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diff --git a/41131-0.txt b/41131-0.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..aa09ebd --- /dev/null +++ b/41131-0.txt @@ -0,0 +1,6522 @@ +*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41131 *** + +Number 70, Berlin +A Story of Britain's Peril. +By William Le Queux +Published by Hodder and Stoughton, London, New York, Toronto. + +Number 70, Berlin, by William Le Queux. + +________________________________________________________________________ + +________________________________________________________________________ +NUMBER 70, BERLIN, BY WILLIAM LE QUEUX. + +CHAPTER ONE. + +THE MAN OF THE MOMENT. + +"That man knows too much!" + +"Do you really think he overheard?" + +"He may not have done. But we must take no risks, my dear fellow. +Remember we are at war! With people who know too much there's but one +way--dismissal," declared Lewin Rodwell, the tall, well-groomed +middle-aged man, in morning-coat and grey trousers, who stood in the +panelled boardroom with his chairman, Sir Boyle Huntley, the other +directors having left after the weekly meeting of the board. + +"He might talk--eh?" Sir Boyle remarked in a low, apprehensive tone. + +"He would probably fear the law of libel," said Lewin Rodwell, +fair-haired, sleek, rather refined, who, at the moment, was one of the +most popular and patriotic figures in London--a man whose praises were +sung constantly in the halfpenny press, and who numbered peers, Cabinet +Ministers and diplomats among his friends. + +His companion, ten years his senior, was of a different type--a somewhat +uncouth man, with a reddish, bloated face, dark hair tinged with grey, +deep-set crafty eyes, and a voice which betrayed his cockney birth and +breeding, which even his Birthday baronetcy could not disguise. + +Both men, of humble origin, had won considerable fortune in the City and +had worked together on the boards of many companies more or less +prosperous. They were "keen business men"--which, in these days, seems +to be the accepted description of those who are not above descending to +sharp practices--and indeed, if the truth be told, had been guilty of +certain financial juggling which would have looked very ugly against +them if placed before a court of law. + +Yet what they had done had been done within the law, and their hands +were, consequently, just as clean as those of hundreds of other +company-directors in the City of London. + +Rodwell, with his back to the fire--for it was a cold, dark November +afternoon in the year 1914--slowly lit a good cigar which he took from +his case, while Sir Boyle fidgeted uneasily with some papers at the +table. + +"How shall you get rid of that unnecessary fellow?" he asked his friend +at last. "If he were dismissed now, he'd at once guess the reason, and +might become our enemy." + +"Enemy! Bosh!" laughed Lewin Rodwell, scornfully. "There's no fear of +that, my dear chap. Leave him to me. I shall do nothing till after our +meeting next Thursday. Then we can call in Charlesworth and tell him +that the fellow--Sainsbury is his name, I believe--is a slacker, and +ought to join the army. Owing to the war we must cut down expenditure-- +you know. He must go, and several others too--in order to give our +economy a flavour of truth." + +"Charlesworth has always spoken very highly of him. He'll certainly +urge us to keep him," the chairman remarked, looking blankly into the +fire. "Only a fortnight ago his name was on the list of employees to be +retained throughout the war." + +"I know. But if Sainsbury has overheard what I said, then he's better +outside this building than in it," Rodwell declared emphatically, +drawing heavily at his cigar. + +"You were a confounded fool to speak of such matters outside your own +room at home, Lewin. It was most indiscreet. It isn't like you." + +"I know. I was a confounded fool," the other admitted. "But I had no +idea anyone had entered. He wears those infernal rubber things on his +heels. But leave it to me. I'll clear him out all right." + +"It must be done most delicately. He mustn't, for a single moment, +suspect the reason of his dismissal." + +Lewin Rodwell reflected for a second, and then, as though in his active, +clever brain a sudden suggestion had arisen, he laughed and replied: + +"There are more ways than one by which to crush an enemy, my dear +Boyle--as you yourself know. Leave all to me, and I can guarantee that +we shall have nothing to fear from this young prig, Sainsbury. So set +your mind at ease at once over it." + +"Very well, Lewin. I know how clever you always are in avoiding +trouble," laughed Sir Boyle Huntley. "Had it not been for you we'd both +have more than once been in a very tight corner. As it is we've +prospered famously, and--well, I suppose the world thinks quite a lot of +us--especially of you--the man who does so much good and charitable work +without any thought of reward--purely as a patriotic Briton." + +Lewin Rodwell winked knowingly, and both men laughed aloud. + +Rodwell's eye caught the clock. It was half-past four. + +"By Jove! I must fly!" he cried. "I promised to be at Lady Betty's +soon after four. Trustram, of the Admiralty, will be there, and I +particularly want to meet him. I've got my car. Can I drop you +anywhere?" + +"Yes. At the Constitutional. I'm meeting a man there." + +So the pair, leaving the room, were helped on with their overcoats by an +obsequious liveried servant and, descending in the lift, passed through +the handsome set of offices where a hundred clerks were working beneath +the electric-light, and out into Gracechurch Street, where Rodwell's +fine limousine was awaiting him; the footman standing with the fur rug +ready to throw over his master's knees. + +On their way through the City the elder man reverted to the subject they +had discussed in the boardroom of The Ochrida Copper Corporation--one of +the greatest copper concerns in the world--and, drawing a long breath, +he said: + +"I really do hope that young fellow heard nothing. What if he knew-- +eh?" + +"Of course he heard," was his co-director's reply. "But whether he +understood is quite another thing." + +"I fear he did understand." + +"Why?" + +"Because, as he left the room, I watched his face, and saw both +suspicion and surprise upon it." + +"Bah! My dear Boyle, don't let that worry you for a second longer," +Rodwell laughed, as the car sped silently along Queen Victoria Street +and across to the Embankment. "Even if he does suspect he'll soon be +rendered quite harmless. When Lewin Rodwell makes up his mind to sweep +an enemy from his path, you know that the enemy always disappears." + +"I know that," replied the Baronet, with a slight hardening at the +corners of his flabby mouth. Perhaps he recollected the fate of certain +other enemies. He well knew the callous unscrupulousness of his friend +and associate in his determined efforts to get rich quickly. Indeed, +they had both got rich very quickly--more especially Rodwell--during the +past four or five years by methods which would never bear investigation. +Yet, as in so many other cases in our great complex London, the world +regarded him as a perfectly honest and trustworthy man--a true Briton, +who was ever ready to place both his valuable time and his money at the +disposal of the British cause against her barbaric enemy. + +"Sainsbury will never trouble us, I assure you," he repeated, as at last +Sir Boyle alighted in Northumberland Avenue, and he waved him a cheery +good-bye as he went up the steps of the club. + +Then, as the car re-started off to Upper Brook Street, Lewin Rodwell sat +back, his hands resting idly on the fur rug, his cold, round blue eyes +staring straight before him, the skin drawn rather tightly over his +cheek-bones, giving him a look haggard and quite unusual. + +"Yes," he exclaimed to himself, drawing a long breath, "Boyle is quite +right. That young man suspects--curse him! Phew! I must close his +mouth somehow. But how? That's the question. In these days, with the +Government deceiving the people and lulling them into a false sense of +security, the very least breath of suspicion quickly becomes magnified +into an open scandal. And scandal, as far as I am concerned, would mean +that I should be compelled to invite investigation. Could I bear such a +test?" he asked. "Gad! no!" he gasped. + +He set his lips firmly, and his eyes narrowed. He tossed his cigar +angrily out into the roadway. It tasted bitter. + +As the car went up the Haymarket, boys were crying the evening papers. +Upon the contents-bill he noticed that the British were fighting +gallantly at the Yser, stemming the tide of the Devil's spawn, who were +endeavouring to strike a death-blow at French's little army and get +through to Calais. + +He smiled at his own strange thoughts, and then sank back into the soft +cushions, again reflecting. That _contretemps_ in the boardroom had +really unnerved him. It unnerved him so much, indeed, that from +Piccadilly Circus he drove to his club and swallowed a stiff +brandy-and-soda--an action quite unusual to him--and then he went along +to Upper Brook Street. + +When the rather pompous elderly butler announced him at the door of the +large drawing-room, Lady Betty Kenworthy, a tall, middle-aged woman, +rose, greeting the great man affably, and then she introduced him to the +dozen or so of her friends who were gossiping over their teacups--the +names of most of them being household words both to those in society and +the readers of the halfpenny picture-papers out of it. + +Lady Betty, a well-preserved, good-looking woman, whose boy was at the +front, was one of those leaders of society who, at the outbreak of war, +for want of something more exciting, had become the leader of a +movement. In London, after the first few months of war, the majority of +society women took up one movement or another: red cross, Serbian +relief, socks for the troops, comforts for mine-sweepers, huts for +soldiers, work for women, hose-extensions for Highlanders, or one or +other of the thousand-and-one "movements" which cropped up and duly +found their places in the advertisement columns of the _Times_. + +Lady Betty Kenworthy's particular movement was the Anti-Teuton +Alliance--an association formed by a few patriotic enthusiasts who bound +themselves to take action against the hated German in every way--to +expose and intern the enemy in our midst, to free the country from the +baneful German influence which has spread into every sphere of our +national life, to purchase no goods of German origin, to ban the German +language, and to discover the existence of the pro-German sentiment, +German intrigue, and the expenditure of German gold--"palm-oil" one +distinguished writer has called it--in official and Parliamentary +circles. + +The programme was, to say the least, a wide and laudable one, and +afforded ample scope to the thousands of members who had enrolled +themselves. + +In Lady Betty's drawing-room that afternoon the committee of the +movement had assembled, eager to meet Mr Lewin Rodwell, who had shown +such patriotism that even Cabinet Ministers had publicly bestowed great +praise upon his ceaseless and self-denying efforts. + +There were present, first of all, the usual set of society women of +uncertain age, dressed in the latest French models, which gave them an +air of youth, yet, at the same time, accentuated their angularity and +unnatural freshness; two or three elderly men, led there against their +will by their strong-minded spouses, a pretty girl or two from nowhere, +and one or two male enthusiasts, including two good-looking and +merry-going peers who were loud in their condemnation of the whole +Government--from the Prime Minister downwards. + +Among those to whom the great and much-advertised Lewin Rodwell was +introduced was a rather thick-set, dark-haired, clean-shaven, +middle-aged man named Charles Trustram, a thoroughly John Bull type of +Englishman, who occupied a highly responsible position in the Transport +department of the Admiralty. + +The two men shook hands warmly, whereupon Trustram expressed his great +pleasure at meeting a man so famous as Lewin Rodwell. + +"I came here this afternoon, Mr Rodwell, on purpose to meet you," he +assured him. "Lady Kenworthy told me you were coming, and I know the +committee of the Anti-Teuton Alliance, of which I'm a member, are most +eager to enlist your influence." + +"I'll be most delighted," declared Rodwell, in his charmingly affable +manner. "I think the movement is a really excellent one. Without a +doubt the question has become very serious indeed. There are Germans +and German influence in our midst in quarters quite unexpected and +undiscovered--high official quarters too. Can we, therefore, be +surprised if things don't always go as they should?" + +"Exactly," said the Admiralty official, as they both took seats together +on a couch against the wall. "There's no doubt that the Germans, as +part of their marvellous preparedness, made an audacious attempt to +weave a network of vile treachery in our Government Departments and, +above all, in the War Office and Admiralty. As an official I can tell +you, in strictest confidence of course, that I have, several times of +late, had my suspicions seriously aroused. Information leaks out. +How--nobody--not even our Intelligence Department itself can discover." + +"My dear sir," exclaimed Rodwell confidentially, "is it really to be +wondered at when men of German birth and German descent are employed in +nearly all the various departments in Whitehall? After all, are we not +to-day fighting for our country's life and freedom? Certainly those who +come after us would never forgive us--you and I--those who, if born into +a Germanised world and held under the iron yoke of barbaric `Kultur,' +looked back to our conduct of the war that sealed their fate and found +that, besides supplying the enemy with war material--cotton and the +like--we actually harboured Germans in our camp and gave them knowledge, +power and position vital to the enemy's success. And I assert to-day, +Mr Trustram, that we treat Germany as the `most-favoured nation,' even +though the flower of our land are being sacrificed by thousands and +thousands upon the fields of Flanders. Yes, it is an outrageous +scandal--a disgrace to our nation. As I said in a speech at Liverpool +last week, we are daily being misled, misguided, and lured to our +destruction. And for that reason," the great man added--"for that +reason I'm only too ready and anxious to help the Anti-Teuton Alliance +in their splendid crusade against this canker-worm in England's heart." + +Lady Betty, seated quite near, talking to a dowager-duchess, overheard +him. He had purposely spoken loudly and emphatically, with that object. + +"Good! Mr Rodwell," her ladyship cried. "Excellent! I am so +delighted that you thoroughly approve of our efforts. We are trying to +do our share, in this terrible crisis. You are such a busy man that I +almost feared to ask you to help us." + +"I am never too busy, Lady Kenworthy, to help in such a good cause as +this," he assured her, in that suave manner of his which stood him in +such good stead at times. "True, I am rather a busy man, as everyone +has to be in these days. We, in the City, have to bear our share in +finance, for we know that one day--sooner or later--the Government will +require a big loan to carry on the war. And when they do, we hope to be +as ready to meet it as the industrial population of the country will no +doubt be. Still, to us it means much thought. We have no time nowadays +for any idle week-ends, or golf by the sea." + +At mention of golf Lady Betty smiled. She knew well that it was the +great man's habit to play golf at Sunningdale or Walton Heath with +various important personages. + +The conversation regarding the aims and aspirations of the Anti-Teuton +Alliance grew general, and everyone was much gratified to hear Mr Lewin +Rodwell's reiterated approval of it, especially the half-dozen ascetic, +hard-faced women who made "movements" the chief object of their lives. + +Lewin Rodwell smiled inwardly at them all, sipped the cup of China tea +offered him by a slim, dark-haired, loosely-clad girl who secretly +regarded him as a hero, and then talked loudly, airing his opinion of +"what the Government really ought to do." To him, the huge farce was +amusing. Lady Betty was, of course, "a good sort," but he knew quite +well that her association with the Anti-Teuton movement was merely for +the sake of advertisement and notoriety--in order to go one better than +the Countess of Chesterbridge, who had, for years, been her rival on the +face of the social barometer--which, after all, was the personal columns +of the daily newspapers. + +After an hour, when most of the guests had left, Rodwell rose at last +and said to Trustram, with whom he had had a long and very intimate +chat: + +"I really do wish you'd run in and see me, Mr Trustram. I'd be so +awfully delighted. I'm sure we can do something together in order to +expose this terrible scandal. Will you?" + +"Most certainly. I'll be most pleased." + +"Good. Can't you dine with me--say on Tuesday?" + +His newly-found friend reflected a moment, and then replied in the +affirmative. + +"Excellent. Tuesday at eight--eh? You know my address." + +"Yes--in Bruton Street." + +"Right--that's an appointment," Rodwell exclaimed cheerily; and then, +after bending low over Lady Betty's thin white hand, he left. + +CHAPTER TWO. + +THE SUSPICIONS OF ELISE. + +At nine o'clock that same evening, in a well-furnished drawing-room +half-way up Fitzjohn's Avenue, in Hampstead, a pretty, blue-eyed, +fair-haired girl of twenty-one sat at the piano alone, playing a gay +French chanson, to pass away the time. + +Dressed in a dainty little dinner-gown of carnation pink, and wearing in +her well-dressed hair a touch of velvet to match, she presented a pretty +picture beneath the shaded electric-light which fell over the instrument +set in a corner. + +Her mother, Mrs Shearman, a charming, grey-haired lady, had just gone +out, while her father, Daniel Shearman, a rich tool-manufacturer, whose +works were outside Birmingham, was away at the factory, as was his habit +three days each week. + +Elise Shearman was just a typical athletic English girl. In her early +youth her parents were "making their way in the world," but at fourteen +she had been sent abroad to school, first to Lausanne, and afterwards to +Dresden, where she had studied music, as so many English girls have +done. + +On her return to Hampstead, whither her father had removed from the +grime and toil of work-a-day Birmingham, she found her home very dull. +Because the Shearmans were manufacturers, the snobbishness of Hampstead, +with its "first Thursdays," would have nothing to do with them; though, +if the truth were told, Dan Shearman could have bought up most of his +neighbours in Fitzjohn's Avenue, and was a sterling good Englishman into +the bargain--which could not be said of some of those slippery, +smooth-tongued City adventurers who resided behind the iron railings of +that select thoroughfare. + +Running her slim white hands over the keys, she began the gay refrain of +one of the chansonettes which she had learned in Paris--one of the gay +songs of the boulevards, which was, perhaps, not very apropos for young +ladies, but which she often sang because of its gay, blithe air-- +Belloche's "L'Eventail Parisien." + +In her sweet, musical treble she sang gaily-- + + Des qu'arrivent les grand's chaleurs, + A la terrass' des brasseries + Les eventails de tout's couleurs + Viennent bercer nos reveries. + Car, pour allecher le client, + Le camelot toujours cocasse + En s'eventant d'un air bonasse + Envoi' ce petit boniment: + +And then, with a swing and go, she sang the chorus-- + + Ca va, ca vient, + Ca donn' de l'air, ca fait du bien. + C'est vraiment magnifique. + Quel instrument magique! + Ca va, ca vient, + Ca donn' de l'air et du maintien + Et ca ne coute presque rien: + Voici l'eventail parisien! + +Hardly had she concluded the final line when the door opened and a tall, +dark-haired, good-looking young man entered, crossed to her, and, +placing his hand upon her shoulder, bent and kissed her fondly. + +"Why, Jack, dear--you really are late!" the girl exclaimed. "Were you +kept at the office?" + +"Yes, dearest," was his answer. "Or rather I had some work that I +particularly wanted to finish, so I stayed behind." + +He was tall and broad-shouldered, with a pair of keen, merry brown eyes, +a handsome face with high, intelligent brow, as yet unlined by care, a +small, dark moustache, and a manner as courteous towards a woman as any +diplomat accredited to the Court of St James. + +Jack Sainsbury, though merely an employee of the Ochrida Copper +Corporation, a man who went by "Tube" to the City each morning and +returned each night to the modest little flat in Heath Street, at which +his sister Jane acted as housekeeper for him, was an honest, upright +Englishman who had, in the first month of the war, done his duty and +gone to the recruiting office of the Honourable Artillery Company to +enlist. + +A defective elbow-joint had prevented him passing the doctor. And +though no one in the office knew he had tried to join the new army, he +had returned to the City and continued his soul-killing avocation of +adding figures and getting out totals. + +His meeting with Elise Shearman was not without its romantic side. + +One Sunday morning, two years before, he had been riding his motor-cycle +up to Hatfield, as was his habit, to meet at the Red Lion--that old inn +that is the rendezvous of all motor-cyclists--the men and women who come +out there each Sunday morning, wet or fine, from London. Fine cars, +driven by their owners, turn into the inn-yard all the morning, but the +motor-cyclist ignores them. It is the meeting-place of the man on the +cycle. + +One well-remembered Sunday morning Elise, who was advanced enough to put +on a Burberry with a leather strap around her waist and sit astride on a +motor-cycle, was careering up the North Road beyond Barnet when, of a +sudden, she swerved to avoid a cart, and ran headlong into a ditch. + +At the moment Jack Sainsbury, who chanced to be behind her, stopped, +sprang off, and went to her assistance. + +She lay in the ditch with her arm broken. Quickly he obtained medical +aid, and eventually brought her home to Fitzjohn's Avenue, where he had, +with her father's knowledge and consent, been a constant visitor ever +since. + +Jack Sainsbury, whose father, and his family before him, had been +gentlemen-farmers for two centuries in Leicestershire, was, above all, a +thorough-going Englishman. He was no smug, get-on-at-all-hazards person +of the consumptive type one meets at every turn in the City. On the +contrary, he was a well-set-up, bold, straightforward, fearless fellow +who, though but a clerk in a City office, was one of that clean-limbed, +splendid type which any girl would have welcomed as her hero. + +What Jack Sainsbury said, he meant. His colleagues in the office knew +that. They all regarded him as a man of high ideals, and as one whose +heart had, ever since the war, been fired with a keen and intense spirit +of patriotism. + +That Elise Shearman loved him could be seen at the first moment when he +had opened the door and crossed the threshold. Her eyes brightened, and +her full, red lips puckered sweetly as she returned his fond, passionate +kisses. + +Yes, they loved each other. Elise's parents knew that. Sometimes they +were anxious, for Dan Shearman felt that it would not be altogether a +brilliant match, as far as an alliance went. Yet Mrs Shearman, on her +part, had so often pleaded, that no separation of the pair had, as yet, +been demanded. Hence they found idyllic happiness in each other's love. + +"You seem unusually thoughtful to-night, Jack!" exclaimed the girl, +tenderly smoothing his hair as they stood together clasped in each +other's arms. + +"Do I?" he answered with a start. "I really didn't know," he laughed, +aroused from his deep thoughts. + +"You are, Jack. Why?" + +"I--well, I'm really not--except perhaps--" + +"Perhaps what?" asked Elise determinedly. + +"Well, I had rather a heavy day at the office," was her lover's +hesitating reply. "And I've just remembered something." + +"Oh! business. And that's all?" + +"Yes, business, dearest," was his reply. "I must apologise if my +thoughts were, for the moment, far away," he laughed. + +"You're like father," said the girl. "He sits by the fire sometimes for +a quarter of an hour at a stretch staring into it, and thinking of his +horrid business affairs. But of course business is an obsession with +him." + +"Perhaps when I'm your father's age it will be an obsession with me," +replied Jack Sainsbury. + +"I sincerely hope it won't," she said, with a smile upon her pretty +lips. + +"It won't, if I'm able to make sufficient money to keep you properly, +darling," was the young man's fervent answer, as he bent until his +moustache lightly brushed her cheek. + +Truth to tell, he was reflecting seriously. For hours he had thought +over those strange words he had overheard on entering the boardroom that +afternoon. + +Those astounding words of Lewin Rodwell's were, in themselves, an +admission--a grave and terrible admission. + +Lewin Rodwell and Sir Boyle Huntley were engaged in a great conspiracy, +and he--Jack Sainsbury--was the only person who knew the ghastly truth. + +Those two highly patriotic men, whose praises were being sung by every +newspaper up and down the country; whose charitable efforts had brought +in hundreds of thousands of pounds and hundreds of tons of comforts for +our troops abroad; the two men whose photographs were in every journal, +and whom the world regarded as fine typical specimens of the honest +Briton, men who had raised their voices loudly against German barbarism +and intrigue, were, Jack Sainsbury knew, wearing impenetrable masks. +They were traitors! + +He alone knew the truth--a truth so remarkable and startling that, were +it told and published to the world, Great Britain would stand aghast and +bewildered at the revelation. It was inconceivable, incredible. At +times he felt himself doubting what he had really heard with his own +ears. Yet it had been Rodwell's voice, and the words had been clear and +distinct, a confession of guilt that was as plain as it was damning. + +Sir Boyle had, from his seat in the House of Commons, risen time after +time and denounced the policy of the Government in not interning every +enemy alien in the country; he had heckled the Home Secretary, and had +exposed cases of German intrigue; he had demanded that rigorous action +should be taken against the horde of German spies in our midst, and had +spoken up and down the country warning the Government and the people of +the gravity of the spy-peril, and that British citizens would take the +law in their own hands if drastic measures were not taken to crush out +the enemy in our midst. + +Yet that afternoon--by no seeking of his own--Jack Sainsbury had learnt +a truth which, even hours after the words had fallen upon his ears, left +him staggered and astounded. + +He knew the secret of those two great and influential men. + +What should he do? How should he act? + +Such was the cause of his marked thoughtfulness that night--an attitude +which Elise had not failed to notice and which considerably puzzled her. + +Mrs Shearman, a pleasant-faced, grey-haired and prosperous-looking +lady, who spoke with a strong Lancashire accent, entered the room a few +moments later, and the pair, springing aside at the sound of her +footsteps, pretended to be otherwise occupied, much to the elder lady's +amusement. + +After greeting Jack the old lady sat down with him, while Elise, at her +mother's request, returned to the piano and began to sing Leon Garnier's +"Sublime Caresse," with that catchy refrain so popular on the boulevards +of Paris and in cafes in every town in France-- + + Quand lachement + A l'autre amant + Je me livre et me donne. + Qu'a lui je m'abandonne. + Le coeur pame, + O cher aime, + C'est a toi que s'adresse + Ma sublime caresse! + +Elise, who spoke French excellently, was extremely fond of the French +chansonette, and knew a great many. Her lover spoke French quite well +also, and very frequently when they were together in the "tube" or train +they conversed in that language so that the every-day person around them +should not understand. + +To speak a foreign language amid the open mouths of the ignorant is +always secretly amusing, but not so amusing as to the one person who +unfortunately sits opposite and who knows that language even more +perfectly than the speaker--I was about to write "swanker." + +In that drawing-room of the red-brick Hampstead residence--where the +road is so steep that the vulgar London County Council Tramways have +never attempted to invade it, and consequently it is a "desirable +residential neighbourhood" according to the house-agents' +advertisements--Jack and Elise remained after Mrs Shearman had risen +and left. For another quarter of an hour they chatted and kissed +wholeheartedly, for they loved each other fondly and dearly. Then, at +ten o'clock, Jack rose to go. It was his hour, and he never overstepped +the bounds of propriety. From the first he had felt himself a mere +clerk on the forbidden ground of the successful manufacturer's home. +Dan Shearman, honest, outspoken and square, had achieved Hampstead as a +stepping-stone to Mayfair or Belgravia. To Jack Sainsbury--the man of +the fine old yeoman stock--the refinement of the red-brick and laurels +of Hampstead was synonymous with taste and breeding. To him the dull +aristocracy of the London squares was unknown, and therefore unregarded. + +How the people born in society laugh at Tom, Dick and Harry, with their +feminine folk, who, in our world of make-believe, are struggling and +fighting with one another to be regarded by the world as geniuses. +Money can bring everything--all the thousand attributes this world can +give--all except breeding and brains. + +Breed, even in the idiot, and brains in the pauper's child, will always +tell. + +When Jack Sainsbury descended the steps into Fitzjohn's Avenue and +strode down the hill to Swiss Cottage station, he was full of grave and +bitter thoughts. + +As an Englishman and a patriot, what was his line of action? That was +the sole thought which filled his mind. He loved Elise with every fibre +of his being, yet, on that evening, greater and even more serious +thoughts occupied his mind--the safety of the British Empire. + +To whom should he go? In whom dare he confide? + +As he crossed from the Avenue to the station, another thought arose +within him. Would anybody in whom he confided really believe what he +could tell them? + +Lewin Rodwell and Sir Boyle Huntley were national heroes--men against +whom no breath of suspicion as traitors had ever arisen. It was the +habit of the day to laugh at any suspicion of Britain's betrayal--an +attitude which the Government had carefully cultivated ever since the +outbreak of war. On that day the Chief of the Military Operations +Department of the War Office--in other words our Secret Service--had +been--for reasons which will one day be revealed--promoted and sent to +the front, leaving the Department in the hands of others fresh to the +work. + +Such, alas! was the British Intelligence Department--an organisation +laughed at by the Secret Services of each of our Allies. + +The folly of it all was really pathetic. + +Jack Sainsbury knew much of this. He had, indeed, been, through Dr +Jerome Jerrold, a friend of his, behind the scenes. Like all the world, +he had read the optimistic, hide-the-truth newspapers. Often he had +smiled in disbelief. Yet, on that afternoon, his worst fears had in a +single instant been confirmed. He knew the volcano upon the edge of +which Great Britain was seated. + +What should he do? How should he act? + +In the narrow booking-office of Swiss Cottage station he stood for a +moment, hesitating to take his ticket. + +Of a sudden an idea crossed his mind. He knew a certain man--his +intimate friend. Could he help him? Dare he reveal his suspicions +without being laughed at for his pains? + +Yes. He would risk being derided, because the safety of the Empire was +now at stake. + +After all, he--Jack Sainsbury--was a well-bred Briton, without a strain +of the hated Teutonic blood in his veins. + +He would speak the truth, and expose that man who was so cleverly luring +the Empire to its doom. + +He passed before the little pigeonhole of the booking-office and took +his ticket--an action which was destined to have a greater bearing upon +our national defence than any person even with knowledge of the facts +could ever dream. + +CHAPTER THREE. + +THE HOUSE IN WIMPOLE STREET. + +Just before eleven o'clock that night Jack Sainsbury stopped at a large, +rather severe house half-way up Wimpole Street--a house the door of +which could be seen in the daytime to be painted a royal blue, thus +distinguishing it from its rather dingy green-painted neighbours. + +In response to his ring at the visitors' bell, a tall, middle-aged, +round-faced manservant opened the door. + +"Is Dr Jerrold in?" Jack inquired. + +"Yes, sir," was the man's quick reply; and then, as Sainsbury entered, +he added politely: "Nice evening, sir." + +"Very," responded the visitor, laying-down his hat and stick and taking +off his overcoat in the wide, old-fashioned hall. + +Dr Jerome Jerrold, though still a young man, was a consulting physician +of considerable eminence, and, in addition, was Jack's most intimate +friend. Their fathers had been friends, living in the same remote +country village, and, in consequence, ever since his boyhood he had +known the doctor. + +Jack was a frequent visitor at the doctor's house, Jerrold always being +at home to him whenever he called. The place was big and solidly +furnished, a gloomy abode for a bachelor without any thought of +marrying. It had belonged to Jerrold's aunt, who had left it to him by +her will, together with a comfortable income; hence her nephew had found +it, situated as it was in the centre of the medical quarter of London, a +most convenient, if dull, place of abode. + +On the ground floor was the usual depressing waiting-room, with its big +round table littered with illustrated papers and magazines; behind it +the consulting-room, with its businesslike writing-table--whereon many a +good man's death-warrant had been written in that open case-book--its +heavy leather-covered furniture, and its thick Turkey carpet, upon which +the patient trod noiselessly. + +Above, in the big room on the first floor, Jerome Jerrold had his cosy +library--for he was essentially a studious man, his literary mind having +a bent for history, his "History of the Cinquecento" being one of the +standard works upon that period. Indeed, while on the ground floor all +was heavy, dull and gloomy, well in keeping with the dismal atmosphere +which all the most famous West-End doctors seem to cultivate, yet, on +the floor above, one passed instantly into far brighter, more pleasant +and more artistic surroundings. + +Without waiting for the servant, Thomasson, to conduct him upstairs, +Jack Sainsbury ran lightly up, as was his habit, and tried the door of +the doctor's den, when, to his surprise, he found it locked. + +He twisted the handle again, but it was certainly firmly fastened. + +"Jerome!" he cried, tapping at the door. "Can I come in? It's Jack!" + +But there was no reply. Sainsbury strained his ears at the door, but +could detect no movement within. + +A taxicab rushed past; then a moment later, when the sound had died +away, he cried again-- + +"Jerome! I'm here! I want to see you, old fellow. Open the door." + +Still there was no answer. + +Thomasson, standing at the foot of the wide, old-fashioned stairs, heard +his master's visitor, and asked-- + +"Is the door locked, sir?" + +"Yes," Jack shouted back. + +"That's very strange?" remarked the man. "I've let nobody in since Mr +Trustram, of the Admiralty, went away--about a quarter of an hour ago." + +"Has he been here?" Jack asked. "I met him here the other day. He +struck me as being a rather surly man, and I didn't like him at all," +declared Sainsbury, with his usual frankness. + +"Neither do I, sir, strictly between ourselves," replied Thomasson quite +frankly. "He's been here quite a lot lately. His wife consulted the +master about three months ago, and that's how they first met, I believe. +But can't you get in?" + +"No. Curious, isn't it?" + +"Very. The doctor never locks his door in the usual way," Thomasson +said, ascending the stairs with Sainsbury, and himself trying the +handle. + +He knocked loudly, asking-- + +"Are you in there, sir?" But still no response was given. + +"I can't make this out, Mr Sainsbury," exclaimed the man, turning to +him with anxiety on his pale face. "The key's in the lock--on the +inside too! He must be inside, and he's locked himself in. Why, I +wonder?" + +Jack Sainsbury bent and put his eye to the keyhole. The room within was +lit, for he could see the well-filled bookcase straight before him, and +an empty chair was plainly visible. + +Instantly he listened, for he thought in the silence--at that moment +there being an absence of traffic out in the street--that he heard a +slight sound, as though of a low, metallic click. + +Again he listened, holding his breath. He was not mistaken. A slight +but quite distinct sharp click could be heard, as though a piece of +metal had struck the window-pane. Once--twice--it was repeated, +afterwards a long-drawn sigh. + +Then he heard no more. + +"Open the door, Jerrold!" he cried impatiently. "Don't play the fool. +What's the matter, old chap?" + +"Funny--very funny--isn't it!" Thomasson exclaimed, his brows knit in +mystification. + +"Most curious," declared Sainsbury, now thoroughly anxious. "How long +was Mr Trustram here?" + +"He dined out with the doctor--at Prince's, I think--and they came back +together about half-past nine. While Mr Trustram was here he was on +the telephone twice or three times. Once he was rung up by Mr Lewin +Rodwell." + +"Mr Lewin Rodwell!" echoed Sainsbury. "Did you happen to hear anything +of their conversation?" + +"Well, not much, sir," was the servant's discreet reply. "I answered +the 'phone at first, and it was Mr Rodwell speaking. He told me who he +was, and then asked if Mr Trustram was with the doctor. I said he was, +and at once went and called him." + +"Did Mr Trustram appear to be on friendly terms with Mr Rodwell?" +asked the young man eagerly. + +"Oh! quite. I heard Mr Trustram