweshouldforgatherinConstantinople。Whoevergetstherefirstwaitsfortheothers。Ifbythatdatewe’renotallpresent，itwillbeconsideredthatthemissingmanhasgotintotroubleandmustbegivenup。Ifeverwegettherewe’llbecomingfromdifferentpointsandindifferentcharacters，sowewantarendezvouswhereallkindsofoddfolkassemble。

Sandy，youknowConstantinople。Youfixthemeeting—place。’

’I’vealreadythoughtofthat，’hesaid，andgoingtothewriting—

tablehedrewalittleplanonasheetofpaper。’ThatlanerunsdownfromtheKurdishBazaarinGalatatotheferryofRatchik。Half—

waydownontheleft—handsideisacafekeptbyaGreekcalledKuprasso。Behindthecafeisagarden，surroundedbyhighwallswhichwerepartsoftheoldByzantineTheatre。AttheendofthegardenisashantycalledtheGarden—houseofSulimantheRed。Ithasbeeninitstimeadancing—hallandagamblinghellandGodknowswhatelse。It’snotaplaceforrespectablepeople，buttheendsoftheearthconvergethereandnoquestionsareasked。That’sthebestspotIcanthinkofforameeting—place。’

Thekettlewassimmeringbythefire，thenightwasraw，anditseemedthehourforwhisky—punch。ImadeabrewforSandyandmyselfandboiledsomemilkforBlenkiron。

’Whataboutlanguage？’Iasked。’You’reallright，Sandy？’

’IknowGermanfairlywell;andIcanpassanywhereasaTurk。

Thefirstwilldoforeavesdroppingandthesecondforordinarybusiness。’

’Andyou？’IaskedBlenkiron。

’IwasleftoutatPentecost，’hesaid。’IregrettoconfessIhavenogiftoftongues。ButthepartIhavechosenformyselfdon’trequirethepolyglot。NeverforgetI’mplainJohnS。Blenkiron，acitizenofthegreatAmericanRepublic。’

’Youhaven’ttoldusyourownline，Dick，’Sandysaid。

’IamgoingtotheBosporusthroughGermany，and，notbeinganeutral，itwon’tbeaverycushionedjourney。’

Sandylookedgrave。

’Thatsoundsprettydesperate。IsyourGermangoodenough？’

’Prettyfair;quitegoodenoughtopassasanative。ButofficiallyI

shallnotunderstandoneword。IshallbeaBoerfromWesternCapeColony:oneofMaritz’soldlotwhoafterabitoftroublehasgotthroughAngolaandreachedEurope。IshalltalkDutchandnothingelse。And，myhat！IshallbeprettybitterabouttheBritish。

There’sapowerfullotofgoodswear—wordsinthetaal。IshallknowallaboutAfrica，andbepantingtogetanotherwhackatthe_verdommt_rooinek。WithlucktheymaysendmetotheUgandashowortoEgypt，andIshalltakecaretogobyConstantinople。IfI’mtodealwiththeMohammedannativesthey’reboundtoshowmewhathandtheyhold。Atleast，that’sthewayIlookatit。’

Wefilledourglasses—twoofpunchandoneofmilk—anddranktoournextmerrymeeting。ThenSandybegantolaugh，andIjoinedin。Thesenseofhopelessfollyagaindescendedonme。ThebestplanswecouldmakewerelikeafewbucketsofwatertoeasethedroughtoftheSaharaortheoldladywhowouldhavestoppedtheAtlanticwithabroom。IthoughtwithsympathyoflittleSaintTeresa。

CHAPTERTHREE

PeterPienaarOurvariousdepartureswereunassuming，allbuttheAmerican’s。

Sandyspentabusyfortnightinhissubterraneanfashion，nowintheBritishMuseum，nowrunningaboutthecountrytoseeoldexploringcompanions，nowattheWarOffice，nowattheForeignOffice，butmostlyinmyflat，sunkinanarm—chairandmeditating。

HeleftfinallyonDecember1stasaKing’sMessengerforCairo。

OncethereIknewtheKing’sMessengerwoulddisappear，andsomequeerOrientalruffiantakehisplace。Itwouldhavebeenimpertinenceinmetoinquireintohisplans。Hewastherealprofessional，andIwasonlythedabbler。

Blenkironwasadifferentmatter。SirWaltertoldmetolookoutforsqualls，andthetwinkleinhiseyegavemeanotionofwhatwascoming。Thefirstthingthesportsmandidwastowritealettertothepaperssignedwithhisname。TherehadbeenadebateintheHouseofCommonsonforeignpolicy，andthespeechofsomeidiottheregavehimhiscue。HedeclaredthathehadbeenheartandsoulwiththeBritishatthestart，butthathewasreluctantlycompelledtochangehisviews。HesaidourblockadeofGermanyhadbrokenallthelawsofGodandhumanity，andhereckonedthatBritainwasnowtheworstexponentofPrussianismgoing。Thatlettermadeafineracket，andthepaperthatprintedithadarowwiththeCensor。

