This conjecture proved correct.
The Baron rose at my entrance with military correctness
and shook hands.
"Are you willing," he inquired, "to undertake a mission
to America?"
"I am," I answered.
"Very good. How soon can you start?"
"As soon as I have paid the few bills that I owe in
Berlin," I replied.
"We can hardly wait for that," said my chief, "and in
case it might excite comment. You must start to-night!"
"Very good," I said.
"Such," said the Baron, "are the Kaiser's orders. Here
is an American passport and a photograph that will answer
the purpose. The likeness is not great, but it is
sufficient."
"But," I objected, abashed for a moment, "this photograph
is of a man with whiskers and I am, unfortunately,
clean-shaven."
"The orders are imperative," said Gestern, with official
hauteur. "You must start to-night. You can grow whiskers
this afternoon."
"Very good," I replied.
"And now to the business of your mission," continued the
Baron. "The United States, as you have perhaps heard, is
making war against Germany."
"I have heard so," I replied.
"Yes," continued Gestern. "The fact has leaked out--how,
we do not know--and is being widely reported.
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