laughing over the 'phone, and saying +`All right--yes, I quite understand. It's awfully good of you to make +the suggestion. I think it excellent. I'll propose it to-morrow--yes, +at the club to-morrow at four.'" + +Suggestion? What suggestion had Lewin Rodwell made to that official of +the Transport Department--Lewin Rodwell, of all men! + +Jack Sainsbury stood before that locked door, for the moment unable to +think. He was utterly dumbfounded. + +Those words he had heard in the boardroom in the City that afternoon had +burned themselves deeply into his brain. Lewin Rodwell was, it seemed, +a personal friend of Charles Trustram, the well-known and trusted +official to whose push-and-go the nation had been so deeply indebted-- +the man who had transported so many hundreds of thousands of our +Expeditionary Force across the Channel, with all their guns, ammunition +and equipment, without a single mishap. It was both curious and +startling. What could it all mean? + +Thomasson again hammered upon the stout old-fashioned door of polished +mahogany. + +"Speak, sir! Do speak!" he implored. "Are you all right?" + +Still there was no reply. + +"He may have fainted!" Jack suggested. "Something may have happened to +him!" + +"I hope not, sir," replied the man very anxiously. "I'll just run +outside and see whether the window is open. If so, we might get a +ladder." + +The man dashed downstairs and out into the street, but a moment later he +returned breathlessly, saying-- + +"No. Both windows are closed, just as I closed them at dusk. And the +curtains are drawn; not a chink of light is showing through. All we can +do, I fear, is to force the door." + +"You are quite sure he's in the room?" + +"Positive, sir." + +"Did you see him after Mr Trustram left?" + +"No, I didn't. I let Mr Trustram out, and as he wished me good-night +he hailed a passing taxi, and then I went down and read the evening +paper. I always have it after the doctor's finished with it." + +"Well, Thomasson, what is to be done?" asked Sainsbury, essentially a +young man of action. "We must get into this room--and at once. I don't +like the present aspect of things a bit." + +"Neither do I, sir. Below I've got the jemmy we use for opening +packing-cases. We may be able to force the door with that." + +And once again the tall, thin, wiry man disappeared below. Jack +Sainsbury did not see how the man, when he had disappeared into the +basement, stood in the kitchen his face blanched to the lips and his +thin hands trembling. + +It was only at the moment when Thomasson was alone that his marvellous +self-possession forsook him. On the floor above he remained cool, +collected, anxious, and perfectly unruffled. Below, and alone, the cook +and housemaid not having returned, they being out for a late evening at +the theatre, a craven fear possessed him. + +It would have been quite evident to the casual observer that the man, +Thomasson, possessed some secret fear of what had occurred in the brief +interval between Mr Trustram's departure and Sainsbury's arrival. Tall +and pale-faced, he stood in the big basement kitchen, with its rows of +shining plated covers and plate-racks, motionless and statuesque: his +head upon his breast, his teeth set, his cheeks as white as paper. + +But only for a moment. A second later he drew a deep breath, nerved +himself with a superhuman effort, and then, opening a cupboard, took out +a steel tool with an axe-head at one end and a curved and pronged point +at the other--very much like a burglar's jemmy. Such a tool was +constructed for strong leverage, and, quite cool as before, he carried +it up the two flights of stairs to where Jack stood before the locked +door, eager and impatient. + +Sainsbury, being the younger of the pair, took it, and inserting the +flat chisel-like end into the slight crevice between the stout polished +door and the lintel, worked it in with leverage, endeavouring to break +the lock from its fastening. + +This proved unsuccessful, for, after two or three attempts, the woodwork +of the lintel suddenly splintered and gave way, leaving the door locked +securely as before. + +Time after time he tried, but with no other result than breaking away +the lintel of the door. + +What mystery might not be contained in that locked room? + +His hands trembled with excitement and nervousness. Once he had thought +of summoning the police by telephone, but such an action might, he +thought, for certain reasons which he knew, annoy his friend the doctor, +therefore he hesitated. + +Probably Jerrold had fainted, and as soon as they could get at him he +would recover and be quite right again. He knew how strenuously he had +worked of late at Guy's, in those wards filled with wounded soldiers. +Only two days before, Jerrold had told him, in confidence, that he very +much feared a nervous breakdown, and felt that he must get away and have +a brief rest. + +Because of that, Sainsbury believed that his friend had fainted after +his hard day at the hospital, and that as soon as they could reach him +all would be well. + +But why had he locked the door of his den? For what reason had he +desired privacy as soon as Trustram had left him? + +Again and again both of them used the steel lever upon the door, until +at last, taking it from Thomasson's hands, Jack placed the bright curved +prong half-way between the lock and the ground and, with a well-directed +blow, he threw his whole weight upon it. + +There was a sharp snap, a crackling of wood, the door suddenly flew back +into the room, and the young man, carried by the impetus of his body, +fell headlong forward upon the dark red carpet within. + +CHAPTER FOUR. + +HIS DYING WORDS. + +When Jack recovered himself he scrambled to his feet and gazed around. + +The sight which met both their eyes caused them ejaculations of +surprise, for, near the left-hand window, the heavy plush curtains of +which were drawn, Dr Jerrold was lying, face downwards and motionless, +his arms outstretched over his head. + +Quite near lay his pet briar pipe, which had fallen suddenly from his +mouth, showing that he had been in the act of smoking as, in crossing +the room, he had been suddenly stricken. + +Without a word, both Sainsbury and Thomasson fell upon their knees and +lifted the prostrate form. The limbs were warm and limp, yet the white +face, with the dropped jaw and the aimless, staring eyes, was horrible +to behold. + +"Surely he's not dead, sir!" gasped the manservant anxiously, in an awed +voice. + +"I hope not," was Sainsbury's reply. "If so, there's a mystery here +that we must solve." Then, bending to him, he shook him slightly and +cried, "Jerome! Jerome! Speak to me. Jack Sainsbury!" + +"I'll get some water," suggested Thomasson, and, springing up, he +crossed the room to where, upon a side-table, stood a great crystal bowl +full of flowers. These he cast aside, and, carrying the bowl across, +dashed water into his master's face. + +Sainsbury, who had the doctor's head raised upon his knee, shook him and +repeated his appeal, yet the combined efforts of the pair failed to +arouse the prostrate man. + +"What can have happened?" queried Jack, gazing into the wide-open, +staring eyes of his friend, as he pulled his limp body towards him and +examined his hands. + +"It's a mystery, sir--ain't it?" remarked Thomasson. + +"One thing is certain--that the attack was very sudden. Look at his +pipe! It's still warm. He was smoking when, of a sudden, he must have +collapsed." + +"I'll ring up Sir Houston Bird, over in Cavendish Square. He's the +doctor's greatest friend," suggested Thomasson, and next moment he +disappeared to speak to the well-known pathologist, leaving Sainsbury to +gaze around the room of mystery. + +It was quite evident that something extraordinary had occurred there in +the brief quarter of an hour which had elapsed between Mr Trustram's +departure and Jack's arrival. But what had taken place was a great and +inscrutable mystery. + +Sainsbury recollected that strange metallic click he had heard so +distinctly. Was it the closing of the window? Had someone escaped from +the room while he had been so eagerly trying to gain entrance there? + +He gazed down into his friend's white, drawn face--a weird, haggard +countenance, with black hair. The eyes stared at him so fixedly that he +became horrified. + +He bent to his friend's breast, but could detect no heart-beats. He +snatched up a big silver photograph frame from a table near and held it +close to the doctor's lips, but upon the glass he could discover no +trace of breath. + +Was he dead? Surely not. + +Yet the suggestion held him aghast. The hands were still limp and warm, +the cheeks warm, the white brow slightly damp. And yet there was no +sign of respiration, so inert and motionless was he. + +He was in well-cut evening clothes, with a fine diamond sparkling in his +well-starched shirt-front. Jerome Jerrold had always been well-dressed, +and even though he had risen to that high position in the medical +profession, he had always dressed even foppishly, so his traducers had +alleged. + +Jack Sainsbury unloosed the black satin cravat, tore off his collar, and +opened his friend's shirt at the throat. But it was all of no avail. +There was no movement--no sign of life. + +A few moments later Thomasson came back in breathless haste. + +"I've spoken to Sir Houston, sir," he said. "He's on his way round in a +taxi." + +Then both men gazed on the prostrate form which Sainsbury supported, and +as they did so there slowly came a faint flush into the doctor's face. +He drew a long breath, gasped for a second, and his eyes relaxed as he +turned his gaze upon his friend. His right arm moved, and his hand +gripped Sainsbury's arm convulsively. + +For a few moments he looked straight into his friend's face inquiringly, +gazing intently, first as though he realised nothing, and then in slow +recognition. + +"Why, it's Jack!" he gasped, recognising his friend. "You--I--I felt a +sudden pain--so strange, and in an instant I--ah! I--I wonder--save +me--I--I--ah! how far off you are! No--no! don't leave me--don't. I-- +I've been shot--shot!--I know I have--ah! what pain--what agony! I--" + +And, drawing a long breath, he next second fell back into Sainsbury's +arms like a stone. + +Ten minutes later a spruce, young-looking, clean-shaven man entered +briskly with Thomasson, who introduced him as Sir Houston Bird. + +In a moment he was full of concern regarding his friend Jerrold, and, +kneeling beside the couch whereon Sainsbury and Thomasson had placed +him, quickly made an examination. + +"Gone! I'm afraid," he said at last, in a low voice full of emotion, as +he critically examined the eyes. + +Jack Sainsbury then repeated his friend's strange words, whereupon the +great pathologist--the expert whose evidence was sought by the Home +Office in all mysteries of crime--exclaimed-- + +"The whole affair is certainly a mystery. Poor Jerrold is dead, without +a doubt. But how did he die?" + +Thomasson explained in detail Mr Trustram's departure, and how, a +quarter of an hour later, Sainsbury had arrived. + +"The doctor had never before, to my knowledge, locked this door," he +went on. "I heard him cheerily wishing Mr Trustram good-night as he +came down the stairs, and I heard him say that he was not to fail to +call to-morrow night at nine, as they would then carry the inquiry +further." + +"What inquiry?" asked Sir Houston quickly. + +"Ah! sir--that, of course, I don't know," was the servant's response. +"My master seemed in the highest of spirits. I just caught sight of him +at the head of the stairs, smoking his pipe as usual after his day's +work." + +The great pathologist knit his brows and cast down his head +thoughtfully. He was a man of great influence, the head of his +profession--for, being the expert of the Home Office, his work, clever, +ingenious, and yet cool and incisive, was to lay the accusing finger +upon the criminal. + +Hardly a session passed at the Old Bailey but Sir Houston Bird appeared +in the witness box, spruce in his morning-coat, and presenting somewhat +the appearance of a bank-clerk; yet, in his cold unemotional words, he +explained to the jury the truth as written plainly by scientific +investigation. Many murderers had been hanged upon his words, always +given with that strange, deliberate hesitation, and yet words--that +could never, for a moment, be shaken by counsel for the defence. + +Indeed, long ago defending counsel had given up cross-examination on any +evidence presented by Sir Houston Bird, who had at his service the most +expert chemists and analysts which our time could produce. + +"This is a mystery," exclaimed the great expert, gazing upon the body of +his friend with his big grey eyes. "Do you tell me that he was actually +locked in here?" + +"Yes, Sir Houston," replied Thomasson. "Curious--most curious," +exclaimed the great pathologist, as though speaking to himself. Then, +addressing Sainsbury, after the latter had been speaking, he said: "The +poor fellow declared that he'd been shot. Is that so?" + +"Yes. He said that he felt a sudden and very sharp pain, and the words +he used were, `I've been shot! I know I have!'" + +"And yet there appears no trace of any wound, or injury," Sir Houston +remarked, much puzzled. + +"Both windows and door were secured from the inside, therefore no +assassin could possibly escape, sir," declared Thomasson. "I suppose +there's no one concealed here in the room?" he added, glancing +apprehensively around. + +In a few moments the three men had examined every nook and corner of the +apartment--the two long cupboards, beneath the table, behind the heavy +plush curtains and the chenille portiere. But nobody was in +concealment. + +The whole affair was a profound mystery. + +Sir Houston, dark-eyed and thoughtful, gazed down upon the body of his +friend. + +Sainsbury and Thomasson had already removed Jerrold's coat, and were +searching for any bullet-wound. But there was none. Again Sir Houston +inquired what the dying man had actually said, and again Sainsbury +repeated the disjointed words which the prostrate man had gasped with +his dying breath. + +To the pathologist it was quite clear first that Jerome Jerrold believed +he had been shot; secondly that no second person could have entered the +room, and thirdly that the theory of assassination might be at once +dismissed. + +"I think that poor Jerrold has died a natural death--sudden and painful, +for if he had been shot some wound would most certainly show," Sir +Houston remarked. + +"There will have to be an inquest, won't there?" asked Sainsbury. + +"Of course. And, Thomasson, you had better ring up the police at once +and inform them of the facts," urged Sir Houston, who, turning again to +Sainsbury, added: "At the post-mortem we shall, of course, quickly +establish the cause of death." + +Again he bent, and with his forefinger drew down the dead man's nether +lip. + +"Curious," he remarked, as though speaking to himself, as he gazed into +the white, distorted face. "By the symptoms I would certainly have +suspected poisoning. Surely he can't have committed suicide!" + +And he glanced eagerly around the room, seeking to discover any bottle, +glass, or cup that could have held a fatal draught. + +"I don't see anything which might lead us to such a conclusion, Sir +Houston," answered Sainsbury. + +"But he may have swallowed it in tablet form," the other suggested. + +"Ah! yes. I never thought of that!" + +"His dying words were hardly the gasping remarks of a suicide." + +"Unless he wished to conceal the fact that he had taken his own life?" +remarked Sainsbury. + +"If he committed suicide, then he will probably have left some message +behind him. They generally do," Sir Houston said; whereupon both men +crossed to the writing-table, which, neat and tidy, betrayed the +well-ordered life its owner had led. + +An electric lamp with a shade of pale green silk was burning, and showed +that the big padded writing-chair had recently been occupied. Though +nothing lay upon the blotting pad, there were, in the rack, three +letters the man now dead had written and stamped for post. Sainsbury +took them and glanced at the addresses. + +"Had we not better examine them?" he suggested; and, Sir Houston +consenting, he tore them open one after the other and quickly read their +contents. All three, however, were professional letters to patients. + +Next they turned their attention to the waste-paper basket. In it were +a number of letters which Jerrold had torn up and cast away. Thomasson +having gone to the telephone to inform the police of the tragic affair, +the pair busied themselves in piecing together the various missives and +reading them. + +All were without interest--letters such as a busy doctor would receive +every day. Suddenly, however, Sainsbury spread out before him some +crumpled pieces of cartridge-paper which proved to be the fragments of a +large strong envelope which had been torn up hurriedly and discarded. + +There were words on the envelope in Jerrold's neat handwriting, and in +ink which was still blue in its freshness. As Sainsbury put them +together he read, to his astonishment: + +"Private. _For my friend Mr John Sainsbury, of Heath Street, +Hampstead. Not to be opened until one year after my death_." + +Sir Houston, attracted by the cry of surprise which escaped Sainsbury's +lips, looked over his shoulder and read the words. + +"Ah!" he sighed. "Suicide! I thought he would leave something!" + +CHAPTER FIVE. + +CERTAIN CURIOUS FACTS. + +Both men searched eagerly through the drawers of the writing-table to +see if the dead man had left another envelope addressed to his friend. +Two of the drawers were locked, but these they opened with the key which +they found upon poor Jerrold's watch-chain which he was wearing. + +Some private papers, accounts and ledgers, were in the drawers, but the +envelope of which they were in search they failed to discover. + +It seemed evident that Jerome Jerrold had written the envelope in which +he had enclosed a letter, but, on reflection, he had torn it up. Though +the crumpled fragments of the envelope were there, yet the letter-- +whatever it might have been--was missing. And their careful examination +of the waste-paper basket revealed nothing, whereupon Sir Houston Bird +remarked-- + +"He may, of course, have changed his mind, and burned it, after all!" + +"Perhaps he did," Jack agreed. "But I wonder what could have been the +message he wished to give me a year after his death? Why not now?" + +"People who take their own lives sometimes have curious hallucinations. +I have known many. Suicide is a fascinating, if very grim study." + +"Then you really think this is a case of suicide?" + +"I can, I fear, give no opinion until after the post-mortem, Mr +Sainsbury," was Sir Houston's guarded reply, his face grave and +thoughtful. + +"But it is all so strange, so remarkable," exclaimed the younger man. +"Why did he tell me that he'd been shot, if he hadn't?" + +"Because to you, his most intimate friend, he perhaps, as you suggested, +wished to conceal the fact that he had been guilty of the cowardly +action of taking his own life," was the reply. + +"It is a mystery--a profound mystery," declared Jack Sainsbury. "Jerome +dined with Mr Trustram, and the latter came back here with him. +Meanwhile, Mr Lewin Rodwell was very anxious concerning him. Why? Was +Rodwell a friend of Jerome's? Do you happen to know that?" + +"I happen to know to the contrary," declared the great pathologist. +"Only a week ago we met at Charing Cross Hospital, and some chance +remark brought up Rodwell's name, when Jerrold burst forth angrily, and +declared most emphatically that the man who posed as such a patriotic +Englishman would, one day, be unmasked and exposed in his true colours. +In confidence, he made an allegation that Lewin Rodwell's real name was +Ludwig Heitzman, and that he was born in Hanover. He had become a +naturalised Englishman ten years ago in Glasgow, and had, by deed-poll, +changed his name to Lewin Rodwell." + +Jack Sainsbury stared the speaker full in the face. + +Lewin Rodwell, the great patriot who, since the outbreak of war, had +been in the forefront of every charitable movement, who had been +belauded by the Press, and to whom the Prime Minister had referred in +the most eulogistic terms in the House of Commons, was a German! + +"That's utterly impossible," exclaimed Jack. "He is one of the +directors of the Ochrida Copper Corporation, in whose office I am. I +know Mr Rodwell well. There's no trace whatever of German birth about +him." + +"Jerrold assured me that his real name was Heitzman, that he had been +born of poor parents, and had been educated by an English shipping-agent +in Hamburg, who had adopted him and sent him to England. On the +Englishman's death he inherited about two thousand pounds, which he made +the nucleus of his present fortune." + +"That's all news to me," said Jack reflectively; "and yet--" + +"What? Do you know something regarding Rodwell then?" inquired Sir +Houston quickly. + +"No," he replied. "Nothing very extraordinary. What you have just told +me surprises me greatly." + +"Just as it surprised me. Yet, surely, his case is only one of many +similar. Thousands of Germans have come here, and become naturalised +Englishmen." + +"A German who becomes a naturalised Englishman is a traitor to his own +country, while he poses as our friend. I contend that we have no use +for traitors of any sort in England to-day," declared Jack vehemently; +both men being still engaged in searching the dead man's room to +discover the message which it appeared had been his intention to leave +after his death. They had carefully examined the grate, but found no +trace of any burnt paper. Yet, from the fact that a piece of red +sealing-wax and a burnt taper lay upon the writing-table, it appeared +that something had been recently sealed, though the torn envelope bore +no seal. + +If an envelope had been sealed, then where was it? + +"We shall, no doubt, be able to establish the truth of Jerrold's +allegation by reference to the register of naturalised Germans kept at +the Home Office," Sir Houston said at last. + +Jack was silent for a few moments, and then answered: + +"That, I fear, may be a little difficult. Jerrold has often told me how +it had been discovered that it was a favourite dodge of Germans, after +becoming naturalised and changing their names by deed-poll, to adopt a +second and rather similar name, in order to avoid any inquiry along the +channel which you have just suggested. As an example, if Ludwig +Heitzman became naturalised, then it is more than probable that when he +changed his name by deed-poll he did not adopt the name of Lewin +Rodwell, but something rather near it." + +"Very likely," was the great doctor's remark. + +Suddenly Jack Sainsbury paused and, facing his companion, said: + +"Look here, Sir Houston. In this tragic affair I believe there's +something more than suicide. That's my firm opinion. Reflect for one +moment, and follow my suspicions. Poor Jerome, in addition to his +profession, has for some years been unofficially assisting the +Intelligence Department of the War Office. He was one of the keenest +and cleverest investigators in England. He scented acts of espionage as +a terrier does a rat, and by his efforts half a dozen, or so, dangerous +spies have been arrested and punished. In a modest way I have been his +assistant, and have helped to watch and follow suspected persons. +Together, we have traced cases of petrol-running to the coast, +investigated night-signalling in the southern counties, and other +things, therefore I happen to know that he was keen on the work. +Curious that he never told me of his grave suspicions regarding Mr +Rodwell." + +"Perhaps he had a reason for concealing them from you," was the other's +reply. + +"But he was always so frank and open with me, because I believe that he +trusted in my discretion to say nothing." + +"Probably he had not verified his facts, and intended to do so before +revealing the truth to you." + +"Yes, he was most careful always to obtain corroboration of everything, +before accepting it," was Jack's reply. "But certainly what you have +just told me arouses a grave suspicion." + +"Of what?" + +"Well--that our poor friend, having gained knowledge of Lewin Rodwell's +birth and antecedents, may, in all probability, have probed further into +his past and--" + +"Into his present, I think more likely," exclaimed the great doctor. +"Ah! I quite see the line of your argument," he added quickly. "You +suggest that Rodwell may have discovered that Jerrold knew the truth, +and that, in consequence, death came suddenly and unexpectedly--eh?" + +Jack Sainsbury nodded in the affirmative. "But surely Trustram, who was +one of Jerrold's most intimate friends, could not have had any hand in +foul play! He was the last man who saw him alive. No," he went on. +"My own experience shows me that poor Jerrold has died of poisoning, and +as nobody has been here, or could have escaped from the room, it must +have been administered by his own hand." + +"But do you not discern the motive?" cried Sainsbury. "Rodwell has +risen to a position of great affluence and notoriety. He is a bosom +friend of Cabinet Ministers, and to him many secrets of State are +confided. He, and his friend Sir Boyle Huntley, play golf with +Ministers, and the name of Lewin Rodwell is everywhere to-day one to +conjure with. He has, since the war, risen to be one of the most +patriotic Englishmen--a man whose unselfish efforts are praised and +admired from one end of Great Britain to another. Surely he would have +become desperate if he had the least suspicion that Jerome Jerrold had +discovered the truth, and intended to unmask him--as he had openly +declared to you." + +"Yes, yes, I see," Sir Houston replied dubiously. "If there were any +traces of foul play I should at once be of the same opinion. But you +see they do not exist." + +"Whether there are traces, or whether there are none, nothing will shake +my firm opinion, and that is that poor Jerome has been assassinated, and +the motive of the crime is what I have already suggested." + +"Very well; we shall clear it up at the post-mortem," was the doctor's +reply, while at that moment Thomasson re-entered, followed by a +police-officer in plain clothes and two constables in uniform. + +On their entry, Sainsbury introduced Sir Houston Bird, and told them his +own name and that of his dead friend. + +Then the officer of the local branch of the Criminal Investigation +Department sat down at the dead man's writing-table and began to write +in his note-book the story of the strange affair, as dictated by Jack. + +Sir Houston also made a statement, this being followed by the man +Thomasson, who detailed his master's movements prior to his death--as +far as he knew them. + +His master, he declared, had seemed in excellent spirits all day. He +had seen patients in the morning, had lunched frugally at home, and had +gone down to Guy's in the car to see the wounded, as was his daily +round. At six he had returned, dressed, and gone forth in a taxi to +meet his friend, Mr Trustram of the Admiralty. They having dined +together returned, and afterwards Mr Trustram had left and the doctor, +smoking his pipe, had retired to his room to write. Nothing further was +heard, Thomasson said, till the arrival of Mr Sainsbury, when the door +of the room was found locked. + +"You heard no one enter the house--no sounds whatever?" asked the +detective inspector, Rees by name, a tall, clean-shaven, +fresh-complexioned man, with rather curly hair. + +"I didn't hear a sound," was the servant's reply. "The others were all +out, and, as a matter of fact, I was in the waiting-room, just inside +the door, looking at the newspapers on the table. So I should have +heard anyone go up or down the stairs." + +Inspector Rees submitted Thomasson to a very searching +cross-examination, but it was quite evident to all in the room that he +knew nothing more than what he had already told. He and his wife had +been in Dr Jerrold's service for eight years. His wife, until her +death, a year ago, had acted as cook-housekeeper. + +"Did you ever know of Mr Lewin Rodwell visiting the doctor?" asked Sir +Houston. + +"Never, as far as I know, sir. He, of course, might have come to +consult him professionally when I've been out, and the maid has +sometimes opened the door and admitted patients." + +"Have you ever heard Mr Rodwell's name?" + +"Only on the telephone to-night--and of course very often in the +papers," replied the man. + +"Your master was very intimate with Mr Trustram?" inquired the +detective. + +"Oh yes. They first met about three months ago, and after that Mr +Trustram came here several times weekly. The doctor went to stay at his +country cottage near Dorking for the week-end, about a fortnight ago." + +"Did you ever discover the reason of those conferences?" Jack Sainsbury +asked. "I mean, did you ever overhear any of their conversations?" + +"Sometimes, sir. But not very often," was Thomasson's discreet reply. +"They frequently discussed the war, and the spy-peril, in which--as you +know--the doctor was actively interesting himself." + +Upon Jack Sainsbury's countenance a faint smile appeared. He now +discerned the reason of the visits of that Admiralty official to the man +who had been so suddenly and mysteriously stricken down. + +He exchanged glances with Sir Houston, who, a moment before, had been +searching a cigar cabinet which had hitherto escaped their notice. + +At Rees's suggestion, Jack Sainsbury went to the telephone and rang up +Charles Trustram, to whom he briefly related the story of the tragic +discovery. + +Within twenty minutes Trustram arrived, and, to the detective, told the +story of the events of the evening: how they had met by appointment at +Prince's Restaurant at half-past seven, had dined together, and then he +had accompanied the doctor back to Wimpole Street about half-past nine, +where they had sat smoking and chatting. + +"Jerrold seemed in quite good spirits over the result of an inquiry he +had been making regarding a secret store of petrol established by the +enemy's emissaries somewhere on the Sussex coast," Mr Trustram +explained. "He had, he told me, disclosed it to the Intelligence +Department, and they were taking secret measures to watch a certain barn +wherein the petrol was concealed, and to arrest those implicated in the +affair. He also expressed some anxiety regarding Mr Sainsbury, saying +that he wished he could see him to-night." Then, turning to Jack, he +added: "At his request I rang up your flat at Hampstead, but you were +not in." + +"Why did he wish to see me?" + +"Ah! that I don't know. He told me nothing," was the Admiralty +official's reply. "While I was sitting here with him I was rung up +three times--twice from my office, and once by a well-known man I had +met for the first time that afternoon--Mr Lewin Rodwell." + +At mention of Rodwell all present became instantly interested. + +"How did Mr Rodwell know that you were here?" inquired the detective +quickly. "That's a mystery. I did not tell him." + +"He might have rung up your house, and your servant may possibly have +told him that you were dining with Jerrold," Sir Houston suggested. + +"That may be so. I will ask my man." + +"What did Mr Rodwell want?" Rees asked. + +"He told me that he had that evening been in consultation with his +friend Sir Boyle Huntley, and that, between them they had resolved to +commence a propaganda for the internment of all alien enemies-- +naturalised as well as unnaturalised--and he asked whether I would meet +them at the club to-morrow afternoon to discuss the scheme. To this I +readily consented. When I returned to this room I found the doctor in +the act of sealing an envelope. After he had finished he gave the +envelope to me, saying `This will be safer in your care than in mine, my +dear Trustram. Will you please keep it in your safe?' I consented, of +course, and as I took it I saw that it was a private letter addressed to +Mr Sainsbury, with instructions that it was not to be opened till a +year after his death." + +"Then you have the letter!" cried Jack excitedly. + +"Yes, I have it at home," replied Mr Trustram; who, proceeding, said: +"At first I was greatly surprised at being given such a letter, and +chaffingly remarked that I hoped he wouldn't die just yet; whereat he +laughed, refilled his pipe and declared that life was, after all, very +uncertain. `I want my friend Sainsbury to know something--but not +before a year after I'm gone. You understand, Trustram. I give you +this, and you, on your part, will give me your word of honour that, +whatever occurs, you will safely guard it, and not allow it to be opened +till a year has elapsed after my death.' He seemed to have suddenly +grown serious, and I confess I was not a little surprised at his curious +change of manner." + +"Did it strike you at all that he might be contemplating suicide?" + +"No, not in the least. Such an idea never entered my head. I regarded +his action just as that of a man who makes his will--that's all. I took +the envelope and, about five minutes later, left him, as I had been +called down to the Admiralty upon an urgent matter." + +"A quarter of an hour afterwards Mr Sainsbury called and we could not +get into the room," Thomasson remarked. "That is all we know." + +CHAPTER SIX. + +REVEALS THE VICTIM. + +Three days had passed. + +The coroner's inquiry had been duly held into the death of Dr Jerome +Jerrold, and medical evidence, including that of the deceased's friend, +Sir Houston Bird, had been called. This evidence showed conclusively +that Sir Houston had been right in his conjecture, from the convulsed +appearance of the body and other signs, that poor Jerrold had died of +poisoning by strychnine. Therefore the proceedings were brief, and a +verdict was returned of "Suicide while temporarily insane." + +No mention was made of the sealed letter left with Mr Trustram, for in +a case of that distressing nature the coroner is always ready to make +the inquiry as short as possible. + +Jack Sainsbury, who had been granted leave by Mr Charlesworth, the +managing-director, to attend the inquest upon his friend, returned to +the City in a very perturbed state of mind. + +He sat at his desk on that grey December afternoon, unable to attend to +the correspondence before him, unable to fix his mind upon business, +unable to understand the subtle ramifications of the cleverly conceived +and dastardly plot, the key of which he had discovered by those few +words he had overheard between the Chairman of the Board and his close +friend, the great Lewin Rodwell. + +He was wondering whether his dead friend's allegation that Rodwell was +none other than Ludwig Heitzman was really the truth. Sir Houston Bird +had promised to institute inquiry at the Alien department of the Home +Office, yet, only that day he had heard that the official of whom +inquiry must be made actually bore a German name. The taint of the +Teuton seemed, alas! over everything, notwithstanding the public +resentment apparent up and down the whole country, and the formation of +leagues and unions to combat the activity of the enemy in our midst. + +Jack Sainsbury disagreed with the verdict of suicide. Jerome Jerrold +was surely not the man to take his own life by swallowing strychnine. +Yet why had he left behind that puzzling and mysterious message which +Charles Trustram, having given his word of honour to his friend, refused +to be opened for another year? + +The will had been found deposited with his solicitor--a will which left +the sum of eighteen-odd thousand pounds to "my friend and assistant in +many confidential matters, Mr John Sainsbury, of Heath Street, +Hampstead." + +As far as it went that was gratifying to Jack. It rendered him +independent of the Ochrida Copper Corporation, and the strenuous +"driving-power," as it is termed in the City, of Charlesworth, the +sycophant of Sir Boyle Huntley and his fellow directors. The whole +office knew that Huntley and Rodwell, brought in during days of peace +"to reorganise the Company upon a sound financial basis," were gradually +getting all the power into their own hands, as they had done in other +companies. The lives of that pair were one huge money-getting +adventure. + +In the office strange things were whispered. But Jack alone knew the +truth. + +The most irritating fact to him was that Jerome Jerrold, just as he had +discovered Rodwell's birth and masquerading, had died. + +Why? + +Why had Lewin Rodwell rung up his new friend, Trustram, just before poor +Jerome's death? Why had Jerome asked to see his friend Sainsbury so +particularly on that night? Why had he locked his door and taken his +life at the very moment when he should have lived to face and denounce +the man who, while an alien enemy, was posing as a loyal subject of +Great Britain? + +Of these and other things--things which he had discussed on the previous +night with Elise--he was thinking deeply, when a lad entered saying: + +"Mr Charlesworth wants to see you, sir." He rose from his chair and +ascended in the lift to the next floor. On entering the manager's room +he found Mr Charlesworth, the catspaw of Sir Boyle, seated in his +padded chair, smoking a good cigar. + +"Oh--er--Sainsbury. I'm rather sorry to call you in, but the directors +have decided that as you are of military age they are compelled, from +patriotic motives, to suggest to you that you should join the army, as +so many of the staff here have done. Don't you think it is your duty?" + +Jack Sainsbury looked the manager straight in the face. + +"Yes," he said, with a curious smile. "I quite agree. It certainly is +my duty to resign and take my part in the defence of the country. But," +he added, "I think it is somewhat curious that the directors have taken +this step--to ask me to resign." Charlesworth, an estimable man, and +beloved by the whole of the staff of the company at home and abroad, +hesitated a moment, and then replied: + +"Unfortunately I am only here to carry out the orders of the directors, +Sainsbury. You have been a most reliable and trusted servant of the +company, and I shall be only too pleased to write you a good +testimonial. You will have half-pay during the time you are absent, of +course, as the others have." + +"Well, if I leave the Ochrida Copper Corporation, as the directors have +practically dismissed me, I require no half-pay--nothing whatever," he +answered, with a grim smile. "I part from you and from the company, Mr +Charlesworth, with the very kindest and most cordial recollections; but +I wish you, please, to give my compliments to