ButthatwasonlythebeginningofMrBlenkiron’scampaign。HegotmixedupwithsomemountebankscalledtheLeagueofDemocratsagainstAggression，gentlemenwhothoughtthatGermanywasallrightifwecouldonlykeepfromhurtingherfeelings。Headdressedameetingundertheirauspices，whichwasbrokenupbythecrowd，butnotbeforeJohnS。hadgotoffhischestalotofamazingstuff。Iwasn’tthere，butamanwhowastoldmethatheneverheardsuchclottednonsense。HesaidthatGermanywasrightinwantingthefreedomoftheseas，andthatAmericawouldbackherup，andthattheBritishNavywasabiggermenacetothepeaceoftheworldthantheKaiser’sarmy。Headmittedthathehadoncethoughtdifferently，buthewasanhonestmanandnotafraidtofacefacts。Theorationclosedsuddenly，whenhegotabrussels—

sproutintheeye，atwhichmyfriendsaidhesworeinaveryunpacifiststyle。

AfterthathewroteotherletterstothePress，sayingthattherewasnomorelibertyofspeechinEngland，andalotofscallywagsbackedhimup。SomeAmericanswantedtotarandfeatherhim，andhegotkickedoutoftheSavoy。Therewasanagitationtogethimdeported，andquestionswereaskedinParliament，andtheUnder—SecretaryforForeignAffairssaidhisdepartmenthadthematterinhand。IwasbeginningtothinkthatBlenkironwascarryinghistomfoolerytoofar，soIwenttoseeSirWalter，buthetoldmetokeepmymindeasy。

’Ourfriend’smottois"Thorough"，’hesaid，’andheknowsverywellwhatheisabout。Wehaveofficiallyrequestedhimtoleave，andhesailsfromNewcastleonMonday。Hewillbeshadowedwhereverhegoes，andwehopetoprovokemoreoutbreaks。Heisaverycapablefellow。’

ThelastIsawofhimwasontheSaturdayafternoonwhenImethiminStjames’sStreetandofferedtoshakehands。Hetoldmethatmyuniformwasapollution，andmadeaspeechtoasmallcrowdaboutit。Theyhissedhimandhehadtogetintoataxi。Ashedepartedtherewasjustthesuspicionofawinkinhislefteye。

OnMondayIreadthathehadgoneoff，andthepapersobservedthatourshoreswerewellquitofhim。

IsailedonDecember3rdfromLiverpoolinaboatboundfortheArgentinethatwasduetoputinatLisbon。IhadofcoursetogetaForeignOfficepassporttoleaveEngland，butafterthatmyconnectionwiththeGovernmentceased。Allthedetailsofmyjourneywerecarefullythoughtout。Lisbonwouldbeagoodjumping—offplace，foritwastherendezvousofscallywagsfrommostpartsofAfrica。MykitwasanoldGladstonebag，andmyclothesweretherelicsofmySouthAfricanwardrobe。IletmybeardgrowforsomedaysbeforeIsailed，and，sinceitgrowsfast，IwentonboardwiththekindofhairychinyouwillseeontheyoungBoer。MynamewasnowBrandt，CornelisBrandt—atleastsomypassportsaid，andpassportsneverlie。

Therewerejusttwootherpassengersonthatbeastlyboat，andtheyneverappearedtillwewereoutoftheBay。Iwasprettybadmyself，butmanagedtomoveaboutallthetime，forthefrowstinmycabinwouldhavesickenedahippo。TheoldtubtooktwodaysandanighttowaddlefromUshanttoFinisterre。Thentheweatherchangedandwecameoutofsnow—squallsintosomethingverylikesummer。ThehillsofPortugalwereallblueandyellowliketheKalahari，andbeforewemadetheTagusIwasbeginningtoforgetIhadeverleftRhodesia。TherewasaDutchmanamongthesailorswithwhomIusedtopatterthetaal，andbutfor’Goodmorning’

and’Goodevening’inbrokenEnglishtothecaptain，thatwasaboutallthetalkingIdidonthecruise。

WedroppedanchoroffthequaysofLisbononashinybluemorning，prettynearwarmenoughtowearflannels。Ihadnowgottobeverywary。Ididnotleavetheshipwiththeshore—goingboat，butmadealeisurelybreakfast。ThenIstrolledondeck，andthere，justcastinganchorinthemiddleofthestream，wasanothershipwithablueandwhitefunnelIknewsowell。IcalculatedthatamonthbeforeshehadbeensmellingthemangroveswampsofAngola。Nothingcouldbetteranswermypurpose。Iproposedtoboardher，pretendingIwaslookingforafriend，andcomeonshorefromher，sothatanyoneinLisbonwhochosetobecuriouswouldthinkIhadlandedstraightfromPortugueseAfrica。