exclaimed â and she too seemed rather put about â said there was nobody there but they had kept her a long time â they had seemed to be very pleased about something and chuckled together and they had gone into an inner room and locked the doorwhich they had never done before and she heard the typing and she said she thought they had copied it. In my own mind I had no doubt, and that became certainty when I drew out the letter â saw that the sheets were soiled with typing ink and pinned together.
The man was a cad! It was almost the last straw on a day of great strain â not that I felt I had done anything but what was right and under the cires sensible â but I feared that either they might stop me or else try to discredit me in London and so destroy my mission.
It was therefore very dejectedly that I went up to the French Consulate. Here I encountered considerable difficulties â French officials are very snappy and irritable. My papers had to pass before four separate men â the last one demanded more photographs but I told him I had none. The English Consul had them all, five besides the one pasted in. He was high-handed, said it was the rule and he must have at least four. I was sorry but could not give him what I had not got. He was rude and it was long before he would let me go. At last he consented and utterly exhausted I came out â sent Phoebe back to finish the packing and went to get the sleeper tickets.
We made a hurried supper and so to the station in fairly good time. Fortunately Frau Kocher came to see me off and, hurriedly, I was able to tell her of this contretemps of my stolen letter â the results of which I feared might be serious for my work. When we started Phoebe told me the clerk from the Passport Office was on the platform and she believed watching us. The reason for this Espionage I learned later. At the moment I thought it was to see who saw me off and who my friends in Berne might be.
Once the train was off my anxiety was relieved and I felt sure no hindrance would be placed in my reaching London. I knew Grant Duffâs wire had been answered saying I was to be allowed to pass and that Sir Ed Grey knew through him that I had information I wanted to give and I felt therefore certain I was under the protection of the Foreign Office. The men I detest and fear are the underlings who seem to crop up and come to the fore in wartime (just as in South Africa) and who are always suspicious unreasonable arbitrary and invariably Cads .
As we neared Neuchâtel and I came to myself a bit I realized that once over the border I should no longer be able to correspond freely with anyone in Switzerland and I felt I must write at once to the British Consul and tell him I had discovered that my letter had been tampered with and if he could assure me it was not and he must write to me in London at once. I told him how painful it was to me to think that his office contained men who could do such an ungentlemanly deed and it made me ashamed of the British Consulate in Berne. That any man would open and read and copy a private letter handed him by a mistake was the act of a dishonorable Cad. I further said that whatever information it contained could and would be of no use unless with the consent of the British Government and now none at all as of course I cancelled it at once on finding out their treachery.
This I wrote in pencil in the train and posted at Neuchâtel and I felt calmer when it was done. The letter which was copied by them was almost word for word as follows:
To Dr. Aletta Jacobs â 1507 Koninginneweg, Amsterdam.
Dear Friend,
I am leaving Switzerland tonight and so shall not have any further chance of writing to you freely.
You know I have been to Berlin and have seen members of the Govmt there. When I get back to London it may be necessary for me to send a reply to a kind of message I have to carry. The posts via Switzerland are so very
The man was a cad! It was almost the last straw on a day of great strain â not that I felt I had done anything but what was right and under the cires sensible â but I feared that either they might stop me or else try to discredit me in London and so destroy my mission.
It was therefore very dejectedly that I went up to the French Consulate. Here I encountered considerable difficulties â French officials are very snappy and irritable. My papers had to pass before four separate men â the last one demanded more photographs but I told him I had none. The English Consul had them all, five besides the one pasted in. He was high-handed, said it was the rule and he must have at least four. I was sorry but could not give him what I had not got. He was rude and it was long before he would let me go. At last he consented and utterly exhausted I came out â sent Phoebe back to finish the packing and went to get the sleeper tickets.
We made a hurried supper and so to the station in fairly good time. Fortunately Frau Kocher came to see me off and, hurriedly, I was able to tell her of this contretemps of my stolen letter â the results of which I feared might be serious for my work. When we started Phoebe told me the clerk from the Passport Office was on the platform and she believed watching us. The reason for this Espionage I learned later. At the moment I thought it was to see who saw me off and who my friends in Berne might be.
Once the train was off my anxiety was relieved and I felt sure no hindrance would be placed in my reaching London. I knew Grant Duffâs wire had been answered saying I was to be allowed to pass and that Sir Ed Grey knew through him that I had information I wanted to give and I felt therefore certain I was under the protection of the Foreign Office. The men I detest and fear are the underlings who seem to crop up and come to the fore in wartime (just as in South Africa) and who are always suspicious unreasonable arbitrary and invariably Cads .
As we neared Neuchâtel and I came to myself a bit I realized that once over the border I should no longer be able to correspond freely with anyone in Switzerland and I felt I must write at once to the British Consul and tell him I had discovered that my letter had been tampered with and if he could assure me it was not and he must write to me in London at once. I told him how painful it was to me to think that his office contained men who could do such an ungentlemanly deed and it made me ashamed of the British Consulate in Berne. That any man would open and read and copy a private letter handed him by a mistake was the act of a dishonorable Cad. I further said that whatever information it contained could and would be of no use unless with the consent of the British Government and now none at all as of course I cancelled it at once on finding out their treachery.
This I wrote in pencil in the train and posted at Neuchâtel and I felt calmer when it was done. The letter which was copied by them was almost word for word as follows:
To Dr. Aletta Jacobs â 1507 Koninginneweg, Amsterdam.
Dear Friend,
I am leaving Switzerland tonight and so shall not have any further chance of writing to you freely.
You know I have been to Berlin and have seen members of the Govmt there. When I get back to London it may be necessary for me to send a reply to a kind of message I have to carry. The posts via Switzerland are so very
Similar Books