the directors and say +that, as they wish me to leave and act in the interests of my country, I +shall do so, refusing to accept the half of my salary which they, in +their patriotism, have so generously offered me." + +Charlesworth was a little puzzled by this speech. It was unexpected. +The steady, hardworking clerk, who had been so reliable, and whom he had +greatly esteemed, might easily have met his suggestion with resentment. +Indeed, he had expected him to do so. But, on the contrary, Sainsbury +seemed even eager to retire from the service of the company. + +Charlesworth was, of course, ignorant of the conditions of Dr Jerrold's +will, or of those words Jack Sainsbury had overheard as he had entered +the boardroom. Vernon Charlesworth had been a servant of the Ochrida +Copper Corporation ever since its formation eighteen years ago--long +before the "new blood" represented by the Huntley-Rodwell combination +had been "brought into" it. From the first inception of the company the +public, who had put their modest savings into it, had lost their money. +Yet recently, by the bombastic and optimistic speeches of Sir Boyle +Huntley at the Cannon Street Hotel, and the self-complacent smiles of +Lewin Rodwell at the meetings, confidence had been inspired, and it was +still a going concern--one which, if the truth be told, Huntley and +Rodwell were working to get into their own hands. + +"Of course I am really very sorry to part with you, Sainsbury," the +manager said, leaning back in his chair and looking at him. "You've +been a most trustworthy servant, yet I, of course, have to abide by the +decision of the board." + +Jack Sainsbury smiled. + +"No, please don't apologise, Mr Charlesworth," he said, with a faint +smile. "I daresay I shall soon find some other employment more +congenial to me." + +"I hope so," replied the manager, peering at the young man through his +horn-rimmed glasses--a style affected in official circles. "Nowadays, +with so many men at the front, it is not really a difficult matter to +find a post in the City. It seems to me that the slacker has the best +of it." + +"I'm not a slacker, though you may think I am, Mr Charlesworth," cried +Jack, reddening. "A month after war was declared I went to the +recruiting office fully prepared to enlist. But, unfortunately, they +rejected me as medically unfit." + +"Did they?" exclaimed the other in surprise. "You never told us that!" + +"Was it necessary? I merely tried to do my duty. But--" and he paused, +and then, in a meaning voice, he added: "If I can't do my duty out in +the trenches, I can at least do it here, at home." + +"If it is true that you've been already rejected as unfit," exclaimed +Charlesworth, "I daresay I might induce the directors to reconsider +their decision." + +"No, sir," was Sainsbury's proud reply. "I will not trouble you to do +that. It is quite apparent that, for some unknown reason, they wish to +dismiss me. Therefore I consider myself dismissed--and, to tell you the +truth, I don't regret it. But, before I go, I would like to thank you +and the staff for all the kindness and consideration shown to me during +my illness a year ago." + +"Then you refuse to stay?" asked Charlesworth, rather puzzled, for he +held Sainsbury in high esteem. + +"Yes. Before dismissing me I consider that the directors should have +inquired whether I had tried to enlist," he answered resentfully. + +"Then I suppose there is no more to say. Shall you remain till the end +of the week?" + +"No, sir. I intend to go now. It would not, I think, be a very happy +seven days for me if I remained, would it?" + +Charlesworth sighed. He was sorry to lose the services of such a +bright, shrewd and clever young man. + +"Very well," he replied regretfully. "If that is really so, Sainsbury, +I must wish you good-bye," and with frankness he stretched forth his +hand, which the young man took, and then turned on his heel and left the +manager's room. + +While Jack Sainsbury was on his way through the bustle of Gracechurch +Street, Lewin Rodwell, who had been upstairs at a meeting of the board, +descended and entered Charlesworth's room, closing the door after him. + +"Well," he asked carelessly, after chatting upon several important +business matters, "have you spoken yet to young Sainsbury?" + +"Yes. And he's gone." + +Lewin Rodwell drew a sigh of relief. + +"He ought to enlist--a smart, athletic fellow like that! Such men are +just what England wants to-day, Charlesworth. I hope you gave him a +good hint--eh?" + +"I did. But it seems that he has already endeavoured to enlist, but was +rejected--a defective arm." + +Lewin Rodwell was silent--but only for a few seconds. + +"Well, never mind; he's gone. We must reduce the staff--it is quite +imperative in these days. What about those six others? Staff reduction +will mean increased profits, you know." + +"They all have notice. I'm sorry about Carew. He has an invalid wife +and seven children. His salary is only two pounds fifteen." + +"I'm afraid we can't help that, Charlesworth," replied the man who posed +in the West End as the great self-denying patriot who hobnobbed with +Cabinet Ministers. "We must reduce the staff, if we're going to pay a +dividend. He'll get work--munition-making or something. Sentiment is +out of place in these war-days." + +And yet, only two days before, the speaker had made a brilliant speech +at a Mansion House meeting in which he had beaten the patriotic drum +loudly, and appealed to all employers of labour to increase wages +because of the serious rise in food-prices. Charlesworth knew this, but +made no remark. It was not to his interest to thwart the great Lewin +Rodwell, or his place-seeking sycophant Sir Boyle Huntley, who had been +put by his friend into the position he now held. + +Truly the City is a strange, complex world of unpatriotic, hard-hearted +money-seeking--a world where the Anglo-German or the swindling financier +waxes rich quickly, and where the God-fearing Englishman goes to a +Rowton House ousted by the "peaceful penetration" of our "dear kind +friends" the Germans. + +Those who have known the City for the past ten years or so know full +well--ay, they know, alas! too well--the way in which Germany has +prepared us for the financial aspect of the war. In the light of +current events much has been made plain that was hitherto shrouded in +mystery. We have seen plainly the subtle methods of the enemy. + +Lewin Rodwell and his catspaw, Sir Boyle, were only typical of dozens of +others in that little area from Temple Bar to Aldgate, the men who were +working for Germany both prior to the war and after. + +Charlesworth, to do him full credit, was an honest Englishman. Yet such +a man was bound to be employed by our enemies as a safeguard against +inquiry, and in order to avert suspicion. City men, like Charlesworth, +might be patriotic to the backbone, yet when it became a matter of +choosing between bread-and-cheese and starvation, as in his own case, +the matter of living at Wimbledon on two thousand a year appealed to +him, in preference to cold mutton and lodgings in Bloomsbury. + +Germans, with or without assumed English names, controlled our finances, +our professions, our hotels, nay, our very lives, wherefore it was +hardly surprising that we were unable, in the first few months of war, +to rid ourselves of that disease known as "German measles." + +"I must say I'm sorry about Carew," remarked Charlesworth. "He's been +with us ever since the formation of the Company--and you recollect we +sent him abroad two years ago upon the Elektra deal. He made a splendid +bargain--one that has brought us over twenty thousand pounds." + +"And he was paid a bonus of twenty-pounds, wasn't he?" snapped Rodwell +impatiently. "Surely that was enough?" + +"But really I think we should keep him; he is very valuable." + +"No, Charlesworth. Let him go. Give him the best of references, if you +like. But we must cut down expenses, if you and I are to live at all." + +"We must live at the expense of these poor devils, I suppose," remarked +Charlesworth, with a slight sigh. + +Truth to tell, he could not express his repugnance. + +"Yes. Surely we are the masters. And capital must live!" was the +other's hard reply. "But where is Sainsbury going?" Rodwell inquired +quickly. "What does he intend doing?" + +"I have no idea," the manager said. "He behaved most mysteriously when +I told him that his services were no longer required." + +"Mysteriously!" exclaimed Rodwell, starting and looking straight across +at his companion. "How?" + +"Well, he expressed undisguised pleasure at leaving us--that's all." + +"What did he say?" asked Lewin Rodwell, in an instant deeply interested. +"Tell me exactly what transpired. I have a reason--a very strong +reason--for ascertaining. Tell me," he urged, with an eagerness which +was quite unusual to him. "Tell me the whole facts." + +CHAPTER SEVEN. + +THE SPIDER'S WEB. + +Three weeks went past--dark, breathless weeks in England's history. + +Jack Sainsbury, keeping the knowledge to himself, spent many deep and +thoughtful hours over his friend's tragic end. Several times he +suggested to Mr Trustram that, in order to clear up the mystery, the +sealed letter should be opened. But Trustram--having given his word of +honour to the dead man--argued, and quite rightly, that there was no +mystery regarding Jerrold's death. He had simply committed suicide. + +Rodwell and Charles Trustram had, by this time, become very friendly. +The latter had been introduced to Sir Boyle Huntley, and the pair had +soon introduced the Admiralty official into a higher circle of society +than he had ever before attained. Indeed, within a few weeks Rodwell, +prime mover of several patriotic funds, had become Trustram's bosom +friend. So intimate did they become that they frequently played golf +together at Sunningdale, Berkhampstead or Walton Heath, on such +occasions when Trustram could snatch an hour or so of well-earned +recreation from the Admiralty; and further, on two occasions Sir Boyle +had given him very valuable financial tips--advice which had put into +his pocket a very considerable sum in hard cash. + +Admiralty officials are not too well paid for their splendid and +untiring work, therefore to Charles Trustram this unexpected addition to +his income was truly welcome. + +The establishment of Lady Betty Kenworthy's Anti-Teutonic Alliance had +caused a wave of indignant hatred of the German across the country, and +hence it was receiving universal support. It aimed at the internment of +all Germans, both naturalised and unnaturalised, at the drastic rooting +out of the German influence in our officialdom, and the ousting of all +persons who, in any sphere of life, might possess German connections by +blood or by marriage. + +While Trustram was, of course, debarred, on account of his official +position, from open sympathy with the great movement, Lewin Rodwell and +Sir Boyle went up and down the country addressing great and enthusiastic +audiences and denouncing in violent terms the subtle influence of "the +enemy in our midst." + +Jack Sainsbury watched all this in grim silence. What he had overheard +in the boardroom of the Ochrida Copper Corporation rang ever in his +ears. + +More than once he had sat in Sir Houston Bird's quiet, sombre +consulting-room, and the pair had discussed the situation. Both agreed +that the clever masquerade being played by Rodwell and his baroneted +puppet was, though entertaining, yet a highly dangerous one. But +without being in possession of hard, indisputable facts, how could they +act? The British public had hailed Lewin Rodwell as a fine specimen of +the truly patriotic Englishman, little dreaming him to be a wolf in +sheep's-clothing. To all and every charitable appeal he subscribed +readily, and to his small, snug house in Bruton Street came many of the +highest in the land. Alas! that we always judge a man by his coat, his +cook, his smiles and his glib speeches. Put a dress-suit upon the +biggest scoundrel who ever stood in the dock at the Old Bailey--from +Smith who murdered his brides in baths downwards--and he would pass as +what the world calls "a gentleman." + +One evening in December--the ninth, to be exact--there had been a big +dinner-party at Sir Boyle's, in Berkeley Square, and afterwards Trustram +had accompanied Rodwell home to Bruton Street in a taxi for a smoke. + +As the pair--the spider and the fly--sat together before the fire in the +small, cosy room at the back of the house which the financier used as +his own den, their conversation turned upon a forthcoming meeting at the +Mansion House, which it was intended to hold in order to further arouse +the Home Office to a true sense of the danger of allowing alien enemies +to be at liberty. + +"I intend to speak quite openly and plainly upon the subject," declared +Rodwell, leaning back in his chair and blowing a cloud of cigar-smoke +from his lips. "The time has now passed for polite speeches. If we are +to win this war we must no longer coddle the enemy with Donnington Hall +methods. The authorities know full well that there are hundreds of +spies among us to-day, and yet they deliberately close their eyes to +them. To me their motto seems, `Don't aggravate the Germans. They are +such dear good people.' The whole comedy would be intensely humorous--a +rollicking farce--if it were not so terribly pathetic. Therefore, at +the meeting, I intend to warn the Government that if some strong measure +is not adopted, and at once, the people themselves will rise and take +matters into their own hands. There'll be rioting soon, if something is +not done--that's my firm conviction," and in his dark eyes was a keen, +earnest look, as he waved his white hand emphatically. Truly, Lewin +Rodwell was a clever actor, and the line he had taken was, surely, +sufficiently bold to remove from him any suspicion of German birth, or +of double-dealing. + +"Yes, I quite agree," declared Trustram enthusiastically. "We know well +enough at the Admiralty that the most confidential information leaks out +to the enemy almost daily, and--" + +"And what can you expect, my dear fellow, when we have so many Germans +and naturalised Germans here in our midst?" cried Rodwell, interrupting. +"Intern the whole lot--that's my idea." + +"With that I entirely agree," exclaimed Trustram, of course believing +fully in his friend's whole-hearted sincerity. "There are far too many +Germans in high places, and while they occupy them we shall never be +able to combat their craftiness--never!" Lewin Rodwell fixed his cold, +keen eyes upon the speaker, and smiled inwardly with satisfaction. + +"My poor friend Dr Jerrold held exactly similar views," Trustram went +on. "Dear old Jerrold! He was ever active in hunting out spies. He +assisted our Secret Service in a variety of ways and, by dint of +diligent and patient inquiry, discovered many strange things." + +"Did he ever really discover any spies?" asked Rodwell in a rather +languid voice. + +"Yes, several. I happen to know one case--that of a man who collected +certain information. The documents were found on him, together with a +pocket-book which contained a number of names and addresses of German +secret agents in England." Rodwell instantly became interested. + +"Did he? What became of the book? That surely ought to be most +valuable to the authorities--eh?" + +"It has been, I believe. But, of course, all inquiries of that nature +are done by the War Office, so I only know the facts from Jerrold +himself. He devoted all the time he could snatch from his profession to +the study of spies, and to actual spy-hunting." + +"And with good results--eh? Poor fellow! He was very alert. His was a +sad end. Suicide. I wonder why?" asked Rodwell. + +"Who knows?" remarked the other, shrugging his shoulders. "We all of us +have our skeletons in our cupboards. Possibly his might have been +rather uglier than others?" + +Rodwell remained thoughtful. Mention of that pocket-book, of which +Jerrold had obtained possession, caused him to ponder. That it was in +the hands of the Intelligence Department was the reverse of comforting. +He had known of the arrest of Otto Hartwig, alias Hart, who had, for +many years before the war, carried on business in Kensington, but this +was the first he had learnt that anything had been found upon the +prisoner. + +He endeavoured to gain some further details from Trustram, but the +latter had but little knowledge. + +"All I know," he said, "is that the case occupied poor Jerrold fully a +month of patient inquiry and watchful vigilance. At last his efforts +were rewarded, for he was enabled to follow the man down to Portsmouth, +and actually watch him making inquiries there--gathering facts which he +intended to transmit to the enemy." + +"How?" asked Rodwell quickly. + +"Ah! that's exactly what we don't know. That there exists a rapid mode +of transmitting secret intelligence across the North Sea is certain," +replied the Admiralty official. "We've had illustrations of it, time +after time. Between ourselves, facts which I thought were only known to +myself--facts regarding the transport of troops across the Channel--have +actually been known in Berlin in a few hours after I have made the +necessary arrangements." + +"Are you quite certain of that?" Rodwell asked, with sudden interest. + +"Absolutely. It has been reported back to us by our friends in +Germany." + +"Then we do have friends in Germany?" remarked Rodwell, with affected +ignorance. + +"Oh, several," was the other's reply. Then, in confidence, he explained +how certain officers had volunteered to enter Germany, posing as +American citizens and travelling from America with American passports. +He mentioned two by name--Beeton and Fordyce. + +The well-dressed man lolling in his chair, smoking as he listened, made +a mental note of those names, and grinned with satisfaction at +Trustram's indiscretions. + +Yet, surely, the Admiralty official could not be blamed, for so +completely had Lewin Rodwell practised the deception that he believed +him to be a sterling Englishman, red-hot against the enemy and all his +knavish devices. + +"I suppose you must be pretty busy at the Admiralty just now--eh? The +official account of the Battle of the Falklands in to-night's papers is +splendid reading. Sturdee gave Admiral von Spee a very nasty shock. I +suppose we shall hear of some other naval successes in the North Sea +soon--eh?" + +Trustram hesitated for a few seconds. "Well, not just yet," was his +brief reply. + +"Why do you say `not yet'?" he asked with a laugh. "Has the Admiralty +some thrilling surprise in store for us? Your people are always so +confoundedly mysterious." + +"We have to be discreet," laughed Trustram. "In these days one never +knows who is friend or foe." + +"Well, you know me well enough, Trustram, to be quite certain of my +discretion. I never tell a soul any official information which may come +to me--and I hear quite a lot from my Cabinet friends--as you may well +imagine." + +"I do trust you, Mr Rodwell," his friend replied. "If I did not, I +should not have told you the many things I have regarding my own +department." + +Lewin Rodwell smoked on, his legs crossed, his right hand behind his +head as he gazed at his friend. + +"Well, you arouse my curiosity when you say that the Admiralty have in +store a surprise for us which we shall know later. Where is it to take +place?" + +Again Charles Trustram hesitated. Then he answered, with some +reluctance: + +"In the North Sea, I believe. A certain scheme has been arranged which +will, we hope, prove effectual." + +"A trap, I suppose?" + +Trustram laughed faintly. + +"I didn't tell you so, remember," he said quickly. + +"Ah, I see!--a trap to draw the German Fleet north--up towards Iceland. +Is my surmise correct?" + +Trustram's smile was a silent affirmative. "This is indeed +interesting," Rodwell exclaimed. "I won't breathe a word to anyone. +When is it to be?" + +"Within a week." + +"You mean in a week. To-day is Wednesday--next Wednesday will be the +sixteenth." + +Again Trustram smiled, as Rodwell, with his shrewd intelligence, divined +the truth. + +"It's all arranged--eh? And orders have been sent out to the Fleet?" +asked the financier. + +Again Trustram laughingly replied, "I didn't say so," but from his +friend's manner Lewin Rodwell knew that he had learnt the great and most +valuable secret of the true intentions of the British Navy. + +It was not the first piece of valuable information which he had wormed +out of his official friends. So clever was he that he now pretended to +be highly eager and enthusiastic over the probable result of the +strategy. + +"Let's hope Von Tirpitz will fall into the trap," he said. "Of course +it will have to be very cunningly baited, if you are to successfully +deceive him. He's already shown himself to be an artful old bird." + +"Well--without giving anything away--I happen to know, from certain +information passing through my hands, that the bait will be sufficiently +tempting." + +"So we may expect to hear of a big naval battle about the sixteenth. I +should say that it will, in all probability, be fought south of Iceland, +somewhere off the Shetlands." + +"Well, that certainly is within the range of probability," was the +other's response. "All I can tell you--and in the very strictest +confidence, remember--is that the scheme is such a cleverly conceived +one that I do not believe it can possibly fail." + +"And if it failed?" + +"Well--if it failed," Trustram said, hesitating and speaking in a lower +tone--"if it failed, then no real harm would occur--only one thing +perhaps: that the East Coast of England might be left practically +unguarded for perhaps twelve hours or so. That's all." + +"Well, that would not matter very much, so long as the enemy obtains no +knowledge of the British Admiral's intentions," remarked Lewin Rodwell, +contemplating the end of his cigar and reflecting for a few seconds. + +Then he blurted out: + +"Gad! that's jolly interesting. I shall wait for next Wednesday with +all eagerness." + +"You won't breathe a word, will you? Remember, it was you who obtained +the information by suggestion," Trustram said, with a good-humoured +laugh. + +"Can't you really rely on me, my dear fellow, when I give you my word of +honour as an Englishman to say nothing?" he asked. "I expect I am often +in the know in secrets of the Cabinet, and I am trusted." + +"Very well," replied his friend. "I accept your promise. Not a word +must leak out. If it did, then all our plans would be upset, and +possibly it would mean the loss of one, or more, of our ships. But you, +of course, realise the full seriousness of it all." + +"I do, my dear Trustram--I do," was the reassuring answer. "No single +whisper of it shall pass my lips. That, I most faithfully promise you." + +CHAPTER EIGHT. + +TOILERS OF THE NORTH SEA. + +Just as it was growing dark on the following evening, a powerful pale +grey car, with cabriolet body, drew out of the yard of the quaint old +Saracen's Head Hotel at Lincoln, and, passing slowly through the town, +set out on the straight, open road which led past Langworth station to +Wragby, and on to Horncastle. + +The occupant of the car, muffled up as though he were an invalid, had +come in from London half an hour before, taken his tea in the +coffee-room, and had resumed his journey, together with his smart, +clean-shaven chauffeur. + +Though he posed as an invalid at the Saracen's Head, yet as soon as the +car had left the town he threw off his thick muffler, opened his coat +and drew a long sigh of relief. + +Truth to tell, Mr Lewin Rodwell, whose photograph appeared so +constantly in the picture-papers, was not over anxious to be seen in +Lincoln, or, indeed, in that neighbourhood at all. With Penney, his +trusted chauffeur--a man who, like himself, was a "friend of Germany"-- +he had set out from Bruton Street that morning, and all day they had sat +side by side on their journey towards the Fens. + +Many times, after chatting with Penney, he had lapsed into long spells +of silence, during which time he had puffed vigorously at his cigar, and +thought deeply. + +Until, after about five miles, they passed Langworth station, they had +been content with their side-lights, but soon they switched on the huge +electric head-lamps, and then they "put a move on," as Rodwell was +anxious to get to his journey's end as quickly as possible. + +"You'll drop me, as usual, at the three roads beyond Mumby. Then go +into Skegness and put up for the night. Meet me at the same spot +to-morrow morning at seven-thirty." + +"Very well, sir," was the young man's obedient reply. + +"Let's see," remarked Rodwell. "When we were up in this lonely, +forsaken part of the country a week ago, where did you put up?" + +"The last time in Louth, sir. The time before in Lincoln, and the time +before that in Grimsby. I haven't been in Skegness for a full month." + +"Then go there, and mind and keep your mouth shut tight!" + +"I always do, sir." + +"Yes, it pays you to do so--eh?" laughed Rodwell. "But I confess, +Penney, that I'm getting heartily sick of this long journey," he sighed, +"compelled, as we are, to constantly go many miles out of our way in +order to vary the route." + +"The road is all right in summer, sir, but it isn't pleasant on a cold +stormy night like this--especially when you've got a two-mile walk at +the end of it." + +"That's just it. I hate that walk. It's so dark and lonely, along by +that open dyke. Yet it has to be done; and, after all, the darker the +night--perhaps the safer it is." Then he lapsed again into silence, +while the car--well-driven by Penney, who was an expert driver--flew +across the broad open fenlands, in the direction of the sea. + +The December night was dark, with rain driving against and blurring the +windscreen, in which was a small oblong hole in the glass, allowing +Penney to see the long, lonely road before him. Passing the station at +Horncastle, they continued through the town and then up over the hill on +the Spilsby road and over the wide gloomy stretch until, about half-past +seven o'clock, after taking a number of intricate turns up unfrequented +fen-roads, they found themselves passing through a small, lonely, +ill-lit village. Beyond this place, called Orby, they entered another +wide stretch of those low-lying marshes which border the North Sea on +the Lincolnshire coast, marshes intersected by a veritable maze of +roads, most of which were without sign-posts, and where, in the +darkness, it was a very easy matter to lose one's way. + +But Penney--who had left the high road on purpose--had been over those +cross-roads on many previous occasions. Indeed, he knew them as well as +any Fenman, and without slackening speed or faltering, he at last +brought the car to a standstill a few miles beyond the village of Mumby, +at a point where three roads met about two miles from the sea. + +It was still raining--not quite so heavily as before, but sufficiently +to cause Rodwell to discard his fur-lined overcoat for a mackintosh. +Then, having placed an electric flash-lamp in his pocket, together with +a large bulky cartridge envelope, a silver flask and a packet of +sandwiches, he took a stout stick from the car and alighting bade the +young man good-night, and set forth into the darkness. + +"I wonder whether I'll be in time?" he muttered to himself in German, +going forward as he bent against the cold driving rain which swept in +from the sea. He usually spoke German to himself when alone. His way, +for the first mile, was beside a long straight "drain," into which, in +the darkness, it would have been very easy to slip had he not now and +then flashed on his lamp to reveal the path. + +Beneath his breath, in German, he cursed the weather, for already the +bottoms of his trousers were saturated as he splashed on through the +mud, while the rain beat full in his face. Presently he came in sight +of a row of cottage-windows at a place called Langham, and then, turning +due north into the marshes, he at last, after a further mile, came to +the beach whereon the stormy waters of the North Sea were lashing +themselves into a white foam discernible in the darkness. + +That six miles of low-lying coast, stretching from the little village of +Chapel St Leonards north to Sutton-on-Sea, was very sparsely +inhabited--a wide expanse of lonely fenland almost without a house. + +Upon that deserted, low-lying coast were two coastguard stations, one +near Huttoft Bank and the other at Anderby Creek, and of course--it +being war-time--constant vigil was kept at sea both night and day. But +as the district was not a vulnerable one in Great Britain's defences, +nothing very serious was ever reported from there to the Admiralty. + +By day a sleepy plain of brown and green marshes, by night a dark, +cavernous wilderness, where the wild sea beat monotonously upon the +shingle, it was a truly gloomy, out-of-the-world spot, far removed from +the bustle of war's alarm. + +Lewin Rodwell, on gaining the beach at the end of a long straight path, +turned without hesitation to the right, and walked to the south of the +little creek of Anderby for some distance, until he suddenly ascended a +low mound close by the sea, half-way between Anderby Creek and Chapel +Point, and there before him stood a low-built fisherman's cottage, +partly constructed of wood, which by day was seen to be well-tarred and +water-tight. + +Within a few yards of the beach it stood, with two boats drawn up near +and a number of nets spread out to dry; the home of honest Tom Small and +his son, typical Lincolnshire fishermen, who, father and son, had fished +the North Sea for generations. + +At the Anchor, in Chapel St Leonards, old Tom Small was a weekly +visitor on Saturday nights, when, in that small, close-smelling +bar-parlour, he would hurl the most bitter anathemas at the "All Highest +of Germany," and laugh his fleet to scorn; while at Anderby Church each +Sunday morning he would appear in his best dark blue trousers, thick +blue jacket and peaked cap, a worthy hardworking British fisherman with +wrinkled, weatherbeaten face and reddish beard. He was of that hardy +type of seafarer so much admired by the town-dweller when on his summer +holiday, a man who, in his youth, had been "cox" of the Sutton lifeboat, +and who had stirring stories to tell of wild nights around the Rosse +Spit and the Sand Haile, the foundering of tramps with all hands, and +the marvellous rescues effected by his splendid crew. + +It was this man, heavily-booted and deep-voiced, by whom Lewin Rodwell +was confronted when he tapped at the cottage door. + +"Come, hurry up! Let me in!" cried Rodwell impatiently, after the door +was slowly unlocked. "I'm soaked! This infernal neighbourhood of yours +is absolutely the limit, Small. Phew!" and he threw down his soaked cap +and entered the stone-flagged living-room, where Small's son rose +respectfully to greet him. + +"Where are my other clothes?" he asked sharply, whereupon the +weatherbeaten fisherman produced from an old chest in the corner a rough +suit of grey tweeds, which Rodwell, carried to the inner room on the +left, and quickly assumed. + +"Pretty nice weather this!" he shouted cheerily to father and son, while +in the act of changing his clothes. "Is all serene? Have you tested +lately?" + +"Yes, sir," replied the elder man. "I spoke at five o'clock an' told +'em you were coming. So Mr Stendel is waiting." + +"Good!" was Rodwell's reply. "Anybody been looking around?" + +"Not a soul to-day, sir. The weather's been bad, an' the only man we've +seen is Mr Bennett, from the coastguard station, on his patrol. He was +'ere last night and had a drop o' whisky with us." + +"Good?" laughed Rodwell. "Keep well in with the coastguard. They're a +fine body, but only a year or so ago the British Admiralty reduced them. +It wasn't their fault." + +"We do keep in with 'em," was old Tom Small's reply, as Rodwell +re-entered the room in dry clothes. "I generally give 'em a bit o' fish +when they wants it, and o' course I'm always on the alert looking out +for periscopes that don't appear," and the shrewd old chap gave vent to +a deep guttural laugh. + +"Well now, Small, let's get to work," Rodwell said brusquely. "I've got +some important matters on hand. Is all working smoothly?" + +"Splendidly, sir," answered the younger man. "Nothing could be better. +Signals are perfect to-night." + +"Then come along," answered the man who was so universally believed to +be a great British patriot; and, turning the handle of the door on the +right-hand side of the living-room, he entered a small, close-smelling +bedroom, furnished cheaply, as the bedroom of a small struggling +fisherman would be. The Smalls were honest, homely folk, the domestic +department being carried on by Tom's younger daughter, Mary, who at the +moment happened to be visiting her married sister in Louth. + +The son, Ted, having lit a petrol table-lamp--one of those which, filled +with spirit, give forth gas from the porous block by which the petrol is +absorbed and an intense light in consequence--Lewin Rodwell went to the +corner of the room where an old curtain of crimson damask hung before a +recess. This he drew aside, when, hanging in the recess, were shown +several coats and pairs of trousers--the wardrobe of old Tom Small; +while below was a tailor's sewing-machine on a treadle stand--a machine +protected by the usual wooden cover. + +The latter he lifted; but beneath, instead of a machine for the innocent +needle-and-cotton industry, there was revealed a long electrical +tapping-key upon an ebonite base, together with several electrical +contrivances which, to the uninitiated, would present a mysterious +problem. + +A small, neatly-constructed Morse printing machine, with its narrow +ribbon of green paper passing through beneath a little glass cover +protecting the "inker" from the dust; a cylindrical brass relay with its +glass cover, and a tangle of rubber-insulated wires had been hidden +beneath that square wooden cover, measuring two and a half feet by one. + +Behind the sewing-machine stand, and cunningly concealed, there ran a +thick cable fully two inches in diameter, which was nothing else but the +shore-end of a submarine cable directly connecting the East Coast of +England with Wangeroog, the most northerly of the East Frisian Islands, +running thence across to Cuxhaven, at the mouth of the Elbe, and on by +the land-line, via Hamburg, to Berlin. + +The history of that cable was unknown and unsuspected by the British +public, who, full of trust of the authorities, never dreamed that there +could possibly be any communication from the English shore actually +direct into Berlin. Five years before the declaration of war the German +Government had approached the General Post Office, offering to lay down +a new cable from Wangeroog to Spurn Head, in order to relieve some of +the constantly increasing traffic over the existing cables from +Lowestoft, Bacton and Mundesley. Long negotiations ensued, with the +result that one day the German cable-ship _Christoph_ passed the Chequer +shoal and, arriving off the Spurn Lighthouse, put in the shore-end, +landed several German engineers to conduct the electrical control-tests +between ship and shore, and then sailed away back to Germany, paying out +the cable as she went. + +In due course, after the arranged forty days' tests from Wangeroog to +the Spurn, the cable was accepted by the General Post Office, and over +it much of the telegraphic traffic between England and Germany had, for +the past five years, been conducted. + +On the declaration of war, however, telegraph engineers from York had +arrived, excavated the cable out of the beach at the Spurn, and +effectively cut the line, as all the lines connecting us with German +stations had been severed. After that, the British postal authorities +contented themselves that no further communication could possibly be +established with the enemy, and the public were satisfied with a defiant +isolation. + +They were ignorant how, ten days after the cables had been cut, old Tom +Small, his son and two other men, in trawling for fish not far from the +shore, had one night suddenly grappled a long black snaky-looking line, +and, after considerable difficulties, had followed it with their +grapnels to a certain spot where, with the aid of their winch, they were +able to haul it on board in the darkness. + +Slimy and covered with weeds and barnacles, that strategic cable had +been submerged and lay there, unsuspected, ready for "the Day," for, +truth to tell, the Spurn Head-Wangeroog cable had possessed a double +shore-end, one of which had been landed upon British soil, while the +other had been flung overboard from the German cable-ship four miles +from land, while old Tom Small and his son had been established on shore +in readiness to perform their part in dredging it up and landing it when +required. + +So completely and carefully had Germany's plans been laid for war that +Small, once an honest British fisherman, had unsuspectingly fallen into +the hands of a certain moneylender in Hull, who had first pressed him, +and had afterwards shown him an easy way out of his financial +difficulties; that way being to secretly accept the gift of a small +trawler, on condition that, any time his services were required by a +strange gentleman who would come down from London and bring him +instructions, he would faithfully carry them out. + +In the middle of the month of August 1914 the mysterious gentleman had +arrived, showed him a marked chart of the sea beyond the five-fathoms +line at the Sand Haile, and had given him certain instructions, which he +had been forced to carry out. + +Not without great difficulty had the second shore-end of the cable been +brought ashore at night just opposite his cottage, and dug into the sand +at low water, the end being afterwards carried into the little bedroom +in the cottage, where, a few days before, several heavy boxes had +arrived--boxes which old Tom afterwards saw contained a quantity of +electric batteries and weird-looking apparatus. + +It was then that Lewin Rodwell arrived for the first time, and, among +other accomplishments, being a trained telegraph electrician, he had set +the instruments up upon the unsuspicious-looking stand of the big old +sewing-machine. + +Small, who daily realised and regretted the crafty machinations of the +enemy in entrapping him by means of the moneylender in Hull, was +inclined to go to the police, confess, and expose the whole affair. + +Rodwell, with his shrewd intuition, knew this, and in consequence +treated father and son with very little consideration. + +Even as he stood in the