rose and put his empty cup on the table, turned, and smiled warmly.
"That is a very generous offer, sir. Do you think you might consider a little ocean cruise?"
The Count's smile mirrored his. "I might very well indeed. I was thinking of tootling up the Thames to Greenwich. I have some classmates still stationed there. Might I invite you to join me? Aurora is getting a refit in Hamburg just now. I intend to join her in a week's time. I shall then sail her to Ostend. Please think about this, and when you make a decision, please leave a note for me at the desk sometime today, since I will be leaving at dawn tomorrow. A yes or a no will suffice. And I do hope that you will say yes. And in addition, you must excuse me, I do hate to be personal—but I must tell you that there are almost no redheads in Russia."
He rose and put down his cup, turning once again to Gus. "If I could bother you—to look down the hall. It is important that we not be seen together."
The hall was empty. With a cheery wave, the Count was gone and Gus locked the door behind him. Sherman poured himself some more coffee and shook his head.
"I'm a simple man of war, Gus, and all this kind of thing is beyond me. Would you kindly tell me what that was all about?"
"It was about military intelligence!" Gus was too excited to sit and paced the room as he spoke. "By revealing himself as an intimate of Schulz, he was letting us know that he has experience and training as—well, not to put it too fine—as a spy. He also believes that Britain and America may go to war again and has offered us assistance in preparing for that eventuality."
"So that's what all that strange talk was about. He wants you to join him in snooping around the British Isles?"
"Not me alone. Remember—it was you he contacted. He wants to give you an opportunity to see for yourself what the British defenses are like. If another war is forced upon us, we must be prepared for anything. An intimate knowledge of the coast defenses and major waterways of that country would be of incalculable aid in planning a campaign."
"I begin to see what you mean. But it sounds pretty desperate. I don't think that I would relish going to sea in the Count's ship. We would have to hide belowdecks during the daylight hours and emerge like owls after dark."
"That we will not! If we go, why, we are going to be Russian officers. Swilling champagne on deck and saying 'Da! Da!' Of course, you will have to dye your beard black. The Count was very firm about that. Do you think you can manage that— gospodin?"
Sherman rubbed his jaw in thought.
"So that's what the bit concerning red hair was about." He smiled. "Da," he said. "I think I can manage almost anything, if it means that I can take a look at the British defenses and wartime preparation."
With sudden enthusiasm Sherman jumped to his feet and slammed his fist down so hard on the table that the plates and saucers bounced.
"Let's do it!"
THE ULTIMATUM
The rain was streaming down the glass lobby doors. Barely visible through them were the horses, hitched to the carriage outside and standing with lowered heads in the downpour. Abraham Lincoln stood to one side of the lobby talking with Ambassador Pierce and General Sherman. Pierce was upset and very apologetic.
"That is all I know, Mr. President. A servant brought me a note from Mr. Fox, saying that he would be slightly delayed and we should not wait, but should go on without him."
"Well, if truth be known, I'm in no rush to go out in this rain. We'll give him a few minutes in the hope that the weather might ameliorate. I am sure that we still have plenty of time once we get to the assembly."
"Here he comes now," Sherman said, then turned and looked out at the waiting carriage; he turned his uniform coat collar up. "At least, considering the time of year, it will be a warm rain."
"Gentlemen, my apologies," Gus said, hurrying to join them. "I was delayed because I was getting a report from an agent.