But a
statesman he was for all that, and the Emperor and Germany miss him
sorely. I would have taken him for a Boer Dopper or an English
yeoman. This suggestion was supported by his atrocious taste in fancy
waistcoats. The one he had on still sticks in my memory. It was a
lurid peach-blossom creation, spotted with green. But once his
steel-gray, deerhound eyes looked you up and down you forgot all about
the fancy waistcoat and got right down to business. I told his
Excellency I had come for his personal instructions.
Besides telling me to "halt my maul" (a German military expression
literally meaning to keep your mouth shut, but implying the need for
utmost secrecy) he gave me certain general instructions. But from
them I could gain no idea of just what was going to happen. I could
only guess. How big was the gathering storm he never even hinted.
Remembering von Wedel's suggestion about the hunting party, I procured
some guns and reached the station in time to catch the 12.30 express
for Schlangenbad.
It was early in October when I went to the Kur Hotel and registered as
Herr Bamberger from Berlin. If you ever go to Schlangenbad, look up
the register. Schlangenbad is a mineral watering place in Prussia,
near the Black Forest, and within easy distance of our ultimate
meeting place, the hunting lodge that von Wedel had mentioned.
I was alone at the hotel for several days.
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