APTER XXXI

THE KIEL CANAL

It was impossible to resist the conclusion suggested by the absence
of the sixth submarine.

I was not the only person who had been authorized, or rather
instructed, to carry out the design against the Baltic Fleet. My
august employer had thought it better to have two strings to his bow.

Who, then, was the person by whom I had been anticipated?

To this question an answer suggested itself which I was tempted to
reject, but which haunted me, and would not be dismissed.

The Princess Y---- had arrived in Berlin twelve hours before me. She
had come, fully believing that Petrovitch was dead, and prepared to
take his place.

She had interviewed Finkelstein, as I knew. Was it not possible that
she, also, had been received in the crypt at Potsdam, had been shown
the chart of the North Sea, with its ominous red lines, and had
accepted the task of launching one of the submarines on its fatal
errand?

In spite of all the stories which had been told me of Sophia's daring
and resource, in spite of my own experiences of her adventures and
reckless proceedings, I did not go so far as to credit her with
having proceeded to sea in the missing craft.

But it struck me as altogether in keeping with her character that she
should have arranged for the withdrawal of the boat, provided it with
a crew, and despatched it fully instructed as to the work to be done.

But whether these suspicions were well founded or otherwise, of one
thing there could be no doubt. A submarine had been taken by some
one, and was now on its way to the North Sea, to lie in wait for the
ships of Admiral Rojestvensky.

This discovery entirely changed the position for me.

I had come down to Kiel intending to take a submarine out to sea, to
watch for the approach of the Russian fleet, and to take whatever
steps proved practicable to avert any collision between it and the
fishing-boats on the Dogger Bank.

I now saw that the chance of my preventing a catastrophe depended
entirely on the movements of the boat which had left already. This
boat had become my objective, to use a strategical phrase.

Somewhere in the North Sea was a submarine boat, charged with the
mission of provoking a world-wide war. And that boat I had to find.

There was no time to be lost. I hastened back by the most direct way
I could find, to the dockyard gates. The little postern was still
unlocked, and I passed out, the sentry again taking no notic