I was now to face Wilhelm II.

It was solely for this purpose that I had come to Berlin. But I knew the great advantage of getting myself vouched for in advance by a third party, and therefore I had been anxious to convince Finkelstein of my identity in the first place, so that his master might accept me without inquiry as to whether I was the man I claimed to be.

I dined quietly in my hotel, a small tavern in a back street. It was getting late, and I was on the point of going to bed, when I heard the noise of a motor rushing up and stopping suddenly outside the little inn.

An aide-de-camp burst in upon me.

“Your name, sir?” he demanded in a whisper.

“Petrovitch,” I replied in the same tone.

“Come this way, if you please.”

In less than a minute I was seated in the car, which was dashing at a really dangerous pace through the nearly deserted streets.

“I am taking you to Potsdam,” was all the explanation my companion thought necessary.

It did not take us long to reach the famous palace of Frederick the Great, which the growth of Berlin has almost turned into a suburban residence.

My conductor brought me past all the sentries and servants, and led me down some steps into what seemed to be a subterranean hall. It was decorated with statues and paintings of the ancestors of Wilhelm II., together with weapons, suits of armor, and banners of the successive periods in which they lived.

But the most striking object in the hall or crypt—for it might have been either—was a trophy erected on a species of altar at one end, exhibiting a variety of crowns.

At the foot were a number of small coronets, representing those worn by the former Margraves of Brandenburg, in whom the Hohenzollern family took its rise. Above were ranged the crowns of the Kings of Prussia, that of Frederick the Great being in the center. Still higher rose the three imperial crowns of Germany, those of William I., Frederick III., and the present Emperor. And then, right on the summit, came a still more gorgeous object, whose like I had never seen before.

It was a colossal miter, somewhat after the fashion of the Papal tiara, wrought out of pure gold, thickly studded with great pearls, and surmounted by a cross.

But I had barely time to notice this singular display. As my guide left me on the threshold of the hall, I was aware that I stood in the presence of the German Emperor.

This extraordinary monarch, whose great and far-reaching views are combined with a type of extravagance which has long made him looked upon as the enfant terrible of Europe, was about to teach me a new side of his character.

He received me seated in a small ivory chair like a throne, and attired in a garment of pontifical design.

“Advance, M. Petrovitch,” he commanded in a loud voice.

As I stood in front of him, he said theatrically,

“I receive you in the Hall of the Hohenzollerns. You see around you the sacred memorials of the family which Providence has raised up to be the saviors of Europe, and the future rulers of the world.”

In response to this invitation I took a longer and more comprehensive view of the various objects already described. The Kaiser condescended to point some of them out to me with a long two-handed sword which he held.

I began to suspect seriously that the megalomania which has always formed one of Wilhelm’s characteristic traits, was overpowering his good sense.

“M. Petrovitch,” my august cicerone proceeded, “you see there the crowns which have been won and worn by my illustrious and never-to-be-forgotten ancestors. Can you guess the meaning of the diadem above—which I have designed myself?

“That,” declared the last and most remarkable of the Hohenzollerns, “is intended to be worn by that member of my Family who shall be called by the united voice of the other sovereigns to the supreme world monarchy. It is destined to be our Planetary Crown.”

I bowed in stupefaction. The Kaiser seemed pleased with the impression he had made.

“And now,” he said, “since it is necessary that I should be sure of you before I trust you with my plans, kneel down.”

I knelt, feeling as if I were in a dream. Wilhelm II. solemnly held out the hilt of his two-handed sword:—

“You swear to yield faith, loyalty and utter obedience now and henceforth to Almighty God, and the Head of the Hohenzollerns!”

It being impossible to refuse the oath in the circumstances, I kissed the sword, with a mental reservation.

Wilhelm II. surprised me by thereupon laying it across my shoulders.

“I dub thee knight of the Sacred Order of the Hohenzollerns! Arise.”

I got up, thoroughly confused. The Emperor invited me to be seated, and proceeded to deliver a harangue—for it was nothing less.

“Bismarck had not sufficient genius to see the destiny of the Hohenzollerns. With the vision of a mere German Junker, he looked on Russia as the enemy.