room that night fingering the secret +instruments, which he had just revealed by lifting the cover, he turned +to the weatherbeaten old man and said, in a hard, sarcastic voice: + +"You see the war is lasting longer than you expected, Small--isn't it? +I suppose you've seen all that silly nonsense in the papers about +Germany being already at the end of her tether? Don't you believe it. +In a year's time we shall have only just started." + +"Yes, sir," replied the old fellow, in a thick voice. "But--well, sir, +I--I tell you frankly, I'm growing a bit nervous. Mr Judd, from the +Chapel Point coastguard, came 'ere twice last week and sat with me +smokin', as if he were a-tryin' to pump me." + +"Nervous, be hanged, Small. Don't be an idiot!" Rodwell replied +quickly. "What can anybody know, unless you yourself blab? And if you +did--by Gad! your own people would shoot you as a traitor at the Tower +of London--you and your boy too! So remember that--and be very careful +to keep a still tongue." + +"But I never thought, when that Mr Josephs, up in London, wrote to me +sending me a receipt for the money I owed, that I was expected to do all +this!" Small protested. + +"No, if you had known you would never have done it!" laughed Rodwell. +"But Germany is not like your gallant rule-of-thumb England. She leaves +nothing to chance, and, knowing the cupidity of men, she takes full +advantage of it--as in your case." + +"But I can't bear the suspense, sir; I feel--I feel, Mr Rodwell--that +I'm suspected--that this house is under suspicion--that--" + +"Utter bosh! It's all imagination, Small," Lewin Rodwell interrupted. +"They've cut the cable at the Spurn, and that's sufficient. Nobody in +England ever dreams that the German Admiralty prepared for this war five +years ago, and therefore spliced a second end into the cable." + +"Well, I tell you, sir, I heartily wish I'd never had anything to do +with this affair," grumbled old Tom. + +"And if you hadn't you'd have been in Grimsby Workhouse instead of +having six hundred and fifty-five pounds to your credit at the bank in +Skegness. You see I know the exact amount. And that amount you have +secured by assisting the enemy. I know mine is a somewhat unpalatable +remark--but that's the truth, a truth which you and your son Ted, as +well as your two brothers must hide--if you don't want to be tried by +court-martial and shot as traitors, the whole lot of you." + +The old fisherman started at those words, and held his breath. + +"We won't say any more, Tom, on that delicate question," Rodwell went +on, speaking in a hard, intense voice. "Just keep a dead silence, all +of you, and you'll have nothing to fear or regret. If you don't, the +punishment will fall upon you; I shall take good care to make myself +secure--depend upon that!" + +"But can't we leave this cottage? Can't we get away?" implored the old +fellow who had innocently fallen into the dastardly web so cleverly spun +by the enemy. + +"No; you can't. You've accepted German money for five years, and +Germany now requires your services," was Rodwell's stern, brutal +rejoinder. "Any attempt on your part to back out of your bargain will +result in betraying you to your own people. That's plain speaking! You +and your son should think it over carefully together. You know the +truth now. When Germany is at war she doesn't fight in kid-gloves--like +your idiotic pigs of English!" + +CHAPTER NINE. + +TO "NUMBER 70 BERLIN." + +Lewin Rodwell, as a powerful and well-informed secret agent, was no +amateur. + +After the old fisherman had left the close atmosphere of that little +room, Rodwell seated himself on a rickety rush-bottomed chair before the +sewing-machine stand, beside the bed, and by the bright light of the +petrol table-lamp, carefully and with expert touch adjusted the tangle +of wires and the polished brass instruments before him. + +The manner in which he manipulated them showed him to be perfectly well +acquainted with the due importance of their adjustment. With infinite +care he examined the end of the cable, unscrewing it from its place, +carefully scraping with his clasp-knife the exposed copper wires +protruding from the sheath of gutta percha and steel wire, and placing +them each beneath the solid brass binding-screws upon the mahogany base. + +"The silly old owl now knows that we won't stand any more nonsense from +him," he muttered to himself, in German, as he did this. "It's an +unsavoury thought that the old fool, in his silly patriotism, might blab +to the police or the coastguard. Phew! If he did, things would become +awkward--devilish awkward." + +Then, settling himself before the instruments, he took from his inner +pocket the long, bulky envelope, out of which he drew a sheet of +closely-written paper which he spread out upon the little table before +him. Afterwards, with methodical exactness, he took out a pencil and a +memorandum-block from his side-pocket, arranging them before him. + +Again he examined the connections running into the big, heavy +tapping-key, and then, grasping the ebonite knob of the latter, he +ticked out dots and dashes in a manner which showed him to be an expert +telegraphist. + +"M.X.Q.Q." were the code-letters he sent. "M.X.Q.Q." he clicked out, +once--twice--thrice. The call, in the German cable war-code, meant: +"Are you ready to receive message?" + +He waited for a reply. But there was none. The cable that ran for +three hundred miles, or so, beneath the black, storm-tossed waters of +the North Sea was silent. + +"Curious!" he muttered to himself. "Stendel is generally on the alert. +Why doesn't he answer?" + +"M.X.Q.Q." he repeated with a quick, impatient touch. "M.X.Q.Q." + +Then he waited, but in vain. + +"Surely the cable, after the great cost to the Empire, has not broken +down just at the very moment when we want it!" he exclaimed, speaking in +German, as was his habit when excited. + +Again he sent the urgent call beneath the waters by the only direct +means of communication between Britain's soil and that of her bitter +enemy. + +But in Tom Small's stuffy little bedroom was a silence that seemed +ominous. Outside could be heard the dull roar of the sea, the salt +spray coming up almost to the door. But there was no answering click +upon the instruments. + +The electric current from the rows of batteries hidden in the cellar was +sufficient, for he had tested it before he had touched the key. + +"Tom," he shouted, summoning the old fisherman whom he had only a few +moments before dismissed. + +"Yes, sir," replied the old fellow gruffly, as he stalked forward again, +in his long, heavy sea-boots. + +"The cable's broken down, I believe! What monkey-tricks have you been +playing--eh?" he cried angrily. + +"None, sir. None, I assure you. Ted tested at five o'clock this +evening, as usual, and got an acknowledgment. The line was quite all +right then." + +"Well, it isn't now," was Rodwell's rough answer, for he detected in the +old man's face a secret gleaming satisfaction that no enemy message +could be transmitted. + +"I believe you're playing us false, Small!" cried Rodwell, his eyes +flashing angrily. "By Gad! if you have dared to do so you'll pay dearly +for it--I warn you both! Now confess!" + +"I assure you, sir, that I haven't. I was in here when Ted tested, as +he does each evening. All was working well then." + +The younger man, a tall, big-limbed, fair-haired toiler of the sea, in a +fisherman's blouse of tanned canvas like his father, overhearing the +conversation, entered the little room. + +"It was all right at five, sir. I made a call, and got the answer." + +"Are you sure it was answered--quite sure?" queried the man from London. + +"Positive, sir." + +"Then why in the name of your dear goddess Britannia, who thinks she +rules the waves, can't I get a reply now?" demanded Rodwell furiously. + +"How can I tell, sir? I got signals--good strong signals." + +"Very well. I'll try again. But remember that you and your father are +bound up to us. And if you've played us false I shall see that you're +both shot as spies. Remember you won't be the first. There's +Shrimpton, up at Gateshead, Paulett at Glasgow, and half a dozen more in +prison paying the penalty of all traitors to their country. The British +public haven't yet heard of them. But they will before long--depend +upon it. The thing was so simple. Germany, before the war, held out +the bait for your good King-and-country English to swallow. That you +English--or rather a section of you--will always swallow the money-bait +we have known ever so long ago." + +"Mr Rodwell, you needn't tell us more than we know," protested the old +fisherman. "You and your people 'ave got the better of us. We know +that, to our cost, so don't rub it in." + +"Ah! as long as you know it, that's all right," laughed Rodwell. "When +the invasion comes, as it undoubtedly will, very soon, then you will be +looked after all right. Don't you or your son worry at all. Just sit +tight, as this house is marked as the house of friends. Germany never +betrays a friend--never!" + +"Then they do intend to come over here?" exclaimed the old fisherman +eagerly, his eyes wide-open in wonderment. + +"Why, of course. All has been arranged long ago," declared the man whom +the British public knew as a great patriot. "The big expeditionary +force, fully fit and equipped, has been waiting in Hamburg, at Cuxhaven +and Bremerhaven, ever since the war began--waiting for the signal to +start when the way is left open across the North Sea." + +"That will never be," declared the younger man decisively. + +"Perhaps not, if you have dared to tamper with the cable," was Rodwell's +hard reply. + +"I haven't, I assure you," the young man declared. "I haven't touched +it." + +"Well, I don't trust either of you," was Rodwell's reply. "You've had +lots of money from us, yet your confounded patriotism towards your +effete old country has, I believe, caused you to try and defeat us. +You've broken down the cable--perhaps cut the insulation under the +water. How do I know?" + +"I protest, Mr Rodwell, that you should insinuate this!" cried old Tom. +"Through all this time we've worked for you, and--" + +"Because you've been jolly well paid for it," interrupted the other. +"What would you have earned by your paltry bit of fish sent into +Skegness for cheap holiday-makers to eat?--why, nothing! You've been +paid handsomely, so you needn't grumble. If you do, then I have means +of at once cutting your supplies off and informing the Intelligence +Department at Whitehall. Where would you both be then, I wonder?" + +"We could give you away also!" growled Ted Small. + +"You might make charges. But who would believe you if you--a +fisherman--declared that Lewin Rodwell was a spy--eh? Try the game if +you like--and see!" + +For a few moments silence fell. + +"Well, sir," exclaimed Ted's father. "Why not call up again? Perhaps +Mr Stendel may be there now." + +Again Rodwell placed his expert hand upon the tapping-key, and once more +tapped out the call in the dot-and-dash of the Morse Code. + +For a full minute all three men waited, holding their breath and +watching the receiver. + +Suddenly there was a sharp click on the recorder. "Click--click, click, +click!" + +The answering signals were coming up from beneath the sea. + +"B.S.Q." was heard on the "sounder," while the pale green tape slowly +unwound, recording the acknowledgment. + +Stendel was there, in the cable-station far away on the long, low-lying +island of Wangeroog--alert at last, and ready to receive any message +from the secret agents of the All Highest of Germany. + +"B.S.Q.--B.S.Q."--came up rapidly from beneath the sea. "I am here. +Who are you?" answered the wire rapidly, in German. + +Lewin Rodwell's heart beat quickly when he heard the belated reply to +his impatient summons. He had fully believed that a breakdown had +occurred. And if so, it certainly could never be repaired. + +But a thrill of pleasure stirred him anew when he saw that his harsh and +premature denunciation of the Smalls had been unwarranted, and the cable +connection--so cunningly contrived five years before, was working as +usual from shore to shore. + +Cable-telegraphy differs, in many respects, from ordinary +land-telegraphy, especially in the instruments used. Those spread out +before Rodwell were, indeed, a strange and complicated collection, with +their tangled and twisted wires, each of which Rodwell traced without +hesitation. + +In a few seconds his white, well-manicured and expert hand was upon the +key again, as the Smalls returned to their living-room, and he swiftly +tapped out the message in German: + +"I am Rodwell. Are you Stendel? Put me through Cuxhaven direct to +Berlin: Number Seventy: very urgent." + +"Yes," came the reply. "I am Stendel. Your signals are good. Wait, +and I will put you through direct to Berlin." + +The "sounder" clicked loudly, and the clockwork of the tape released, +causing the narrow paper ribbon to unwind. + +"S.S." answered Rodwell, the German war-code letters for "All right. +Received your message and understand it." + +Then he took from his pocket his gold cigarette-case, which bore his +initials in diamonds on the side, and selecting a cigarette, lit it and +smoked while waiting for the necessary connections and relays to be made +which would enable him to transmit his message direct to the +general headquarters of the German Secret Service in the +Koeniger-gratzerstrasse, in Berlin. + +In patience he waited for a full ten minutes in that close little room, +watching the receiving instrument before him. The angry roar of the +wintry sea could be heard without, the great breakers rolling in upon +the beach, while every now and then the salt spindrift would cut sharply +across the little window, which rattled in the gusty wind. + +Click--click--click! The long letter T repeated three times. Then a +pause, and the call "M.X.Q.Q.--J.A.J.70." + +By the prefix, Rodwell knew that he was "through," and actually in +communication with the headquarters of the German espionage throughout +the world; that marvellously alert department from which no secret of +state, or of hostile army or navy was safe; the department formed and +controlled by the great Steinhauer, who had so many times boasted to +him, and perhaps with truth, that at the Koeniger-gratzerstrasse they +knew more of England than even the English themselves knew. + +True, the British public will never be able to realise one hundredth +part of what Germany has done by her spy-system, or of the great +diplomatic and military successes which she has achieved by it. Yet we +know enough to realise that for years no country and no walk of life-- +from the highest to the lowest--has been free from the ubiquitous, +unscrupulous and unsuspected secret agents of whom Lewin Rodwell was a +type. + +In Germany's long and patient preparation for the world-war, nothing in +the way of espionage was too large, or too small for attention. The +activity of her secret agents in Berlin had surely been an object-lesson +to the world. Her spies swarmed in all cities, and in every village; +her agents ranked among the leaders of social and commercial life, and +among the sweepings and outcasts of great communities. The wealthiest +of commercial men did not shrink from acting as her secret agents. She +was not above employing beside them the very dregs of the community. No +such system had ever been seen in the world. Yet the benefits which our +enemies were deriving from it, now that we were at war, were +incalculable. + +By every subtle and underhand means in her power, Germany had prepared +for her supreme effort to conquer us, and, as a result of this it was +that Lewin Rodwell that night sat at the telegraph-key of the Berlin +spy-bureau actually established on British soil. + +He waited until the call had been repeated three times with the secret +code-number of the Koeniger-gratzerstrasse, namely: "Number 70 Berlin." + +Then, putting out his cigarette, he drew his chair forward until his +elbows rested upon the table, and spreading out the closely-written +document before him, tapped out a signal in code. + +The letters were "F.B.S.M." + +To this kind of pass-word, which was frequently altered from time to +time, he received a reply: "G.L.G.S." and then he added his own number, +"0740." + +The signals exchanged were quite strong, and he drew a long breath of +relief and satisfaction. + +Then, settling down to his dastardly work, he began to tap out rapidly +the following in German: + +"On Imperial War Service. Most Urgent. From 0740 to Berlin 70. +Transmitted Personally. + +"Source of information G.27, British Admiralty. Lieutenant Ralph +Beeton, Grenadier Guards, British secret agent, is at present staying at +Kaiserhof Hotel, Berlin, as James B. James, an American citizen, of +Fernville, Kansas, and is transmitting reports. Captain Henry Fordyce, +British Navy, is at Park Hotel, Dusseldorf, as Francis Dexter, iron +merchant of New Orleans, and has sent reports regarding Erhardt's +ordnance factory. Both should be arrested at once. Lieutenant George +Evans, reported at Amsterdam on the 5th, has gone to Emden, and will +probably be found at the Krone Hotel." + +Then he paused. That message had, he knew, sealed the fate of three +brave Englishmen who had dared to enter the camp of our enemies. They +would be arrested within an hour or so, and most certainly shot as +spies. His face broadened into an evil grin of satisfaction as the +truth crossed his mind. + +He waited for an acknowledgment that his report had been received. +Then, having listened to the answering click--clickety--click, he sent a +second message as follows:-- + +"British Naval Dispositions: Urgent to Q.S.R. + +"Source of information H.238. To-night, off the Outer Skerries, +Shetlands, are battleships _King Charles_ (flag), _Mole, Wey, Welland, +Teign, Yare, Queen Boadicea, Emperor of India_, _King Henry VIII_; with +first-class cruisers _Hogue, Stamford, Petworth, Lichfield, Dorchester_; +second-class cruisers _Rockingham, Guildford, Driffield, Verulam, +Donnington, Pirbright, Tremayne_ and _Blackpool_; destroyers _Viking, +Serpent, Chameleon, Adder, Batswing, Sturdy_ and _Havoc_, with eight +submarines, the aircraft-ship _Flyer_, and repair-ship _Vulcan_. +Another strong division left Girdle Ness at 4 p.m. coming south. The +division in Moray Firth remains the same. _Trusty, Dragon, Norfolk_ and +_Shadower_ left Portsmouth this evening going east. British Naval +war-code to be altered at midnight to 106-13." + +The figures he spelt out very carefully, repeating them three times so +that there could be no mistake. Again he paused until, from Berlin, +they were repeated for confirmation. + +Afterwards he proceeded as follows: + +"_Ruritania_ leaves Liverpool for New York at noon to-morrow, carrying +bullion. Also liners _Smyrna, Jacob Elderson, City of Rotterdam_ and +_Great Missenden_ leave same port for Atlantic ports to-morrow. +Submarines may be advised by wireless." + +Once more he paused until he received the signal of acknowledgment, +together with the query whether the name of one of the ships mentioned +was Elderson or Elderton. But Lewin Rodwell, with keen interest in his +fell work of betraying British liners into the hands of the German +pirate submarines, quickly tapped out the correct spelling, repeating +it, so that there should be no further mistake. + +After yet another pause, the man seated in the fisherman's stuffy little +bedroom grasped the telegraph-key and made the signals--"J.O.H.J."-- +which, in the German war-code, meant: "Take careful note and report to +proper quarter instantly." + +"All right," came the answering signal, also in code. "Prepared to +receive J.O.H.J." + +Then, after a few seconds, Rodwell glanced again at the closely-written +sheet spread before him, and began to tap out the following secret +message in German to the very heart of the Imperial war-machine: + +"Official information just gained from a fresh and most reliable +source--confirmed by H.238, M.605, and also B.1928--shows that British +Admiralty have conceived a clever plan for entrapping the German Grand +Fleet. Roughly, the scheme is to make attack with inferior force upon +Heligoland early on Wednesday morning, the 16th, together with +corresponding attack upon German division in the estuary of the Eider +and thus draw out the German ships northward towards the Shetlands, +behind which British Grand Fleet are concealed in readiness. This +concentration of forces northward will, according to the scheme of which +I have learned full details, leave the East coast of England from the +Tyne to the Humber unprotected for a full twelve hours on the 16th, thus +full advantage could be taken for bombardment. Inform Grand Admiral +immediately." + +Having thus betrayed the well-laid plans of the British Admiralty to +entice the German Fleet out of the Kiel canal and the other harbours in +which barnacles were growing on their keels, Lewin Rodwell, the popular +British "patriot," paused once more. + +But not for long, because, in less than a minute, he received again the +signal of acknowledgment that his highly interesting message to the +German Admiralty had been received, and would be delivered without a +moment's delay. + +Then he knew that the well-organised plans of the British Fleet, so +cleverly conceived and so deadly if executed, would be effectively +frustrated. + +He gave the signal that he had ended his message and, with a low laugh +of satisfaction, rose from the rickety old chair and lit another +cigarette. + +Thus had England been foully betrayed by one of the men whom her deluded +public most confidently trusted and so greatly admired. + +CHAPTER TEN. + +THE KHAKI CULT. + +Twenty-four hours later Lewin Rodwell was standing upon the platform of +the big Music Hall, in George Street, Edinburgh, addressing a great +recruiting meeting. + +The meeting, presided over by a well-known Scotch earl, had already been +addressed by a Cabinet Minister; but when Rodwell rose, a neat, spruce +figure in his well-fitting morning-coat, with well-brushed hair, and an +affable smile, the applause was tremendous--even greater than that which +had greeted the Minister. + +Lewin Rodwell was a people's idol--one of those who, in these times, are +so suddenly placed high upon the pedestal of public opinion, and as +quickly cast down. + +A man's reputation is made to-day and marred to-morrow. Rodwell's rapid +rise to fortune had certainly been phenomenal. Yet, as he had "made +money in the City"--like so many other people--nobody took the trouble +to inquire exactly how that money had been obtained. By beating the +patriotic drum so loudly he stifled down inquiry, and the public now +took him at his own valuation. + +A glib and forceful orator, with a suave, persuasive manner, at times +declamatory, but usually slow and decisive, he thrust home his arguments +with unusual strength and power. + +In repeating Lord Kitchener's call for recruits, he pointed to the +stricken fields of Belgium, recalling those harrowing scenes of rapine +and murder, in August, along the fair valley of the Meuse. He +described, in vivid language, the massacre in cold blood of seven +hundred peaceful men, women and young children in the little town of +Dinant-sur-Meuse, the town of gingerbread and beaten brass; the sack of +Louvain, and the appalling scenes in Liege and Malines, at the same time +loudly denouncing the Germans as "licentious liars" and the "spawn of +Satan." From his tongue fell the most violent denunciations of Germany +and all her ways, until his hearers were electrified by his whole-souled +patriotism. + +"The Kaiser," he cried, "is the Great Assassin of civilisation. There +is now ample evidence, documentary and otherwise, to prove that he, the +Great War Lord, forced this great war upon the world at a moment which +he considered propitious to himself. We now, alas I know that as far +back as June 1908 the Kaiser assembled his Council and, in a secret +speech, declared war against England. You, ladies and gentlemen, have +been bamboozled and befooled all along by a Hush-a-bye Government who +told you that there never would be war:" emphatic words which were met +with loud yells of "Shame!" and execration. + +"The Cabinet," he continued, "knew all along--they knew as far back as +1908--that this Mad Dog of Germany intended to strangle and crush us. +Yet, what did they do? They told you--and you believed them--that we +should never have war--not in our time, they said; while in the House of +Commons they, knowing what they did, actually suggested disarmament! +Think of it!" + +Renewed cries of "Shame!" rose from all parts of the hall. + +"Well," Lewin Rodwell went on, clenching his fist, "we are at war--a war +the result of which no man can, as yet, foresee. But win we must--yet, +if we are to win, we must still make the greatest sacrifices. We must +expend our last shilling and our last drop of blood if victory is at +last to be ours. Germany, the mighty country of the volte-face, with +her blood-stained Kaiser at her head, has willed that Teuton `kultur' +shall crush modern civilisation beneath the heel of its jack-boot. Are +you young men of Scotland to sit tight here and allow the Germans to +invade you, to ruin and burn your homes, and to put your women and +children to the sword? Will you actually allow this accursed race of +murderers, burglars and fire-bugs to swarm over this land which your +ancestors have won for you? No! Think of the past history of your +homes and your dear ones, and come forward now, to-night, all of you of +military age, and give in your names for enlistment! Come, I implore of +you!" he shouted, waving his arms. "Come forward, and do your duty as +men in the service of mankind--your duty to your King, your country, and +your God!" + +His speech, of which this was only one very small extract, was certainly +a brilliant and telling one. When he sat down, not only was there a +great thunder of applause while the fine organ struck up "Rule +Britannia," but a number of strong young men, in their new-born +enthusiasm, rose from the audience and announced their intention of +enlisting. + +"Excellent!" cried Rodwell, rising again from his chair. "Here are +brave fellows ready to do their duty! Come, let all you slackers follow +their example and act as real honest, patriotic men--the men of the +Scotland of history!" + +This proved an incentive to several waverers. But what, indeed, would +that meeting have thought had they caught the words the speaker +whispered in German beneath his breath, as he reseated himself? "More +cannon-fodder," he had muttered, though his face was brightened by a +smile of supreme satisfaction of a true Briton, for he had realised by +his reception there in Edinburgh, where audiences were never +over-demonstrative, how exceedingly popular he was. + +Afterwards he had supper at the Caledonian Hotel with the Cabinet +Minister whom he had supported; and later, when he retired to his room, +he at once locked the door, flung off his coat, and threw himself into +the armchair by the fire to smoke and think. + +He was wondering what action his friends at Number 70 Berlin were taking +in consequence of the report he had made on the previous night. On +Wednesday the north-east coast of England would be left unguarded. +What, he wondered, would happen to startle with "frightfulness" the +stupid English, whom he at heart held in such utter contempt? + +That same night Jack Sainsbury was on his way home in a taxi from the +theatre with Elise. They had spent a delightful evening together. Mrs +Shearman had arranged to accompany them, but at the last moment had been +prevented by a headache. The play they had seen was one of the +spy-plays at that moment so popular in London; and Elise, seated at his +side, was full of the impressions which the drama had left upon her. + +"I wonder if there really are any spies still among us, Jack?" she +exclaimed, as, with her soft little hand in his, they were being whirled +along up darkened Regent Street in the direction of Hampstead. + +"Alas! I fear there are many," was her lover's reply. "Poor Jerrold +told me many extraordinary things which showed how cleverly conceived is +this whole plot against England." + +"But surely you don't think that there are really any spies still here. +There might have been some before the war, but there can't be any now." + +"Why not, dearest?" he asked very seriously. He was as deeply in love +with her as she was with him. "The Germans, having prepared for war for +so many years, have, no doubt, taken good care to establish many +thoroughly trustworthy secret agents in our midst. Jerrold often used +to declare how certain men, who were regarded as the most honest, true +John Bull Englishmen, were actually in the service of the enemy. As an +instance, we have the case of Frederic Adolphus Gould, who was arrested +at Rochester last April. He was a perfect John Bull: he spoke English +without the slightest trace of accent; he hated Germany and all her +works, and he was most friendly with many naval officers at Chatham. +Yet he was discovered to be a spy, having for years sent reports of all +our naval movements to Germany, and in consequence he was sent to penal +servitude for six years. In the course of the inquiries it was found +that he was a German who had fought in the Franco-German war, and was +actually possessed of the inevitable iron cross!" + +"Impossible!" cried the girl, in her sweet, musical voice. + +"But it's all on record! The fellow was a dangerously clever spy; and +no doubt there are many others of his sort amongst us. Jerrold declared +so, and told me how the authorities, dazzled by the glamour of Teuton +finance, were, unfortunately, not yet fully awake to the craft and +cunning of the enemy and the dangers by which we are beset." + +Then he lapsed into silence. + +"Your friend Dr Jerrold took a very keen interest in the spy-peril, +didn't he?" + +"Yes, dear. And I frequently helped him in watching and investigating," +was his reply. "In the course of our inquiries we often met with some +very strange adventures." + +"Did you ever catch a spy?" she asked, quickly interested, for the +subject was one upon which Jack usually avoided speaking. + +"Yes, several," was his brief and rather vague reply. The dead man's +discretion was reflected upon him. He never spoke of his activity more +frequently than was necessary. In such inquiries silence was golden. + +"And you really think there are many still at large?" + +"I know there are, Elise," he declared quickly. "The authorities are, +alas! so supine that their lethargy is little short of criminal. Poor +Jerrold foresaw what was happening. He had no axe to grind, as they +have at the War Office. To-day the policy of the Government seems to be +to protect the aliens rather than interfere with them. Poor Jerrold's +exposure of the unsatisfactory methods of our bureau of contra-espionage +to a certain member of Parliament will, I happen to know, be placed +before the House ere long. Then matters may perhaps be remedied. If +they are not, I really believe that the long-suffering public will take +affairs into their own hands." + +"But I don't understand what spies have done against us," queried Elise, +looking into her lover's face in the furtive light of the street-lamp +they were at that moment passing. Her question was quite natural to a +woman. + +"Done!" echoed her fine manly lover. "Why, lots of our disasters have +been proved to be due to their machinations. The authorities well know +that all our disasters do not appear in the newspapers, for very obvious +reasons. Look what spies did in Belgium! Men who had lived in that +country all their lives, believed to be Belgians and occupying high and +responsible positions--men who were deeply respected, and whose loyalty +was unquestioned--openly revealed themselves as spies of the Kaiser, and +betrayed their friends the instant the Germans set foot on Belgian soil. +All has long ago been prepared for an invasion of Great Britain, and +when `the Day' comes we shall, depend upon it, receive a very rude +shock, for the same thing will certainly happen." + +"How wicked it all is!" she remarked. + +"All war is `wicked,' dearest," was the young man's slow reply. "Yet I +only wish I were fit enough to wear khaki." + +"But you can surely do something at home," she suggested, pressing his +hand. "There are many things here to do, now that you've left the +City." + +"Yes, I _will_ do something. I must, _and I will_!" he declared +earnestly. + +A silence again fell between them. + +"It is a great pity poor Dr Jerrold died as he did," the girl remarked +thoughtfully at last. "I met him twice with you, and I liked him +awfully. He struck me as so thoroughly earnest and so perfectly +genuine." + +"He was, Elise. When he died--well--I--I lost my best friend," and he +sighed. + +"Yes," she answered. "And he was doing such a good work, patiently +tracing out suspicious cases of espionage." + +"He was. Yet by so doing he, like all true patriots, got himself +strangely disliked, first by the Germans themselves, who hated him, and +secondly by the Intelligence Department." + +"The latter were jealous that he, a mere civilian doctor, should dare to +interfere, I suppose," remarked the girl thoughtfully. + +"The khaki cult is full of silly jealousies and petty prejudices." + +"Exactly. It was a very ridiculous situation. Surely the man in khaki +cannot pursue inquiries so secretly and delicately as the civilian. The +Scotland Yard detective does not go about dressed in the uniform of an +inspector. Therefore, why should an Intelligence officer put on +red-tabs in order to make himself conspicuous? No, dearest," he went +on; "I quite agree with the doctor that the officials whose duty it is +to look after spies have not taken sufficient advantage of patriotic +civilians who are ready to assist them." + +"Why don't you help them, Jack?" suggested the girl. "You assisted Dr +Jerrold, and you know a great deal regarding spies and their methods. +Yet you are always so awfully mysterious about them." + +"Am I, darling?" he laughed, carrying her hand tenderly to his lips and +kissing it fondly. + +"Yes, you are," she protested quickly. "Do tell me one thing--answer me +one question, Jack. Have you any suspicion in one single case?