He pretended to be weighing the matter.
“Suppose you do steal the letter by force, do you think you can make me write a report?”
“No, a voluntary report would be desirable but not necessary. You left with the Princess, you will remember, a page of directions and information about America to guide her in the trip she is preparing to make and from which we hope to dissuade her. You appended your signature and address. From this it will be easy to draft a report in handwriting so similar to yours as to be indistinguishable by ordinary eyes.”
“You add forgery to your many accomplishments.”
“In the pursuit of our duty, we do not hesitate at theft or forgery.”
Still Matthew parried: “Suppose,” he said, “I pretended to acquiesce, gave you the letter and reported to the Princess. Suppose even I told the German newspapers of what I have seen and heard tonight.”
There was a faraway look in the eyes of the Japanese as he answered slowly: “We must follow Fate, my dear Mr. Towns, even if Fate leads—to murder. We will not let you communicate with the Princess, and you are leaving Berlin tonight.”
The Indians gave a low sigh almost like relief.
Matthew straightened and spoke slowly and firmly.
“Very well. I won’t surrender that letter to anybody but the Princess—not while I’m alive. And if I go out of here dead I won’t be the only corpse.”
Every eye was on the Japanese, and Matthew knew his life was in the balance. The pause was tense; then came the patient voice of the Japanese again.
“You—admire the Princess, do you not?”
“With all my heart.”
The Indians winced.
“You would do her a service?”
“To the limit of my strength.”
“Very well. Let us assume that I am wrong. Assume that the Negroes are worth freedom and ready to fight for it. Can you not see that the name of this young, beautiful, and highborn lady must under no circumstances be mixed up with them, whether they gain or lose? What would not Great Britain give thus to compromise an Indian ruler?”
“That is for the Princess to decide.”
“No! She is a mere woman—an inexperienced girl. You are a man of the world. For the last time, will you rescue her Royal Highness from herself?”
“No. The Princess herself must decide.”
“Then—”
“Then,” said the Princess’ full voice, “the Princess will decide.” She stood in the open doorway, the obsequious and scared landlord beside her with his passkeys. She had thrown an opera cloak over her evening gown, and stood unhatted, white-slippered, and ungloved. She threw one glance at the Indians, and they bowed low with outstretched hands, She stamped her foot angrily, and they went to their knees. She wheeled to the Arab. Without a word, he stalked out. The Japanese alone remained, calm and imperturbable.
“We have failed,” he said, with a low bow.
The Princess looked at him.
“You have failed,” she said. “I am glad there is no blood on your hands.”
“A drop of blood more or less matters little in the great cause for which you and I fight, and if I have incurred your Royal Highness’ displeasure tonight, remember that, for the same great cause, I stand ready tomorrow night to repeat the deed and seal it with my life.”
The Princess looked at him with troubled eyes. Then she seated herself in the only and rather rickety chair and motioned for her two subjects to arise. Matthew never forgot that scene: he, collarless and in shirt sleeves, with sweat pouring off his face; the room in disorder, mean, narrow, small, and dingy; the Japanese standing in the same place as when he entered, in unruffled evening dress; the Indians on their knees with hidden faces; the Princess, disturbed, yet radiant. She spoke in low tones.
“I may be wrong,” she said, “and I know how right, but infinitely and calmly right, you usually are. But some voice within calls me. I have started to fight for the dark and oppressed peoples of the world; now suddenly I have seen a light. A light which illumines the mass of men and not simply its rulers, white and yellow and black. I want to see if this thing is true, if it can possibly be true that wallowing masses often conceal submerged kings. I have decided not simply to send a messenger to America but shortly to sail myself perhaps this week on the Gigantic. I want to see for myself if slaves can become men in a generation. If they can—well, it makes the world new for you and me.”
The Japanese started to speak, but she would not pause:
“There is no need for protest or advice. I am going. Mr. Towns will perform his mission as we agreed, if he is still so minded, and as long as he is in Europe, these two gentlemen,” she glanced at the Indians, “will bear his safety on their heads, at my command. Go!”
The Indians bowed and walked out slowly, backward. She turned to the Japanese.
“Your Highness, I bid you good night and goodbye. I shall write you.”
Gravely the Japanese kissed her hand, bowed, and withdrew. The Princess looked at Matthew. He became acutely conscious of his appearance as she looked at him almost a full minute with her great, haunting eyes.
“Thank you, again,” she said slowly. “You are a brave man—and loyal.” She held out her hand, low, to shake his.
But the tension of the night broke him; he quivered, and taking her hand in both his, kissed it.
She rose quickly, drew herself up, and looked at first almost affronted; then when she saw his swimming eyes, a kind of startled wonder flashed in hers. Slowly she held out her hand again, regally, palm down and the long fingers drooping.
“You are very young,” she said.
He was. He was only twenty-five. The Princess was all of twenty-three.
Part II
The Pullman Porter
September to December, 1923
Fall. Fall of leaf and sigh of wind. Gasp of the world-soul before, in crimson, gold,
