LENNARD’S ULTIMATUM
Within five minutes they were seated
in the big Napier, with ninety horse-power under them,
and a possibility of eighty miles an hour before them.
A white flag was fastened to a little flagstaff on
the left-hand side. They put on their goggles
and overcoats, and took Westminster Bridge, as it
seemed, in a leap. Rochester was reached in twenty-five
minutes, but at the southern side of Rochester Bridge
they were held up by German sentries.
“Not a pleasant sort of thing
on English soil,” growled Lord Kitchener as
Lord Whittinghame stopped the motor.
“Is the German Emperor here
yet?” asked Lennard in German.
“No, Herr, he is at Canterbury,”
replied the sentry. “Would you like to
see the officer?”
“Yes,” said Lennard, “as
soon as possible. These gentlemen are Lord Whittinghame
and Lord Kitchener, and they wish to meet the Emperor
as soon as possible.”
The sentry saluted and retired, and
presently a captain of Uhlans came clattering across
the street, clicked his heels together, touched the
side of his helmet, and said:
“At your service, gentlemen. What can I
do for you?”
“We wish to get into communication
with the German Emperor as soon as possible,”
replied Lord Whittinghame. “Is the telegraph
still working from here to Canterbury?”
“It is,” replied the German
officer; “if you will come with me to the office
you shall be put into communication with His Majesty
at once; but it will be necessary for me to hear what
you say.”
“We’re only going to try
and make peace,” said Lord Kitchener, “so
you might as well hear all we’ve got to say.
Those infernal airships of yours have beaten us.
Will you get in? We’ll run you round to
the office.”
“I thank you,” replied
the captain of the Uhlans, “but it will be better
if I walk on and have the line cleared. I will
meet you at the office. Adieu.”
He stiffened up, clicked his heels
again, saluted, and the next moment he had thrown
his right leg across the horse which the orderly had
brought up for him.
“Not bad men, those Uhlans,”
said Lord Kitchener, as the car moved slowly towards
the telegraph station. “Take a lot of beating
in the field, I should say, if it once came to cold
steel.”
They halted at the post-office, and
the captain of Uhlans, who was in charge of all the
telegraph lines of the south-east, was requested to
send the following telegram, which was signed by Lord
Whittinghame and Lord Kitchener.
“Acting as deputation from British
Government we desire interview with your Majesty
at Canterbury, with view to putting end to present
bloodshed, if possible, also other important news to
communicate.”
This telegram was despatched to the
Kaiser at the County Hotel, Canterbury, and while
they were waiting for the reply a message came in
from Whitstable addressed to “Lennard, oyster
merchant, Rochester,” which was in the following
terms:
“Oyster catch
promises well. Advised large purchase
to-morrow. ROBINSON
& SMITH.”
“That seems rather a frivolous
sort of thing to send one nowadays,” said Lennard,
dropping the paper to the floor after reading the telegram
aloud. “I have some interest in the beds
at Whitstable, and my agents, who don’t seem
to know that there’s a war going on, want me
to invest. I think it’s hardly good enough,
when you don’t know whether you’ll be in
little pieces within the next ten minutes.”
“I don’t see why you shouldn’t
take on a contract for supplying our friends the enemy,”
laughed Lord Kitchener, as the twinkle of an eye passed
between them, while the captain of Uhlans’ back
was turned for an instant.
“I’m afraid they would
be confiscated before I could do that,” said
Lennard. “I shan’t bother about answering
it. We have rather more serious things than oysters
to think about just now.”
The sounder clicked, and the German
telegraphist, who had taken the place of the English
one, tapped out a message, which he handed to the
captain of Uhlans.
“Gentlemen, His Imperial Majesty
will be glad to receive you at the County Hotel, Canterbury.
I will give you a small flag which shall secure you
from all molestation.”
He handed the paper to Lord Whittinghame
as he spoke. The Imperial message read:
“Happy to meet deputation.
Please carry German flag, which will secure you
from molestation en route. I am wiring
orders for suspension of hostilities till dawn
to-morrow. I hope we may make satisfactory
arrangements. WILHELM.”
“That is quite satisfactory,”
said Lord Whittinghame to the captain of Uhlans.
“We shall be much obliged to you for the flag,
and you will perhaps telegraph down the road saying
that we are not to be stopped. I can assure you
that the matter is one of the utmost urgency.”
“Certainly, my lord,”
replied the captain. “His Majesty’s
word is given. That is enough for us.”
Ten minutes later the big Napier,
flying the German flag on the left-hand side, was
spinning away through Chatham, and down the straight
road to Canterbury. They slowed up going through
Sittingbourne and Faversham, which were already in
the hands of the Allied forces, thanks to John Castellan’s
precautions in blocking all railroads to Dover, and
the German flag was saluted by the garrisons, much
to Lord Kitchener’s quietly-expressed displeasure,
but he knew they were playing for a big stake, and
so he just touched his cap, as they swung through the
narrow streets, and said what he had to say under
his breath.
Within forty minutes the car pulled
up opposite the County Hotel, Canterbury. The
ancient city was no longer English, save as regarded
its architecture. Everywhere, the clatter of
German hoofs sounded on the streets, and the clink
and clank of German spurs and swords sounded on the
pavements. The French and Austrians were taking
the westward routes by Ashford and Tonbridge in the
enveloping movement on London. The War Lord of
Germany had selected the direct route for himself.
As the motor stopped panting and throbbing
in front of the hotel entrance, a big man in the uniform
of the Imperial Guard came out, saluted, and said:
“Lord Whittinghame and Lord
Kitchener, with Mr Lennard, I presume?”