--I mean +do you really know a spy?" + +Jack hesitated. He drew a long breath, as again across his troubled +mind flashed that thought which had so constantly obsessed him ever +since that afternoon before Jerome Jerrold had died so mysteriously. + +"Yes, Elise," he answered in a thick voice. "Yes, I do." + +CHAPTER ELEVEN. + +THE ENEMY'S CIPHER. + +The afternoon of December 16th, 1914--the 135th day of the war--was grey +and gloomy in Northumberland Avenue, that short thoroughfare of high +uniform hotels and buildings. + +The street-lamps had just been lit around Trafalgar Square when Lewin +Rodwell passed out of the big hall of the Constitutional Club, and down +the steps into the street. At the moment a newsboy dashed past crying +the evening papers. + +The words that fell upon Rodwell's ear caused him to start; and, +stopping the lad, he purchased a paper, and, halting, read the bold, +startling headlines: "Bombardment of the East Coast this morning: Great +destruction of seaside towns." + +"Ach!" he murmured with a grin of satisfaction. "Ach! Number 70 was +not slow in acting upon my message. Instead of the German Fleet falling +into the trap, they have taught these pigs of English a lesson. Not +long ago one Minister declared that if the German Fleet did not come out +of the Kiel Canal, that the brave British would dig them like rats out +of a hole. Good! They have come out to respond to that challenge," and +he laughed in grim satisfaction. "Let's see what they've done." + +Turning upon his heel, in his eagerness to learn the truth, he +reascended the broad steps of the Club, and in the hall seated himself +and eagerly devoured the account which, at that moment, was thrilling +the whole country. + +The paper stated, as all will remember, that the German ships having, by +some extraordinary and unknown means, succeeded in evading the diligent +watch kept upon them in the North Sea, had appeared on the Yorkshire +coast early that morning. A German battleship, together with several +first-class cruisers, had made a raid, and shelled Hartlepool, +Scarborough and Whitby. At the three towns bombarded much damage was +done, hotels, churches and hospitals being struck; and, according to the +casualty list at that moment available, twenty-nine persons had been +killed and forty-six wounded at Hartlepool; two killed and two wounded +at Whitby, and thirteen casualties in Scarborough. The paper added that +the list of casualties was believed to be very much greater, and would, +it was thought, amount to quite two hundred. British patrol boats had +endeavoured to cut off the Germans, whereupon the latter had fled. + +Lewin Rodwell, having read the leading article, in which the journal +loudly protested against the bombardment of undefended towns, and the +ruthless slaughter of women and children, cast the paper aside, rose and +again went out. + +As he walked in the falling twilight towards Pall Mall, he laughed +lightly, muttering in German, beneath his breath: "That is their first +taste of bombardment! They will have many yet, in the near future. +They laugh at our Zeppelins now. But will they laugh when our new +aircraft bases are ready? No. The idiots, they will not laugh when we +begin to drop bombs upon London!" + +And, hailing a taxi, he entered it and drove home to Bruton Street, +where Sir Boyle Huntley was awaiting him. + +The man with the bloated, red face and loose lips greeted his friend +warmly as he entered the quiet, cosy study. Then when Franks, Rodwell's +man, had pulled down the blinds and retired, he exclaimed: + +"Seen this evening's paper? Isn't it splendid, Lewin! All your doing, +my dear fellow. You'll get a handsome reward for it. Trustram is very +useful to us, after all." + +"Yes," was the other's reply. "He's useful--but only up to a certain +point. My only regret is that we haven't a real grip upon him. If we +knew something against him--or if he'd borrowed money from one of our +friends--then we might easily put on the screw, and learn a lot. As it +is, he's careful to give away but little information, and that not +always trustworthy." + +"True," was Sir Boyle's reply. "But could we not manage to entice him +into our fold? We've captured others, even more wary than he, +remember." + +"Ah! I wish I could see a way," replied Rodwell reflectively, as he +stood before his own fireplace, his hands thrust deep into his trousers +pockets. + +"To my mind, Lewin, I foresee a danger," said the stout man, tossing his +cigarette-end into the grate as he rose and stood before his friend. + +"How?" + +"Well--last night I happened to be at the theatre, and in the stalls in +front of me sat Trustram with young Sainsbury, the fellow whom we +dismissed from the Ochrida office." + +"Sainsbury!" gasped the other. "Is he on friendly terms with Trustram, +do you think?" + +"I don't think, my dear fellow--I am certain," was the reply. "He had +his girl with him, and all three were laughing and chatting merrily +together." + +"His girl? Let me see, we had him watched a few days ago, didn't we? +That's a girl living up at Hampstead--daughter of a Birmingham +tool-manufacturer, Elise Shearman, isn't she?" remarked Rodwell slowly, +his eyebrows narrowing as he spoke. + +"I believe that was the name. Olsen watched and reported, didn't he?" +asked the Baronet. + +"Yes. I must see him. That young fellow is dangerous to us, Boyle-- +distinctly dangerous! He knows something, remember, and he would have +told his friend Jerrold--if the latter had not conveniently died just +before his visit to Wimpole Street." + +"Yes. That was indeed a lucky incident--eh?" + +"And now he is friendly with Charles Trustram. How did they meet, I +wonder?" + +"Trustram was, of course, a friend of Jerrold's." + +"Ah--I see. Well, we must lose no time in acting," exclaimed Lewin +Rodwell in a low, hard voice. "I quite realise the very grave and +imminent danger. We may be already suspected by Trustram." + +"Most probably, I think. We surely can't afford to court disaster any +further." + +"No," was Rodwell's low, decisive answer, and he drew a long breath. +"We must act--swiftly and effectively." + +And then he lapsed into a long silence, during which his active brain +was ardently at work in order to devise some subtle and deadly plan +which should crush out suspicion and place them both in a position of +further safety. + +At the moment, the British public believed both men to be honest, +patriotic supporters of the Government--men who were making much +sacrifice for the country's welfare. + +What if the horrible and disgraceful truth ever became revealed? What +if they were proved to be traitors? Why, a London mob would undoubtedly +lynch them both, and tear them limb from limb! + +One man in England knew the truth--that was quite plain--and that man +was young Sainsbury, the clerk who had accidentally overheard those +indiscreet words in the boardroom in Gracechurch Street. + +Lewin Rodwell, though ever since that afternoon when he had been so +indiscreet he had tried to hide the truth from himself, now realised +that, at all hazards, the young man's activity must be cut short, and +his mouth closed. + +Sir Boyle remained and dined with him. As a bachelor, and an epicure, +Lewin Rodwell always gave excellent dinners, dinners that were renowned +in London. He had a French _chef_ to whom he paid a big salary--a man +who had been _chef_ at Armenonville, in the Bois, in Paris. Upon his +kitchen Rodwell spared nothing, hence when any of those men--whom he +afterwards so cleverly made use of to swell his bank-balance--accepted +his hospitality they knew that the meal would be perhaps the best +procurable in all London. + +Many are the men-about-town who pride themselves upon their knowledge of +the gastronomic art, and talk with loving reflections of the soups, +entrees, and what-not, that they have eaten. Most of such men are what +may be termed "hotel epicures." They swallow the dishes served at the +fashionable hotels--dishes to the liking of their own palates possibly-- +smack their lips, pay, and are satisfied. But the real epicure--and he +is indeed a _rara avis_--is the one who knows that the thin-sliced grey +truffle, light as a feather, cannot be put on a fillet in London, and +that "sea-truffles" have never been seen in the Metropolis. + +To be a real epicure one must be a cosmopolitan, taking one's +_bouillabaisse_ in Marseilles, one's red mullet in Leghorn, one's +caviare at eleven in the morning in Bucharest, one's smoked fish and +cheese in Tromso, one's chicken's breasts with rice in Bologna, and so +on, across the face of the earth. To the man who merely pretends to +know, the long gilt-printed menu of the smart London hotel becomes +enticing to the palate, but to the man who has eaten his dinner under +many suns it is often an amusing piece of mysteriously-worded bunkum. + +Lewin Rodwell and his friend the Birthday Baronet sat down together to a +perfectly-cooked and perfectly-served repast. Franks, the quiet, +astute, clean-shaven man, a secret friend of Germany like his master, +moved noiselessly, and the pair chatted without restraint, knowing well +that Franks--whose real name was Grunhold--would say nothing. It was +not to his advantage to say anything, because he was a secret agent of +Germany of the fifth class--namely, one in weekly receipt of sixty +marks, or three pounds. + +Rodwell was apprehensive, unhappy, and undecided. Truth to tell, he +wanted to be alone, to plot and to scheme. His friend's presence +prevented him from thinking. Yet, after dinner, he was compelled to go +forth with him somewhere, so they went to the _revue_ at the Hippodrome, +and on to Murray's afterwards. + +It was half-past two o'clock in the morning when Rodwell re-entered with +his latch-key and, passing into his den, found upon his writing-table a +rather soiled note, addressed in a somewhat uneducated hand, which had +evidently been left during his absence. + +Throwing off his overcoat, he took up the note and, tearing it open, +read the few brief unsigned lines it contained. Then, replacing it upon +the table, he drew his white hand across his brow, as though to clear +his troubled brain. + +Afterwards he crossed to the small safe let into the wall near the +fireplace and, unlocking it, took forth a little well-worn +memorandum-book bound in dark blue leather. + +"Cipher Number 38, I think," he muttered to himself, as he turned over +its pages until he came to that for which he was in search. + +Then he sat down beneath the reading-lamp and carefully studied the +page, which, ruled in parallel columns, displayed in the first column +the alphabet, in the second the key-sentence of the cipher in question-- +one of forty-three different combinations of letters--and in the third +the discarded letters to be interspersed in the message in order to +render any attempt at deciphering the more difficult. + +In that cleverly-compiled little volume were forty-three different +key-sentences, each easy of remembrance, and corresponding in its number +of letters with about two-thirds, or so, of the number of letters of the +alphabet. From time to time it changed automatically, according to the +calendar and to a certain rule set forth at the end of the little +volume. Hence, though the spy's code was constantly being changed +without any correspondence from headquarters--"Number 70 Berlin"--yet, +without a copy of the book, the exact change and its date could not be +ascertained. + +Truly, the very best brains of Germany had, long ago, been concentrated +upon the complete system of espionage in Great Britain, with the result +that the organisation was now absolutely perfect. + +Taking a sheet of ruled paper from one of the compartments in the +American rolltop desk before him, Lewin Rodwell, after leaning back +wearily in his chair to compose himself, commenced, by reference to the +pages of the little book before him, to trace out the cipher equivalents +of the information contained in the note that had been left for him by +an unknown hand in his absence. + +He opened the big silver cigarette-box at his elbow, and having taken a +cigarette, he lit it and began reducing the information into cipher, +carefully producing a jumble of letters, a code so difficult that it had +for a long time entirely defied the British War Office, the Admiralty, +the Foreign Office, and the French Secret Service. + +Though marvellously ingenious, yet it was, after all, quite simple when +one knew the key-sentence. + +Those key-sentences used by "Number 70 Berlin" in their wonderful and +ever-changing secret code--that code by which signal lights were flashed +across Great Britain by night, and buzzed out by wireless by day--were +quite usual sentences, often proverbs in English, such as "A little +knowledge is a dangerous thing," "A man and his money are soon parted," +"Give one an inch and he'll take an ell," "Money makes the world go +round," and so on. + +Simple, of course. Yet the very simplicity of it all, combined with the +constant change, constituted its greatest and most remarkable secrecy. +The great Steinhauer, with his far-reaching tentacles of espionage +across both hemispheres, held his octopus-like grip upon the world, a +surer, a more subtle and a more ingenious hold than the civilised world, +from the spies of Alexander the Great down to those of President Kruger, +had ever seen. + +With infinite care, and because the information concerning certain naval +movements in the Channel was urgent, he produced a mass of letters with +words in German interspersed--a cipher message which resulted a +fortnight later in one of our battleships being sunk in the Channel, +with only eighty survivors. Of the message the following is a +facsimile:-- + +CHAPTER TWELVE. + +ON THIN ICE. + +One evening early in January three men had assembled and held a serious +conference in Jack Sainsbury's modest little flat in Heath Street, +Hampstead. His sister being out for the day, Jack had personally +admitted his visitors, who were Charles Trustram and Sir Houston Bird, +and the trio had sat by the fire discussing a matter of the greatest +moment. + +Briefly, the facts were as follow: Trustram had, ever since the raid on +Scarborough, wondered whether the failure of the British naval plan to +entrap the German Fleet had been directly due to his own indiscretion in +mentioning to Lewin Rodwell what was intended. He deeply regretted +having let out what had been an absolute secret; yet Rodwell was a man +of such tried and sterling patriotism, constantly addressing audiences +in the interests of recruiting, and a man whose battle cry "Britain for +the British" had been taken up everywhere. No one was possessed of a +deeper and more intense hatred of Germany than he, and Trustram felt +certain that no man was a greater enemy of the Kaiser. + +The papers wrote fulsome praise of his splendid example and his fine +patriotic efforts, both as regards recruiting and in the raising of +funds for various charitable objects; therefore the Admiralty official +was wont to comfort himself with the reflection that such a man could +never be an agent of Germany. + +Only a few days ago, when he had confessed to Sir Houston and the latter +had, on his part, spoken to Sainsbury, the puzzle had become pieced +together; and on that evening, as the trio sat opposite each other, the +young fellow explained how he had been dismissed from the Ochrida +Company at the instigation of Lewin Rodwell and his titled sycophant Sir +Boyle Huntley. + +"There is a mystery," Jack went on. "I'm certain there's some great +mystery regarding poor Jerrold's sudden death," he said decisively. "I +was, that night, on my way to him, to tell him what I had accidentally +learnt, and to seek his advice how to act. Yet, poor fellow, he died in +my arms." + +"His suicide was certainly quite unaccountable," declared Sir Houston. +"I often reflect and wonder whether he really did commit suicide--and +yet it was all quite plain and straightforward. He must have swallowed +a tablet--coated, no doubt, or the effect must have been far more +rapid." + +"But why did he declare that he'd been shot?" asked Trustram, whose +fine, strong face was dark and thoughtful. + +"Ah! Who knows? There's the mystery," replied the great pathologist. +"Of course, men sometimes have curious hallucinations immediately prior +to death. It might have been one." + +"He was in terrible agony--poor fellow," Jack remarked. + +"No doubt, no doubt. But the drug would, of course, account for that." + +"Then, in the light of your expert medical knowledge, you don't think +that his death was a mysterious one?" Jack queried. + +"No, I don't say that at all," was the reply of the busy man, who was +working night and day among the wounded in the hospitals. "I merely say +that Jerrold was poisoned--and probably by his own hand. That's all." + +"You say `probably,'" remarked Trustram. "Could that man, Rodwell, have +had anything to do with it do you think?" + +"My dear Mr Trustram, how can we possibly tell?" asked Sir Houston. +"What real evidence have we got? None." + +"And so clever are our enemies that we are not likely ever to get any, I +believe," was Trustram's hard reply. "I only know what has happened to +our plans for the defeat of the German Fleet. Is it really possible +that this Lewin Rodwell, one of the most popular men in England, is a +German agent?" + +"If you dared to say so, the whole country would rise and kill you with +ridicule," remarked Jack Sainsbury. "Once the British public +establishes a man as a patriot, their belief in him remains unshaken to +the very end. This war is a war where spies and spying, treachery and +double-dealing, play a far bigger part than the world ever dreams. +Jerrold always declared to me that there were German spies in every +department of the State, just as there are in France, in Russia, and in +Italy. No secret of any of the European States is a secret from the +central spy-bureau in Berlin." + +"Jerrold knew that. He set out sacrificing body and soul--nay, his very +life--to assist our Intelligence Department," Trustram remarked. + +"I know," said Jack. "They were foolishly jealous of his knowledge-- +jealous of the facts he had gathered during his wanderings up and down +Germany, and jealous of the sources of information. They pretended a +certain friendliness towards him, of course, but, as you know, the khaki +cult is never in unison with the civilian. Jerrold did his duty--did it +splendidly, as a true Englishman should. His work will live as a +record. Seven years ago he commenced, at a time when the +money-grubbing, ostrich-like section of the public--bamboozled by +politicians who pretended not to know, yet who knew too well, and who +told us there would be no war--not in our time--were content in amassing +wealth. What did they care for the country's future, as long as they +drew big dividends? Jerrold foresaw the great Teutonic plot against +civilisation, and was not afraid to point to it. What did he get for +his pains? Ridicule, derision, and aspersions that his mind was +deranged, and that he was a mere romancer. Well, to-day he's dead, and +we can only judge him by his works." + +"There are others--certain others too--whom we may also judge by their +works," remarked Trustram grimly--"their subtle, fiendish works, aimed +at the downfall of our Empire. If the truth had been realised when Lord +Roberts started out to speak--and when the whole Government united to +poke fun and heap ridicule upon the great Field-Marshal, who knew more +of real warfare than the whole tangle of red-tape at Whitehall +combined--then to-day thousands of brave men, the flower of our youth, +who have laid down their lives in the trenches in Flanders, would have +been alive to-day. No!" he cried angrily. "There are traitors in our +midst, and yet if one dares to suspect, if one dares to breathe a word, +even to inquire and bring absolute evidence, the only thing which the +khaki-clad Department will vouchsafe to the informant is a meagre +printed form to acknowledge that one's report has been `received.' +After that, the matter is buried." + +"Perhaps burnt," laughed Sir Houston. + +"Most probably," Trustram asserted. "To me, an Englishman, the whole +situation is as utterly appalling as it is ludicrous. We must win. And +it is up to us all to see that _we do win_." + +"Excellent!" cried Sir Houston. "And so we will--all three of us. I'll +go to the War Office to-morrow and try and see someone in authority. +You, Sainsbury, will come with me, and you'll make your statement-- +you'll tell them all that you know. They must take some notice of it!" + +"I should be quite ready," was Jack's reply. "But will they believe me? +They didn't believe poor Jerrold, remember--and he actually held proof +positive of certain traitorous acts. The whole idea of the Intelligence +Department is to pooh-pooh any report furnished by a civilian. Indeed, +Jerrold showed me a signed statement by a British officer whom the +authorities had actually threatened to cashier because he had assisted +him to investigate some night-signalling in Surrey!" + +"Impossible!" cried Sir Houston. + +"It's the absolute truth. I've had the statement in my own hands. He +was an officer stationed in a town in Surrey." + +"Well," remarked the great pathologist. "Let us allow the past bygones +to be bygones. Let us work--not in resentment of the past, but for our +protection in the future. What shall we do?" + +The two men were silent. On the one hand they saw the fortress-wall +which the War Office placed between the civilian and the man in khaki. +Reports of espionage were extremely unwelcome at Whitehall. And yet how +could men in khaki and assistant-provost-marshals, with their crimson +brassards of special-constable or veteran volunteer conspicuousness, +ever hope to cope with the clever, subtle and wary spies of Germany? +The whole thing was too farcical for words. + +The British public, trustful of this cult of khaki and of a Cabinet who +daily bleated forth "All is well!" had no knowledge, for instance, of +the cleverly-laid plan of the enemy in Russia--the plot to blow up +Ochta, the Russian Woolwich. Later, the English, in their ignorance of +German intrigue, asked each other why no forward move was being made-- +the move promised us in the spring. They knew nothing of that great +disaster, so cleverly accomplished by Germany's spies, the blowing up of +Ochta, that disaster which entirely crippled Russia, and which resulted, +later on, in her retreat from Warsaw. It was this--alas that I should +pen these lines!--which prevented the British and French from advancing +during the whole spring and summer of 1915. + +The Russians, our gallant allies, were producing, at the Putilof works, +great siege guns, bigger than any turned out from Krupp's. Yet, after +Ochta had been blown up by means of a cable laid by spies under the Neva +before the war, so that hardly one brick stood upon another and +Petrograd had been shaken as by an earthquake in consequence, what could +Russia do? She had no munitions; therefore why make guns? + +That act of German spies in directly crippling Russia--an act plotted +and prepared ten years previously--had checked the striking power of +France, and quite defeated the splendid intentions of Lord Kitchener and +our own good General French. + +Let history speak. As our two armies were holding only a small section +of the line, it was more convenient for the general interests of the +Allies that we should, instead of employing our increased forces, +postpone the entry into action of our national armies, and bend our +chief energies to the task of supplying Russia with the munitions which +had suddenly become to her a matter of life or death. + +Was not this, indeed, an object-lesson to England? + +The trio were discussing the situation, when Jack Sainsbury exclaimed: + +"And yet the public will not believe that there are spies amongst us-- +even in face of daily events of incendiary fires, of submarine outrages, +and of spies who, arriving with American passports, are watched, +arrested, and executed at the Tower of London." + +"True?" cried Trustram. "I agree entirely with all you say. Shall we +act--or shall we join in the saliva of sweetness and raise the chorus +that the Germans are, after all, dear good people?" + +"Never!" exclaimed Sir Houston fiercely. "Jerrold knew, and he died +mysteriously. We, all three of us, know. Let us act; let us raise our +voices, as the Duke of Newcastle, Lord Charles Beresford, Lord Leith of +Fyvie, Lord Crawford, Lord Portsmouth, Lord Headley, and all the others +have raised theirs. `Britain for the British,' I say, and we must win-- +and, at all hazards, _we will win_!" + +"Yes, but what shall we do? How are we now to act?" queried Jack, +looking at his visitors. + +"That we must decide," Sir Houston responded. "We know many things-- +things that are proved as far as Lewin Rodwell is concerned. We must +watch--and watch very closely and carefully--then we shall learn more." + +"But while we are watching the Empire is, surely, in gravest peril?" +Trustram protested. + +"We have an Intelligence Department which is said to be dealing with +news leaking from our shores." + +"Intelligence Department?" laughed Jack Sainsbury. "Read the German +papers, and you'll see that the public in Germany are daily told the +actual truth concerning us, while we are deliberately kept in ignorance +by the superior cult of khaki." Then he added, "The whole of this +system of secrecy, and of playing upon the public mind, must be broken +down, otherwise very soon, I fear, the British will believe nothing that +is told them. We won't be spoon-fed on tit-bits any more. We are not +the pet-dogs of a Hide-the-Truth administration." + +"That's a bit stiff," declared Trustram with a frown, as befitted an +official wearing His Majesty's uniform. + +"I don't care! I speak exactly what I feel. The British Empire is +to-day greatly menaced, and if we are to win, we must face the facts and +speak out boldly. We don't want these incompetent khaki-clad amateur +detectives telling the matter-of-fact British nation official untruths. +Why, only the other day the Parliamentary mouthpiece of the War Office +told us that every German secret agent was known and under constant +surveillance! Is that the truth, I ask you, or is it a deliberate +official falsehood? Read Hansard's reports. I have quoted from them!" + +The two men could not raise a protest. They knew, alas! that the words +the young man had spoken were the actual and ghastly truth. + +"Well," he went on, looking at his visitors, "we know what is in +progress--or at least we have the strongest suspicion of it. Now, what +decision have you both arrived at? What, in the interests of the safety +of the Empire, shall we do?" + +Trustram shrugged his shoulders blankly, while Sir Houston drew a long +breath. + +Neither man replied. What could they do, save to warn the War Office, +who they knew would probably turn a deaf ear to all their suspicions? + +CHAPTER THIRTEEN. + +TOWARDS THE BRINK. + +Later that same evening Jack, who had walked down Fitzjohn's Avenue to +Mr Shearman's, as was his habit, found Elise's father at home. + +Though old Dan Shearman, a hale, bluff North-country man, rather liked +young Sainsbury, yet, at heart, he would have preferred a man of +established prosperity as his daughter's husband--a manufacturer like +himself, or a professional man with a good paying practice. Dan +Shearman--as everybody called him in Birmingham--was a practical man, +and had made a fortune by dint of hard toil and strict economy. He had +begun as a half-timer in a cotton-mill in Oldham, and had risen, step by +step, until now he was one of the biggest private employers of labour in +the Midlands. + +For years he had hoped that Elise would make a rich marriage, yet her +chance meeting with Jack Sainsbury had suddenly turned the course of +events, and both he and his wife could not hide from themselves how +deeply the young couple had fallen in love with one another. More than +once husband and wife had consulted as to whether it would not be to +Elise's future interest if they broke off the attachment. Indeed, just +before the outbreak of war, they had contemplated sending Elise for a +long stay with her aunt, who was married to an English merchant in +Palerno. + +Yet, partly because the girl begged to remain in London, and partly +because of Mrs Shearman's liking for young Sainsbury, the bluff old +fellow gave way--though there always remained the fact that Jack was a +mere clerk and that, at the present time, he was out of a situation. +That he had been rejected by the military doctors Mr Shearman knew, but +he was unaware that Jack had been left a legacy by the doctor who had so +mysteriously committed suicide in Wimpole Street. + +"Hey, lad!" old Dan cried cheerily, as Jack entered the little +smoking-room. "Sit yer down a moment, an' have a cigarette. There's +some over yonder!" + +When the young man had lit up and seated himself, Shearman asked: + +"Well! what's the pay-pers say to-night--eh? Aw wonder 'ow this 'ere +war is goin' on?" + +"Badly, sir, I fear," was Sainsbury's prompt reply. "We don't seem to +be able to move against the superior power of the enemy." + +"Superior power be 'anged, lad!" cried the round-faced, grey-haired old +man, his eyes flashing as he spoke. "Aw don't believe in what these +'ere writers talk about--their big guns, their superior power, an' all +that! We're still powerful enough in good old England to lick the 'ole +lot o' them sour-krowts, as I 'eard a man in New Street callin' 'em +yesterday." + +"Well, I hope so," laughed Sainsbury, who really was anxious to get +upstairs to the drawing-room, where he knew Elise was eagerly awaiting +him. "But at present we seem to be progressing very slowly. The +Russian steam-roller, as it was called, has come to a halt." + +"Ah! a bit more o' them there writers' bunkum! What aw say is that +we're a-bein' misled altogether. Nawbody tells the truth, and nawbody +writes it. What yer reads to-day, lad, 'll be flatly contradicted +to-morrow. So what's the use o' believin' anything?" + +He was, truly, a bluff old chap who, born and bred in Lancashire, had +afterwards spent three parts of his life in and about Birmingham. Old +Dan Shearman was a man who always wanted hard facts, and when he got +them he would make use of them in business, as well as elsewhere, with +an acumen far greater than many men who had been educated at a public +school. He rather prided himself upon his national-school training, and +was fond of remarking, "Aw doan't pretend to much book-learnin', but aw +knows my trade, an aw knows 'ow to make money by it--which a lot o' +people doan't!" + +Jack Sainsbury always found him amusing, for he was full of dry, witty +remarks; and as he sat for a quarter of an hour, or so, the old fellow, +puffing at his cigar--though he always smoked his pet pipe in his +private office at the works--made some very caustic remarks about +official red-tape at Whitehall. + +"We're a-makin' munitions now," he explained. "But oh! the queries we +get, and the visits from officers in uniform--people who come and tell +me 'ow aw should run my business, yet the first time they've ever seen a +Drummond lathe is in one of my workshops. Aw say that 'arf of it's all +a mere wicked waste of a man's time!" + +"Yes," sighed the young man--"I suppose there is far too much +officialism; and yet perhaps it is necessary." Then he added, "Is Elise +at home, do you know?" + +"Yes, she's at 'ome, lad--she's at 'ome!" laughed the old fellow +cheerily. "Aw know you want to go oop to 'er. Well, aw did the same +when I wor your age. Aw won't keep yer longer. So go oop, lad, an' see +'er. My wife's out somewhere--gone to see one of 'er fine friends, I +expect." + +Jack did not want further persuasion. Leaving the old man, he closed +the door, ran up the carpeted steps two at a time and, in a few moments, +held his well-beloved fondly in his arms. + +She looked very pretty that night--a sweet, rather demure little figure +in a smart, but young-looking dinner-gown of pale cornflower-blue +crepe-de-chine, a dress which well became her, setting off her trim, +dainty figure to perfection, while the touch of velvet of the same shade +in her fair hair enhanced her beauty. + +"Oh! I'm so glad you've come, dear!" cried the girl, as she looked +fondly into her lover's face with those clear, childlike eyes, which +held him always beneath their indescribable spell. And as he imprinted +soft kisses upon her lips, she added: "Do you know, Jack, I may be most +awfully silly--probably you'll say I am--but the truth is I have +suddenly been seized by grave apprehensions concerning you." + +"Why, darling?" he asked quickly, still holding her in his strong arms. + +"Well, I'll confess, however silly it may appear," said the girl. "All +day to-day I've felt ever so anxious about you. I know that, like poor +Dr Jerrold, you are trying to discover and punish the spies of Germany. +Now, those people know it. They are as unscrupulous as they are +vindictive, and I--well, I've been seriously wondering whether, knowing +that you are their enemy, they may not endeavour to do you some grave +harm." + +"Harm!" laughed the young man. "Why, whatever makes you anticipate such +a thing, darling?" + +"Well--I don't really know," was her reply. "Only to-day I've been +thinking so much about it all--about Dr Jerrold's strange death, and of +all you've lately told me--that I'm very apprehensive. Do take care of +yourself, Jack dear, won't you--for my sake?" + +"Of course I will," he said, with a smile. "But what terrible fate do +you anticipate for me? You don't really think that the Germans will try +and murder me, do you?" + +"Ah! You don't know what revenge they might not take upon you," the +girl said as they stood together near the fire in the big, handsome +room, his arm tenderly around her waist. "Remember that poor Dr +Jerrold upset a good many of their plans, and that you helped him." + +"Well, and if I did, I don't really anticipate being assassinated," he +answered, quite calmly. + +"But the doctor died. Why?" asked the girl. "Could his death have been +due to revenge, do you think?" + +Jack Sainsbury was silent. It was not the first time that that vague +and terrible suggestion had crossed his mind, yet he had never uttered a +word to her regarding his suspicions. + +"Jerome committed suicide," was his quiet, thoughtful reply. + +"That's what the doctors said. But do you think he really did?" queried +the girl. + +Jack shrugged his shoulders, but made no reply. + +"Ah! I see! You yourself are not quite convinced!" she said, looking +him straight in the face. + +"Well, Elise," he said after a brief silence, and with a forced laugh, +"I really don't think I should worry. I can surely take care of myself. +Perhaps you would like me to carry a revolver? I'll do so, if it will +content you." + +"You can't be too careful, dear," she said earnestly, laying her slim +fingers upon his arm. "Remember that they are the spies of the most +barbarous race on earth and, in order to gain their ends, they'll stick +at nothing." + +"Not even at killing your humble and most devoted servant--eh?" laughed +Jack. "Well, if it will relieve your mind I'll carry a pistol. I have +an automatic Browning at home--a bit rusty, I fear." + +"Then carry it with you always, dear.--I--" But she hesitated in her +eagerness, and did not conclude her sentence. + +In a second he realised that she had been on the point of speaking, of +telling him something. Yet she had broken off just in time. That fact +puzzled him considerably. + +"Well," he asked, his serious gaze fixed upon those big blue eyes of his +well-beloved, while her fair head rested upon his shoulder: "what has +caused you these gloomy forebodings concerning myself, dearest? Tell +me." + +"Oh, nothing," she replied in a strange, nervous voice. "I suppose that +I'm horribly silly, of course. But, knowing all that you have told me +about the wonderful spy-system of Germany, I have now become gravely +apprehensive regarding your safety." + +Jack saw that she was endeavouring to conceal something. What knowledge +had she gained? In an instant he grew eagerly interested. Yet he did +not, at the moment, press her further. + +"And you think that the fact of carrying a gun will be a protection to +me, do you, little one? Well, most women believe that. Yet, as a +matter of fact, firearms are very little protection. If a man is +seriously marked down by an enemy, a whole army of detectives cannot +save him. Think of the political assassinations, anarchist outrages, +and the like. Police protection has usually proved futile." + +"But you can take proper ordinary precautions," she suggested. + +"And pray, dear, why do you ask me to take precautions?" he inquired. +Then, looking earnestly into her eyes, he added very gravely: +"Something--or somebody--has put all these grim fears into your head. +Now, dearest, tell me the truth," he urged. + +She made no response. Her eyes were downcast, and he saw that she +hesitated. For what reason? + +"Whoever has put all these silly ideas into your head, darling, is +responsible to me!" he said in a hard voice. + +"Well, Jack, I--I really can't help it. I--I love you, as you know; and +I can't bear to think that you are running into danger, as you +undoubtedly are." + +He looked into her pretty face again. + +"Now look here, darling," he went on: "aren't you getting just a little +too nervous about me? I quite admit that in these days of wars, of +terrible massacres, of barbarism and of outrages of which even African +savages would not be guilty, one is apt to become unduly nervous. +You've been reading the papers, perhaps. They don't always tell us the +truth nowadays, with the Censor trying to hide up everything." + +"No, Jack," she said boldly. "I haven't been reading the papers. I'm +only anxious to save you." + +"But how do you know that I'm in any danger?" he asked quickly. "Why be +anxious at all? I assure you that I'm perfectly safe. Nobody will lift +a finger against me. Why should they?" + +"Ah! you don't see," she cried. "There is a motive--a hidden motive of +revenge. Your enemies intend to do you harm--grievous bodily harm. I +know that." + +"How?" he asked quickly, fixing her splendid eyes with his. + +That straight, bold question caused her to hesitate. She had intended +to prevaricate, that he knew. She did not wish to reveal the truth to +him, yet she feared lest he might be annoyed. Nevertheless, so serious +was he, so calm and utterly defiant in face of her grave warning, that a +second later she found herself wavering. + +"Well," she replied, "I--I feel absolutely certain that it is intended +that some harm shall come to you." + +"Then I'd better go to Scotland Yard and say that I'm threatened--eh?" +he laughed merrily. "And they will put on somebody to watch me, well +knowing that, if the whole of Scotland Yard--from the Assistant +Commissioner downwards--were put on to shadow me, the result would be +just the same. I should surely be killed, if my enemies had seriously +plotted my death." + +"That's just my very argument," she said sagely, her pretty head +slightly inclined as she spoke. "I feel convinced that some evil is +intended." + +"But why, darling?" he asked in surprise. "What causes you all these +silly notions?" + +"Several things. Frankly, I don't believe that Dr Jerrold took his own +life. I believe that he was a victim of the dastardly spies of the +Great Assassin." + +Jack said nothing. The mystery in Wimpole Street was great. Yet, how +could they dispute the medical evidence? + +"That's another matter," he remarked. "How does that concern my +safety?" + +"It does, very deeply. Your enemies know that you assisted Jerrold, and +I am firmly convinced that you are marked down in consequence." + +"My darling!" he cried, drawing her closer to him. "You really make me +feel quite creepy all over!" and he laughed. + +"Oh, I do wish, dear, you'd take this grave danger seriously!" + +"But I don't. That's just it!" he answered. "I quite understand, +darling, that you may be anxious, but I really feel that your anxiety is +quite groundless and hence unnecessary." + +The girl sighed, and then protested, saying-- + +"Ah! if you would only heed my warning!" + +"Haven't I promised to do so? I'm going to carry my revolver in +future." + +"You take it as a huge joke!" she said in dissatisfaction, disengaging +herself slowly from his embrace. + +"I do. Because I can't see why you should warn me. Who has put such +thoughts into your head? Surely I know how to take care of myself?" he +exclaimed. + +"Perhaps you do. But that a grave danger threatens you, Jack, I happen +to know," was her serious reply. + +"How do you know?" he asked quickly, facing her. He had, all along, +seen that, for some unaccountable reason, she was hesitating to tell him +the truth. + +"Well," she said slowly, "if--if I tell you the truth, Jack dear, you +won't laugh at me, will you?" she asked at last. + +"Of course not, my darling. I know full well that you love me, and, as +a natural consequence, you are perhaps a little too apprehensive." + +"I have cause to be," she said in a low voice, and, taking from the +breast of her low-cut gown a crumpled letter, she handed it to him, +saying: "A week ago I received this! Read it!" + +He took it and, opening it, found it to be an ill-scribbled note, upon a +sheet of common note-paper such as one would buy in a penny packet, +envelopes included. + +The note, which was anonymous, and bore the postmark of Willesden, +commenced with the words "Dear Miss," and ran as follows: + +"Your lover, Sainsbury, has been warned to keep his nose out of other +people's affairs, and as he continues to inquire about what does not +concern him his activity is to be cut short. Tell him that, as he has +disregarded the advice given him by letter two months ago, his fate is +now sealed. The arm of Germany's vengeance is long, and reaches far. +So beware--_both of you_!" + +For a few seconds Jack held the mysterious missive in his hand, and then +suddenly he burst out laughing. + +"You surely won't allow this to worry you?" he exclaimed. "Why, it's +only some crank--somebody we know who is playing a silly practical +joke,"--and folding the letter, he gave it back to her with a careless +air. "Such a letter as that doesn't worry me for a single minute." + +"But it contains a distinct assertion--that you are doomed!" cried the +girl, pale-faced and very anxious. + +"Yes--it certainly is a very cheerful note. Whom do you know at +Willesden?" + +"Not a soul that I can think of. I've been puzzling my brains for days +as to anybody I know there, but can think of no one." + +"It was posted out there on purpose, no doubt!" he laughed. "Well, if I +were you, Elise, I wouldn't give it another thought." + +"Ah, that's all very well. But I can't get rid of the distinct belief +that some mischief is intended," answered the girl very gravely. + +"No, no, darling?" he assured her, placing his