The Girl from Alsace Part 2

The officer noted these details in his book.

"At what hotel will you stay in Aachen?" he asked.

"I don't know. Is there a good one near the station?"

"The Kolner Hof is near the station. It is not large, but it is very good. It is starred by Baedeker."

"Then I will go there," said Stewart.

"Very good," and the officer wrote, "Kolner Hof, Aachen," after Stewart's name, closed his notebook and slipped it into his pocket. "You understand, sir, that it is our duty to keep watch over all strangers, as much for their own protection as for any other reason."

"Yes," a.s.sented Stewart, "I understand. I have heard that there is some danger of war."

"Of that I know nothing," said the other coldly, and rose quickly to his feet. "I bid you good-night, sir."

"Good-night," responded Stewart, and watched the upright figure until it disappeared.

Then, lighting a fresh cigar, he gazed out at the great cathedral, nebulous and dream-like in the darkness, and tried to picture to himself what such a war would mean as Bloem had spoken of. With men by the million dragged into the vast armies, who would harvest Europe's grain, who would work in her factories, who would conduct her business? Above all, who would feed the women and children?

And where would the money come from--the millions needed daily to keep such armies in the field? Where could it come from, save from the sweat of inoffensive people, who must be starved and robbed and ground into the earth until the last penny was wrung from them? Along the line of battle, thousands would meet swift death, and thousands more would struggle back to life through the torments of h.e.l.l, to find themselves maimed and useless. But how trivial their sufferings beside the slow, hopeless, year-long martyrdom of the countless thousands who would never see a battle, who would know little of the war--who would know only that never thereafter was there food enough, warmth enough----

Stewart started from his reverie to find the waiter putting out the lights. s.h.i.+vering as with a sudden chill, he hastily sought his room.

CHAPTER II

THE FIRST RUMBLINGS

As Stewart ate his breakfast next morning, he smiled at his absurd fears of the night before. In the clear light of day, Bloem's talk of war seemed mere foolishness. War! Nonsense! Europe would never be guilty of such folly--a deliberate plunge to ruin.

Besides, there were no evidences of war; the life of the city was moving in its accustomed round, so far as Stewart could see; and there was vast rea.s.surance in the quiet and orderly service of the breakfast-room. No doubt the Powers had bethought themselves, had interfered, had stopped the war between Austria and Servia, had ceased mobilization--in a word, had saved Europe from an explosion which would have shaken her from end to end.

But when Stewart asked for his bill, the proprietor, instead of intrusting it as usual to the headwaiter, presented it in person.

"If Herr Stewart would pay in gold, it would be a great favor," he said.

Like all Americans, Stewart, unaccustomed to gold and finding its weight burdensome, carried banknotes whenever it was possible to do so.

Emptying his pockets now, he found, besides a miscellaneous lot of silver and nickel and copper, a single small gold coin, value ten marks.

"But I have plenty of paper," he said, and, producing his pocket-book, spread five notes for a hundred marks each before him on the table.

"What's the matter with it?"

"There is nothing at all the matter with it, sir," the little fat German hastened to a.s.sure him; "only, just at present, there is a preference for gold. I would advise that you get gold for these notes, if possible."

"I have a Cook's letter of credit," said Stewart. "They would give me gold. Where is Cook's office here?"

"It is but a step up the street, sir," answered the other eagerly.

"Come, I will show you," and, hastening to the door, he pointed out the office at the end of a row of buildings jutting out toward the cathedral.

Stewart, the banknotes in his hand, hastened thither, and found quite a crowd of people drawing money on traveler's checks and letters of credit. He noticed that they were all being paid in gold. They, too, it seemed, had heard rumors of war, had been advised to get gold; but most of them treated the rumors as a joke and were heeding the advice only because they needed gold to pay their bills.

Even if there was war, they told each other, it could not affect them.

At most, it would only add a spice of excitement and adventure to the remainder of their European tour; what they most feared was that they would not be permitted to see any of the fighting! A few of the more timid shamefacedly confessed that they were getting ready to turn homeward, but by far the greater number proclaimed the fact that they had made up their minds not to alter their plans in any detail. So much Stewart gathered as he stood in line waiting his turn; then he was in front of the cas.h.i.+er's window.

The cas.h.i.+er looked rather dubious when Stewart laid the banknotes down and asked for gold.

"I am carrying one of your letters of credit," Stewart explained, and produced it. "I got these notes on it at Heidelberg just the other day.

Now it seems they're no good."

"They are perfectly good," the cas.h.i.+er a.s.sured him; "but some of the tradespeople, who are always suspicious and ready to take alarm, are demanding gold. How long will you be in Germany?"

"I go to Belgium to-night or to-morrow."

"Then you can use French gold," said the cas.h.i.+er, with visible relief.

"Will one hundred marks in German gold carry you through? Yes? I think I can arrange it on that basis;" and when Stewart a.s.sented, counted out five twenty-mark pieces and twenty-four twenty-franc pieces. "I think you are wise to leave Germany as soon as possible," he added, in a low tone, as Stewart gathered up this money and bestowed it about his person. "We do not wish to alarm anyone, and we are not offering advice, but if war comes, Germany will not be a pleasant place for strangers."

"Is it really coming?" Stewart asked. "Is there any news?"

"There is nothing definite--just a feeling in the air--but I believe that it is coming," and he turned to the next in line.

Stewart hastened back to the hotel, where his landlord received with reiterated thanks the thirty marks needed to settle the bill. When that transaction was ended, he glanced nervously about the empty office, and then leaned close.

"You leave this morning, do you not, sir?" he asked, in a tone cautiously lowered.

"Yes; I am going to Aix-la-Chapelle."

"Take my advice, sir," said the landlord earnestly, "and do not stop there. Go straight on to Brussels."

"But why?" asked Stewart. "Everybody is advising me to get out of Germany. What danger can there be?"

"No danger, perhaps, but very great annoyance. It is rumored that the Emperor has already signed the proclamation declaring Germany in a state of war. It may be posted at any moment."

"Suppose it is--what then? What difference can that make to me--or to any American?"

"I see you do not know what those words mean," said the little landlord, leaning still closer and speaking with twitching lips. "When Germany is in a state of war, all civil authority ceases; the military authority is everywhere supreme. The state takes charge of all railroads, and no private persons will be permitted on them until the troops have been mobilized, which will take at least a week; even after that, the trains will run only when the military authorities think proper, and never past the frontier. The telegraphs are taken and will send no private messages; no person may enter or leave the country until his ident.i.ty is clearly established; every stranger in the country will be placed under arrest, if there is any reason to suspect him. All motor vehicles are seized, all horses, all stores of food. Business stops, because almost all the men must go to the army. I must close my hotel because there will be no men left to work for me. Even if the men were left, there would be no custom when travel ceases. Every shop will be closed which cannot be managed by women; every factory will shut, unless its product is needed by the army. Your letter of credit will be worthless, because there will be no way in which our bankers can get gold from America.

No--at that time, Germany will be no place for strangers."

Stewart listened incredulously, for all this sounded like the wildest extravagance. He could not believe that business and industry would fall to pieces like that--it was too firmly founded, too strongly built.

"What I have said is true, sir, believe me," said the little man, earnestly, seeing his skeptical countenance. "One thing more--have you a pa.s.sport?"

"Yes," said Stewart, and tapped his pocket.

"That is good. That will save you trouble at the frontier. Ah, here is your baggage. Good-by, sir, and a safe voyage to your most fortunate country."