“Yes, that’s so,”
said Lord Kitchener, opening the side door and getting
out. “Colonel von Folkerstroem, I believe.
I think we’ve met before. You were His
Majesty’s attache with us during the Boer
War, I think. This is Lord Whittinghame, and
this is Mr Lennard. Is His Majesty within?”
“His Majesty awaits you, gentlemen,”
replied the Colonel, formally. And then as he
shook hands with Lord Kitchener he added, “I
am sorry, sir, that we should meet as enemies on English
soil.”
“Just the fortune of war and
those damned airships of yours, Colonel,” laughed
Lord Kitchener in reply. “If we’d
had them this meeting might have been in Berlin or
Potsdam. Can’t fight against those things,
you know. We’re only human.”
“But you English are just a
little more, I think,” said the Colonel to himself.
“Gottes willen! What would my August
Master be thinking now if this was in Berlin instead
of Canterbury, and here are these Englishmen taking
it as quietly as though an invasion of England happened
every day.” And when he had said this to
himself he continued aloud:
“My lords and Mr Lennard, if
you will follow me I will conduct you into His Majesty’s
presence.”
They followed the Colonel upstairs
to the first floor. Two sentries in the uniform
of the 1st Regiment of Cuirassiers were guarding
the door: their bayoneted rifles came up to the
present, the Colonel answered the salute, and they
dropped to attention. The Colonel knocked at the
door and a harsh voice replied:
“Herein.”
The door swung open and Lennard found
himself for the first but not the last time in the
presence of the War Lord of Germany.
“Good-evening, gentlemen,”
said the Kaiser. “You will understand me
when I say I am both glad and sorry to see you.”
“Your Majesty,” replied
Lord Whittinghame, in a curiously serious tone, “the
time for human joy and sorrow is so fast expiring that
almost everything has ceased to matter, even the invasion
of England.”
The Kaiser’s brows lifted, and
he stared in frank astonishment at the man who could
say such apparently ridiculous words so seriously.
If he had not known that he was talking to the late
Prime Minister, and the present leader of the Unionist
party in the House of Lords, he would have thought
him mad.
“Those are very strange words,
my lord,” he replied. “You will pardon
me if I confess that I can hardly grasp their meaning.”
“If your Majesty has an hour
to spare,” said Lord Whittinghame, “Mr
Lennard will make everything perfectly plain.
But what he has to say, and what he can prove, must
be for your Majesty’s ears alone.”
“Is it so important as that?” laughed
the Kaiser.
“It is so important, sire,”
said Lord Kitchener, “that the fate of the whole
world hangs upon what you may say or do within the
next hour. So far, you have beaten us, because
you have been able to bring into action engines of
warfare against which we have been unable to defend
ourselves. But now, there is another enemy in
the field, against which we possess the only means
of defence. That is what we have come to explain
to your Majesty.”
“Another enemy!” exclaimed
the Kaiser, “but how can that be. There
are no earthly powers left sufficiently strong that
we would be powerless against them.”
“This is not an earthly enemy,
your Majesty,” replied Lennard, speaking for
the first time since he had entered the room.
“It is an invader from Space. To put it
quite plainly, the terms which we have come to offer
your Majesty are: Cessation of hostilities for
six months, withdrawal of all troops from British
soil, universal disarmament, and a pledge to be entered
into by all the Powers of Europe and the United States
of America that after the 12th of May next there shall
be no more war. Your fleets have been destroyed
as well as ours, your armies are here, but they cannot
get away, and so we are going to ask you to surrender.”
“Surrender!” echoed the
Kaiser, “surrender, when your country lies open
and defenceless before us? No, no. Lord Whittinghame
and Lord Kitchener I know, but who are you, sir a
civilian and an unknown man, that you should dictate
peace to me and my Allies?”
“Only a man, your Majesty,”
said Lord Whittinghame, “who has convinced the
British Cabinet Council that he holds the fate of the
world in the hollow of his hands. Are you prepared
to be convinced?”
“Of what?” replied the Kaiser, coldly.
“That there will be no world
left to conquer after midnight on the 12th of May
next, or to put it otherwise, that unless our terms
are accepted, and Mr Lennard carries out his work,
there will be neither victors nor vanquished left
on earth.”
“Gentlemen,” replied the
Kaiser, “you will pardon me when I say that I
am surprised beyond measure that you should have come
to me with a schoolboy’s tale like that.
The eternal order of things cannot be interrupted
in such a ridiculous fashion. Again, I trust you
will forgive me when I express my regret that you
should have wasted so much of your own time and mine
on an errand which should surely have appeared to
you fruitless from the first.
“Whoever or whatever this gentleman
may be,” he continued with a wave of his hand
towards Lennard, “I neither know nor care; but
that yourself and Lord Kitchener should have been
deceived so grossly, I must confess passes the limits
of my imagination. Frankly, I do not believe in
the possibility of such proofs as you allude to.
As regards peace, I propose to discuss terms with
King Edward in Windsor not before, nor with
anyone else. Gentlemen, I have other matters to
attend to, and I have the honour to bid you good-evening.”
“And that is your Majesty’s
last word?” said Lord Kitchener. “You
mean a fight to the finish?”
“Yes, my lord,” replied
the Kaiser, “whether the world finishes with
the fight or not.”
“Very well then,” said
Lennard, taking an envelope from the breast-pocket
of his coat, and putting it down on the table before
the Emperor. “If your Majesty has not time
to look through those papers, you will perhaps send
them to Berlin and take your own astronomer’s
report upon them. Meanwhile, you will remember
that our terms are: Unconditional surrender of
the forces invading the British Islands or the destruction
of the world. Good-night.”