THE YELLOW DOVE
“An important message has come from the Wilhelmstrasse, which indicates a mission of peculiar importance.” The General paused a moment, his keen eyes searching Captain Wentz with a terrible tensity, but the face of the younger man remained expressionless. He was merely a piece of machinery—excellent machinery.
“You may have thought it curious, Herr Hauptmann Wentz, that I should have come from the Wilhelmstrasse to Blaufelden. Is it not so?”
“It is not my duty to think, Excellenz, unless ordered to do so,” said the other briefly.
The General smiled. The answer pleased him.
“I wished to see Herr Hammersley, as you know. That is important, and the Yellow Dove cannot go to Berlin.” He stopped and then went on quickly: “Herr Hauptmann, you have been attached to the Secret Service Department three years?”
“Yes, Excellenz.”
“You have performed several important duties and have won promotion. I am now about to commit to your care, a”
At a gesture of von Stromberg’s thumb the officer went on tiptoe to the door and opened it quickly.
“No one, Excellenz.”
“Good. Now sit. First, you speak French without accent.”
“That was a part of my qualification for this service.”
“Yes. It is in my mind to give you an important mission—one which will require great skill and fortitude.”
Wentz listened attentively, but he made no comment.
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