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Updated: June 20, 2025
In his hotel room Dorn, eating blue-colored fish, spoke to an acquaintance an erudite young German who wore a monocle, whose eyes twinkled with an odd humor, and who under the influence of a bottle of Sekt was vociferating passionately in behalf of a thing he called Welt Revolution. "I don't understand it yet, von Stinnes," Dorn smiled. "I will later.
Until a soldier brought him a document issued by Eichorn the mysterious policeman who was dictating from the Stadt House. And poor Bode signed it. He was sleepy. He could not read with sleep. It was his own death warrant. It was I who saved him by taking him to the house of Milly. He slept four days with Milly, in itself a feat." Von Stinnes swallowed another glass of wine.
He laughed. "I gave them to Dr. Kasnilov, and a very mysterious Englishman gave them to me...." "Gifts of a million are somewhat phenomenal," Dorn murmured. "I stole only a hundred thousand," von Stinnes went on, "which, of course, everyone expected." "But why the English, Karl?" "A little plan to separate Bavaria from Prussia, and help break up Middle Europe.
"Ah, then truly, we are of the same pattern." Von Stinnes stared at him sadly. "You are my first companion in five years," he added. "As you are mine," Dorn answered. "Here ... to the success of all your villainies and our friendship." "Which is not one of them," the Baron murmured. "You believe me?" "Of course." "Ah! it is almost a sensation to be believed ... for speaking the truth.
A group of American and English correspondents were lounging in the heavy divans, drinking gin and talking to a trio of elaborately gowned women. The talk was in French. "Hello, Dorn," one of the Englishmen called. Dorn approached the table, von Stinnes following, and whispering, "I will request the porter to open the gate." "Baron von Stinnes, Mr. Reading." The Englishman shook hands and smiled.
As for the Italians ... I have never been in Italy." Von Stinnes laughed. "You do not believe me, eh?" "You are lying only in what you do not say," Dorn laughed. "Yes, exactly. I will go on, if it amuses you." "It is better conversation than usual." "I am now with the English," von Stinnes continued. "They play a curious game outside Versailles, the English.
Three months of work. Unfocused talents drawn into simultaneous activity. And Dorn arose one morning to find himself an outstanding figure in the turmoil of comment and commentators about him. Von Stinnes had wheedled his history out of him for publication in Berlin. Its appearance was greeted with a journalistic shout in the capitol. Radicals and conservatives alike pounced upon it.
Von Stinnes walked with his arm linked in Dorn's. Before the latter's room he halted. "Good night, sweet prince," he mumbled drowsily, "and may angels guard thy sleep." Alone, he moved unsteadily down the hall. Mathilde was gone. Moving about the room, Dorn found a note left for him. He read: "A man was here asking for you. An American officer.
He had become a workman industrious, inquisitive, determined. Under the guidance of von Stinnes he had managed to penetrate the heart of German politik.
We thought your skull was fractured, but the doctor says it was only a hard blow." She lowered her head beside him on the pillow and whispered, "I love you! Poor Erik! He is defenseless with a broken head." "You are kind," he answered; "von Stinnes, too. But we must set matters right...." "No, no, be still!" He grew silent. It was night again. In the morning he would be strong enough to get up.
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