The Pawns Count Part 28

"The destinies of nations," Baron von Schwerin exclaimed, "are above the man-made laws of a sentimental religion! One needs, nowadays, more than to survive. It is necessary to flourish."

Nikasti stood suddenly to attention.

"It is Mr. Van Teyl who returns," he warned them.

He glided from the room, shaking out a little the dress coat which he had been carrying. The two men looked after him. Fischer threw his cigar savagely away and lit another.

"Curse these orientals!" he muttered. "They listen and listen, and one never knows. Van Teyl won't be here for hours. That was just an excuse to get away."

But there was a smile of triumph on Von Schwerin's lips.

"I know them better than you do, Fischer," he declared. "Nikasti is our man!"

CHAPTER XIX

High up in one of the topmost chambers of the Hotel Plaza, Nikasti, after his conference with Von Schwerin and Fischer, sought solitude. He opened the high windows, out of which he could scarcely see, dragged up a chest of drawers and perched himself, Oriental fas.h.i.+on, on the top, his long yellow fingers intertwined around his knees, his soft brown eyes gazing over the wooded slopes of the Park. He was away from the clamour of tongues, from the poisoned clouds of sophistry, even from the disturbance of his own thoughts, incited by specious arguments to some form of reciprocity. Here he sat in the clouds and searched for the true things. His eyes seemed to be travelling over the battlefields of Europe. He saw the swaying fortunes of mighty armies, he looked into council chambers, he seemed to feel the pulses of the great world force which kept going this most amazing Juggernaut. He saw the furnaces of j.a.pan, blazing by night and day; saw the forms of hundreds of thousands of his fellow creatures bent to their task; saw the streams of s.h.i.+ps leaving his ports, laden down with stores; saw the great guns speeding across Siberia, the endless trains of ammunition, the rifles, food for the famine-stricken giants who beat upon the air with empty fists. He saw the gold come streaming back. He saw it poured into the banks, the pockets of the merchants, the homes of his people. He saw brightening days throughout the land. He saw the slow but splendid strength of the nation rejoicing in its new possibilities. And beyond that, what?

Wealth was the great means towards the great end, but if the great end were once lost sight of, there was no more hideous poison than that stream of enervating prosperity. He remembered his own diatribes concerning the decadence of England; how he had pointed to the gold poison, to the easy living of the poor, the blatant luxury of the rich.

He had pointed to the soft limbs, the cities which had become pools of sensuality, to the daily life which, calling for no effort, had seen the pa.s.sing of the spirit and the triumph of the gross. And what about his own people? Mankind was the same the world over. The gold which was bringing strength and life to the nation might very soon exude the same poisonous fumes, might very soon be laying its thrall upon a people to whom living had become an easier thing. However it might be for other, the Western nations, for his own he firmly believed that war alone, with its thousand privations, its call to the chivalry of his people, was the one great safeguard. China! The days had gone by when the taking of China could inspire. It was to greater things they must look.

Australia. New Zealand! Had any Western race the right to flaunt her Empire's flag in Asiatic seas? And America! Once again he felt the slow rising of wrath as he recalled the insults of past years ... the adventurous sons of his country treated like savages and negroes by that uncultured, strong-limbed race of coa.r.s.e-fibered, unimaginative materialists. There was a call, indeed, to the soul of his country to avenge, to make safe, the homes and lives of her colonists. Across the seas he looked into the council chambers of the wise men of his race.

He saw the men whose word would tell. He watched their faces turned towards him, waiting; heard the beginning of the conflict of thoughts and minds--blind fidelity to the cause which they had espoused, or a rougher, more splendid, more selfish stroke for the greatness of j.a.pan and j.a.pan only. "If we break our faith we lose our honour," one murmured. "There is no honour save the care of my people," he heard one of his greatest countrymen reply.

So he sat and thought, revolved in his mind arguments, morals, philosophy. It was the problem which had confronted the great Emperor, his own ancestor, who had lived for three months on the floor of the Temple, asking but one question of the Silent Powers: "Through what gate shall I lead my nation to greatness?"

The senses of the man who crouched in his curious att.i.tude, with his eyes still piercing the heavens, were mobile and extraordinary things.

No disturbing sounds had reached him from outside. His isolation seemed complete and impregnable. Yet, without turning his head, he was perfectly conscious of the slow opening of the door. His whole frame stiffened. He was conscious for one bitter second of a lapse from the careful guarding of his ways. That second pa.s.sed, however, and left him prepared even for danger, his brain and muscles alike tense. He turned his head. The expression of slow surprise, which even parted his lips and narrowed his eyes, was only half a.s.sumed.

"What do you wish?" he asked.

Lutchester did not for a moment reply. He had closed the door behind him carefully, and was looking around the room now with evident interest. Its bareness of furniture and decoration were noteworthy, but on the top of the ugly chest of drawers was a great bowl of roses, a queer little ivory figure set in an arched frame of copper--a figure almost sacerdotal, with its face turned towards the east--and a little shower of rose leaves, which could scarcely have fallen there by accident, at the foot of the pedestal. Lutchester inclined his head gravely, as he looked towards it, a gesture entirely reverential, almost an obeisance. Nikasti's eyes were clouded with curiosity. He slipped down to the ground.

