nd could see
no one,--the excitement and hard work of the last few days had
knocked him out. Well, I stood there arguing as pleasantly as I
could about it, and then all of a sudden the door of the inner room
was thrown open. The Chancellor himself stood on the threshold.
There was no doubt about his being ill; his face was as pale as
parchment, his eyes were simply wild, and his hair was all ruffled
as though he had been standing upon his head. He began to talk to
the physician in German. I didn't understand him until he began to
swear,--then it was wonderful! In the end he brushed them all
away and, taking me by the arm, led me right into the inner room.
For a long time he went on jabbering away half to himself, and I
was wondering how on earth to bring the conversation round to the
things I wanted to know about. Then, all of a sudden, he turned to
me and seemed to remember who I was and what I wanted. 'Ah!' he
said, 'you are Dorward, the American journalist. I remember you now.
Lock the door.' I obeyed him pretty quick, for I had noticed they
were mighty uneasy outside, and I was afraid they'd be disturbing
us every moment. 'Come and sit down,' he ordered. I did so at
once. 'You're a sensible fellow,' he declared. 'To-day every one
is worrying me. They think that I am not well. It is foolish. I
am quite well. Who would not be well on such a day as this?' I
told him that I had never seen him looking better in my life, and
he nodded and seemed pleased. 'You have come to hear the truth
about the meeting of my master with the Czar and the Emperor of
Germany?' he asked. 'That's so,' I told him. 'America's more
than a little interested in these things, and I want to know what
to tell her.' Then he leaned across the table. 'My young friend,'
he said, 'I like you. You are straightforward. You speak plainly
and you do not worry me. It is good. You shall tell your country
what it is that we have planned, what the things are that are
coming. Yours is a great and wise country. When they know the
truth, they will remember that Europe is a long way off and that
the things which happen there are really no concern of theirs.'
'You are right,' I assured him,--'dead right. Treat us openly,
that's all we ask.' 'Shall I not do that, my young friend?' he
answered. 'Now look, I give you this.' He fumbled through all his
pockets and at last he drew out a long envelope, sealed at both ends
with black sealing wa