arm again round her slim +waist, and kissing her fondly upon the lips. "Don't anticipate any such +thing. Somebody's having a game with us. They think it a huge joke, no +doubt." + +"But do look the facts in the face, Jack!" she urged. "These spies of +Germany, swarming over the country as they do, will hesitate at nothing +in order to gain victory for their barbarous Fatherland. Not only have +we to fight the unscrupulous army of the Kaiser, remember, but another +army of pro-Germans in our midst,--those pretended Englishmen who have +their `spiritual homes' in Berlin." + +"True. But don't let that letter get on your nerves, darling. Burn it, +and then forget it." + +"Did you ever receive a letter warning you?" she asked. + +"Yes. I've had several. One was, I believe, in the same handwriting as +yours," was his rather careless reply. + +"You never told me of them!" + +"Because I discarded them," he said. "I believe I've had quite half a +dozen at various times, but I pay no attention to people who don't sign +their names." + +Elise Shearman sighed. In her fine blue eyes there was a distinctly +troubled look. + +She loved Jack very deeply and tenderly. What if these people actually +did make an attempt upon his life? Suppose he were killed! That the +spies of Germany had every motive to put an end to his activity in +ferreting them out, was quite plain. Indeed, her father, knowing +nothing of the anonymous letter, had referred to it that evening. He +had declared that her lover was running very grave risks. It had been +this remark which had set her thinking more deeply and more +apprehensively. + +Jack saw that she was worrying, therefore he kissed her fondly, and +reassured her that no harm would befall him. + +"I'll take every precaution possible, in order to satisfy you, my +darling," he declared, his strong arms again around her as he held her +closely to him. + +They looked indeed a handsome pair--he tall, good-looking, strong and +manly, and she dainty and fair, with a sweet, delightful expression upon +her pretty face. + +"Then--then you really love me, Jack?" she faltered, looking up into his +face as he whispered into her delicate ear, regretting if any +ill-considered word he had uttered had pained her. + +"Love you, my darling?" he cried passionately--"why, of course I do. +How can you doubt me? You surely know that, for me, there is only one +good, true woman in all the world--your own dear, sweet self!" She +smiled in full content, burying her pretty head upon his shoulder. + +"Then--then you really will take care of yourself, Jack--_won't you_?" +she implored. "When you are absent I'm always thinking--and +wondering--" + +"And worrying, I fear, little one," he interrupted. "Now don't worry. +I assure you that I'm quite safe--that--" + +His sentence was interrupted by a tap at the door. They sprang apart, +and Littlewood, old Dan's neat, middle-aged manservant--a North-country +man, a trusted friend of the family--entered and, addressing Jack, said, +with that pleasant burr in his voice: + +"There's a gentleman called, sir--gives the name of Murray, sir. He +wants to see you a moment upon some rather urgent business." + +"Murray?" echoed Jack. "I don't recollect the name. Who is he?" + +"He's a gentleman, sir. He's down in the hall. He won't detain you a +minute, he says," was the man's reply. + +"Then excuse me a moment," he said in apology to Elise, and left the +room, descending to the hall with Littlewood. + +Below stood a clean-shaven man in a black overcoat who, advancing to +meet him, said--"Are you Mr Sainsbury, sir?" + +"Yes. That's my name," replied the young man. + +"I want to speak to you privately, just for a few moments," the stranger +said. "I want to tell you something in confidence," he added, lowering +his voice. "Shall we go outside the door?" and he glanced meaningly at +Littlewood. + +At first Jack was much puzzled, but, next moment, he said-- + +"Certainly--if you wish." + +Then both men went forth, descending the steps to the pavement, +whereupon a second man, who sprang from nowhere, joined them instantly, +while "Mr Murray" said, in a calm and quite determined voice-- + +"Mr Sainsbury, we are officers of the Criminal Investigation +Department, and we arrest you upon a warrant charging you with certain +offences under the Defence of the Realm Act." + +"What!" gasped Jack, staring at them absolutely dumbfounded. "Are you +mad? What tomfoolery is this?" + +"I will read the warrant over to you at Bow Street," answered the man +who had called himself Murray. + +And, as he uttered the words, a taxi that had been waiting a few doors +away drew up, and almost before Sainsbury could protest, or seek +permission to return to his fiancee and explain the farce in progress, +he was, in full view of Littlewood, bundled unceremoniously into the +conveyance, which, next instant, moved swiftly down the hill in the +direction of Swiss Cottage station, on its way to Bow Street Police +Station. + +CHAPTER FOURTEEN. + +HELD BY THE ENEMY. + +"That can hardly be correct--because there are proofs," remarked the +tall, fair, quick-eyed man, who sat in the cold, official-looking room +at Bow Street Police Station at half-past three o'clock that same +morning. + +Jack Sainsbury was standing in defiance before the table, while, in the +room, stood the two plain-clothes men who had effected his arrest. + +The fair-haired man at the table was Inspector Tennant, of the Special +Department at New Scotland Yard, an official whose duty since the +outbreak of war was to make inquiry into the thousand-and-one cases of +espionage which the public reported weekly to that much-harassed +department. Tennant, who had graduated, as all others had graduated, +from the rank of police-constable on the streets of London, was a +reliable officer as far as patriotism and a sense of duty went. But it +was impossible for a man born in a labourer's cottage on the south side +of Dartmoor, and educated at the village school, to possess such a +highly trained brain as that possessed by say certain commissaires of +the Paris Surete. + +Thomas Tennant, a highly popular man as far as the staff at "the +Yard" went, and trusted implicitly by his superiors from the +Assistant-Commissioner downwards, worked with an iron sense of the +red-taped duty for which he received his salary. + +"I'm sorry," said Tennant, looking at the young man; "but all these +denials will not, I fear, help you in the least. As I warned you, they +are being taken down in writing, and may be used in evidence against +you," and he indicated a clerk writing shorthand at a side-table. + +Jack Sainsbury grew furious. + +"I don't care a brass button what evidence you can give against me," he +cried. "I only know that my conscience is perfectly clear. I have +tried, since the war, to help my friend Dr Jerome Jerrold of Wimpole +Street, to inquire into spies and espionage. We acted together, and +Jerrold reported much that was unknown to Whitehall. He--" + +"Doctor Jerrold is the gentleman who committed suicide--if my memory +serves me correctly," interrupted the police official, speaking very +quietly. + +"Perhaps he did. I say perhaps--remember," exclaimed the young man +under arrest. "But I don't agree with the finding of the Coroner's +jury." + +"People often disagree with a Coroner's jury," was the dry reply of the +hide-bound official, seated at the table. "But now, let us get along," +he added persuasively. "You admit that you are John James Sainsbury; +that you were, until lately, clerk in the employ of the Ochrida Copper +Corporation, in Gracechurch Street, from the service of which you were +recently discharged. Is that so?" + +"Most certainly. I have nothing to deny." + +"Good. Then let us advance a step further. You were, I believe, an +intimate friend of Dr Jerome Jerrold, who lived in Wimpole Street, and +who, for no apparent reason, committed suicide." + +"Yes." + +"You do not know, I presume, that Dr Jerrold was suspected of a very +grave offence under the Defence of the Realm Act, and that, rather than +face arrest and prosecution by court-martial as a spy--he took his own +life!" + +"It's a lie--_an infernal lie_!" shouted young Sainsbury. "Who alleges +such an outrageous lie as that?" + +The fair-haired detective smiled, and in that suave manner he usually +adopted towards prisoners, with clasped hands he said: + +"I fear I cannot tell you that." + +"But it's a confounded lie! Jerome Jerrold was no spy. He and I were +the firmest friends, and I know how he devoted his time and his money to +investigating the doings of the enemy in our midst. Did you not read +the words of the Lord Chancellor the other day?" + +"I'm afraid I didn't." + +"Well, speaking in the House of Lords, he admitted that we have not only +to fight a foe in the open field, but that their spies are in every land +and that the webs of their intrigue enmesh and entangle every +Government. It was in order to assist the authorities--your own +department indeed--that Dr Jerome, two friends of his, and myself +devoted our time to watching at nights, and investigating." + +The official's lips curled slightly. + +"I know that, full well. But how do you explain away the fact that your +friend, the doctor, committed suicide rather than face a prosecution?" + +"He had nothing to fear. Of that I am quite confident. No braver, more +loyal, or more patriotic man ever existed than he, poor fellow." + +"I'm afraid the facts hardly bear out your contention." + +"But what are the facts?" demanded the young man fiercely. + +"As I have already said, it is not within my province to tell you." + +"But I've been arrested to-night upon a false charge--a charge trumped +up against me perhaps by certain officials who may be jealous of what I +have done, and what I have learnt. I am discredited in the eyes of my +friends at the house where I was arrested. Surely I should be told the +truth!" + +"I, of course, do not know what truths may be forthcoming at your trial. +But at present I am not allowed to explain anything to you, save that +the charge against you is that you have attempted to communicate with +the enemy." + +"What!" shouted Jack, astounded: "am I actually charged, then, with +being a German spy?" + +"I'm afraid that is so." + +"But I have no knowledge of any other of the enemy's agents, save those +which were discovered by Jerrold and reported to Whitehall by him." + +"Ah! the evidence, I think, goes a little further--documentary evidence +which has recently been placed in the hands of the War Office." + +"By whom, pray?" + +"You surely don't think it possible for me to reveal the name of the +informant in such a case?" was the cold reply. + +Jack Sainsbury stood aghast and silent at the grave charge which had +been preferred against him. It meant, he knew, a trial _in camera_. He +saw how entirely he must be discredited in the eyes of the world, who +could never know the truth, or even the nature of his defence. + +He thought of Elise. What would she think? What did she think when +Littlewood told her--as he had told her, no doubt--of how he had been +mysteriously hustled into a taxi, and driven off? + +For the first time a recollection of that strange anonymous warning +which his well-beloved had received crossed his memory. Who had sent +that letter? Certainly some friend who had wished his, or her, name to +remain unknown. + +"The whole thing is a hideous farce," he cried savagely, at last. +"Nobody can prove that I am not what I here allege myself to be--an +honest, loyal and patriotic Englishman." + +"You will have full opportunity of proving that, and of disproving the +documentary evidence which is in the hands of the Director of Public +Prosecutions." + +"Public Prosecutions! Mine will be _in camera_," laughed Jack grimly. +"I suppose I shall be tried by a kind of military inquisition. I hope +they won't wear black robes, with slits for the eyes, as they did in the +old days in Spain!" he laughed. + +"I fail to see much humour in your present position, Mr Sainsbury," +replied Tennant rather frigidly. + +"I see a lot--even though I'm annoyed that your men should have called +at Fitzjohn's Avenue, instead of going to my place in Heath Street. If +you know so much about me, you surely knew my address." + +"The warrant was issued for immediate arrest, sir," exclaimed one of the +detectives to his superior. "Therefore we went to Fitzjohn's Avenue." + +"I suppose I shall have an opportunity of knowing the name of my enemy-- +of the person who laid this false information against me--and also that +I can see my counsel?" + +"The latter will certainly be allowed to-morrow." + +"May I write to Miss Shearman--my fiancee?" + +"No. But if you wish to give her any message--say by telephone--I will +see that it is sent to her, if you care to write it down." + +A pencil was handed to him, whereupon he bent and scribbled a couple of +lines. + +"To Miss Elise Shearman, from the prisoner, John Sainsbury.--Please tell +Miss Shearman that I have been arrested as a spy, and am at Bow Street +Police Station. Tell her not to worry. I have nothing to fear, and +will be at liberty very soon. Some grave official error has evidently +been made." Then, handing the slip to the Detective Inspector, he +said-- + +"If they will kindly ring up Mr Shearman's in Hampstead"--and he gave +the number--"and give that message, I shall be greatly obliged." + +"It shall be done," replied the police official. "Have you anything +else to say?" + +"Only one thing, and of this statement I hope you will make a careful +note: namely, that on the night when Dr Jerome Jerrold died so +mysteriously, I was on my way to give him some most important +information that I had gathered in the City only a few hours before-- +information which, when I reveal it, will startle the Kingdom--but he +died before I could tell him. He died in my arms, as a matter of fact." + +Inspector Tennant was silent for a few moments. Then he asked-- + +"Did you ever reveal this important information to anyone else?" + +"No. I did not. Only Jerrold would have understood its true gravity." + +"Then it concerned him--eh?" + +"No. It concerned somebody else. I was on my way to consult him--to +ask his opinion as to how I should act, when I found I could not get +into his room. His man helped me to break in, and we found him dying. +In fact, he spoke to me--he said he'd been shot--just before he +expired." + +"Yes, I know," remarked Tennant reflectively. "I happened to be present +in court when the inquest was held. I heard your evidence, and I also +heard the evidence of Sir Houston Bird, who testified as to suicide." + +"Jerrold did not take his life!" Jack protested. + +"Can you put your opinion before that of such a man as Sir Houston?" +asked Tennant dubiously. + +"He had no motive in committing suicide." + +"Ah! I think your opinion will rather alter, that is, if the +prosecution reveals to you the truth. He had, according to my +information, every motive for escape from exposure and punishment." + +"Impossible!" declared Jack Sainsbury, standing defiant and rather +amused than otherwise at the ridiculous charge brought against him. +"Dr Jerrold was not a man to shrink from his duty. He did his best to +combat the peril of the enemy alien, and if others had had the courage +to act as he did, we should not be faced with the scandalous situation-- +our enemies moving freely among us--that we have to-day." + +Inspector Tennant--typical of the slow-plodding of police officialdom, +and the careful attention to method of those who have risen from +"uniformed rank"--listened and smiled. + +Upon the warrant was a distinct charge against the young man before him, +and upon that charge he centred his hide-bound mind. It is always so +easy to convict a suspect by one's inner intuition. Had Jack Sainsbury +been able to glance at the file of papers which had culminated in his +conviction, he would have seen that only after Jerome Jerrold's death +had the charge of war-treason been brought against him. There was no +charge of espionage, because, according to the Hague Convention, nobody +can technically be charged as a spy unless the act of espionage is +committed within the war zone. England was not then--because Zeppelin +raids had not taken place--within the war zone. Hence nobody could be +charged as a spy. + +"Mr Sainsbury, I think there is nothing more to say to-night," Tennant +said at last. "It is growing late. I'll see that your message is sent +to Fitzjohn's Avenue by telephone. They will see you in the morning +regarding your defence. But--well, I confess that I'm sorry that you +should have said so much as you have." + +"So much!" cried the young man furiously. "Here I am, arrested upon a +false charge--accused of being a traitor to my country--and you regret +that I dare to defend a man who is in his grave and cannot answer for +himself! Are you an Englishman--or are you one of those tainted by the +Teuton trail--as so many are in high places?" + +"I think you are losing your temper," said the red-tape-tangled +inspector of the Special Branch--a man who held one of the plums of the +Scotland Yard service. "I have had an order, and I have executed it. +That is as far as I can go." + +"At my expense. You charge me with an offence which is utterly +ridiculous, and beyond that you cast scandalous reflections upon the +memory of the man who was my dearest friend!" + +"I only tell you what is reported." + +"By whom?" + +"I have already stated that I am not permitted to answer such a +question." + +"Then my enemies--some unknown and secret enemies--have placed me in +this invidious position!" + +"Well--if you like to put it in that way, you may," reflected the police +official, who, with a cold smile, closed the book upon the table, as a +sign that the interview was at an end. + +CHAPTER FIFTEEN. + +THE WORKING OF "NUMBER 70." + +Just as it was growing dusk on the following evening, a handsome +middle-aged woman, exquisitely dressed in the latest _mode_, and +carrying a big gold chain-purse, attached to which was a quantity of +jangling paraphernalia in the shape of cigarette-case, puff-box, and +other articles, was lolling in, a big armchair in Lewin Rodwell's little +study in Bruton Street. + +From her easy attitude, and the fact that she had taken off her fur coat +and was in the full enjoyment of a cigarette with her well-shod feet +upon the fender, it was quite apparent that she was no stranger there. + +"It certainly was the only thing to be done in the circumstances, I +quite agree," she was saying to Rodwell, who was seated opposite her, on +the other side of the fire. + +"How did he look at Bow Street this, morning? Tell me!" Rodwell asked +her eagerly. + +"Pale and worried," was the woman's reply. "The case was heard in the +extradition court, and there were very few people there. The girl was +there, of course. A young barrister named Charles Pelham appeared for +him, and reserved his defence. The whole proceedings did not occupy +five minutes--just the evidence of arrest, and then the magistrate +remanded him for a week." + +"So I heard over the 'phone." + +"I thought perhaps you would be called," the woman remarked. + +"My dear Molly," laughed the man grimly, "I'm not going to be called as +witness. I've taken very good care of that! I haven't any desire to go +into the box, I can assure you." + +"I suppose not," laughed the woman. "The prisoner must never know that +you've had a hand in the affair." + +She was a well-built, striking-looking woman, with a pair of fine dark +eyes sparkling from beneath a black hat, the daring shape of which was +most becoming to her. Upon her white hand jewels gleamed in the fitful +firelight, for the lights were not switched on, and in her low-cut +blouse of cream crepe-de-chine she wore a small circle of diamonds as a +brooch. + +"It's a good job for us all that you've closed the young man's mouth +just in time," she declared. "He knew something, that is evident." + +"And he kept it to himself, intending one day to launch it as a +thunderbolt," Rodwell remarked. "But you've been infernally clever over +the affair, Molly. Without you, I don't know what I should have done in +this case. There was a distinct danger." + +"It wasn't very difficult, after all," his companion replied. "Money +does wonders--especially the good money of Germany. Here in England +`Number Seventy' happily has much good money, and has a `good press.'" + +"Yes," laughed Rodwell. "And yet the fools here think they will win!" + +"My dear Lewin, they would win if they were not so hopelessly +egotistical, and if we had not long foreseen the coming conflict and +Germanised the British political and official life as our first +precaution. In consequence, our victory is assured. Already this +country is in the grip of our German financiers, our pro-German +politicians, labour-leaders, and officials of every class. Our good +German money has not been ill-spent, I can assure you!" she laughed. + +"I quite agree. But tell me how you really managed to engineer that +evidence," he asked, much interested. + +"Well, after you had given me the correspondence four days ago, I took a +taxi and went down to the City to see my old friend George +Charlesworth," was her reply. "He and I used to be quite old chums a +year ago, when, as you know, he fell into the trap over that other +little matter, and became so useful, though he still remains in entire +ignorance." + +"Ah! of course, you know the arrangements of the office. I quite forgot +that." + +"Yes. I arrived about five o'clock, just as the old boy was leaving, +and sat in his room while he finished signing his letters. Already most +of the clerks had gone. When he had finished, and all the staff had +left, I lit up a cigarette and begged to be allowed to finish it before +we went out, I having suggested that he should take me to dinner that +night at the Carlton. Suddenly I pretended to grow faint, and asked him +to get me some brandy. In alarm the dear old fellow jumped up quickly, +and ran out to an hotel for some, leaving me in the office alone. Then, +when he'd gone, it didn't take me long to hurry out into the clerks' +office and put the papers in between the leaves of that big green ledger +which I found in the desk at which young Sainsbury had worked--just as +you had described where it would be found." + +"Excellent! You are always very 'cute, Molly," he laughed. "I suppose +you quickly recovered when Charlesworth got back with the brandy--eh?" + +"Well, I didn't recover too quickly, or the old bird might have grown +suspicious," was her reply. + +Mariechen Pagenkoff, known as Mrs Molly Kirby, was a native of Coblenz, +but had been educated in England, and had lived here the greater part of +her life until she had lost all trace of her foreign birth. Her husband +had been a German shipping-agent in Glasgow, and at the same time a +secret agent of the Koeniger-gratzerstrasse. But he had died two years +before, leaving her a widow. Her profession of spy had brought her into +contact with Lewin Rodwell, and ever since the outbreak of war the pair +had acted in conjunction with each other in collecting and transmitting +information through the various secret channels open between London and +Berlin, and in carrying out many coups of espionage. Mrs Kirby lived +very comfortably--as the widow of a rather wealthy shipping-agent might +live--in a pretty flat in Cadogan Gardens, and to those around her she +was believed to be, like Lewin Rodwell, most patriotic and charitable. +Indeed, she had done much voluntary work for the charitable funds, and +had interested herself in the relief of Belgian refugees, and in the +work of the Red Cross. + +"The day after you had been to the office," Rodwell explained, "I went +down there upon one or two matters which required attention, and, after +a couple of hours, I told Charlesworth that I wanted to glance at a +certain ledger to verify a query. The book was brought, and as I +carelessly searched through it in Charlesworth's presence, I discovered +some documents. We opened them, when, to our great surprise, we found +letters in German, there being enclosed in one a ten-pound note." + +"What did old Charlesworth say?" asked Mrs Kirby, with a smile upon her +red lips. + +"Well, as he can read German, I allowed him to digest the letters. The +old man was dumbfounded, and exclaimed: `Why, young Sainsbury kept this +book! Look at this letter! It's addressed to "Dear Jack"! Is it +possible, do you think, that Sainsbury was a German spy?'" + +"What did you say?" + +"I expressed the gravest surprise and concern, of course, and suggested +that he, as manager, should take the documents to Scotland Yard and make +a statement as to how they had been discovered. He wanted me to go with +him, but I declined, saying that in my position I had no desire to be +mixed up with any such unpleasant affair, and that he, as +managing-director of the Ochrida Corporation, was the proper person to +lodge information. The old fellow grew quite excited over it. He had +several of the clerks up, and from them ascertained that the ledger in +question had not been used since Sainsbury left. This, in conjunction +with the fact that one of the letters was addressed to `Jack,' and in it +a mention of meeting at Heath Street, proved most conclusively that the +incriminating documents belonged to Sainsbury. Therefore, an hour +later, after I had instructed Charlesworth what to tell them at Scotland +Yard, I had the satisfaction of seeing him enter a taxi with the +documents in his pocket. I continued to do some work in the office +when, later on, as I expected, he returned with a detective who +inspected the book, the desk in which it was kept, and who listened to +the story of young Sainsbury's career." + +"And I suppose you gave the young man a very good character--eh?" asked +the woman who had led such an adventurous life. + +"Oh, excellent!" was Rodwell's grim reply. "The officer went away quite +convinced that Sainsbury was a spy." + +"Though you gave me the letters, I quite forgot to read them," said the +woman. "Of what character were they? Pretty damning, I suppose?" + +"Damning--I should rather think they were!" answered the man who posed +as the great British patriot, and hid his real profession beneath the +cloak of finance and platform-speaking. "Two of them were letters which +our friend Wentzel, at Aldershot, had received from the Insurance +Company at Amsterdam--you know the little institution I mean, in the +Kalverstraat. Wentzel is known as `Jack,' and in one of these he is +addressed as such. So it came in very useful. The letter enclosed a +Bank of England note for ten pounds." + +"The monthly payment of his little annuity--eh?" laughed the woman. "I +understand. I had a letter only this morning from the same Insurance +Company." + +"Well," laughed the man, "we all have dealings with the same office. I +have had many. The organisation there is perfect--not a soul in the +Censor's department suspects. Truly, one must admire such perfect +organisation as that established by `Number Seventy.'" + +"I do. My husband always declared the arrangements in Holland to be +perfect--and they are perfect, even to-day, while we are at war in +England--the great Ruler of the Seas, as she calls herself, has already +fallen from her height. Britannia's trident is broken; her rulers know, +and quite appreciate the fact. That is why they establish a censorship +in order to keep the truth regarding our submarines from what they term +the man-in-the-street. As soon as he knows the truth--if he ever will-- +then Heaven help Great Britain!" + +"Meanwhile we are all working towards one end, my dear Molly--victory +for our Fatherland!" + +"Certainly. We shall conquer. The great Russian steam-roller--as the +English journalists once called it--is already rusty at its joints. The +rust has eaten into it, and soon its engineers will fail to make it +move--except in its reverse-gear," and the woman laughed. "But tell +me," she added: "of what does the evidence against Sainsbury exactly +consist?" + +Lewin Rodwell reflected seriously for a few moments. Then he slowly +replied: + +"Well, there are several things--things which he will have great +difficulty in explaining away. I've taken good care of that. First, +there is the letter from the Dutch Insurance Company sending him a +ten-pound note. Secondly, there is a letter from a certain Carl +Stefansen, living at Waxholm, on the Baltic, not far from Stockholm, +asking for details regarding the movements of certain regiments of +Kitchener's Army, and thanking him for previous reports regarding the +camps at Watford, Bramshott and elsewhere. Thirdly, there is an +acknowledgment of a report sent to a lock-box address in Sayville, in +the United States, on the second of last month, and promising to send, +by next post, a remittance of five pounds in payment for it. A letter +from Halifax, Nova Scotia, also requests certain information as to +whether the line of forts from Guildford to Redhill--part of the +ring-defences of London--are yet occupied." + +"Forts? What do you mean?" + +"Those forts established years ago along the Surrey hills as part of the +scheme for the defence of the Metropolis, but never manned or equipped +with guns. They cost very many thousands to construct--but were never +fully equipped." + +"And they are still in existence?" + +"Certainly. And they could be occupied, and turned to valuable account, +at any moment." + +"A fact which I can see they fully appreciated at Whitehall, and which +will lend much colour to the charge against this inquisitive young +fellow--who--well--who knows just a little too much. Ah! my dear Lewin, +I never met a man quite like you. You can see through a brick wall." + +"No further than you can see, my dear Molly," laughed the crafty man. +"We were both of us trained in the same excellent school--that school +which is the eyes and ears of the great and invincible Imperial Army of +the Fatherland. Where would be that army, with our Kaiser at its head, +if it had no eyes and no ears? Every report we send to Berlin is noted; +every report, however small and vague, is one step towards our great +goal and final victory. The Allies may beat themselves against our +steel and concrete ring, but they will never win. We sit tight. Our +men sit in their comfortable dug-outs to wait--and to wait on until the +Allies beat themselves out in sheer exhaustion. Our great invincible +nation must win in this island, for one reason--because the German eagle +has already gripped in her talons the very official heart of Great +Britain herself. Our Kaiser Wilhelm is only William of Normandy over +again. In Berlin we hold no apprehensions. We know we must win. If +not to-day--well, we sit safe in our trenches in Flanders, or give the +gallant Russians a run just to exercise them--knowing well that victory +must be ours when we will it!" + +"Then, the correspondence found in Sainsbury's ledger is entirely +conclusive, you think?" asked his companion after a pause. + +"Absolutely. There is no question. The letter shows him guilty of +espionage." + +"They were actual letters, then?" + +"Certainly. One of them was in an envelope addressed to him at the +office, and posted at Norwich. I managed to find that envelope in his +desk on the day before he was discharged. It came in extremely useful, +as I expected it might." + +"So the charge against him cannot fail?" asked the handsome woman, +puffing slowly at her cigarette. "Remember, he may suspect you--knowing +all that he does!" + +"Bah! The charge cannot fail. Of course I've had nothing to do with +the matter as far as the authorities are concerned. I have simply +slipped the noose over his head, and shall let the Intelligence +Department do the rest. They will do their work well--never fear." + +"But you told the Intelligence Department about that Dr Jerrold?" + +"Boyle did. I was most careful to keep out of it," replied Rodwell, +with a cunning look. "Boyle happens to be a friend of Heaton-Smith, who +is in the Intelligence Department, and to him he gave information which +cast a very deep suspicion that while Jerrold was pretending to hunt out +spies, he was also engaged in collecting information. Indeed, we sent +our friend Klost to consult him as a patient in order to further colour +the idea that, in the doctor's consulting-room, he was receiving German +spies. Heaton-Smith, who has a perfect mania regarding espionage, took +it up at once, and had Jerome watched, while we on our part, +manufactured just a little thread of evidence, as we have done in the +present case. By it we succeeded in a warrant being issued for his +arrest. It would have been executed that night if--well, if he had not +committed suicide." + +"Perhaps he knew a warrant was out against him?" + +"I think he did," said Rodwell, with an evil smile. + +"What causes you to think so?" + +"Well, by the fact that Boyle, to whom he was unknown, rang him up that +evening at half-past seven and, posing as an anonymous friend, warned +him that there was a warrant out for him and that, as a friend, he gave +him an opportunity to escape." + +"What did he reply to Sir Boyle?" + +"He hardly replied anything, except to thank the speaker for his timely +information, and to ask who it was who spoke. Boyle pretended to be a +certain Mr Long, speaking from the National Liberal Club, and added, +`If you wish to write to me, my name is J.S. Long.' The doctor said he +would write, but could not understand the charge against him. Boyle +replied that it was one of war-treason, and added that the authorities +had got hold of some documents or other which incriminated him on a +charge of spying." + +"What did he say?" + +"Well, he declared that it was an infernal lie, of course," laughed +Rodwell. + +The woman was again silent for a few moments. + +"Its truth was plainly shown by his suicide," she remarked at last. "By +Jove, my dear Lewin, his death was most fortunate for you--wasn't it?" + +"Yes. We had to play a trump card then--just as we now have to play +another against young Sainsbury," replied the man, his eyes narrowing. + +"I must congratulate you both," said Mrs Kirby. "You've played your +cards well--if you're certain that he'll be convicted." + +"My dear Molly, they can't help convicting him. The acknowledgment and +payment for reports, the request for more information, and the vague +references to certain matters in which our friends in Holland are so +keenly interested, all are there--addressed to him. Besides, he is +known to have been an intimate friend and assistant of the man Jerrold-- +the man who committed suicide rather than face arrest and trial for +treason. No," Rodwell added confidently; "the whole affair is quite +plain, and conviction must most certainly follow." + +"And serve him well right!" added the handsome woman. "Serve him right +for being too inquisitive. But," she added in a rather apprehensive +voice, "I suppose there's no chance of him making any allegations +against you--is there?" + +"What do I care if he did!" asked the man, with a laugh of defiance. +Then, lowering his voice, he added: "First, there is no evidence +whatsoever to connect me with any matters of espionage, and secondly, +nobody would believe a word he said. The world would never credit that +Lewin Rodwell was a spy!" + +"No," she laughed; "you are far too clever and cunning for them all. +Really your _sang-froid_ is truly marvellous." + +CHAPTER SIXTEEN. + +THE CATSPAW. + +Some weeks had passed. + +Jack Sainsbury had not reappeared at Bow Street, the authorities having +decided, so serious was the charge and so important the evidence, that +the trial should take place by court-martial and _in camera_. + +Therefore the prisoner spent day after day in his narrow cell at Brixton +Prison, full of fierce, angry resentment at the false charge made +against him, and full of anxiety as to how Elise was bearing up beneath +the tragic blow which had fallen upon them both. + +He saw no one save Charles Pelham, his counsel, who now and then visited +him. But even his adviser was entirely in the dark as to the exact +evidence against his client. In the meantime the truth was that the +Intelligence Department at Whitehall had sent an agent over to Holland +to inquire into the _bona fides_ of the Insurance Company whose offices +were supposed to be in the Kalverstraat, in Amsterdam, and had +discovered that though the "office" was run by highly respectable +persons, the latter were undoubtedly Germans who had come to Holland +just before the war. Every inquiry made by the Department revealed +further proof of the accused's guilt. Indeed, the astute Colonel who +was the titular head of the Department had had Mr Charlesworth up at +the War Office and thanked him personally for exposing what he had +declared to be "a most serious case of espionage." + +Truly the fetters were gradually being forged upon the innocent young +fellow languishing within Brixton Prison. + +In complete ignorance of either the exact charge, or the identity of +those who made it, Jack lived on day by day, full of the gravest +apprehensions. The whole affair seemed to be one great, hideous +nightmare. What would old Dan Shearman, never very well disposed +towards him, think of him now? He recollected that strange anonymous +letter which Elise had received. Who could possibly have sent it? A +friend, without a doubt. Yet who was that secret friend? When would +his identity be revealed? + +He wondered if the person who had written that warning to his +well-beloved would, when he knew of his arrest, come forward and expose +the dastardly plot against him? Would he rescue him, now that he was in +deadly peril? + +With chagrin, too, he remembered how he had treated Elise's fears with +such silly unconcern. He had never dreamed of the real gravity of the +situation until he found himself in the hands of the police, with that +scandalous and disgraceful charge hanging over his head. The whole +thing was so amazing, and so utterly bewildering, that at times he felt, +as he paced that narrow, dispiriting cell, that he must go mad. + +The days dragged on, each longer than its predecessor. Once his sister +was allowed to see him. But he was anxious and eager to face his +judges, to hear what false evidence the prosecution had to offer, and to +refute the foul lies that had evidently been uttered against him. The +authorities, however, seemed in no hurry to act, and it almost seemed +as though they had forgotten all about him. + +One day he received a letter--the one welcome gleam of hope--a letter +from Elise, who told him to bear up, to take courage, and to look +forward to an early freedom. + +"You surely know, Jack," she wrote, "that I do