LITMIR.BIZ

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informatory words as can be managed." "Invariably make your answer meet the Imperial wishes." "Never contradict," were the Grand Master's instructions, and the scientific men abiding by them soon found themselves in clover, because they were "useful," while the rest were discarded.

      In particular, experts in chemistry were exploited by the War Lord. "They must help to feed my army and people" – in case war lasts longer than expected. "They must invent new weapons of destruction" – for while powder and lead are well enough in their way, they do not spell the end of things.

      German scientific men are very fond of power and have an enormous idea of their own importance, but their notions are subject to fits of extravagant humility if policy, or personal advantage, can be served by Uriah Heepisms. The keener ones in the Imperial entourage found that it would pay to cater to the mobility in the War Lord's ideas while there was a certain degree of logic. And if, perchance, he happened to drop into incoherency or extravagance, was it the professor's business to set him right? Court usage registered an emphatic negative.

      Such were the beginnings of the partnership between War Lordism and the perversion of German science into an instrument of destruction. "Science to the rescue of the lame and halt" – an out-of-date notion. Science makes them by the hundreds of thousands.

      The professors were powerful assistants to the War Lord in maintaining his grip on the Krupp throat and acquiring further business concessions from the firm; but, of course, as to realising the technical chimeras of the War Lord's mind with respect to new-fangled war machinery, there was more pretence than activity, for dividends had to be considered, and the War Lord would have been the first to make an outcry if his earnings were reduced by the fraction of a per cent.

      Franz maintained his position as chief experimenter, and, his expert judgment in gunmaking as well as in electricity being unquestioned, he was able openly to frustrate some of the War Lord's most bloodthirsty plans by proving them impracticable to the satisfaction of the board of directors, which put a stop to their execution for the time at least.

      "Uncle Majesty is very wroth with you," said Bertha to her relative one evening, when the War Lord had returned to Berlin after one of his unofficial visits to the Ruhr metropolis. He was in the habit of coming to Essen every little while now, unheralded and incog. Likewise in mufti; and what discarding of regimentals and associated fripperies meant to him few people can imagine.

      His uniforms are built to make him appear taller and more imposing, while affording a ready background for all sorts of decorative material – ribbons, scarfs, stars, crosses and medals galore.

      "Wroth with me?" queried Franz.

      "Yes, with you," replied the child; "and I heard him dictate a long letter, giving you a terrible talking to. I just signed it," added Bertha with a satisfied grin.

      "And why am I hauled over the coals?" asked Franz.

      "I'm sure I don't know," replied the child. "'One of the things little girls cannot understand,' said Uncle Majesty. But I do know that you must – I said must– not do it again. I won't let you, do you hear? I mean Uncle Majesty won't."

      Franz raised his hat and knocked his heels together, military fashion. He was about to withdraw when Bertha caught him by the arm. "You are not angry with me, Franz?" she pleaded.

      "No, my chief."

      "Say 'no, liebe Bertha.'"

      "No, liebe Bertha."

      At this moment a messenger caught up with the two young people on the road to Villa Huegel and handed Franz an official-looking envelope. The engineer looked inquiringly at Bertha. "May I?"

      Instead of answer the Krupp heiress picked up her skirts with both hands and ran towards the house.

      Her letter informed Franz that the task of completing the Belgian guns had been entrusted to other hands. Secondly, that, in future, communications about experiments ordered by the War Lord must be addressed to the heiress direct, not to the board of directors.

      CHAPTER V

      HOW THE WAR LADY WAS CAJOLED

      An Intoxication of Vanity – Barbara's Plain Words – A Shameful Memory

      The Imperial Chief-Court-and-House Marshal, Count Eulenburg, has the honour to command Fraulein Bertha Krupp to attend upon their Imperial and Royal Majesties, His Majesty the Emperor and King, and Her Majesty the Empress and Queen, during the Christmas and New Year's festivities at the Schloss, Berlin.

      A royal equipage will await Fraulein Krupp's pleasure at the station, meeting the early morning train of December 22nd.

      Dress: Silks, Velvets and Laces.

      Attendance: Wardrobe mistress and maid; A footman.

      The invitation, copperplated on an immense sheet of rather cheap paper and sent through the mail free, created much excitement in Villa Huegel, the more so as it was wholly unexpected, the War Lord never having intimated that an honour of that kind was in store for his godchild.

      In the meantime Bertha had risen to the dignity of opening her own letters and using her discretion as to divulging their contents, or not, as she saw fit, or rather as the War Lord saw fit. This was strictly opposed to native custom; but isn't the King above the law? And certain reports, such as those ordered to be addressed to Bertha direct – Franz's for instance – All-Highest wouldn't have communicated to any save himself, not even to Frau Krupp. Hence his command that the Krupp heiress keep her own counsel in regard to her correspondence.

      Bertha broke the great seal of the Court Marshal's office and her eyes became luminous as she read the printed words and angular script. She sat staring at the latter for a minute or two, while the Baroness, chafing under her impotency, pretended to be busy with an orange. Finally Barbara tiptoed behind her sister's chair and looked over her shoulder. The fourteen-year-old girl being well up in Court lore – having seen dozens of such letters addressed to her late father – applied herself to the essentials, skipping the merely decorative lines.

      "Christmas and New Year's festivities at the Schloss, Berlin," she read aloud. Then higher up: "Fraulein Bertha Krupp."

      "Oh, Mamma!" she cried, "we are not invited, you and I. Isn't that mean of Uncle Majesty?" She stamped her foot. "But he shan't kiss me when he comes again – see if I let him kiss me."

      "Hold your tongue, naughty child."

      Bertha spoke with an air of unwonted authority. She folded up her letter.

      "Just see how high and mighty we are!" mimicked Barbara. "'Naughty child,' and what are you? I shouldn't wonder if Uncle Majesty spanked you sometimes, when you are alone with him; you always come away full of humility to him and of arro – arro – " (she couldn't find the word) "the other thing to us – to Mamma and me, I mean."

      The Baroness put out her arm as if she expected the children to resort to fisticuffs. "Barbara," she called half pleadingly.

      "She will go to her room," insisted Bertha, ringing. The butler responded so promptly that there was no doubt he had been listening behind the portières.

      "Fraulein Barbara's governess," Bertha ordered. And as the man was going out: "My secretary shall report at once in my council room."

      "Are you mad?" cried Frau Krupp, when the curtains had dropped behind the servant. Bertha seemed so unlike herself – unlike what her child ought to be.

      The Krupp heiress disdained to answer.

      "Since I am to be their Imperial and Royal Majesties' guest, I must prepare for the honour," she deigned after a little while; "in half an hour I'll leave for Cologne. You may accompany me, if you like, Mother."

      The Baroness grew white under the lash of Bertha's patronising tone. "You shall not go," she said hotly.

      "If you will come to the council room you can see in black and white my authority to go where and when I please," replied Bertha, going out.

      Barbara and her mother looked at each other in blank amazement, the child not understanding, the mother understanding but too well. Bertha was

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