I who first brought back word to the Imperial Chancellor of
the existence of an Entente between England and France. "Is there an
Entente?" he asked me, trembling with excitement, on my arrival at the
Wilhelmstrasse. "Your Excellency," I said, "there is." He groaned. "Can
you stop it?" he asked. "Don't ask me," I said sadly. "Where must we
strike?" demanded the Chancellor. "Fetch me a map," I said. They did
so. I placed my finger on the map. "Quick, quick," said the Chancellor,
"look where his finger is." They lifted it up. "Morocco!" they cried. I
had meant it for Abyssinia but it was too late to change. That night the
warship Panther sailed under sealed orders. The rest is history, or at
least history and geography.

In the same way it was I who brought word to the Wilhelmstrasse of the
_rapprochement_ between England and Russia in Persia. "What did you
find?" asked the Chancellor as I laid aside the Russian disguise in
which I had travelled. "A _Rapprochement!_" I said. He groaned. "They
seem to get all the best words," he said.

I shall always feel, to my regret; that I am personally responsible for
the outbreak of the present war. It may have had ulterior causes. But
there is no doubt that it was precipitated by the fact that, for the
first time in seventeen years, I took a six weeks' vacation in June and
July of 1914. The consequences of this careless step I ought to have
foreseen. Yet I took such precautions as I could. "Do you think," I
asked, "that you can preserve the _status quo_ for six weeks, merely six
weeks, if I stop spying and take a rest?" "We'll try," they answered.
"Remember," I said, as I packed my things, "keep the Dardanelles closed;
have the Sandjak of Novi Bazaar properly patrolled, and let the Dobrudja
remain under a _modus vivendi_ till I come back."

Two months later, while sitting sipping my coffee at a Kurhof in the
Schwarzwald, I read in the newspapers that a German army had invaded
France and was fighting the French, and that the English expeditionary
force had crossed the Channel. "This," I said to myself, "means war." As
usual, I was right.

It is needless for me to recount here the life of busy activity that
falls to a Spy in wartime. It was necessary for me to be here, there
and everywhere, visiting all the best hotels, watering-places, summer
resorts, theatres, and places of amusement. It was necessary, moreover,
to act with the utmost caution and to assume an air of careless
ind