not believe you to be a +spy. Surely I know how strenuously you have worked in order to ferret +out and expose the horde of spies surrounding us, and how you constantly +helped poor Dr Jerrold." + +Those words of hers cheered him, yet he deeply regretted that she should +have referred to the dead man's name. The prison authorities had read +that letter, and mention of Jerrold would, in the circumstances, +probably be registered as a point against him. + +The weeks thus lengthened, until the middle of February. + +On the night of the 21st of that month--the night on which the Admiralty +issued its notification that a British fleet of battleships and battle +cruisers, accompanied by flotillas, and aided by a strong French +squadron, the whole under the command of Vice-Admiral Carden, had begun +the attack on the forts of the Dardanelles--Charles Trustram dined early +with Lewin Rodwell at the Ritz. + +Rodwell was due to speak at a big recruiting meeting down at Poplar, and +after their meal the pair drove in his car eastwards to the meeting, +where he was received with the wildest enthusiasm. + +A well-known retired Admiral was in the chair--a man whose name was as a +household word, and whose reputation was that of one who always hit +straight from the shoulder with the courage of his own convictions. The +hall was crowded. The speech by the chairman was a magnificent one, +well calculated to stir the blood of any Briton of military age to +avenge Germany's piracy "blockade." He spoke of the low cunning of the +"scrap-of-paper incident," of the introduction of the red phosphorus +poison-shells a month before, and the terrible barbarities committed in +Belgium. That East-End audience were held spellbound by the fine +patriotic speech of the grey-haired Admiral, who had spent his whole +life at sea ever since he had left the _Britannia_ as a midshipman. + +Trustram, seated near the front, saw Lewin Rodwell rise deliberately +from his chair on the platform, and became electrified by his words-- +fiery words which showed how deep was the splendid patriotic spirit +within his heart. + +On rising he was met with a veritable thunder of applause from that huge +expectant working-class audience. They knew that Lewin Rodwell, being +in the confidence of the Cabinet, would tell them something real and +conclusive about the secret war-facts which the hundred-and-one +irresponsible censors, in their infinite wisdom, forbade the +long-suffering press to publish. Lewin Rodwell always regaled them with +some tit-bits of "inside information." It had been advertised up and +down the country that he was on golfing terms with the rulers of Great +Britain, and the words of a man possessing such knowledge of +state-secrets were always worth listening to. + +Glibly, and with that curious, half-amused expression which always +fascinated an audience, Lewin Rodwell began by jeering at those who +"slacked." + +"I ask you--every man of military age present," he cried, thrusting +forth his clenched fist towards his audience--"I ask you all to get, at +any post office, that little pink-covered pamphlet called `The Truth +about German Atrocities.' You can get it for nothing--just for asking +for it. Take it home and read it for yourselves--read how those +devilish hordes of the Kaiser invaded poor little law-abiding Belgium, +and what they did when they got there. Murder, rape, arson and pillage +began from the first moment when the German army crossed the frontier. +Soldiers had their eyes gouged out, men were murdered treacherously and +given poisoned food. Those fiends in grey killed civilians upon a scale +without any parallel in modern warfare between civilised Powers. We +know now that this killing of civilians was deliberately planned by the +higher military authorities in Berlin, and carried out methodically. +They are a nation of murderers and fire-bugs. A calculated policy of +cruelty was displayed that was without parallel in all history. Women +were outraged, murdered and mutilated in unspeakable fashion; poor +little children were murdered, bayoneted or maimed; the aged, crippled +and infirm were treated with a brutality that was appalling; wounded +soldiers and prisoners were tortured and afterwards murdered; innocent +civilians, women and children of tender age, were placed before the +German troops to act as living screens for the inhuman monsters, while +there was looting, burning and destruction of property everywhere. +Read, I say, that official report for yourselves!" he shouted, with +anger burning his eyes, for he was indeed a wonderful actor. + +"Read!" he cried again. "Read, all of you, how seven hundred innocent +men, women and children were shot in cold blood in the picturesque +little town of Dinant, on the Meuse; read of the massacres and +mutilations at Louvain, Tamines, Termonde and Malines--and then reflect! +Think what would be the fate of your own women and children should the +German army land upon these shores! The Germans did not hate the +Belgians--they had no reason whatever to do so. But the hatred in +Germany against the British race to-day amounts to a religion, and if +ever the Germans come, depend upon it that the awful massacres in +Belgium will be repeated with tenfold vigour, until the streets of every +English town and village run red with the blood of your dearly-loved +ones. Young men!" he shouted, "I ask you whether you will still stand +by and see these awful outrages done, whether you will be content to +witness the mutilation and murder of those dearest to your hearts, or +whether, before it is too late, you will come forward, now, and at once, +and bear your manly share in the crushing out for ever of this ogre of +barbarism which has arisen as a terrible and imminent menace to Europe, +and to the thousand years of the building up of our civilisation." + +In conclusion he made a fervent, stirring appeal to his hearers--an +appeal in which sounded a true ring of heartfelt patriotism, and in +consequence of which many young men came forward and gave in their names +for enlistment. + +And Lewin Rodwell laughed within himself. + +A dozen men congratulated him upon his splendid speech, and as Charles +Trustram sat by his side, on their drive back to the West End, he could +not refrain from expressing admiration of the speech. + +"Ah!" laughed Rodwell. "I merely try to do my little bit when I can. +It is what we should all do in these black days. There is a big section +of the public that doesn't yet realise that we are at war; they must be +taught, and shown what invasion would really mean. The lesson of poor +stricken Belgium cannot be too vividly brought home to such idiots as we +have about us." + +As the car dashed past Aldgate, going west, Trustram caught sight of the +contents-bill of a late edition of one of the evening papers. In large +letters was the bold announcement, "Air Raids on Colchester, Braintree +and Coggeshall." + +"The Zeppelins have been over again!" he remarked, telling Rodwell what +he had just read. + +"When?" + +"Last night, I suppose." + +"Didn't you know anything of it at the Admiralty?" asked Rodwell. + +"I heard nothing before I left this evening," Trustram replied. + +The pair smoked together for an hour in Rodwell's room in Bruton Street; +and during that time the conversation turned upon the arrest of Jack +Sainsbury, Trustram expressing surprise that he had not yet been brought +to trial. + +"I suppose the case against him is not yet complete," remarked Rodwell, +with a careless air. "A most unfortunate affair," he added. "He was a +clerk in the office of a company in which I have some interest." + +"So I hear. But I really can't think it's true that he's been guilty of +espionage," remarked the Admiralty official. "He was a great friend of +Jerrold's, you remember." + +"Well, I fear, if the truth were told, there was a charge of a similar +character against Jerrold." + +"What!" cried Trustram, starting forward in great surprise. "This is +the first I've heard of it!" + +"Of course I can't say quite positively--only that is what's rumoured," +Rodwell said. + +"But what kind of charge was there against Jerrold? I can't credit it. +Why, he did so much to unearth spies, and was of the greatest assistance +to the Intelligence Department. That I happen to know." + +"That is, I think, admitted," replied the man who led such a wonderful +life of duplicity. "It seems, however, that information which came into +the hands of the authorities was of such a grave character that a +warrant was issued against him for war-treason, and--" + +"A warrant!" cried Trustram. "Surely that's not true!" + +"Quite true," was Rodwell's cold reply. "On the evening of his death he +somehow learned the truth, and after you had left him that night he +apparently committed suicide." + +Trustram was silent and thoughtful for some time. The story had +astounded him. Yet, now he reflected, he recollected how, on that fatal +night, while they had been dining together, the doctor had spoken rather +gloomily upon the outlook, and had remarked that he believed that all +his patriotic efforts had been misunderstood by the red-taped +officialdom. In face of what his companion had just told him, it was +now revealed that Jerome Jerrold, even while they had been dining +together, had been contemplating putting an end to his life. He +recollected that envelope in his possession, that envelope in which the +man now dead had left something--some mysterious message, which was not +to be read until one year after his death. What could it be? Was it, +after all, a confession that he, the man so long unsuspected, had been +guilty of war-treason! + +The doctor's rather strange attitude, and the fierce tirade he had +uttered against the Intelligence Department for their lack of initiative +and their old-fashioned methods, he had, at the time, put down to +irritability consequent upon over-work and the strain of the war, but, +in face of what he had now learnt, he was quite able to understand it. +It was the key to the tragedy. No doubt that letter left for Jack +Sainsbury contained some confession. Curious that suspicion had now +also fallen upon Sainsbury, who had so often assisted him in watching +night-signals over the hills in the southern counties, and in making +inquiries regarding mysterious individuals suspected of espionage. + +"Well," he said at last, "you've utterly astounded me. Where did you +hear this rumour?" + +"My friend Sir Boyle Huntley is very intimate with a man in the War +Office--in the Intelligence Department in fact--and it came from him. +So I think there's no doubt about it. A great pity, for Dr Jerrold was +a first-class man, and highly respected everywhere." + +"Yes. If true, it is most terrible. But so many idle and ill-natured +rumours get afloat nowadays--how, nobody can tell--that one doesn't know +what to believe, if the information does not come from an absolutely +reliable source." + +"What I've just told you does come from an absolutely reliable source," +Rodwell assured him. "And as regards young Sainsbury, letters which he +forgot and left behind him in his desk at the office are clear proof of +his dealings with the enemy. In one was enclosed a ten-pound note sent +as payment for information from somebody in Holland." + +"Is that really so? And he forgot it?" asked Trustram. + +"Well, I've had the letter and the banknote in my hand. Our +managing-director found the correspondence, and showed it to me before +he handed it over to Scotland Yard." + +"Well, I must say that I've never suspected either of them as traitors," +declared the Admiralty official. "I liked young Sainsbury very much. +He was a smart young fellow, I thought, and I know that Jerrold held him +in very high esteem." + +"Ah! my dear Trustram," remarked Rodwell, with a sigh, "nowadays, with +an avalanche of German gold doing its fell work in England, it is, alas! +difficult to trust anybody. And yet it is all the fault of the +Government, who seem afraid to offend Germany by interning our enemies. +If I had my way I'd put the whole lot of them under lock and key, +naturalised and unnaturalised alike. It is in that where the peril +arises, for, in my opinion, the naturalised Germans in high places are +suborning many of our men to become traitors and blackmailing them into +the bargain--alas! that I, an Englishman, should be compelled to express +such an opinion regarding my compatriots. Here you have two cases in +point where apparently honest, well-meaning and patriotic Englishmen are +branded as spies, with evidence--in one case certainly, that of +Sainsbury--sufficient to convict him." + +"When will his trial be? Have you heard?" + +"No. You will be better able to discover that. It will, of course, be +a secret court-martial." + +"In that case we shall never know either the nature of the charge--or of +his defence." + +"Exactly," replied Lewin Rodwell, with grim inward satisfaction. "We +shall only know the sentence." + +Charles Trustram drew heavily at the fine cigar his host had given him, +and sighed. The terrible charges of treason against his dead friend and +young Sainsbury were indeed astounding. Yet he, as an official, knew +full well that the Director of Intelligence did not take such steps as +had been taken without some very firm and sound basis for prosecution. +The Department generally erred upon the side of leniency, and always +gave the accused the benefit of the doubt. That there was to be a +court-martial was, indeed, a very significant fact. + +"I suppose you are sending out troops to the Dardanelles?" remarked +Lewin Rodwell carelessly, after a short silence. "I saw the +announcement in to-day's papers?" + +"Yes. It will be a far tougher proposition than we at first believed. +That's the general opinion at the Admiralty. We have three troop-ships +leaving Southampton to-morrow, and four are leaving Plymouth on Friday-- +all for Gallipoli." + +"Of course they'll have escorts," Rodwell remarked, making a mental note +of that most important information. + +"As far as Gibraltar." + +"Not farther? Aren't you afraid of German submarines?" + +"Not after they have passed the Straits. The drafts we are sending out +this week are the most important we have yet despatched. The American +liners _Ellenborough_ and _Desborough_ are also taking out troops to +Egypt to-morrow." + +"From Plymouth, I suppose?" + +"Yes. All the drafts for Egypt and Gallipoli are going via Plymouth in +future," was Trustram's innocent reply. + +Those few unguarded words might cost the British Empire several thousand +officers and men, yet it seemed as though Trustram never dreamed the +true character of the unscrupulous spy with whom he was seated, or the +fact that the woman Kirby--whom he had never seen--was seated in an +adjoining room, patiently awaiting his departure. + +What, indeed, would Charles Trustram have thought had he known the true +import of that vital information which he had imparted to his friend, +under the pledge of confidence. The bombardment of Scarborough, +Hartlepool and Whitby had been directly due to what he had divulged, +though he was in ignorance of the truth. More than once, however, he +had reflected upon it and wondered. + +Yet after all he had dismissed such suspicion as utterly absurd. To +suspect Lewin Rodwell of any dealings with the enemy was utterly +ridiculous. No finer nor truer Englishman had ever breathed. The very +thought of such a thing caused him to ridicule himself. + +He rose at half-past eleven, and, warmly shaking his friend's hand, +asked: + +"Will you dine with me to-morrow at the Club?" + +Rodwell hesitated; then, consulting his little pocket diary, replied-- + +"I'm awfully sorry, my dear fellow, but I am due to speak in Lincoln +to-morrow night. Any other night I'll be delighted." + +"Thursday next, then, at eight o'clock--eh?" + +"Good. It's an appointment," and he scribbled it down. + +Then Trustram strode out and, hailing a passing taxi, drove home to his +quiet rooms off Eaton Square. + +The moment he had gone Mrs Kirby, wearing a small, close-fitting hat +and blue serge walking-gown, quickly joined Rodwell in the hall. + +"I've learnt something of importance, Molly. I must get away down to +old Small's at once. _Gott strafe England_!" he added very seriously. + +"_Gott strafe England_!" the woman repeated after him in fervent +earnestness, as though it were a prayer. Then she asked in surprise, +"Going to-night? It's a long way. Why, you won't get there before +morning!" + +"I must be there as soon as possible. Our submarines can get some +troop-ships--if we are slick enough! Every moment's delay is of the +utmost importance," he exclaimed hurriedly. "Ring up Penney, will you, +and tell him to bring round the car at once. Then come into the +dining-room and have a snack with me before I go. But to what do I owe +a visit at this hour? Have you anything to report?" + +"Yes," she said. "I'll tell you when I've been on the 'phone," she +answered. "It's something urgent, and very important. I don't like the +look of things." + +CHAPTER SEVENTEEN. + +THE SUPER-SPY. + +Dawn was breaking, chill and stormy, over the grey North Sea. + +On the far, misty horizon showed four little puffs of black smoke at +regular intervals upon the sky-line--four British destroyers steaming on +patrol duty. + +Beyond, as Lewin Rodwell approached Tom Small's cottage, he also +distinguished two trawlers moving towards the left, off Sutton-on-Sea, +engaged in the perilous work of mine-sweeping. + +Rodwell, wearing a thick and somewhat shabby overcoat, and a golf-cap +pulled well down, had trudged across from those branch roads where +Penney had dropped him after his night run of nearly a hundred and sixty +miles. He was tired, yet he plodded forward through the mud, for the +little low-built old tarred cottage was at last in sight. + +"If we can get those troop-ships it will be a grand _coup_ for us. +Molly is quite right," he exclaimed to himself in German. "From +Norddeich they can wireless away to Pola, on the Adriatic, and the +Austrian submarines can go out to meet them in the Mediterranean-- +providing we have no undersea boats there just now." + +Old Tom Small was outside his door mending a net when Rodwell +approached. + +"Hulloa, Tom!" cried the visitor cheerily. "Didn't expect me--eh?" + +"No, sir," grinned the bronzed, wrinkle-faced old fellow in the tanned +smock--tanned in the same tub as his lines and nets. "This is unusual +for you to come 'ere at this 'our--isn't it?" + +"Yes. I've just come from London," he explained, as he entered the +little sitting-room, which smelt so strongly of stale fish and rank +tobacco. "Where's Ted?" + +"'E's gone along to Skegness to get me some tackle. 'E only started +'arf an 'our ago." + +"Well," asked Rodwell, throwing off his coat and cap, and flinging +himself upon the old wooden armchair. "Anything happened since I was +here last week?" + +"Not much--only that there Judd, the coastguard from Chapel Point, seems +to be always a passin' or comin' in to smoke--as though he suspects +summat." + +"Ah! you're getting nervy again, Tom, I see," laughed Rodwell. "What +the dickens can he suspect if he doesn't see me, and you and Ted are +both discreet and keep still tongues! Why, there's no more respectable +fisherman along the whole coast here than Tom Small," he added. + +"Well, sir," replied the old fellow, "I've tried to keep respectable +always, till now. And I wouldn't ha' done this dirty work--no, not for +a fortune, had I known what was intended." + +"No, I don't really suppose you would," remarked Rodwell with quiet +sarcasm. "But, having begun, you've got to go on--or else be shot, both +of you, as traitors to your country. Nevertheless, don't let's discuss +that: it serves no purpose. I must get to work. Is the line all in +order?" + +"Yes, sir," was the reply. "I tested just before six--as soon as I got +up. Mr Stendel is on duty on the other side. He asked Ted if we'd +seen you lately, and 'e told 'im you 'adn't been down this week." + +"Did he want to speak to me?" + +"Yes, sir. I think 'e did." + +Old Small did not know the Morse code, except the testing signals, but +young Ted had, before the war, been sent for a course to a wireless and +cable-school in Glasgow, on the pretext that he wanted to act as +wireless operator on board a Grimsby trawler. Therefore Ted always +transmitted and received messages. + +When they wanted to speak urgently from Wangeroog, the German operator +rang up Ted and informed him. Then Ted would walk into Huttoft, Alford, +Chapel St Leonard's, or one or other of the neighbouring villages where +there was a telegraph-office, and despatch a perfectly innocent-looking +message addressed to either the chauffeur Penney, or to Mrs Kirby, such +as "Received your letter--Small," "My daughter left yesterday--Small," +"Thanks, am writing--Ted," or "Will send fish to-morrow--T. Small." +The wording of the message did not matter in the least; as long as +Rodwell received the name "Tom," "Ted," or "Small," he knew that he was +wanted at the end of the secret cable. + +The gentleman from London passed into the stuffy little bedroom, drew +aside the old damask curtain and took off the top of the big tailors' +sewing-machine displaying the instruments beneath. Through the little +window the grey, dispiriting light grew brighter as the dawn spread. +The tide was out, and there was very little wind. The sea lay unusually +calm in the morning mist. In the air was a salt smell of seaweed, and +when he seated himself upon the old rush chair he could hear the low, +monotonous lapping of the waves up and down the beach. That February +morning was raw and chill upon the bleak, open coast of Lincolnshire, +and while old Tom bustled about to get "Muster Rodwell" a slice of +cooked bacon, the spy of the "All Highest of Germany" busied himself in +looking through the intricate-looking array of cable instruments, the +hidden batteries of which he had recharged a week ago, spending a whole +night there working in his shirt-sleeves and perspiring freely. + +Presently, settling himself down to his work, he touched the ebonite +tapping-key and in dot-and-dash he sent under the sea the letters +"M.X.Q.Q.," the German war-code for "Are you ready to receive message?" +Thrice he despatched the letters, and then awaited the answering click. + +There was no response. + +"Stendel is always so slow!" he growled to himself. Already the +appetising smell of frying bacon had greeted his nostrils. Old Tom's +daughter was away. Indeed, he kept her away as much as possible, as Mr +Rodwell had no desire to have women "poking their noses into things that +did not concern them"--as he once remarked. + +Thrice again did the man at the end of that unsuspected cable tap out +those four code-letters. + +At last, however, came the answering sound upon the receiver. + +"B.S.Q.--B.S.Q.," came up rapidly from the depths of the sea. "Who are +you?" Wangeroog was asking. + +"Rodwell is here," tapped out the spy. "Is Stendel there?" + +In a moment came the answer. + +"Yes. Stendel is speaking. I have a message for you." + +"Mine is most urgent. Please put me through at once to J.A.J.70." + +"Your signals are good. Cuxhaven is engaged with Copenhagen. Wait, and +I will put you through. While waiting will you take my message?" + +"S.S.," answered Rodwell, which meant, "All right. I understand." Then +he added "O.O.," by which the German operator on the island of Wangeroog +knew that he was to proceed. + +After a few seconds' pause the recorder began to click, and upon its +green receiving "tape" there came out the following: + + "J. Number 6834115. Berlin, February 21st, 1915. + + "_Ueber die zustaende_ 1828, 59361 _sind folgende Nachrichten_ 0083 + _joasckcumf_ 2122: 298511, 3826, 3278: 2564: 8392 _schmutzig_: 6111: + _sparsam: dannen: schiene_: 2568, _tbsxic zerreiben_. 3286 + _zeilverlust_." + +Slowly it came out accurately registered on the long green paper ribbon, +which, when it stopped, Rodwell tore off and carefully rolled up in +order to decipher it at his leisure by aid of his little cipher-book. + +Then, after a brief pause, he placed his fingers upon the key and, with +an expert touch, inquired if he were yet through to Number Seventy +Berlin? + +The answer came in the affirmative. + +A few moments later he tapped out the letters G.S.F.A.--the code +pass-word which automatically by the calendar was so often changed. He +received the answer G.L.G.S. Then, according to rule, he gave his own +registered number--that of "0740." Every spy of Germany is registered +by number in the department presided over by Dr Steinhauer. + +Fully five minutes elapsed before he received the permission to proceed. + +Then, finding himself in direct communication with the headquarters of +the Imperial Secret Service, that argus-eyed bureau known as "Number 70 +Berlin," he began his report with the usual preamble, as follows: + + "On Imperial War Service. Most Urgent. Naval. From 0740, to Berlin + 70. Transmitted Personally. February 22nd, 1915. + + "Source of information G.27, British Admiralty. American liners + _Ellenborough_ and _Desborough_ leave Plymouth to-day with drafts for + Alexandria. Four troop-ships also leave Plymouth for Dardanelles on + Friday next, and three leave Southampton to-day. Names of latter are + _Cardigan_, _Lamberhead_, and _Turleigh_. All are escorted to + Gibraltar, but not farther. In future all drafts for Mediterranean + ports embark at Plymouth. Suggest Pola be informed by wireless, if + none of our submarines are in Mediterranean. Are there any? Await + reply. Burchardt Number 6503 left for Amsterdam with important + information last night. Grossman 3684 was arrested in Hartlepool + yesterday. Nothing found upon him. Will probably be released. + Expecting visit of B--shortly. Tell him to call in secret upon 0740 + in London. End of message." + +Then he sat back and waited for the reply to his inquiry regarding the +submarines of the Fatherland. He knew that even at that early hour the +great bureau in the Koeniger-gratzerstrasse, the eyes and ears of the +German nation, was all agog, and that one of the sub-directors would +certainly be on duty. They never failed to answer any question put to +them. + +Old Small entered with the news that the bacon was ready, therefore he +ordered it to be brought in, and as he sat at the table of the old +sewing-machine awaiting the response, he ate the homely breakfast with a +distinct relish. He did not notice the look of hatred in old Small's +eyes. + +Suddenly Stendel, on Wangeroog, asked if he had finished with Berlin, to +which message he answered that he was waiting for a reply. + +"I have another message," Stendel tapped out. "Will you take it?--very +short." + +"G.G.F.," replied Rodwell, which in the war-code meant "Am ready to +receive message." + +Then came the following from beneath the cold waters which divided the +two nations at war, a combination of German words and the numerical +code-- + + "J.S.F.: 26378: _Mowe_: (sea-gull) J.S.J.J: _schimpflich_ (infamous) + Ozstc: 32; _Schandfleck_ (blot) _tollkuhn_ (foolhardy)." + +And it was followed by the affix of the sender, "10,111, and the word +_zerren_" (pull). + +Again Rodwell tore off the piece of pale green "tape" and placed it +carefully in his pocket, in order to decode it later on. + +Then he leisurely finished his bacon and declared to Tom that he felt +the better for it. + +"I 'ear as 'ow the pay-pers are a sayin' that the German submarines are +a torpedoin' our ships 'olesale, sir," remarked old Tom, when the +recorder was silent again. "It's a great shame, surely. That ain't +war--to kill women an' children on board ship. Why, the most brutal of +all foreigners in the world would go out and rescue women an' children +from a sinkin' ship!" + +"It's war, my dear man--war?" replied Rodwell. "You people, living on +the shores of England, don't yet know what war means. It means that, at +all hazards and at all costs, you must vanquish your enemy. No +kid-glove or polite speeches. The silly peace ideas of humanity, and +all that rubbish, don't count nowadays. The German super-man does not +understand such silly manoeuvres when he is out to vanquish his enemy. +Why, you and your daughter and Ted would be far better off under our own +Kaiser than you are to-day, with all this shuttlecock policy of your +out-of-date rule-of-thumb Government, and your strangulating taxation +consequent upon it. Your English sovereign is only worth fifteen +shillings to-day." + +"Yes, but I don't understand how it is that you German people have put +us under your thumbs, as you have done." + +"Merely because you British people are trustful fools," laughed Rodwell +merrily. "You never listened to Lord Roberts, a great soldier and +strategist greater than any we have to-day in Germany. You all laughed +at his warnings. And now you'll have to laugh on the other side of your +mouths. That's the real, plain, brutal truth of it all. You can't +conceal it. If you English had taken the advice of your popular hero +`Bobs,' there would have been no war to-day. You would have been far +too strong for our Fatherland." + +"But why should we sacrifice our lives any further?" asked the toiler of +the sea. "I'm sick and tired of the whole affair, as I said to Ted only +this morning." + +"I quite appreciate that," was Rodwell's reply. "But--" + +A click sounded upon the instrument, and Rodwell, breaking off, bent +eagerly to read the tape. + +The words, in German, which came out upon it were: "Reply to 0740. +Eight undersea boats are in Mediterranean. Message will be sent by +wireless to Trieste and Pola for re-transmission. Any report from 6839? +Await reply." + +Rodwell hesitated. The number quoted was that of his friend Mrs Kirby. + +In a few moments he tapped out the reply. + +"Number 6839 is in close touch with Minister, as reported by me a week +ago. She will make cable report as soon as accurate information can be +obtained. Our activity on the Clyde is progressing. The engineers are +out and other branches of labour are threatening to strike. Unrest also +in South Wales. Good work in progress there." + +Then, for some minutes, the instruments were silent, and he watched the +receiver intently. + +At last it again clicked, and the green tape once more began to unwind. + + "To 0740.--From O. Meiszner--Headquarters Imperial Intelligence + Staff. Order 0213 to do utmost possible with Clyde workers. + Information will reach him from Holland by Route Number 6 regarding + South Wales and dockers. Report all movements of troops to + Dardanelles, also movements from Aldershot to Flanders. Nothing from + 0802 at Portsmouth. Please inquire reason and reply: urgent. Are you + on good terms with G.27 British Admiralty? Reply." + +The number "G.27" meant Charles Trustram, for as such he had been +reported by Rodwell, and duly registered in the _dossiers_ of the great +spy-bureau in Berlin. + +"Yes. On excellent terms with G.27. But he is not yet indebted to us," +he replied, swiftly tapping the instrument. + +"He should be. Please see to it. His information is always good, and +may be as extremely useful as that regarding the plot to entrap our +Navy. I am sending Number 0324 to you as an American citizen. He bears +urgent instructions, and is travelling via New York, and due in +Liverpool about March 10th. He will report personally on arrival in +London. End of message." + +"SS." were the letters tapped out--three dots, succeeded by three more +dots--and by it Dr Otto Meiszner, seated at the headquarters of German +espionage in Berlin, knew that his friend had received and understood +what he had transmitted from the heart of the Fatherland. + +Rodwell, having replaced the cover over the instruments, lay back for a +moment to think. + +He knew that ere long the unseen rays of wireless would flash in code +the news from Hanover away across Europe, to the Austrian station at +Pola, on the Adriatic, reporting the departure of those troop-ships, +which, after passing through the Straits of Gibraltar, would be at the +mercy of the German submarines lurking in readiness in the +Mediterranean. + +Upon his hard mouth was an evil grin, as he rose, pushed the old chair +aside and, striding into the adjoining room, joined the weatherbeaten +old fisherman--the man who was held so dumb and powerless in the +far-reaching tentacles of that terrible Teuton octopus, that was slowly, +but surely, strangling all civilisation. + +CHAPTER EIGHTEEN. + +TOM SMALL RECEIVES VISITORS. + +The super-spy, having concluded his work, sat with the old fisherman +beside the wood-fire in the little low-pitched living-room that smelt so +strongly of fish and tar. + +Old Tom Small presented a picturesque figure in his long sea-boots, on +which the salt stood in grey crystals, and his tanned blouse; for, only +an hour ago, he had helped Ted to haul up the boat in which, on the +previous night, they had been out baiting their crab-pots. Ruddy and +cheery-looking, his grey hair was scanty on top, and his knotty hands, +hardened by the sea, were brown and hairy. He was a fine specimen of +the North Sea fishermen, and, being one of "nature's gentlemen," he was +always polite to his visitor, though at heart he entertained the deepest +and undying contempt for the man by whose craft and cunning the enemy +were being kept informed of the movements of Britain's defensive forces, +both on land and at sea. + +Now that it was too late, he had at last awakened to the subtle manner +in which he had been inveigled into the net so cleverly-spread to catch +both his son and himself. Ted, his son, had been sent to the +cable-school at Glasgow and there instructed, while, at the same time, +he and his father had fallen into the moneylender's spider-web, +stretched purposely to entrap him. + +What could the old fellow do to extricate himself? He and Ted often, in +the evening hours, before their fire, while the storm howled and tore +about that lonely cottage on the beach, had discussed the situation. +They had both, in their half-hearted way, sought to discover a means out +of the _impasse_. Yet with the threat of Rodwell--that they would both +be prosecuted and shot as traitors--hanging over them, the result of +their deliberation was always the same. They were compelled to remain +silent, and to suffer. + +They cursed their visitor who came there so constantly and sent his +mysterious messages under the sea. Yet they were compelled to accept +the ten pounds a week which he paid them so regularly, with a frequent +extra sovereign to the younger man. Both father and son hesitated about +taking the tainted money. Yet they dared not raise a word of protest. +Besides, in the event of an invasion by Germany, had not Rodwell +promised that they should be protected, and receive ample reward for +their services? + +Old Small and Rodwell were talking, the latter stretching forth his +white hands towards the welcome warmth of the flaming logs. + +"You must continue to still keep your daughter Mary away from here, +Tom," the visitor was saying. "Send her anywhere you like. But I don't +want her prying about here just now. You understand! You've got a +married daughter at Bristol, haven't you?" + +"Yes, sir." + +"Well, send her down there for a long stay. I'll pay all expenses. So +book the whole of it down to me. Here's twenty pounds to go on with;" +and, taking his banknote case from his pocket, he drew forth four +five-pound notes. + +"Yes, sir; but she may think it funny--and--" + +"Funny!" cried his visitor. "Remember that you're paid to see that she +doesn't think it funny. Have her back here, say next Tuesday, for a +couple of days, and then send her off on a visit down to Bristol. You +and Ted are able to rub along together very well without her." + +"Well--we feels the miss o' the girl," replied the old fellow, who, +though honest and loyal, had fallen hopelessly into the trap which +German double-dealing had prepared for him. + +"Of course you do. I should--were I in your place," was Rodwell's +response. "But the confidential business in which you and I are engaged +just now is not one in which a woman has any concern. She's out of +place here; and, moreover, few women can keep a still tongue. Just +reflect a moment. Suppose she told some friend of hers what was in +progress under your roof? Well, the police would soon be out here to +investigate, and you'd both find yourselves under arrest. No," he +added. "Keep your girl away from here--keep her away at all costs. +That's my advice." + +"Very well, sir, I will," replied the wrinkled old fellow, rubbing the +knees of his stained trousers with his hands, and drawing at his rather +foul pipe. "I quite see your point. I'll get the girl away to Bristol +this week." + +"Oh! and there's another thing. I'd better remain in here all day +to-day, for I don't want to be seen wandering about by anybody. They +might suspect something. So if anyone happens to come in, mind they +have no suspicion of my being here." + +"All right, sir. Leave that to me." + +"To-night, about ten or eleven, I'm expecting a lady down from London. +She's bringing me some important news. So you'd better get something or +other for her to eat." + +"A bit o' nice fish, perhaps?" the old fellow suggested as a luxury. + +"Well--something that she can eat, you know." + +"I'll boil two or three nice fresh crabs. The lady may like 'em, if I +dress 'em nice." + +"Excellent!" laughed Rodwell. Truly his was a strange life. One day he +ate a perfectly-cooked dinner in Bruton Street, and the next he enjoyed +fat bacon cooked by a fisherman in his cottage. + +Old Tom, glancing through the window out upon the grey, misty sea, +remarked: + +"Hulloa! There's that patrol a-comin' back. For two days they've been +up and down from the Spurn to the Wash. Old Fred Turner, on the +_Seamew_, what's a minesweeper nowadays, hailed me last night when we +were baitin' our pots. He got three mines yesterday. Those devils have +sown death haphazard!" + +"Devils!" echoed Rodwell, in a reproachful tone. "The Germans are only +devils because we are out to win." + +"I'm sorry, sir," exclaimed the old fellow, biting his lip. "I didn't +think when I spoke." + +"But, Tom, you should never speak before you think. It lands you into +trouble always," his visitor said severely. + +"Yes, I--But--I say--look!" cried the old man, starting forward, and +craning his neck towards the window. "Why, if there ain't that there +Judd, the coastguard petty-officer from Chapel Point again! An' he's +a-comin' across 'ere too." + +"I'll get into the bedroom," whispered Rodwell, rising instantly, and +bending as he passed the window, so as not to be seen. "Get rid of +him--get rid of him as soon as ever you can." + +"'E's got a