“My God,” says I, “if that’s so, why the devil didn’t you ask me, like a civilised human being, instead of going through that damned charade in Munich? Of all the ridiculous, dangerous—yes, and damned bad-mannered—”

“Don’t be a fool. We will not pretend that if I had asked you, you would have come. It was necessary to use guile and force, in turn, to ensure your presence here. And to further ensure that you would be—pliable. For you have been left in no doubt what will happen to you if you do not do exactly what I require.”

“I’ve been left in no doubt that I’ve been bloody well kidnapped! And assaulted and falsely accused! I’ve been left in no doubt that you’re a damned villain. And—”

“Shall we leave these vapourings?” he broke in harshly. “You know something of what I am, and I know exactly what you are—a brutal, lecherous ruffian. Yes, but with certain abilities, which you will use as I direct.”

“What the devil is it you want, curse you? What use can I possibly be to you?”

“That is better. Give him a brandy, Kraftstein, and a cigar. Now then, Mr Flashman, you will listen to me, and what I tell you will never be repeated—never, as you love your life.”

As I think back on it now, it is still difficult to believe that it happened—that I really sat in that long room, with a glass and a cigar, while that cold, masterful man who was to be the greatest statesman of his age, outlined to me the amazing plan which was to be the first, small stepping-stone in his great career. It was mad, incredible nonsense, but it is true. Bismarck then was nothing—in the political sense, anyway. But he had dreamed his dreams (as Lola had told me years before) and now he was setting about in that cold. German certainty, to make them realities. Strange, isn’t it, that without me he could not have begun as he did? He needed the lecherous, brutal ruffian (an incomplete description, but Bismarck always was a great one for half-truths).

“Let me begin by asking you a question,” says he. “What do you know of Schleswig and Holstein?”

“Never even met ’em,” says I. Rudi laughed aloud, and de Gautet gave his sidelong smile.

Bismarck didn’t show any amusement. “They are states,” he said, “not persons. I shall tell you about them.”