“It is I who have changed all that. I have taught the Czar to look to me for guidance and protection. Should the present revolutionary movement become dangerous, I shall march at the head of my army to the rescue, and reinstate the Romanoffs as my vassals.

“The only obstacle in the path of the Hohenzollerns is an island which two of my Army Corps could subdue in a fortnight. But in order to invade it with safety, I must have France on my side.

“It is for this end that I have been working. France cherishes a grudge against me because of the glorious exploits of my immortal grandfather. Moreover, my uncle, Edward VII., has contrived to win the friendship of the Republicans.

“But France is the ally of Russia, and if Russia is attacked, France must draw the sword on her behalf.

“You understand?—with the first shot which is fired by a British warship on the Russian flag, I shall be able to invade England.”

I understood indeed. Briefly and plainly Wilhelm II. had summed up the result of my own inquiries and reasonings.

“It is you,” the Emperor proceeded, “who have undertaken to secure this result.”

I bowed, intensely desirous to know exactly what it was that Petrovitch had pledged himself to do.

“I have just rewarded you for the services you have already rendered, by admitting you to my Family Order, an order which I intend shall take precedence of the Golden Fleece, and even the Garter. Should you carry out your present task to my satisfaction I shall consider no reward too great for you.”

I trembled as I listened to this wild vaporing. If such were the private thoughts of the Kaiser, no wonder some of his public utterances smacked of the visionary.

I could not doubt that he was thoroughly in earnest. Long brooding on the greatness of his ancestors, and his own importance as the sole European ruler who has kings for his satellites, had filled him with the fanatical spirit of a Mohammed or a Hildebrand. He believed, firmly and sincerely believed, that Providence had called him to the sovereignty of the globe, and authorized him to sweep every rival out of his path.

“Your majesty overwhelms me,” I murmured. “Consider, sire, that to be your servant is in itself an honor so great that no other reward is necessary.”

The Kaiser smiled graciously.

“Well, now, M. de Petrovitch——” his majesty emphasized the particle by way of reminding me that I was now a knight of the important Order of Hohenzollern—“let us discuss your next step.”

I seized the opportunity to obtain the information I was so anxious to secure.

“I should feel it presumptuous to enter into anything like a discussion with you, sire. If your majesty will be gracious enough to impart your criticism on my proposal?”

Wilhelm II. looked at me as though he found me to be a person of much good sense.

“Your idea, my dear de Petrovitch, as I understand it, is to provoke the British to reprisals by some outrage on the part of the Baltic Fleet during its passage to the Far East.

“Unfortunately, as you must see, the British are determined not to be provoked. Remember what has been done already. You have captured and sunk their ships, in violation of international law; you have sent out volunteer cruisers from the Black Sea in defiance of treaties, and turned back their mail steamers with government stores on board.

“What has been the result? The English Government has complained to yours; the Czar has ordered explanations to be given, and the thing has blown over.

“This time there must be something more than that. There must be something which cannot be explained away. We must if possible place Nicholas II., as well as Great Britain, in a position from which neither can retreat without loss of honor.

“To this end it is necessary that the Baltic Fleet should commit an act of war, and that the Czar should be convinced that the provocation has come from the English side. Do you understand?”

I recalled the hints dropped by Captain Vassileffsky at Revel.

“Your majesty has been informed perhaps that I have caused the officers and men of the Fleet to believe that they will find Japanese torpedo boats lying in wait for them among the English fishing vessels in the North Sea. In consequence, they will be ready to fire without waiting to see if the torpedo boats are really there, especially if the fishermen fail to retire as the Fleet approaches.”

The Kaiser shook his head.

“All that is leaving too much to chance, my good de Petrovitch. What is required is something more positive. In short, the torpedo boats must really be there.”

I lifted my eyes to his.

“There is not a Japanese torpedo boat within ten thousand miles of the North Sea, unfortunately.”

Wilhelm II. smiled a meaning smile.

“If that is all, we must so far forget the duties of neutrality as to allow the friends of Japan to procure a craft suitable for the purpose from our dockyard at Kiel.”