gentleman with him," old Tom added. + +"Don't breathe a word that I'm here," urged the spy, and then, slipping +into the stuffy little bedroom, he closed the door and turned the key. +Afterwards he stood listening eagerly for the arrival of the visitors. + +In a few moments there was a loud knocking on the tarred door, and, with +a grunt, Tom rose to open it. + +"Hulloa, Tom!" cried the petty-officer of the coastguard cheerily. +"'Morning! How are you?" + +"Oh! pretty nicely, Muster Judd--if it warn't for my confounded +rheumatics. An' now, to cap it all, I've got my girl laid up 'ere very +bad. She only got 'ome last night." + +"Oh!" exclaimed Mr Judd. "But I thought you had a gentleman visitor +this morning?" + +"Gentleman visitor? Yes. I've 'ad the doctor to my girl--a visitor +I've got to pay--if that's what you mean. She's been awful bad all +night, an' Ted's now gone into Skegness for some med'cine for 'er." + +The man who accompanied the coastguard-officer remarked: + +"This is a lonely house of yours, Mr Small. A long way from the +doctor--eh?" + +"It is, sir, an' no mistake. We don't see many people out 'ere, except +Mr Judd, or Mr Bennett--or one o' the men on patrol." + +Then, being compelled to ask the pair inside, for it had started to rain +heavily, Tom Small sat with them chatting, yet full of wonder why they +had called at that early hour. + +The man in the next room stood breathless behind the door, listening to +all their conversation. It was quite plain that he had been seen to +enter there, whereupon the coastguard's suspicions had been aroused. He +scented considerable danger. Yet his adventurous spirit was such that +he smiled amusedly at old Small's story of his sick daughter, and of the +visit of the doctor. + +Judd, seated in the chair which Rodwell had occupied until he had +vacated it in alarm, suddenly turned to old Tom, and said: + +"This gentleman here is my superior officer, Tom, and he wants to ask +you something, I think." + +"Yes, sir, what is it?" asked the crafty old fisherman, turning to the +man in plain clothes. + +"You had a visitor here last Thursday--a gentleman. Who was he?" asked +the stranger suddenly. + +"Last Thursday," repeated Small reflectively. "Now let me see. Who +came 'ere last Thursday? Weren't we both out fishin'? No," he added: +"I know! Yes, we did 'ave someone come--Mr Jennings, of course." + +"And who is Mr Jennings?" + +"Why, 'e comes regularly from Lincoln for our insurances." + +The petty-officer exchanged meaning glances with his superior, who then +asked-- + +"Aren't you in the habit of receiving visits from a gentleman--somebody +who's been seen about here in a closed car, painted pale grey?" + +"No car 'as ever come 'ere, sir," declared the old man blankly. "Folk +in cars don't come to visit people like Tom Small." + +"And yet you are not quite so poorly off as you pretend to be, Mr +Small," remarked his questioner. "What about that nice little balance +you have in the bank--eh?" + +"Well, I've earned it, therefore I don't see why it should concern you," +protested the old fellow angrily. + +"Just now it does concern me," was the other's rather hard reply--words +to which the man in the inner room listened with breathless concern. + +Was it possible that the existence of the secret cable was suspected? +Had Tom, or his son, been indiscreet? No; he felt sure they had not. +They had everything to lose by disclosing anything. And yet those two +visitors were bent upon extracting some information from him. Of what +nature he was not quite clear. + +An awful thought occurred to him that he had left his cap in the +sitting-room, but, on glancing round, he was relieved to see that he had +carried it into the bedroom when he had sat down at the instruments. + +What would those two men say, if they only knew that, within a few yards +of them, was the end of a cable which ran direct to Berlin? + +While the rain continued pelting down for perhaps a quarter of an hour, +the pair sat chatting with Small. It was evident that the naval officer +was disappointed with the result of his visit, for the old fisherman +answered quite frankly, and had given explanation of his two visitors +which could not well be met with disbelief. + +"Are you gentlemen a-lookin' for German spies, then?" asked old Small at +last, as though sorely puzzled at the questions that had been put to +him. + +"We're always on the look out for those devil's spawn," answered Judd. +"There was a Dutch trawler off here last night, and she wasn't up to any +good--I'm sure of that." + +"Perhaps it's the same craft as wor 'ere about a fortnight back. She +flew the Dutch flag, but I believe she wor a waitin' for a German +submarine, in order to give 'er petrol. They were a talkin' about 'er +in the Anchor on Saturday night. Bill Chesney was out fishin' an' got +right near 'er. I think one o' the patrol boats ought to ha' boarded +'er." + +"She was seen off the Spurn, and was then flying the British flag," +remarked Judd's superior officer. + +"Ah! There you are!" cried Small. "I was certain she was up to no +good! Those Germans are up to every bit o' craft and cunnin'. Did you +gentlemen think that Mr Jennings, from Lincoln, was a German spy?" he +asked naively. + +"No, not particularly," replied his visitor. "Only when strangers come +along here, in the prohibited area, we naturally like to know who and +what they are." + +"Quite so, sir. An' if I see any stranger a-prowlin' about 'ere in +future, I won't fail to let Mr Judd know of 'im." + +"That's right, Small," was the officer's response. "There are lots of +rumours around the coast of our fishermen giving assistance to the enemy +by supplying them with petrol and other things, but, as far as I can +gather, such reports are disgraceful libels upon a very hardworking and +deserving class. We know that some of them put down tackle in Torbay, +and elsewhere, when they learn the fleet is coming in, so that they may +obtain compensation for damage caused to their nets. But as to their +loyalty, I don't think anyone can challenge that." + +"I 'ope not, sir," was Small's fervent reply. "There ain't a fisherman +along the whole coast o' Lincolnshire who wouldn't bear his part against +the enemy, if he could--an' bear it well, too." + +The clean-shaven officer reflected for a few moments. + +"You've never, to your recollection, seen a pale grey closed-up car +anywhere about here, have you?" he asked at last. + +"Never, sir." + +"Quite sure?" + +"Positive, sir. The roads about 'ere are not made for cars," was the +old fellow's reply. "I certainly did see a car one night, about six +weeks ago. The man had lost his way an' was driving straight down to +the sea. He wanted to get to Cleethorpes. They were Navy men from the +wireless station, I think." + +The old man's manner and speech had entirely disarmed suspicion, and +presently the pair rose, and bidding him good-bye, and urging him to +keep a sharp look-out for strangers, they left. + +The moment they were safely away, Rodwell emerged from the bedroom, and +in a low, apprehensive voice, asked: + +"What does all this mean, Tom--eh?" + +"Don't know, sir. That Judd's been about here constantly of late. 'E's +up to no good, I'm sure. I've told you, weeks ago, that I didn't like +the look o' things--an' I don't!" + +Rodwell saw that the old fellow was pale and alarmed. He had preserved +an impenetrable mask before his two visitors, but now they had gone he +was full of fear. + +Rodwell, as he stood in the low-pitched little room, recollected certain +misgivings which Molly had uttered on the previous night, just before he +had left Bruton Street. His first impulse now was to leave the house +and slip away across the fen. Yet if he did somebody must certainly see +him. + +"Shall you get off now, sir?" asked the old man suddenly. + +"Not till to-night," was the other's reply. "It would be a bit +dangerous, so I must lay doggo here till dusk, and then escape." + +"Do you think they really suspect us, sir?" asked the old fellow, in a +voice which betrayed his fear. + +"No. So don't alarm yourself in the least," replied the gentleman from +London. "I suppose I've been seen about, and my car has been noticed on +the roads. There's no danger, as long as I'm not seen again here for a +bit. I'll get through to Stendel, and let him know that I shan't be +back again for a fortnight or so." + +"Yes; you must certainly keep away from 'ere," Tom urged. "They'll be +a-watchin' of us, no doubt." + +"I've got a lady coming here, as I told you--Mrs Kirby, to whom you +telegraph sometimes. She won't get here till night, and I must wait for +her. She'll have some urgent information to send across to the other +side. Penney will meet her in Lincoln, where she'll arrive by train, +and he'll bring her on by car." + +"You'd better keep to the bedroom," urged the old man. "They might come +back later on." + +"Yes: I won't be seen," and returning to the stuffy little room, he +reopened the cable instruments and soon got into communication with +Stendel, in order to pass away the time which he knew must hang heavily +upon his hands, for even then it was not yet nine o'clock in the +morning. + +He sat smoking and gossiping with the old fisherman nearly all the day, +impatient for the coming of darkness, for his imprisonment there was +already becoming irksome. + +It grew dusk early when, about four o'clock, a footstep outside caused +them both to start and listen. In answer to the summons at the door Tom +went, and was handed a telegram by the boy messenger from Huttoft. + +Opening it, he found it had been despatched from London, and read: + +"Impossible to leave till to-morrow.--M." + +He gave it to Rodwell, who at once saw that the woman he expected had +been delayed. Probably she had not yet been able to gather that +important information which was wanted so urgently in Berlin. + +The telegram puzzled him. Was it possible that the arrangements which +he had made with such cunning and forethought, and had left to Molly to +carry out, had broken down after all? + +Lewin Rodwell bit his lip, and wondered. He seemed that day beset by +misfortune, for when at five o'clock, Ted having returned, he tested the +cable as usual, a call came through from Berlin. + +Rodwell answered it, whereupon "Number 70" flashed the following message +beneath the sea. + + "Your information of this morning regarding troop-ships leaving + Plymouth for Dardanelles is incorrect. _Desborough_ was torpedoed off + Canary Islands on January 18th, and _Ellenborough_ is in dry dock in + Belfast. Source of your report evidently unreliable." + +Rodwell read the words upon the long green tape as it slowly unwound, +and sat staring at them like a man in a dream. + +CHAPTER NINETEEN. + +DAYS OF DARKNESS. + +On the same afternoon that Lewin Rodwell was stretching himself, +impatient and somewhat nervous, in the lonely little house on the beach, +Elise Shearman, pale and apprehensive, was seated in Sir Houston Bird's +consulting-room in Cavendish Square. + +The spruce, young-looking pathologist, clean-shaven and grave, with hair +streaked with grey, was listening intently to the girl's words. It was +her second visit to him that day. In his waiting-room were half a dozen +persons who had come to consult him, but the blue-eyed young lady had +been ushered straight into the sanctum of the great Home Office expert. + +"Curious! Very curious!" he remarked as he listened to her. "That +anonymous letter you brought this morning I have already taken to +Whitehall. The whole affair seems a complete mystery, Miss Shearman. +No doubt the charge against young Sainsbury is a very serious one, but +that you should have been given warning is most strange. Since I saw +you this morning I've had a visit from Mr Trustram, whom I called up on +the 'phone, and we have had a long consultation." + +"What is your opinion?" she asked breathlessly. + +"Will you forgive me, Miss Shearman if, for the present, I refrain from +answering that question?" asked the great doctor, with a smile. He was +sitting at his table with one elbow resting upon it and half turned +towards her, as was his habit when diagnosing a case. The room was +small, old-fashioned, and depressingly sombre in the gloom of the wintry +afternoon. + +"But do you think Jack will ever clear himself of these horrible +charges?" she asked, pale and anxious. + +"I hope so. But at present I can give no definite opinion." + +"But if he can't, he'll go to penal servitude!" cried the girl. "Ah! +how I have suffered since his arrest! Father will hear no word in his +favour. He daily tells me that Jack is a spy of Germany, and as such +deserves full punishment." + +"Mr Trustram has found out from the War Office that his trial by +court-martial begins at the Old Bailey to-morrow." + +"Yes, I know. Mr Pelham, his counsel, called on me just after lunch, +and told me so," said the girl tearfully. "But oh! he seemed so +hopeless of the result. The prosecution, he said, would bring forward +the most damning evidence against him. Can it be true, Sir Houston? Do +you really think it is true?" + +"No, I don't," was the prompt, straightforward answer. "Nothing will +ever cause me to suspect Sainsbury to be guilty of espionage. He's far +too good an Englishman to accept German gold." + +"Then you believe him to be innocent!" cried the girl, her fair +countenance brightening with a ray of hope. + +"Yes, I do. He's the victim of some dastardly plot. That's my firm +belief. And yet it is so strange that his friend Jerrold committed +suicide." + +"But was Dr Jerrold a spy? That is the question!" + +"It seems quite true that a warrant had been issued for his arrest upon +a charge of war-treason," Sir Houston replied. "Why didn't he try and +face it?" + +The girl, pale and agitated, sat in silence, her gloved hands lying idly +on her lap before her. Those awful weeks of anxiety had left traces +upon her face, now thin and worn. And she felt that her lover's fate +was sealed unless he could clear himself. In desperation she had sought +the great doctor, and he had been most thoughtful and sympathetic. + +"I think," he went on in a kindly voice, "I think it would be best, Miss +Shearman, if you went home, and remained there in patience. You know +that Mr Pelham is a sharp lawyer, and, being quite alive to the +seriousness of the situation, he will do his very utmost for his client. +Go quietly home, and await the result of our combined efforts," he +urged sympathetically. "I am meeting Mr Trustram again at five +o'clock. Believe me, Mr Trustram is not inactive, while I, too, am +doing my level best in your lover's interests." + +"Oh! thank you," cried the girl, tears standing in her fine blue eyes. +"You are both so good! I--I don't know how to thank you both," and, +unable to further restrain her emotion, she suddenly burst into tears. + +Quickly he rose and, placing his hand tenderly upon her shoulder, he +uttered kind and sympathetic words, by which she was at length calmed; +and presently she rose and left the room, Sir Houston promising to +report to her on the morrow. + +"Now, don't alarm yourself unduly," was his parting injunction. "Just +remain quite calm and patient, for I assure you that all that can be +done will be done, and is, indeed, being done." + +And then, when the door had closed, the great pathologist drew his hand +wearily across his white brow, sighed, buttoned his perfectly-fitting +morning-coat, glanced at himself in the glass to see that his hair was +unruffled--for he was a bit of a dandy--and then pressed the bell for +his next patient. + +Meanwhile, Charles Trustram was working in his big airy private room at +the Admiralty. Many men in naval uniform were ever coming and going, +for his room was always the scene of great, but quiet, orderly activity. + +At his big table he was examining documents, signing some, dictating +letters to his secretary, and discussing matters put forward by the +officials who brought him papers to read and initial. + +Presently there entered a lieutenant with a pale yellow naval +signal-form, upon which was written a long message from the wireless +department. + +Those long, spidery aerial wires suspended between the domes at the +Admiralty, had caught and intercepted a German message sent out from +Norddeich, the big German station at the mouth of the Elbe, to Pola, on +the Adriatic. It had been in code, of course, but in the department it +had been de-coded; and the enemy's message, as the officer placed it +before him, was a truly illuminating one. + +"I think this is what you wanted," said the lieutenant, as he placed the +paper before him. "It came in an hour ago, but they've found great +difficulty in decoding it. That is what you meant--is it not?" + +"Good Heavens! Yes!" cried Trustram, starting to his feet. "Why, here +the information has been sent to Austria for re-transmission to the +German submarines--the exact information I gave of transports leaving +for the Dardanelles! The _Ellenborough_ and _Desborough_ are not +mentioned. That shows the extent of their intimate knowledge of the +movements of our ships. But you see," he went on, pointing to the +message, "the _Cardigan_, _Leatherhead_ and _Turleigh_ are all mentioned +as having left Southampton escorted to Gibraltar, and not beyond, and +further, that in future all drafts will embark at Plymouth--just the +very information that I gave!" + +"Yes; I quite see. There must be somewhere a very rapid and secret +channel for the transit of information to Germany." + +"Yes, and we have to find that out, without further delay," Trustram +replied. "But," he added, "this has fixed the responsibility +undoubtedly. Is Captain Weardale in his room?" + +"He was, when I came along to you." + +Trustram thanked him, and, a few moments later, was walking down one of +the long corridors in the new building of the Admiralty overlooking St +James's Park, bearing the deciphered dispatch from the enemy in his +hand. + +"The artful skunk!" he muttered to himself. "Who would have credited +such a thing! But it's that confounded woman, I suppose--the woman of +whom poor Jerrold entertained such grave suspicions. What is the secret +of it all, I wonder? I'll find out--if it costs me my life! How +fortunate that I should have suspected, and been able to test the +leakage of information, as I have done!" + +Just before midnight a rather hollow-eyed, well-dressed young man was +seated in Mrs Kirby's pretty little drawing-room in Cadogan Gardens. +The dark plush curtains were drawn, and against them the big bowl of +daffodils stood out in all their artistic beauty beneath the +electric-light. His hostess was elaborately dressed, as was her wont, +yet with a quiet, subdued taste which gave her an almost aristocratic +air. She posed as a giddy bridge-player, a theatre and night-club goer; +a woman who smoked, who was careless of what people thought, and who +took drugs secretly. That, however, was only her mask. Really she was +a most careful, abstemious, level-headed woman, whose eye was always +directed towards the main chance of obtaining information which might be +of use to her friend Lewin Rodwell, and his masters abroad. + +Both were German-born. The trail of the Hun was over them--that Teuton +taint of a hopeful world-power which, being inborn, could never be +eradicated. + +"Well?" she was asking, as she lolled artistically in the silk-covered +easy chair in her pretty room, upholstered in carnation pink. "So you +can't see him till to-morrow? That's horribly unfortunate. I'm very +disappointed," she added pettishly. + +"No," replied the young man, who, fair-haired and square-jawed, was of +distinctly German type. "I'm sorry. I tried my best, but I failed." + +"H'm. I thought you were clever enough, Carl. But it seems that you +failed," and she sighed wearily. + +"You know, Molly, I'd do anything for you," replied the young fellow, +who was evidently of quite superior class, for he wore his well-cut +evening coat and soft-fronted dress-shirt with the ease of one +accustomed to such things. And, if the truth were told, he would have +been recognised by any of the clerks in the bureau of the Savoy Hotel as +one of their most regular customers at dinner or supper. + +"I know that, Carl," replied the handsome woman impatiently. "But, you +see, I had made all my arrangements. The information is wanted hourly +in Berlin. It is most urgent." + +"Well, they'll have to wait, my dear Molly. If I can't get it till +to-morrow--I can't." + +"Why not?" + +"Oh, what's the good of explaining? Heinrich has gone off down to +Brighton with a little friend of his--that's all. He's motored her down +to the Metropole, and won't be back till to-morrow. How, in Heaven's +name, can I help it?" + +"I don't suppose you can, my dear boy," laughed the big, overbearing +woman, who held the son of the "naturalised" German financier in the +grip of her white, bejewelled fingers. "But, all the same, we have both +to remember our duty to the Fatherland. We are at war." + +"True! And haven't I helped the Fatherland? Was it not from +information given by me that you knew the truth of the blowing up of the +battleship _Bulwark_ off Sheerness, and of the loss of the _Formidable_ +on New Year's day? Have I and my friends in Jermyn Street been +inactive?" + +"No, you haven't. Our dear Fatherland owes you and your friends a deep +debt of gratitude. But--Well, I tell you, I'm annoyed because my plans +have been upset by your failure to-day." + +"Rodwell's plans, you mean! Not yours!" cried the young fellow, his +jealousy apparent. + +"No, not at all. I don't see why you should so constantly refer to Mr +Rodwell. He is our superior, as you know, and in its wisdom Number +Seventy has placed him in supreme command." + +"Then why do you complain of my failure?" protested the young man +viciously, placing his cigarette-end in the silver ash-tray. + +"I don't. I only tell you that it has upset my personal plans. I had +hoped to get away down to Torquay to-morrow. I must have a change. I'm +run down." + +"One day does not matter, surely, when our national interests are at +stake!" + +"Of course not, silly boy," laughed the woman. She saw that she was not +treating him with tact, and knew his exact value. "Don't let us discuss +it any further. See what you can do to-morrow." + +"I'll compel Heinrich to get at what we want," cried Carl Berenstein-- +whose father had, since the war, changed his name, with the consent of +the Home Office, of course, to Burton. "I'm as savage as you are that +he should prefer to motor a girl to Brighton. But what can I do?" + +"Nothing, my dear boy. The girl will always win. When you've lived as +long as I have, you will understand." + +"Then you don't blame me--do you?" asked the young man, eagerly. + +"Why, of course, not at all, my dear Carl. Heinrich's a fool to be +attracted by any petticoat. There are always so many better." + +"As long as you don't blame me, Molly, I don't care. The guv'nor is as +wild as I am about it." + +"Oh, never mind. Get hold of him when he comes back, and come here as +soon as possible and tell me. Remember that Number Seventy is thirsting +for information." + +"Yes, I will. Rely on me. We are good Germans, all of us. These silly +swelled-headed fools of English are only playing into our hands. They +have no idea of what they will have to face later on. _Ach_! I only +wish I were back again in the dear Rhineland with my friends, who are +now officers serving at the front. But this British bubble cannot last. +It must soon be pricked. And its result must be disastrous." + +"We hope so. We can't tell. But, there, don't let us discuss it. We +are out to win the war. This matter I leave to you, good Germans that +you and Heinrich are, to make your report." + +"Good. I will be here to-morrow evening, when I hope I shall have +everything quite clear and precise. There is to be a big movement of +troops to France the day after to-morrow, and I hope to give you a list +of the names of all the regiments, with their destinations. You know, I +suppose, that three parts of the cartridges they are making at the G-- +factory will, in a month's time, when they get to the front, be +useless?" + +"So Mr Rodwell told me, a couple of days ago. Herzfelder is evidently +doing good work there; but it is not a matter even to whisper about. It +might leak out, and tests might be made." + +Then, having drained off the whisky-and-soda which his hostess had +poured out for him, he rose, shook her hand warmly, saying, "I'll be +here as early as possible to-morrow night. Good-bye, Molly," and strode +out. + +And the maid showed the young man to the door of the flat, while Mrs +Kirby cast herself into a low lounge-chair before the fire, lit a +cigarette, and, with her eyes fixed thoughtfully upon the flames, smoked +furiously. + +CHAPTER TWENTY. + +TOLD AT DAWN. + +Again the grey dawn was breaking over the chill North Sea--a wild, +tempestuous morning. + +On the far horizon northward, a steamer had just appeared, leaving +behind a long trail of black smoke, but over the great expanse of +storm-tossed waters which broke heavily upon the beach there was no sign +of any other craft. + +Thirty-six hours had passed since the young German who called himself +Burton, but whose real name was Berenstein, had sat in Mrs Kirby's +drawing-room discussing the faulty ammunition being made at the works at +G--. Twelve hours before, namely, at six o'clock on the previous +evening, the court-martial sitting at the Old Bailey had concluded the +hearing of the grave case of espionage brought against young Sainsbury. +The evidence--some of the most damning evidence ever brought before a +court-martial--had been given, and Mr Pelham his counsel had made his +speech for the defence. Sentence had been postponed, in order that the +whole of the facts should be considered by the military authorities. +The trial having taken place _in camera_, not a word had leaked out to +the newspapers, therefore the public were in ignorance of the young +man's arrest, still more so of the grave offence with which he had been +charged. + +Elise knew what had happened. She had sat outside the court, in the big +stone hall upstairs, where a kindly usher had given her a brief resume +of the proceedings. Indeed, through the glass door she had been able to +get a momentary peep of her lover as he had stood in the dock, pale and +erect, defiant of his accusers. + +When the court rose, she had returned to Fitzjohn's Avenue in a taxicab, +sobbing and broken-hearted. + +On arriving home she had rung up Sir Houston Bird on the telephone, but +his man had answered saying that he had been called out suddenly, and +had not returned. Therefore she went to her room and there gave way to +a paroxysm of grief. It was over. _Jack had been found guilty_! + +In the grey light of dawn, Lewin Rodwell was seated in the stuffy, +little room in Tom Small's cottage, his hand upon the telegraph-key, +clicking out rapidly a message to Berlin. + +At his side sat his accomplice, Mrs Kirby, in a heavy fur motor-coat +with toque to match, for she had been all night on the road with Penney, +who, having dropped her quite near, had turned the car and gone back +into Horncastle to wait until the following evening. + +The woman had been engaged writing, by the light of the petrol lamp, a +long message since her arrival an hour before, while it was still dark; +and it was this--a detailed report of the movements of troops to the +front in Flanders, which young Burton had obtained for her--that Rodwell +was engaged in transmitting. + +Without speaking the spy sat, his left elbow upon the table, with his +brow upon his palm while, with his right hand, he tapped away quickly +with the rapid touch of the expert telegraphist. + +"What a wretched little place!" the woman remarked at last, gazing +around the narrow little bedroom. "How horribly close and stuffy!" + +"Yes, and you'd find it so, if you'd been here a prisoner for three days +and nights, as I have, Molly," her companion laughed, still continuing +to transmit the information for which Number Seventy had asked so +constantly. The German General Staff were anxious to ascertain what +strength of reinforcements we were sending to our line near Ypres. + +Suddenly Rodwell shouted for Ted; but the woman, passing into the +living-room, calling for young Small, and receiving no reply, remarked: +"I believe they both went out down on the beach, to the boat, a moment +ago. Do you want him?" + +"Only to tell him to get some breakfast. You must be fagged out after +your journey," he said, still working the cable without a pause. "How +cold and draughty this house is!" he said. "I shall be glad when night +comes again, and we can get away. I mean to give this place a rest for +a month. I'm afraid it's getting just a bit unhealthy for me. Come in, +and shut the door, Molly. I'm nearly blown out, with that door open," +he complained. + +Then, after she had re-entered the room and closed the door, he soon +gave the signal "end of message," and paused for the acknowledgment. + +It came without delay. A few rapid clicks, and then all was still +again--a silence save for the howl of the wind and the monotonous roar +of the great breakers rolling in upon the beach outside. + +"Well, Molly," the man said, as he lit a cigarette, and seated himself +on the edge of the little old-fashioned bed, "we'll have to stay in +here, I suppose, till it's dark. Small doesn't like it known that he +has visitors. What time did you order Penney?" + +"I told him to be at the place where he usually drops you at eight +o'clock." + +"Excellent. I wonder where Ted is? I want my breakfast badly." + +"He said something about going down to the boat to get some fish for +you." + +"Ah! of course. They went out in the night. I forgot," he said. + +Then, after a pause, the woman exclaimed-- + +"Is there no possibility of getting away from here before night? I +don't like the black looks which Small and his son gave me, Lewin." + +"Black looks! Oh, that's nothing. I'm always putting the screw on +them. Besides, Ted got to know from Stendel--who chatted to him over +the wire one day--all about the Scarborough raid. So, naturally, he's +antagonistic." + +"But he might betray us, you know." + +"He'll never do that, depend upon it. He knows that his own neck would +be in danger if he did so. So rest quite assured about that." Then, +after a few moments' silence, he added: "I wonder when we shall get that +young Sainsbury out of the way. He's the greatest source of danger that +we have." + +"I thought your idea was that nobody would believe him, whatever he +alleged against you?" asked the woman. + +"That's so. But we have now to count with Trustram. If he wilfully +deceived me regarding those two transports leaving Plymouth, then he +certainly suspects. And if he suspects, his suspicions may lead him in +the direction of Sainsbury--see?" + +"Yes. I quite see. You scent a further danger!" + +"No, not exactly," was his vague reply, an evil smile upon his lips. +"With the exercise of due precaution we need have nothing to fear--as +long as Sainsbury's mouth is closed by the law--as it must be in a day +or two." + +"But you don't mean to come down here again for some time, do you?" + +"No. For the next week or two we must trust to other channels of +transmission--Schuette's wireless at Sydenham, perhaps, though that's +far from satisfactory." + +"Hark!" exclaimed the woman, as they heard someone at the outer door. +Both listened. There was a grating sound like that of a key--as though +the door was being unlocked. + +This surprised them, and they exchanged inquiring glances. + +There was a sound of heavy footsteps, causing them both to hold their +breath. + +Next instant the door of the bedroom was unceremoniously flung open, +revealing upon the threshold two burly men in hard felt hats and +overcoats presenting service revolvers at them. + +It was a striking scene. + +The woman screamed loudly, but the man, who had sprung to his feet to +find himself thus cornered, stood firm, his face blanched, and his +eyebrows contracted. + +"And pray what's the meaning of all this?" he demanded, in hoarse +defiance. + +A second later, however, he saw that behind the two men who entered the +room to place himself and his companion under arrest, were three other +persons. One was a naval officer in uniform, evidently from the +Admiralty Intelligence Department, while the other two were men +well-known to him--namely, Sir Houston Bird and Charles Trustram. + +"Your clever game is up, Mr Rodwell!" exclaimed Trustram, entering the +room with the naval captain, whose gaze fell at once upon the telegraph +instruments mounted on the old sewing-machine in the corner. + +"Yes," exclaimed the officer. "And a pretty big game it seems to have +been--eh? So you've been working a cable across to Germany, have you? +We've had suspicion that the cable laid to Wangeroog might have had a +second shore-end, and, indeed, we started dredging for it off the Spurn +only two days ago." + +"Mr Rodwell," said Trustram, addressing him, as the two detectives were +searching him for firearms: "You thought you were very clever. You +betrayed me once, but I took very good care that all the information I +gave you afterwards should be such as you would work for England's +advantage, and not for yours. In one case last week, when your masters +acted upon my information, we were able to bag six of your submarines in +the Straits of Dover within forty-eight hours. So you see my game was a +double one," he added, with a smile of satisfaction. + +Rodwell was so nonplussed at thus being caught red-handed, that he could +utter no reply. All his bluff and defiance had left him, and he stood +white, inert, with a look of abject shame and terror upon his changed +countenance. + +As for the woman, she gave vent to a torrent of bitter vituperation. +But nobody noticed her; she had, like poor old Tom Small and his son, +been simply tools of that unscrupulous and clever master-spy in whose +stirring patriotism all England was believing, but who had at last +fallen into the trap which Charles Trustram had so cunningly prepared +for him--a trap in which the confirmation of his traitorous act had +actually been made by the enemy's unseen wireless rays. + +Sir Houston said little, except to remark that no doubt Lewin Rodwell's +arrest would put a new complexion upon the case against John Sainsbury, +and result, he hoped, in breaking up the activity of the enemy in our +midst. + +Of much that followed the public are already aware. + +The newspapers, however, merely reported that Mr Lewin Rodwell, who had +been a most popular speaker at recruiting meetings, who had been a +well-known city financier, and a power in the social and political world +of London, had died suddenly in a motor-car in the Brixton Road. The +Censor, however, suppressed the facts that he had been in the custody of +two officers of the Special Department of New Scotland Yard when the +tragic occurrence happened, and that he had succeeded in swallowing a +tabloid that he had carried concealed in his handkerchief in case of +necessity, while being conveyed to Brixton Prison on a charge of +espionage. + +The public knew, of course, that an unnamed woman was under arrest for +acts of war-treason and, later, that she had been sentenced to eight +years' imprisonment. They also knew that Jack Sainsbury had been +mysteriously and suddenly released by a Home Office order, after having +been tried and convicted by court-martial; but the true story of the +evil machinations of Ludwig Heitzman, alias Lewin Rodwell, and how he +had succeeded in bringing such indisputable evidence against an innocent +man, is here revealed for the first time in the foregoing pages. + +On the evening of Lewin Rodwell's well-deserved, but cowardly end--the +evening of the day of his arrest--Sir Boyle Huntley disappeared from +London to the Continent, and was never again seen. + +On that same night, too, at ten o'clock, there was a little assembly in +Sir Houston Bird's consulting-room in Cavendish Square. Jack and his +fiancee were standing happily reunited and arm in arm, while Charles +Trustram and Sir Houston were also present. It was then that Trustram +decided to hand over the note which poor Dr Jerrold had left for his +friend on the fatal night before he took his own life. + +Jack broke the seals, and slowly taking out the brief letter, read it, +his lips contracting as he realised its contents. Then he handed it +from one to the other until they had all read it. + +The confession, for such it was, showed how Jerrold had, like old +Small--who, by the way, was forgiven, for the assistance he had in the +end rendered to the authorities--first been inveigled into the net +spread by a moneylender, and having been forced to perform a small +traitorous though unsuspected act three years before the outbreak of +war, had, in order to extricate himself from financial ruin, been +constantly threatened with exposure by Rodwell if he refused to further +help the enemy, now that we were at war. He had steadfastly defied the +master-spy, and had, indeed, in order to retrieve his past, boldly +sought out spies and denounced them. But, alas! Rodwell's widespread +influence in the network of espionage asserted itself, and into the +hands of the Intelligence Department there had been placed the facts, +with the proofs of his action three years before. A warrant had +consequently been issued, and rather than bear the blackmail longer, or +the punishment, he had been driven to take his own life, and thus +unfortunately give colour to the base, unfounded charges levelled +against his friend. + +Then, when the lovers knew the truth--and that the anonymous letter of +warning had been sent by the woman Kirby in order to mystify them and +thus strengthen Rodwell's hand--Jack, heedless of their two friends +being present, turned and kissed his well-beloved fondly upon the lips. + +He saw that her big blue eyes were dimmed by tears of joy, and then he +said, his voice trembling with emotion: + +"At last, my darling, I am free--free to love and to marry you--free at +last of that terrible stigma placed so cleverly and wilfully upon me by +that mean, despicable coward, who was both spy and blackmailer." + +"Yes, Jack dear," whispered the girl softly, as she raised her ready +lips to those of her lover--"yes, you are free, and moreover we now love +each other far better than ever we did, for our affection has been +tried--tried and proven in the fire of the hatred of `Number Seventy +Berlin.'" + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Number 70, Berlin, by William Le Queux + +*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 41131 *** |