E. Phillips Oppenheim - 21 Greatest Spy Thrillers in One Premium Edition (Mystery & Espionage Series)

“What’s your name?” he demanded.

“Behrling—Antoine Behrling,” was the distinctly spoken reply.

“Your papers!”

The man looked up.

“It is not necessary for me to carry papers,” he said. “I am Viennese.”

“You are a Jew,” the other declared angrily.

The diner shrugged his shoulders.

“I am nothing of the sort,” he answered. “I am a Catholic.”

“We’ll see about that!”

Victor came hurrying across the room. It evidently cost him an effort to speak politely.

“This gentleman,” he said, “is a well-known lawyer. His name is Behrling and he is not the kind of person you are looking for at all.”

“How do you know?”

Victor turned away. The man looked after him scowling.

“If you’re a lawyer, why didn’t you say so?” he asked, turning back to the table.

“You did not ask me my profession.”

“Do not leave your place until I give you permission!”

The Nazi swaggered across the room towards where his companions were standing. They had a final look round, discussed Behrling for a moment but the apparent leader of the little band shook his head.

“A lucky night for you, Victor,” one of the younger men remarked.

“Not particularly,” was the quiet reply. “It is not a matter of chance at all. I have no patrons who would be likely to interest you.”

“No impudence!” the sergeant snapped, pointing to a table. “Send us four glasses of beer over there.”

“I regret,” Victor said, “that we do not serve beer in this restaurant.”

“You’ll serve what I order!” was the angry retort.

It was several moments before Victor spoke again. When he did so his voice seemed to have faded away. It was raised scarcely above a whisper. It was none the less impressive.

“We natives and citizens of Vienna,” he said, “are well aware of the danger in which we stand. In a very short time you may be within your rights in forcing your way into a hundred-year-old restaurant and demanding that its rules shall be broken and that you shall occupy a table unbecomingly clothed. But tonight I am still master here. The Chief of the Police of the city has booked a table here to-night and is already due, so you will be able to state your grievances in a few minutes. Until that time comes you will kindly take your leave.”

There was a moment’s hesitation. The situation was beginning to present difficulties.

“What if we order champagne?” one of the men blustered.

“I should still refuse to serve you here as guests,” Victor announced. “I should also warn you that my champagne is very expensive.”

Herr Antoine Behrling seemed to have been entirely forgotten. The four men swaggered out of the place. Victor watched them leave, waiting until he heard the door close behind them. Then he returned, making his way towards his office. Lascelles leaned forward towards him as he passed their bôite . The words of congratulation, however, died away upon his lips. He could see that the restaurateur was still shivering.

“Bravely done, Victor,” he said pleasantly. “We shall enjoy all the more your most wonderful dinner.”

“I have never tasted anything to compare with your young deer,” Mildenhall declared. “As for your Chateau Mouton-Rothschild—it has a fault.”

Nothing could have galvanized Victor more suddenly into his ordinary self.

“It was perhaps a little overwarm?” he suggested anxiously.

“Not in the least, my friend,” his patron assured him. “But for wine drinkers—”

“Yes?”

“One bottle!”

A smile broke across Victor’s lips. He was himself again. He drew a little silver thermometer from his pocket.

“Five minutes, gentlemen. It shall be no longer,” he assured them. “I will guarantee you exactly the same temperature.”

On their way out the Archduke summoned them. He shook hands with both.

“My friend Lascelles I often see,” he remarked. “We play bridge sometimes at the club. You, Mr. Mildenhall, are more of a stranger. I believe, though, that we have met.”

“I have had the honour of dining with you, sir, two years ago, after a shooting party near your Schloss> ,” Mildenhall reminded him.

“Of course I remember,” the Archduke said graciously. “You were staying with the Von Liebenstrahls. I remember remarking how well you young Englishmen shot considering the different conditions over here…Baroness, you must permit me to present my two friends—Mr. Lascelles from the British Embassy and Mr. Mildenhall, whom I heard someone once call a ‘diplomatic vagrant.’”

The Baroness held out her fingers to Lascelles and afterwards received Mildenhall’s bow. Upon Lascelles she bestowed a smile of courtesy. She looked into Charles Mildenhall’s eyes with a different expression. It seemed to him, and he was by no means conceited, that she withdrew her fingers almost with reluctance.

“Mr. Mildenhall does not come often enough to Vienna,” she remarked.

“To-night’s experience tells me that you speak the truth, Baroness,” he replied.

“What does His Highness mean when he calls you a ‘diplomatic vagrant’?” she asked.

“I started life in the Diplomatic Service,” he told her, “but for some years I have been only partially attached.”

“You lack fidelity?”

“Scarcely that, Baroness. I happen to possess a gift which we English, I fear, acquire with too much difficulty. I have the knack of speaking most European languages. Therefore, if there is any small trouble in any one of these countries whose language seems to be brimming over with consonants, I act for our government as messenger boy or peacemaker. The occupation has its advantages, but I can conceive nothing more wonderful than being in my friend Lascelles’ position.”

“And why?” she asked softly.

He leaned a little farther across the table. Certainly hers were the bluest eyes he had ever seen.

“Because I find Vienna the centre of civilization,” he told her. “It possesses the best food, the most wonderful wines and the most beautiful women in the world.”

“And since when,” she persisted, “have you arrived at that conclusion?”

He glanced at his platinum wrist watch.

“Two hours and five minutes ago, Baroness.”

“You are evidently a gourmet,” she smiled. “I noticed that you were taking great interest in those wonderful dishes which were being served at your table.”

“A gesture, Baroness,” he assured her. “When one is so utterly content with one’s surroundings it is necessary, sometimes, to dissemble.”

She leaned back in her place and laughed frankly.

“From now on,” she declared, “I change my opinion of all Englishmen.”

The Archduke grunted.

“Mr. Lascelles,” he said, “you must remove your young friend. I am becoming jealous. Nevertheless, I hope that we shall all meet again before long.”

He waved them graciously away.

“Your opinion is unchanged?” Lascelles asked as he took his friend’s arm outside.

“I still think,” Mildenhall replied, “that she is the most perfectly beautiful creature I have ever seen.”

Table of Contents

The mansion of Leopold Benjamin, more than once the habitation of royalty, was encircled by a railing of iron bars as thick as a man’s wrist, with spiked tops, reaching at least eight feet high. The lodge keeper, who somewhat reluctantly had answered Charles Mildenhall’s summons, took down his name in a book, after which he swung open the great gates and motioned him forward. As far as he could see, when at last he reached the imposing entrance, the whole house on the other side of the huge front door was in complete darkness. He raised the knocker—a massive, wrought-iron affair—after a few moments’ hesitation, and although he could hear the bell, with which it seemed to be connected, ringing somewhere in the realms of darkness beyond, he felt almost inclined to beat a retreat. It was a night of terror in the city. In the far distance he could hear the rat-tat-tat of machine guns and overhead the droning of planes. The streets were rapidly becoming deserted. To present oneself for an informal dinner party when all Vienna was shaken with tremors of fear, seemed a little ridiculous. He was, as a matter of fact, on the point of turning away when he became aware of a sudden blaze of light shining through the windows on either side of him. There were footsteps from within. The door was suddenly opened. A bowing manservant welcomed him and closed the door immediately upon his entrance.