Part 43

They told him why they were there, and Lancken, raising his hands, said:

"Impossible!"

He had vaguely heard that afternoon of a condemnation for spying, but he did not know that it had anything to do with the case of Miss Cavell, and in any event it was impossible that they would put a woman to death that night.

"Who has given you this information? Because, to come and disturb me at such an hour you must have actual information," he said.

De Leval replied: "Without doubt I consider it so, but I must refuse to tell you from whom I received the information. Besides, what difference does it make? If the information is true, our presence at this hour is justified; if it is not true, I am ready to take the consequences of my mistake."

The Baron grew irritated.

"What," he said, "is it on the hint of mere rumor that you come and disturb me at such an hour, me and these gentlemen? No, no, gentlemen, this news can not be true. Orders are never executed with such precipitation, especially when a woman is concerned. Come and see me to-morrow. Besides, how do you think that at this hour I can obtain any information? The Governor-General must certainly be sleeping."

Gibson, or one of them, suggested to him that a very simple way of finding out would be to telephone to the prison.

"Quite right," said he. "I had not thought of that."

He went out, was gone a few minutes and came back embarrassed, so they said, even a little bit ashamed, for he said:

"You are right, gentlemen; I have heard by telephone that Miss Cavell has been condemned and that she will be shot to-night."

Then de Leval drew out the letter that I had written to the Baron and gave it to him, and he read it in an undertone--with a little sardonic smile, de Leval said--and when he had finished he handed it back to de Leval and said:

"But it is necessary to have a plea for mercy at the same time."

"Here it is," said de Leval, and gave him the document. Then they all sat down.

I could see the scene as it was described to me by Villalobar, by Gibson, by de Leval, in that pretty little Louis XVI. salon that I knew so well--Lancken giving way to an outburst of feeling against "that spy," as he called Miss Cavell, and Gibson and de Leval by turns pleading with him, the Marquis sitting by. It was not a question of spying as they pointed out; it was a question of the life of a woman, a life that had been devoted to charity, to helping others. She had nursed wounded soldiers, she had even nursed German wounded at the beginning of the war, and now she was accused of but one thing: having helped English soldiers make their way toward Holland. She may have been imprudent, she may have acted against the laws of the occupying power, but she was not a spy, she was not even accused of being a spy, she had not been convicted of spying, and she did not merit the death of a spy. They sat there pleading, Gibson and de Leval, bringing forth all the arguments that would occur to men of sense and sensibility. Gibson called Lancken's attention to their failure to inform the Legation of the sentence, of their failure to keep the word that Conrad had given. He argued that the offense charged against Miss Cavell had long since been accomplished, that as she had been for some weeks in prison a slight delay in carrying out the sentence could not endanger the German cause; he even pointed out the effect such a deed as the summary execution of the death sentence against a woman would have upon public opinion, not only in Belgium, but in America, and elsewhere; he even spoke of the possibility of reprisals.

But it was all in vain. Baron von der Lancken explained to them that the Military Governor, that is, General von Saubersweig, was the supreme authority in matters of this sort, that an appeal from his decision lay only to the Emperor, that the Governor-General himself had no authority to intervene in such cases, and that under the provisions of German martial law it lay within the discretion of the Military Governor whether he would accept or refuse an appeal for clemency. And then Villalobar suddenly cried out:

"Oh, come now! It's a woman; you can't shoot a woman like that!"

The Baron paused, was evidently moved.

"Gentlemen," he said, "it is past eleven o'clock; what can be done?"

It was only von Saubersweig who could act, he had said, and they urged the Baron to go to see von Saubersweig. Finally he consented. While he was gone Villalobar, Gibson and de Leval repeated to Harrach and von Falkenhausen all the arguments that might move them. Von Falkenhausen was young, he had been to Cambridge in England, and he was touched, though of course he was powerless. And de Leval says that when he gave signs of showing pity, Harrach cast a glance at him, so that he said nothing more, and then Harrach said:

"The life of one German soldier seems to us much more important than that of all these old English nurses."

At last Lancken returned and, standing there, announced:

"I am exceedingly sorry, but the Governor tells me that only after due reflection was the execution decided upon, and that he will not change his decision. Under his prerogative he even refuses to receive the plea for mercy. Therefore, no one, not even the Emperor, can do anything for you."

With this he handed my letter and the requête en grace back to Gibson. There was a moment of silence in the yellow salon. Then Villalobar sprang up and seizing Lancken by the shoulder said to him in an energetic tone:

"Baron, I wish to speak to you."

"It is useless," began Lancken.

But the old Spanish pride had been mounting in the Marquis, and he literally dragged the tall von der Lancken into a little room near by, and then voices were heard in sharp discussion, and even through the partition the voice of Villalobar:

"It is idiotic, this thing you are going to do; you will have another Louvain."