"Well?" he said.

"The ruse was detected, the letter was found and our man was fined
twenty pounds at the police court. It was then that Dr. Grundt decided
to send me...."

"You've got it with you?" the other exclaimed eagerly.

"No, Your Majesty," I said. "I had no means of bringing it away. Dr.
Grundt, on the other hand ..." And I doubled up my leg and touched my
foot.

The Emperor stared at me and the furrow reappeared between his eyes.
Then a smile broke out on his face, a warm, attractive smile, like
sunshine after rain, and he burst into a regular guffaw. I knew His
Majesty's weakness for jokes at the expense of the physical deformities
of others, but I had scarcely dared to hope that my subtle reference to
Grundt's clubfoot as a hiding-place for compromising papers would have
had such a success. For the Kaiser fairly revelled in the idea and
laughed loud and long, his sides fairly shaking.

"Ach, der Stelze! Excellent! Excellent!" he cried. "Plessen, come and
hear how we've diddled the Englander again!"

We were in a long room, lofty, with a great window at the far end, where
the room seemed to run to the right and left in the shape of a T. From
the big writing-desk with its litter of photographs in heavy silver
frames, the little bronze busts of the Empress, the water-colour
sea-scapes and other little touches, I judged this to be the Emperor's
study.

At the monarch's call, a white-haired officer emerged from the further
end of the room, that part which was hidden from my view.

The Kaiser put his hand on his shoulder.

"A great joke, Plessen!" he said, chuckling. Then, to me:

"Tell it again!"

I had warmed to my work now. I gave as drily humorous an account as I
could of Dr. Grundt, fat and massive and podgy, hobbling on board the
steamer at Tilbury, under the noses of the British police, with the
document stowed away in his boot.

The Kaiser punctuated my story with gusty guffaws, and emphasized the
fun of the _denouement_ by poking the General in the ribs.

Plessen laughed very heartily, as indeed he was expected to. Then he
said suavely:

"But has the stratagem succeeded, Your Majesty?"

The monarch knit his brow and looked at me.

"Well, young man, did it work?"

"... Because," Plessen went on, "if so, Grundt must be in Holland. In
that case, why is he not here?"

My heart sank within me. Above all things, I knew I must keep my
countenance. The least sign of embarrassment and I was