In the afternoon, before going on board, Heideck hired a comfortable little one-horsed carriage and drove to Napier mole, where an elegant sailing-boat, manned by four lascars, was placed at their disposal at the Sind Club boathouse. They sailed through the harbour protected by three powerful forts, past Manora Point, the furthest extremity of the fortified mole, into the Arabian Sea.
“Really, it is hard to leave this wonderful land,” said Heideck seriously. “It is hard to take leave for ever of this brilliant sun, this glittering sea, and these mighty works of men’s hands, which have introduced luxury and the comforts of a refined civilisation into a natural paradise. I have never understood Mr. Kennedy’s sorrow better than at this moment. And I can sympathise with the feeling of bitterness which makes him shut himself up in his room, to avoid the further sight of all this enchanting and splendid magnificence.”
Edith, clinging to his arm and looking up fondly into his face only answered, “I only see the world as it is reflected in your eyes. And there its beauty is always the same to me.”
XXII
THE ETHICS OF ESPIONAGE
The steamer from Karachi to Bombay had about twenty officers and a larger number of noncommissioned officers and men on board who had been wounded in the first engagements on the frontier. The sight of them was not calculated to relieve the gloomy feelings of the English travellers, although during the three days of the voyage the weather was magnificent as they proceeded through the bright, blue sea along the west coast of India, so lavishly supplied with the beauties of Nature.
The harbour of Bombay, one of the most beautiful in the world, presented a singularly altered appearance to those who had seen it on previous visits. There was a complete absence of the French, German, and Russian merchantmen, which usually lay at anchor in considerable numbers; besides English steamers there were only a few Italian and Austrian vessels in the roadstead.
The steamer from Karachi cast anchor not far from the Austrian Lloyd steamer Imperatrix, from Trieste, and the passengers were taken from the Apollo Bandar in small boats to the landing-stage.
Heideck took up his quarters with his new English friends at the Esplanade Hotel. The admirably conducted house was well known to him, since he had stayed there a few days on his arrival in India. But the appearance of the hotel had altered during the interval as completely as that of the European quarter of the city, from which all life seemed to have disappeared. The ravages of the plague might have had something to do with it, but the main cause was the war, which made its presence felt in the absence of various elements of life which at other times were especially remarkable.
Formerly the meeting-place of fashionable society, nearly all its guests at the present time were connected with the army; the few ladies were in mourning, and an oppressive silence prevailed during meals.
Mr. Kennedy, immediately on his arrival, had paid a visit to the Governor in Heideck’s interest and returned with good news. He had obtained permission for the young German to leave India by the Caledonia, which was starting in a few days with a considerable number of sick and wounded officers. The route to be taken was the usual one by Aden and Port Said. Those passengers who intended to travel further by the railway would be landed at Brindisi, the destination of the steamer being Southampton.
“So we shall have the pleasure of your company as far as Brindisi,” said Mr. Kennedy, turning to Heideck. The latter bowed, to show the old gentleman that he had interpreted his intentions correctly.
An expression of violent alarm overspread Edith’s face, when the contradiction which she might assuredly have expected did not follow. She got up to go to her room, but, passing close by Heideck, she found an opportunity to whisper, “To-night on the balcony! I must speak to you!”
After dinner Heideck and Mr. Kennedy sat smoking on the terrace in front of the dining-room. A warm sea-breeze rustled through the banyan trees, with their thick, shining arch of foliage. Heideck again thanked the old gentleman for his kindly efforts on his behalf.
“I have only repaid to a very moderate extent all you have done for us,” replied Mr. Kennedy. “Besides, there was no difficulty in the matter. I told the Governor that you were a German and a friend of my family, who had rendered most valuable service to an English lady and myself. Certainly, I thought that I might with a good conscience say nothing about your being a soldier, which might easily have caused all kinds of difficulties. With all my patriotism, I do not reproach myself very severely for this reticence. For what military secrets could you disclose in Berlin? Our disasters are plain for all to see, and the papers are filled with news and conjectures.”
“Certainly. The real purpose of my journey has been overtaken by events and rendered pointless.”
“And this object—if I may speak without mincing words—was espionage. Is not that the case, Mr. Heideck?”
“Espionage in the same sense that the despatch of ambassadors, ministers plenipotentiary, and military or naval attaches is espionage,” replied Heideck, visibly annoyed.
“Oh, I think there is a slight difference in their case. All these gentlemen’s names and duties are known beforehand, and they are expressly accredited in their character of diplomatists.”
“Mr. Kennedy, I could never think of justifying myself to you, for I have not the least reason to be ashamed of my mission. The military authorities of every country must have information as to the military condition of other powers, even though war is not definitely expected or contemplated. In order to be equipped against all eventualities, it is necessary to know the forces and resources of other powers, no matter whether, in case of war, they would be enemies or allies.”
Mr. Kennedy, evidently irritated, replied: “It almost seems as if we English had grossly neglected this precaution. The Russians would hardly have surprised us, if we had known how to calculate with German astuteness.”
“Well, I hardly believe that the English method in this respect is different from ours. Your Government, like the German, doubtless sent officers everywhere to obtain information. Just as the General Staff in Berlin collects information about all foreign armies, fortifications, and boundaries, I have no doubt that the same thing happens in London. Besides, it is a purely theoretical procedure, just like the drawing up of schemes of war to suit all cases. In reality, things usually turn out quite differently from what is expected. The present war is the most convincing proof of this. I was sent here to study the Anglo-Indian army and the Russo-Indian frontiers, although we had no presentiment that war was imminent, and had made no plans for attacking India. The folly of such an idea is obvious. Further, if you regard me as a spy, Mr. Kennedy, I beg you will have no scruple about informing the Governor of my real character. I am ready at any time to justify myself before the English authorities.”
Mr. Kennedy held out his hand to him.
“You have misunderstood me, my dear Mr. Heideck. Your personal honour is to me so far beyond all doubt, that I should never think for a moment of putting you on a level with those spies who are tried for their lives when caught.”
At this moment one of the barefooted waiters, dressed in white, came running and shouting into the saloon, “Great victory near Delhi! total defeat of the Russian army!” at the same time triumphantly waving a printed paper in his hand.