An Officer and a Spy

replacement is an Arab, Jemel, and if he is a spy, as I assume he must be, he is too good for me to catch him out; in consequence, I rather miss Savignaud and his familiar, clumsy ways.
    Jemel glides to a stop alongside my chair and salutes. ‘You have a telegram, Colonel.’
    It is from army headquarters in Tunis: The Ministry of War today orders Colonel Picquart to proceed immediately to El-Ouatia to investigate and if possible verify reports of hostile Bedouin cavalry massing in the vicinity of Tripoli. Please report to me to discuss the implications of your mission before your departure. Cordially yours, Leclerc.
    Jemel says, ‘Will there be a reply, Colonel?’
    For a moment I am too surprised to speak. I read the telegram again, just to make sure I am not hallucinating.
    ‘Yes,’ I say eventually. ‘Will you please telegraph General Leclerc and tell him that I shall report to him tomorrow?’
    ‘Of course, Colonel.’
    After Jemel has shimmied off into the afternoon heat, I study the telegram again. El-Ouatia?
    The following morning I catch the train to Tunis. In my briefcase I have a file: ‘Intelligence report on the assassination of the marquis de Morès’. I know it well: I wrote it – one of the few real accomplishments of my time in Africa.
    Morès, a fanatical anti-Semite and the most celebrated duellist of the day, came to Tunisia two years ago with a madcap plan to lead an Arab revolt against the British Empire, starting with a trek across the Tunisian Sahara – an area beyond law and civilisation, where Bedouin caravans still occasionally pass trailing columns of Negro slaves chained at the neck. Nevertheless, ignoring all warnings, he set off with a party of thirty, following the coast before heading south from Gabes into the desert.
    Riding a camel, escorted by six Tuareg whom he saw as the nucleus of his private army, Morès struck camp on the morning of 8 June last year. He was a mile ahead of the rest of his followers when Bedouin fighters began to appear all around him. At that instant his escort fell upon him and attempted to seize his Winchester rifle and revolver. Morès shot two of his assailants dead with his revolver, mortally wounded a third and then ran forty metres to a nearby tree, shooting two more of the pursuing Tuareg. Dropping to his knees, he reloaded and awaited rescue from the remainder of his expedition. But they, too frightened or treacherous to move, had halted a kilometre away. The heat of the day grew fierce. One Tuareg went forward to pretend to parley with the marquis; in reality he wanted to find out how many bullets he had left. Desperate, Morès seized him round the throat as a hostage. Soon afterwards the man broke free, whereupon Morès shot him dead. But the distraction had lasted long enough for his assassins to get closer. The marquis was hit by a rifle bullet in the back of the neck. His money belt was cut open and a hundred and eighty gold pieces were stolen. His corpse was stripped and mutilated.
    The Second Department wanted to know if the British secret service had organised the murder. I was able to assure them that was not the case. Instead, the real lesson of the episode was clear: to venture so far south with anything less than a full infantry brigade plus cavalry and artillery would be suicidal. The name of the place where Morès died was El-Ouatia.
    The train pulls into Tunis in the middle of the afternoon. As usual I have to push through the crowd on the platform to reach the taxi rank; as usual there is a boy beside it selling La Dépêche tunisienne . I give him five centimes and settle back in the cab, and suddenly I catch my breath, for there it is – the explanation for my suicidal mission – in the middle of the front page. I should have guessed it:
DREYFUS CASE. Paris, 8h 35m. Vice President of the Senate M. Scheurer-Kestner last night created a sensation by informing L’Agence Nationale : ‘I am firmly convinced of Captain Dreyfus’s innocence and I will do everything to prove it, not only by obtaining a verdict of acquittal at the revision of his trial, but by doing him full justice and rehabilitating him completely.’ 10h 15m. Le Matin reports further comments of M. Scheurer-Kestner: ‘What methods will I use to reveal the truth? And at what time will I use them? For now that remains my secret. I have not passed the file which is in my possession to anyone, not even, as has been suggested, the President of the