The adventures of Heine
discovered twenty years ago, for a portion of this tunnel was
unearthed, but it seemed to lead to nowhere. What his Lordship does
_not_ know, is that that tunnel is virtually intact and that the
passage which was discovered was not the real one but was merely a
branch which was never completed and which was intended to lead to the
crypt of the village church. Remember that this is all I can tell you.
I know no more, and I merely pass on the information to you for what
it is worth.”
I went back to London that night, a little puzzled as to why the good
Baron had brought me all the way to Brighton to give me information of
this kind. It was not a certainty that any well-placed person would be
accommodated on Lord Leatham’s property, and it was less certain that
I could be of any assistance to such a prisoner, unless I was prepared
to take down a gang of workmen (which was obviously impossible) to
open up the hidden passage.
The whole scheme was impracticable and I could only put it down as an
excess of zeal for the Fatherland on the part of his Excellency.
At parting the Baron had given me a little plan showing the direction
of the tunnel, the entrance of which he said would be found in a tiny
ravine through which flowed a small river, and had also advised me to
look up particulars of Leatham Priory.
The first discovery I made when I began my investigations was that
Leatham Priory was not in Shropshire at all. It was in fact in
Buckinghamshire, midway between Maidenhead and the small town of
Beaconsfield. It was a remarkable mistake for the good Baron who, as a
sporting man, was well acquainted with England, to have made, or
rather it would have been remarkable, but for my knowledge of our
German characteristics. Naturally his Excellency was as vague as
possible. It was not his business to take risks, and if it should ever
come out that he had told me of Leatham Priory, or if he had been
overheard, how could anyone believe that this sport-racer, who had
dined and slept in almost all the country houses in England, could
make so great a mistake as to place Lord Leatham’s estate in
Shropshire, when it was in Buckinghamshire?
Oh, yes, Heine was alert and wide-awake!
I sent a good friend down into Buckingham (or Bucks as they call it)
to discover what was happening and he brought back the news that Lord
Leatham’s house, the Priory, was being extensively decorated and
refurnished.
Now, I know that the English, because of their fear of Germany, treat
German officer prisoners with the greatest kindness, but I could not
believe, in view of certain outcries in the public press to which I
contributed my share, that they would spend large sums of money to
furnish magnificently a country house for Germans, and I saw that even
as the Herr Baron had been inaccurate in one particular, so was it
likely that he had been wilfully “misinformed” in another.
I bided my time, for I knew that the significance of the Baron’s
communication would be revealed. In the meanwhile, I myself had paid a
visit to the ground and had discovered, not without a great deal of
difficulty, the end of the subterranean passage. It needed some
furtive digging, for the end had fallen in and was entirely covered
up, before I could make sure that I had discovered the entrance.
The day, or rather the very early morning, I wriggled through the
débris and found myself in a small paved tunnel, smelling terribly
musty, was the day on which I understood the purport of the Baron’s
communication. On that day the papers announced that there was to be a
great War Council in London. There had arrived military
representatives of all the Powers, and I, standing in Whitehall, had
seen these officers enter the War Office, where they remained for two
or three hours, when they were escorted by British officers to Downing
Street, where again they remained some time.
At half-past four in the afternoon six great motor-cars drew up in
Whitehall and the members of the Council entered the cars and were
driven off. From the end of Downing Street I saw they turned into St.
James’s Park and, hiring a taxi, I followed, giving the driver
instruction to keep the cars in sight as long as he could. They passed
through the park, up St. James’s Street, and I thought they were going
to their hotel, but instead of this they went straight along
Piccadilly to Hyde Park Corner, where they turned into the park.
Realizing that I could not follow with my taxi, I put my head out of
the window and ordered my driver to go up Park Lane. At the Marble
Arch I picked them up again. They passed along the Bayswater Road and
in a flash their destination was revealed to me. It was in order to
entertain this Council that Lord Leatham’s house had been decorated!
It was here that the real conference was to be held!
It was a breathless, tremendous problem which the Herr Baron had set
me, but I am not a man easily baffled. There is something in our
German nature which rises superior to difficulties and which enables
us to meet the most tremendous problems in a calm spirit of
transcendent perception.
I flew back to my office as fast as the taxi could carry me, and for
an hour my telephone was busy. Understand that whatever risk I ran was
more than justified. For there were men in that Council whose names
were household words, whose faces were familiar even to the child of
the cottager; there were names to conjure with, reputations and
records that would have dazzled and frightened a man of a smaller
calibre than myself.
By twelve o’clock that night two desperate and well-armed men were
exploring the tunnel. They were men who were prepared at the call of
the Fatherland to lay down their lives, yea, even on an enemy’s soil.
I was not one of them.
I was sorely tempted to go, but common prudence dictated that the
brain of the movement should be far removed from the scene of danger.
