Chapter Eleven

The officers of the Second Bureau were not really quite such easy dupes as Mata Hari had supposed them to be. True, her first visit to their departmental offices had produced a momentary pang of disappointment which was speedily dispelled. The reason the spy had given for approaching them was her urgent need for money, a very plausible excuse for one with her extravagant tastes, but it was learned on enquiry that her bank account enjoyed an unaccustomed balance. Thus relieved of their first anxiety, that their zeal had alarmed the spy and that she would become more cautious than ever, and persuaded that there was a dangerous underlying motive for her extraordinary conduct, they decided to allow the affair to follow a natural course in the expectation that something more might be learned.

The news of the German submarines increased their perplexity. To anyone unaware of the tortuous methods of secret services this piece of information and the use made of it presents special interest. The betrayal seems inexplicable. Here was a woman who pretended to have been working 191in the comparative isolation of a field ambulance in the forward area, and had been performing in Spanish theatres, volunteering knowledge which had eluded the search of the cleverest agents in the French service working with infinitely greater resources. If the information was false no good purpose could be served in surrendering it. If it was true, how could she have obtained knowledge of it? Certainly none of the neutral diplomats in Paris was in any position to become acquainted with such a treasured secret as the submarine cruises, but even if she had obtained the knowledge from an outside source Mata Hari had been a spy too long to be unconscious of the risks she ran by committing such a breach of confidence. It was suicide if unauthorized. Information of this nature was so jealously guarded that only those immediately concerned with the allocation of the duties could ever have possession of it (often the submarine commanders received sealed orders), and to share such secrets was equivalent to an admission that she was in the innermost counsels of the enemy. We have already said that it is futile to apply the ordinary standards of conduct to the secret-service agent. Here is further proof. The revelation of such information to gain the confidence 192of the enemy is a method advocated in the German manual of military Intelligence.

The betrayal is inexplicable to anyone unaware of the prodigious lengths to which the harassed German secret service were prepared to go in order to purchase their reputation for omniscience. The lives of two submarine crews was the price offered to purchase French faith in Mata Hari, so that she might secure a confidential mission for the purpose of betraying that faith. As an example of German psychology this act would be amusing if it were not so amazingly tragic, because the only object it could possibly achieve with men accustomed to the curious procedure of volunteer agents, was to confirm suspicion. There always did exist the possibility that Mata Hari’s offer of service might be genuine, but the accuracy of this priceless information she offered as bait removed any shadow of doubt that there was some deep underlying purpose.

It would, however, be interesting to know what the crews of other German submarines would think of this inhuman bargain which sacrificed their comrades to the needs of a secret service who were thus advertising their incompetence to deal with a situation that must have been foreseen during the many years of study devoted to the plan of invading 193Belgium. Or was the treacherous betrayal a subtle means by which the German naval authorities disciplined the recalcitrant crews of two submarines? Was it their intention, in throwing victims to the lions, to conceal the hand that was becoming too feeble to chastise them? Whatever the motive, the incident stands out as a piece of defective psychology; worse than inhuman, it was stupid. Instead of producing a feeling of trust in Mata Hari it irrevocably condemned her.

The next step was to uncover her real motive. The French had only a dark hint that Mata Hari had been instructed to obtain some other information than the landing-place of spies dropped from airplanes and the preparations for the spring offensive. In her correspondence received through the neutral embassy had come a request for her to expedite this work, a sure proof of its urgency, so much was known to the French through the intercepted message. The surest way to find out what Mata Hari was after, was to allow her to make a choice from the many missions available. The choice she made, of getting into communication with French agents in Belgium, revealed to the French officers the unrest caused by their steady repair of the organization that had been crippled by the German coup before the battle of Verdun. 194That Mata Hari was under the impression she had been successful in her quest is proved by the sequel. But what she did with the two secret documents entrusted to her care is an unsolved mystery. That they reached her chiefs is beyond doubt, but what channel she used for their conveyance has to this day remained a problem.

What of the French betrayal of their agents? Was it not on a par with the German betrayal of submarine crews? Not quite.

Shortly after Mata Hari left on her mission the German counter-espionage service in Brussels arrested a French agent whose name was on the list supplied to Mata Hari. Three weeks later he was shot. That only one man from a possible twelve should suffer requires some explanation. The name of that one man happened to be the only genuine name on the list and it had been put there with a purpose; the other names were all of fictitious persons. The selected victim was a traitor who was serving two masters without honesty to either, for, while he was working for the French and accepting their pay, he was performing a like service and receiving a similar reward from the enemy. No nation has any use for the double spy of this type; his potential danger is too considerable and he is beyond discipline. Since this man was secure 195behind the German lines, he was out of the reach of punishment by the French, but by giving a hint of his dual occupation to the German police the punishment was left to them. We know that it was carried out efficiently, to the mutual satisfaction of both sides.

Now came the question of dealing with Mata Hari. The French argued that since she was deliberately betraying them in a way which was bound to become known to them, her work in Paris was completed with the accomplishment of this mission and she was seeking a safe means of escape to Holland, possibly with other and more dangerous knowledge gathered from some of her influential and well-informed associates. They were determined that she should not reach her German lover who had been controlling her work, but, on the other hand, to detain her would arouse the suspicion that they knew of her treachery, and they did want her to send that list of spies to Holland. First, because it would remove one traitor, second, because it might furnish them with the evidence they sought to bring about her condemnation. Unfortunately, they did not secure tangible evidence of her guilt; that escaped them. The co-operation of the London police was, therefore, invited, but even under their alert observation and the employment 196of different methods nothing could be learned. During her absence from her hotel the police undertook a thorough search of her luggage, but failed to find the missing secret documents. Upon which it was assumed that she had contrived to slip them through unobserved to her employers. The next thing was to render her powerless to commit any further damage to the Allied cause.

So, when Mata Hari left London in the dead of night with the comfortable feeling that she had outwitted the united secret services of two countries and was headed for a tranquil haven where she could afford to laugh over danger as only an unpleasant memory, she was wholly unprepared for the situation which awaited the dawn. When day broke and she went on deck to see the low-lying coast line of her native land she was greeted by the sight of unbroken sea. Nothing else was visible. When she addressed a question to one of the ship’s officers the awful realization that she had been made the victim of the preposterous humour of the London police (a sense of humour that often has a salty flavour) was revealed in his reply.

“We shall not land for another two days, madame,” said the officer.

197“What, does the journey to Holland take so long now?” she asked in dismay.

“Holland? Why Holland?” asked the officer. “We are bound for Spain and you will be in Cadiz in two days’ time—that is, if the submarines do not get us.”

And of all the places in the world the one for which she had least desire to visit was the Spanish capital, to which she must go from Cadiz.

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