Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 (54 page)

The Hungarian statesman
made no secret of the fact that he was at loggerheads with all his colleagues,
and desperately worried by their attitude. It was, he explained, his unhappy
sense of isolation that had given him the idea of talking matters over with the
Duke, as a man with wide knowledge of international affairs who was
unprejudiced by any official connections and entirely to be trusted.

Mentally, De Richleau
squirmed at the last portion of this statement, and he would far rather not
have been made the recipient of his friend’s confidences. But, short of giving
himself away, there was no means of avoiding that; so he listened with the most
sympathetic attention while the Count went on to disclose the cause of his
terrible anxieties.

On 1st July Count
Berchtold had informed him that he meant to make ‘the horrible deed at Sarajevo
the occasion for a reckoning with Serbia’. Tisza had objected, warning the
Foreign Minister of the measureless consequences that might follow such a fatal
mistake. He had also written to the Emperor, pointing out that the
participation of the Serbian Government had not been proved, and that if they
could furnish satisfactory explanations the Dual Monarchy would be exposed
before the world as a war-monger, and possibly have to enter on a great war
with everybody’s sympathies against her. He had insisted on a proper inquiry
being made, stressed the possibility of Rumania joining Serbia, and advocated
the taking of immediate steps for entering into an alliance with Bulgaria as a
vital precaution against the Rumanians coming in. Finally, he had dwelt upon
the appalling danger that Russia might seize the chance to attack them, and
Germany leave them in the lurch.

The only satisfaction he
had got was the Emperor’s decision to await the result of the inquiry before
agreeing to any drastic step. But in the meantime Berchtold was pressing for
immediate punitive action against Serbia, and von Hötzendorf for permission to
mobilize so that he could launch a full-scale war. That day Count Hoyos had
given an interview to a German publicist who was in close touch with Herr von
Jagow, the German Foreign Minister, and had received unofficial but weighty
assurances that Austria could count on German support on the following grounds:

Over a long period of
years the German army had been built up to a marvellous pitch of perfection,
but its sword was rusting in its scabbard, and the Generals feared that if it
were not used soon it might show signs of serious deterioration. The German
Foreign Office was satisfied that England was not in a mood to fight, so
considered the moment for war propitious, and that if Austria-Hungary failed to
assert herself in this dispute with a small nation, she would be finished as a
great power. However, the last word remained with the Kaiser. Ambitious as he was
by nature, in previous crises he had shown a reluctance to go to extremes. But
this case was exceptional. Not only was he boiling with rage at the murder of
his personal friends, Franz Ferdinand and his wife, but he regarded the attack
as one calling for prompt chastisement as a deterrent to similar ones being
made on other royalties. Therefore, if he was approached without delay, there
were excellent grounds for believing that, on this occasion, he would back
Austria to the point of war.

Tschirschky, the German
Ambassador at Vienna, had, at first, appeared much more pacific minded, and had
counselled moderation; but he had later received a reprimand from Berlin for
interfering in what was not his business, and had then been instructed
officially to inform the Emperor that the Kaiser would stand behind every firm
decision made by his ally.

Nothing could have been
better calculated to encourage the Austrian
war
-mongers; but it was still
considered imperative to secure a categorical declaration that Germany would
support Austria by force of arms; so on the 4th Count Hoyos had been sent to
Berlin. With him he had taken a document proposing steps to be taken for the
inclusion of Bulgaria in the Triple Alliance and a letter from the Emperor to
the Kaiser urging the necessity for chastising Serbia, and asking for German
approval of such an act, whatever its consequences might be.

On the 5th, Hoyos had
handed his letter to Count Sz
ö
gy
é
nv,
the
Austro
-
Hungarian
Ambassador, for delivery to the Kaiser. When William II was informed of the
dispatch, he invited the Ambassador to lunch at Potsdam. After the meal he at
first said he must consult his Chancellor, Herr von Bethmann-Hollweg; but later
he impulsively disclosed his own views. He did not think that an Austrian
attack on Serbia would precipitate a European conflict. His information led him
to believe that neither France nor Russia were prepared for war and he felt
certain that the Czar would not associate himself with the murderers of
princes. If the Dual Monarchy felt impelled to march into Serbia he advised
that such action should not be long delayed. She would have his blessing, and
whatever might follow he was fully prepared to stand by her.

Count Hoyos had come
hurrying back from Berlin in triumph, and a Cabinet meeting had been called for
noon on the 7th. At it had been Count St
ü
rgkh,
the Minister-President of Austria, Counts Tisza, Berchtold and Hoyos, Krobatin
and Bilinski, the War and Finance Ministers, Admiral von Kailer and General
Conrad von Hötzendorf.

When Berchtold announced
the news that Hoyos had brought, with the one exception of Count Tisza the
others could hardly contain themselves for excitement and delight. For years
they had watched internal dissension weaken the Empire, and the potential
enemies who ringed it in on every border, except that with Germany, become
stronger and more menacing. Now they had something for which they had never
really dared to hope—a blank cheque on the whole might of Imperial Germany with
only one condition attached—that they should use it soon.

As Count Tisza described
to the Duke this Cabinet meeting of the previous day his strong face was
harrowed with distress. He had protested that he would never consent to a
surprise attack on Serbia without previous diplomatic action, and that such a
project should never have been discussed in Berlin. He had argued that such an
attack would lead to their being branded as aggressors by the whole of Europe
and would bring every Balkan country, with the possible exception of Bulgaria,
in against them. And that, although Serbia must make suitable reparation, the
idea of attempting to destroy her, or seize a large part of her territories,
was suicidal, as it would inevitably lead to a life and death struggle with
Russia.