Apparently the party met with no opposition and traversed the tunnel
which had collapsed in places until they reached the ruins of a flight
of circular stone stairs, which led up to a sort of shaft and
terminated abruptly at a circular stone flag.
In preparation for such an emergency they had brought collapsible
ladders and one of our friends mounted to the top. He could hear
footsteps above him, and I judge that he was in the old baronial
banqueting hall which is celebrated throughout England as the most
perfect type of Norman architecture extant in the country. Its
stone-flagged floor, its vaulted roof, its grim stone fire-place, its
great mullion windows, have been so often described in guide-books
that it is not necessary for me to attempt to rival our good friend
Karl Baedeker.
But every attempt which was made to raise the flagged trap-door, which
undoubtedly existed, was frustrated. I employed in this task one
Hermann Swartz, or, to give him his English name, Herbert Black, a
very skilled member of my staff who was also, curiously enough, a
stone mason. Finding their efforts unavailing, the party made their
way back to London and reported to me.
“I can tell you this, Herr Heine,” said Swartz, with that profound
earnestness which is the charm of the German working man who has no
peer in the world, “that if you let me bring my tools I will guarantee
to open that trap to-night, but I feel in this that I cannot assume
responsibility unless I am directed by a superior officer, and I
suggest that you should come with us.”
“My dear good Swartz,” said I testily, “why should I go with you? You
must understand that it is very necessary that I should not be
identified with any such enterprise as this, that I am the brains of a
great movement and that upon my safety depends, perhaps, the
ever-to-be desired security of the Fatherland.”
Whereupon Swartz (and I regret to have to report this, and have
already notified Berlin of the occurrence) refused to go except under
my leadership.
Having made a most exhaustive inquiry of all the circumstances, and
having discovered that there was very little danger of my detection, I
agreed, and at three o’clock in the morning, behold me crawling
stealthily through a square hole in the banqueting hall of Leatham
Priory. One dim electric light burned in the roof, giving the gaunt
apartment an air of size and mystery. Save along the centre, it was
uncarpeted. The smouldering ashes of a fire still burnt in the big
grate and from somewhere a great clock ticked solemnly. The room was
almost innocent of furniture. There was a long, an interminably long
table set upon the parallelogram of carpet and against this were
pushed about twenty chairs. There were three or four suits of armour,
two big pieces of tapestry covering the principal walls, a black oak
buffet or sideboard, half a dozen easy-chairs about the fire-place
and, so far as I could see, nothing else.
There were four doors leading from the room, two at each end, and I
gathered that those flanking the sideboard would lead to the kitchens
and servants’ apartments, and that the two doors facing them, which
were beautifully carved, and one of which was half hidden by a
portière, would lead to the wing in which Lord Leatham and his guests
were asleep.
I had pulled on felt slippers over my boots and made my quiet way to
the door which was covered by the portière. My objective you may
easily guess. These high nobilities who were visiting Lord Leatham
were members of a Conference, that Conference would be held possibly
in one of the great saloons and the portfolios containing the notes of
the meeting would be found in the high-born lord’s study or office.
I proceeded very stealthily, because I knew that in view of the
presence of such important people, watchers and sentries would be
placed about the house, and in this I was not mistaken, for looking
through one of the long windows--there were half a dozen in the
hall--I could see two policemen walking slowly along a path which ran
parallel with the house.
The only danger was that they would also post watchers inside the
house. As a matter of fact, there were two, but these men were posted
on the next floor, one at each end of a passage leading to the
apartments where the distinguished guests were sleeping. The study I
found after a tiresome search. It was situated in an annex and reached
by another passage which ran at right angles to the main corridor.
The door was fastened by a patent lock which, however, presented no
difficulties to Heinrich Falkenburg, one of my assistants, whose
services I am pleased to acknowledge. I made a very careful
examination of the door with my pocket-lamp and there appeared to be
no wires and no alarm signal.
You may wonder how I came to distinguish the study from the other
rooms. I will tell you. It was the only room that was locked. I opened
the door cautiously and listened for the sound of a bell. We stood for
nearly five minutes before we ventured into the room, and when we did,
we were rewarded. There was only one window and across that heavy
purple velvet curtains had been drawn. There was a large library-table
in the middle on which were several ash-trays filled with cigar ash.
There was no need for me to make this discovery, for the room was
heavy with the scent of cigar smoke and cedar wood.
So, thought I, the excellent plenipotentiaries have met here and not
in the saloon. I looked about and found some scraps of paper in the
waste-paper basket. Some were covered with figures, a few were just
fantastically scrawled designs such as men make when their minds are
occupied and their hands are idle. There were one or two blue books
relating to food supply, but nothing of any great moment, though I
very carefully pocketed all the written matter.