"I have travelled in your country," Lutchester said gravely, as though in explanation. "I have visited your temples. I may say that I have prayed there."

"And now?" Nikasti asked.

"I am for my country what you are for yours," Lutchester proceeded.

"You see, I know when it is best to speak the truth. I am in New York because you are in New York, and if you leave on Sat.u.r.day for j.a.pan it may happen--of this I am not sure--but I say that it may happen that I shall accompany you."

"I shall be much honoured," Nikasti murmured.

"You came here," Lutchester continued, "to meet an emissary from Berlin. Your country, which could listen to no official word from any one of her official enemies, can yet, through you, learn what is in their minds. You have seen to-day Fischer and the Baron von Schwerin.

Fischer has probably presented to you the letter which he has brought from Berlin. Von Schwerin has expounded further the proposition and the price which form part of his offer."

Nikasti's face was imperturbable, but there was trouble in his eyes.

"You have found your way to much knowledge,", he muttered.

"I must find my way to more. I must know what Germany offers you. I must know what is at the back of your mind when you repeat this offer in Tokio."

"You can make, then, the unwilling speak?" Nikasti demanded.

"Even that is amongst the possibilities," Lutchester affirmed. "Strange things have been done for the cause which such as you and I revere."

Nikasti showed his white teeth for a moment in a smile meant to be contemptuous.

"It is a great riddle, this, which we toss from one to the other," he observed. "I am the simple valet of two gentlemen living in the hotel.

You have listened, perhaps, to fairy tales, or dreamed them yourself, sir."

"It is no fairy tale," Lutchester rejoined, "that you are Prince Nikasti, the third son of the great Marquis Ato, that you and I met more than once in London when you were living there some years ago; that you travelled through our country, and drew up so scathing an indictment of our domestic and industrial position that, but for their clumsy diplomacy, your country would probably have made overtures to Germany. Ever since those days I have wondered about you. I have wondered whether you are with your country in her friends.h.i.+p towards England."

"I have no friends but my country's friends," Nikasti declared, "no enemies save her enemies. But to-day those things of which you have spoken do not concern me. I am the j.a.panese valet of Mr. Fischer and Mr. Van Teyl."

Lutchester, as though by accident, came a step further into the room.

Nikasti's eyes never left his face. Perhaps at that moment each knew the other's purpose, though their tongues clung to the other things.

"Will you talk to me, j.a.pan?" Lutchester asked calmly. "You have listened to Germany. I am England."

"If you have anything to say," Nikasti replied, "Baron Yung is at Was.h.i.+ngton."

"You and I know well," Lutchester continued, "that amba.s.sadors are but the figureheads in the world's history. Speak to me of the things which concern our nations, Nikasti. Tell me of the letter you bear to the Emperor. You have nothing to lose. Sit down and talk to me, man to man.

You have heard Germany. Hear England. Tell me of the promises made to you within the last hour, and I will show you how they can never be kept. Let us talk of your country's future. You and I can tell one another much."

"A valet knows nothing," Nikasti murmured.

Lutchester came a step nearer. Nikasti, in retreating, was now almost in a corner of the room.

"Listen," Lutchester went on, "for many years I have suspected that you are an enemy of my country. That is the reason why, when our Intelligence Department learnt of your mission, I chose to come myself to meet you. And now we meet, Nikasti, face to face, and all that you are willing to do for your country, I am willing to do for mine, and unless you sit down and talk this matter out with me as man to man, you will not leave New York."

The arm of the j.a.panese stole with the most perfect naturalness inside his coat, and Lutchester knew then that the die was cast. The line of blue steel flashed out too late. The hand which gripped the strangely-shaped little knife was held as though in a vice, and Lutchester's other arm was suddenly thrown around the neck of his a.s.sailant, his fingers pressed against his windpipe.

"Drop the knife," he ordered.

It fell clattering on to the hard floor. Nikasti, however, twisted himself almost free, took a flying leap sideways, and seized his adversary's leg. In another moment he came down upon the floor with a crash. Lutchester's grip upon him, a little crueller now, was like a band of steel.

"There are many ways of playing this game. It is you who have chosen this one," he said. "It's no use, Nikasti. I know as much of your own science as you do. You're my man now until I choose to let you free, and before I do that I am going to read the letter which you are taking to j.a.pan."

Nikasti's eyes were red with fury, but every movement was torture.

Lutchester held him easily with one hand, felt over him with the other, drew the letter from his vest, and, shaking it free from its envelope, held it out and read it. When he had finished, he replaced it in the envelope and pushed it back into the other's breast pocket.

"Now," he directed, "you can get up."

Nikasti scrambled to his feet. There were livid marks under his eyes.

For a moment he had lost all his vitality, he was like a beaten creature.

"You would never have done this," he muttered, "ten years ago, I grow old."