But the others no longer
cared if Rumania and Russia came in or not. The mailed fist of the Kaiser was
now theirs to wield as they would. They had only to press the button and the
mightiest army in the world would instantly march to their assistance. But it
was now or never! If they showed weakness now, this God-given opportunity to
crush their enemies once and for all might never occur again.

All that Count Tisza’s
most determined opposition had been able to secure was the postponement of any
attack until an ultimatum had been sent and the Serbians given time to consider
it. But he now feared that the terms of the ultimatum would be made so
deliberately harsh as to ensure that Serbia would reject it, in which case war
must inevitably follow.

For over an hour De
Richleau and his visitor discussed the horrible implications of the course upon
which the Dual Monarchy was being driven by Count Berchtold, von Hötzendorf and
their adherents. As a man of fine brain, forceful character and known
integrity, as a great noble and a beloved figure in his own country, Count
Tisza possessed a personal influence far beyond even that bestowed upon him by
his high political office. Yet his was now a voice crying in the wilderness. He
alone in the Austro-Hungarian Cabinet stood for peace, and had the
far-sightedness to foresee the unutterable calamity that war must bring to the
civilization of Europe and its peoples, whichever nations might prove to be the
victims.

He had sent a further
memorandum to the Emperor, and done everything within his power to counteract
the blind and evil counsels of his colleagues. He still did not despair and was
determined to fight on for peace till the very last moment. But he could think
of nothing more that he could do for the present, and, with all the will and
sympathy in the world, the Duke could suggest nothing that his friend had not
already attempted.

The Count left with a
brighter air, declaring that it had at least done him good to talk things over,
and promised to come to see the invalid again when he could find another
opportunity.

When he had gone, De
Richleau lay back and stared at the ceiling, wondering if there were anything
he could possibly do which might aid the noble Hungarian’s efforts. The very
idea of betraying the Count’s confidence filled him with repulsion.
Nevertheless, he asked himself if he could do any good by requesting Sir
Maurice de Bunsen to come to see him, and revealing to the British Ambassador
all that had occurred at the previous day’s Cabinet meeting. But he decided
against it. There could be no possible justification for such treachery when by
a majority of seven to one, plus the deliberate encouragement of Germany, the
Emperor’s advisers were advocating a policy of war. No outside influence could
hope to overcome such solidarity of purpose. Nothing could now be done until
the ultimatum was issued. Then, if its terms proved as brutal as Count Tisza
feared they would be, Britain and other great powers could, if they chose,
protest that Austria’s demands exceeded anything she had the right to expect,
and propose some form of mediation. Convinced that he could do no more than
pray for a break in the dark clouds that threatened to engulf the manhood of
three generations, the Duke fell into an uneasy sleep.

Next day the tension that
he felt was considerably lightened by the news that the Kaiser had not
postponed his summer cruise to Norway, but sailed upon it the very morning that
the fateful Austro-Hungarian Cabinet meeting had been held. It seemed, to say
the least of it, unlikely that if the Supreme War Lord of Europe really thought
there was the least chance of being called on to loose his legions within a
matter of days or weeks he would calmly have gone off on a holiday. This
hopeful indication that saner counsels were prevailing was strengthened by the
announcement that the Emperor had left Vienna for Ischl, and von Hötzendorf
gone on leave. Evidently no further move was to be made for the moment, and in
the past a war postponed had often proved a war averted. So De Richleau began
to think that Count Tisza’s apprehensions had so played upon his mind that he
had exaggerated the danger of the situation.

Ilona paid her invalid
another visit on the Friday, and brought him a photograph of herself in a
beautiful frame set with semi-precious stones. She looked as well as ever but,
for once, seemed distrait and worried. Tactfully, he endeavoured to discover
the reason, but she refused to admit that she had anything on her mind; so he
could only put it down to the fact that she had made a definite appointment to
be overhauled by Dr. Bruckner on Monday, and must be dreading the possible
verdict on her condition more than she cared to let him know.

Delighted as he was to
have her photograph, caution counselled him to hide it as soon as she had gone.
But he regarded it lovingly in secret many times during the next two days, and
put it out again on his bed-side table just before she was due to arrive for
her Sunday visit.

To his surprise and
annoyance, Paula von Wolkenstein was in attendance on her instead of Sárolta.
He guessed at once that some accident or indisposition must have prevented
Sárolta from accompanying her royal mistress at the last moment and, it being
too late to cancel the visit, she had had no choice but to bring the little
blonde baroness instead. His guess proved correct, as Ilona said, after they
had been talking for a few minutes, that she was sure he would be sorry to hear
that Fraulein Huny
á
dy
had ricked her ankle that afternoon when coming down stairs.

Adam Grünne did his best
for the lovers by taking Paula over to the window, but Ilona had to remain
seated sedately in an arm-chair; and kisses, sweet whispers and tender sighs,
were all entirely out of the question. After the freedom they had enjoyed
during her previous visits, they found the situation extremely trying. They
were now so used to talking intimately that there seemed nothing at all they
could find to say while unwelcome ears were listening. In addition, Ilona’s
cough was worse and she seemed in even lower spirits than she had been on
Friday; so De Richleau was neither surprised nor dismayed when, instead of
staying for her usual hour, she stood up after twenty minutes of stilted
conversation and took her departure.

His three visitors had
not been gone more than two minutes when Paula came back into the room alone. “Excuse
me. please.” she said demurely, “but I forgot my bag.” And she walked over to
the window-to get it.