The World's Greatest Military Spies and Secret Service Agents. Barton George Aaron
Читать онлайн книгу.other defects there might be in his character—and they were many and serious—disloyalty was not one of them. As to meeting the great man—pshaw! that was but part of the day’s work.
“Schulmeister, come forward!”
This command from an officer awakened the young Alsatian from his day dreams. He was being conducted to the presence of the man whose name was already reverberating around the world. He followed closely on the heels of the messenger, wondering why he had been summoned and how he should act. Before he could map out any coherent line of conduct he realized that he was in the headquarters of the Emperor.
Schulmeister looked about him quickly and for the moment was confused. The place was filled with staff officers wearing glittering uniforms and talking in low but animated tones. Which of these could be the Emperor? He looked for the most impressive uniform but was not enlightened. Presently his glance fell upon a man short in stature, but well formed and resolute in his manner. He was apart from the others and restlessly paced up and down the narrow limits of the apartment. He wore a long gray coat over a plain uniform. He turned around unexpectedly and moved out of the mass of gorgeously uniformed men. The Alsatian recognized him at once.
It was Napoleon.
NAPOLEON BONAPARTE
At first the Emperor’s smooth face, firmly set jaw and rigid mouth seemed to portend a storm. But as his eyes rested on the young man he smiled charmingly and engagingly. The glance that he shot at his visitor was at once ardent and penetrating. He placed his hand on Schulmeister’s shoulder.
“You are an Alsatian?”
“Yes, sire.”
“You look like a brave man—a man who will risk his life for France.”
“Willingly,” was the quick response.
After that the Man of Destiny and the former smuggler sat down and planned the scheme by which the Emperor was to gain the information he desired concerning the position, the extent and the prospective movements of the enemy. Schulmeister, while not particularly educated, was exceptionally quick witted. It has been said that he was as “sharp as a steel trap” and that is the impression he made on the Emperor, for Napoleon afterwards spoke glowingly of the spy to General Savery, his aide-de-camp.
The result of the campaign that had been planned was to have a marked effect upon the future of the “Little Corporal,” as the idolizing soldiers insisted upon calling their chief. The Emperor accompanied the spy to the door of his headquarters, and as he left called after him:
“Don’t fail me!”
Schulmeister hastened away and the thing that he remembered most of all was the figure of the little man in the long gray coat, waving his short arm and calling out that message of warning and of confidence. Who shall say that this day was not to mark the beginning of the founding of the great Napoleonic empire?
Time is everything!
Napoleon had said this often and his faithful servitor learned it by heart. He had a brief interview with General Savery, and the next moment started on his mission. The expected happened—the thing he wished to happen—the incident that was necessary in order to set the little drama in motion.
He was arrested by the French police on the charge of espionage and hustled by them to the frontier. It is impossible, if not indiscreet, to admit too many persons into one’s confidence. The officers who had made the arrest were ardent Frenchmen as well as faithful policemen, and they did not treat the young Alsatian any too tenderly. In fact, he received more cuffs and kicks than he liked. But he took them all unresistingly and even smiled when he was given a final push and sent headlong into the camp of the Austrians.
They received him with open arms, and when he told them a cock-and-bull story of his adventures in the French camp, nothing would do but that he must enter the Secret Service of the Austrian Army. Such a valuable man was not to be lost.
The news of this was taken to the short man in the long gray coat, and as he paced up and down amidst his brilliantly uniformed officers he was heard to give vent to a chuckle—the sort of a chuckle one expects from a man whose plans are working precisely as he wished.
In the meantime Schulmeister settled down to business in earnest. He gained the acquaintance and then the friendship of two very important men. One was Captain Wend of the Austrian Secret Service, and the other Lieutenant Bendel, aide-de-camp to General Kienmayer. In this, as in all else, he had followed the advice of his Corsican superior. With him, as with the greater man, time was “everything.”
A less audacious man would have hesitated about approaching such officers as Wend and Bendel; a less courageous man would have feared it, and a less imaginative man would never have thought of it. But Schulmeister had audacity, courage and imagination. He unbosomed himself to these two men, he pointed out the possibilities of the future and he painted the glories and the rewards of the Napoleonic empire.
In less than twenty-four hours Captain Wend and Lieutenant Bendel had become his allies, and thereafter worked with him hand and glove.
The next necessary move was to obtain the confidence of the higher Austrian officers and to find out their plans. He was able to do this with the assistance of Captain Wend and Lieutenant Bendel.
The Allies had a great body of soldiers in the field. The chief figure was Field Marshal Baron Mack, who had 90,000 splendidly equipped and well trained men under his command. His army formed the right wing of an enormous host, of which Archduke Charles with 140,000 men in northern Italy and Archduke John with 50,000 more in the passes of the Tyrol were important adjuncts.
General Mack was impressed with the great strength of his troops and felt that he could easily overcome Napoleon with the superiority of his numbers. Schulmeister learned of this over-confidence and was all the more anxious to reach the big man. Captain Wend undertook to present the Alsatian to Mack. It proved to be easy. The Austrian commander was not anxious to move unless it was necessary, and when he learned that there was a man in the vicinity who had been in the camp of Napoleon he was eager to meet him.
Schulmeister was bidden to come into his presence and told to describe all that he had seen in the camp of the “enemy.” He did so with a vividness of imagination that would have done credit to Baron Munchausen.
For nearly an hour the medium-sized man with the ugly scars and the sky-blue eyes sat there and poured fiction into the ears of the great general—the man decorated with many medals and filled with a sense of his own importance. And Mack believed it all. At the conclusion the Austrian turned to one of his subordinates.
“You see; it is as I suspected. We must not move from this place. We must watch and wait.”
So, on the strength of the information—the false information—supplied by the Alsatian smuggler, the great army dawdled away its time in idleness. That is to say, it was really idle while making a pretense of activity. General Mack moved his troops about aimlessly in order to fool the enemy. That was his notion of military strategy. But alas! for his expectations, he was dealing with the master military strategist of his time—if not of all times.
Having deluded the Austrian commander and obtained accurate data concerning his plans, Schulmeister now made it his business to convey the information to Napoleon. He was readily given leave to go to the French camp, with instructions to get all the facts possible as to its future movements.
He was in an enviable position. He had the passwords of both armies and he made his way to the quarters of the Emperor without any difficulty. As before, he found the silent, mysterious figure in the long gray coat, in the midst of his brilliantly attired staff. Schulmeister almost ran into the presence of the “Little Corporal.”
“Sire,” he said, “I have important news from the front.”
Napoleon dismissed his officers, and sat down to listen to the report of the