THE YELLOW DOVE
“Come, sit down. Let’s forget that we are parts of the intricate machinery of State. Here is a cigar. Smoke. It will do you good.”
Von Winden, flattered by this mark of condescension, obeyed.
“You are glad?” von Stromberg asked.
“Yes, Excellenz. I am glad. It is not the kind of thing one wants to be worried about—one’s own flesh and blood. But I knew there must have been a mistake.”
General von Stromberg puffed his smoke toward the ceiling and stretched his long legs upon the floor.
“It is very curious. I am not sure that I understand. Herr Rizzio is a careful man and he has much at stake. Why should your cousin Hammersley have refused to take cognizance of his credentials?”
“He had doubtless good reasons of his own. But since he will soon be here he will answer your questions himself. The fact that he comes at all, Excellenz, should be proof of his loyalty.”
“Yes,” said the General thoughtfully. “That should be true. One doesn’t thrust one’s head into the lion’s mouth for the mere pleasure of examining his teeth. Who sent this message?”
“General von Betzdorf.”
“There were no other wireless communications?”
“None, Excellenz. But Stammer should reach Wilhelmshaven tonight.”
The General smoked silently for a moment, and then:
“Herr Hammersley’s mother was a Prussian?”
“Yes, Excellenz, a sister of my mother”
“Yes, I remember now. Von Eppingen” the
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