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diff --git a/old/39stp10.txt b/old/39stp10.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..485188a --- /dev/null +++ b/old/39stp10.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4602 @@ +*****The Project Gutenberg Etext of The Thirty-Nine Steps***** +#1 in our series by John Buchan + + +Copyright laws are changing all over the world, be sure to check +the copyright laws for your country before posting these files!! + +Please take a look at the important information in this header. +We encourage you to keep this file on your own disk, keeping an +electronic path open for the next readers. Do not remove this. + + +**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts** + +**Etexts Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971** + +*These Etexts Prepared By Hundreds of Volunteers and Donations* + +Information on contacting Project Gutenberg to get Etexts, and +further information is included below. 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FOR PUBLIC DOMAIN ETEXTS*Ver.04.29.93*END* + + + + + + +THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS + +by JOHN BUCHAN + + + + + +TO + +THOMAS ARTHUR NELSON + +(LOTHIAN AND BORDER HORSE) + +My Dear Tommy, + +You and I have long cherished an affection for that +elemental type of tale which Americans call the +'dime novel' and which we know as the 'shocker'--the +romance where the incidents defy the probabilities, and +march just inside the borders of the possible. During +an illness last winter I exhausted my store of those +aids to cheerfulness, and was driven to write one for +myself. This little volume is the result, and I should +like to put your name on it in memory of our long +friendship, in the days when the wildest fictions are so +much less improbable than the facts. + +J.B. + + + +CONTENTS + + +1. The Man Who Died +2. The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels +3. The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper +4. The Adventure of the Radical Candidate +5. The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman +6. The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist +7. The Dry-Fly Fisherman +8. The Coming of the Black Stone +9. The Thirty-Nine Steps +10. Various Parties Converging on the Sea + + + +CHAPTER ONE +The Man Who Died + + +I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon +pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old +Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago +that I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at +him; but there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk +of the ordinary Englishman made me sick, I couldn't get enough +exercise, and the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda- +water that has been standing in the sun. 'Richard Hannay,' I kept +telling myself, 'you have got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and +you had better climb out.' + +It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building +up those last years in Bulawayo. I had got my pile--not one of the +big ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds +of ways of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from +Scotland at the age of six, and I had never been home since; so +England was a sort of Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on +stopping there for the rest of my days. + +But from the first I was disappointed with it. In about a week I +was tired of seeing sights, and in less than a month I had had +enough of restaurants and theatres and race-meetings. I had no real +pal to go about with, which probably explains things. Plenty of +people invited me to their houses, but they didn't seem much +interested in me. They would fling me a question or two about +South Africa, and then get on their own affairs. A lot of Imperialist +ladies asked me to tea to meet schoolmasters from New Zealand +and editors from Vancouver, and that was the dismalest business of +all. Here was I, thirty-seven years old, sound in wind and limb, +with enough money to have a good time, yawning my head off all +day. I had just about settled to clear out and get back to the veld, +for I was the best bored man in the United Kingdom. + +That afternoon I had been worrying my brokers about +investments to give my mind something to work on, and on my +way home I turned into my club--rather a pot-house, which took +in Colonial members. I had a long drink, and read the evening +papers. They were full of the row in the Near East, and there was +an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier. I rather fancied the +chap. From all accounts he seemed the one big man in the show; +and he played a straight game too, which was more than could be +said for most of them. I gathered that they hated him pretty blackly +in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, and +one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and +Armageddon. I remember wondering if I could get a job in those +parts. It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might +keep a man from yawning. + +About six o'clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Cafe Royal, +and turned into a music-hall. It was a silly show, all capering +women and monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long. The night +was fine and clear as I walked back to the flat I had hired near +Portland Place. The crowd surged past me on the pavements, busy +and chattering, and I envied the people for having something to +do. These shop-girls and clerks and dandies and policemen had +some interest in life that kept them going. I gave half-a-crown to a +beggar because I saw him yawn; he was a fellow-sufferer. At Oxford +Circus I looked up into the spring sky and I made a vow. I would +give the Old Country another day to fit me into something; if +nothing happened, I would take the next boat for the Cape. + +My flat was the first floor in a new block behind Langham Place. +There was a common staircase, with a porter and a liftman at the +entrance, but there was no restaurant or anything of that sort, and +each flat was quite shut off from the others. I hate servants on the +premises, so I had a fellow to look after me who came in by the +day. He arrived before eight o'clock every morning and used to +depart at seven, for I never dined at home. + +I was just fitting my key into the door when I noticed a man at +my elbow. I had not seen him approach, and the sudden appearance +made me start. He was a slim man, with a short brown beard and +small, gimlety blue eyes. I recognized him as the occupant of a flat +on the top floor, with whom I had passed the time of day on the +stairs. + +'Can I speak to you?' he said. 'May I come in for a minute?' He +was steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm. + +I got my door open and motioned him in. No sooner was he +over the threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I +used to smoke and write my letters. Then he bolted back. + +'Is the door locked?' he asked feverishly, and he fastened the +chain with his own hand. + +'I'm very sorry,' he said humbly. 'It's a mighty liberty, but you +looked the kind of man who would understand. I've had you in my +mind all this week when things got troublesome. Say, will you do +me a good turn?' + +'I'll listen to you,' I said. 'That's all I'll promise.' I was getting +worried by the antics of this nervous little chap. + +There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he +filled himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three +gulps, and cracked the glass as he set it down. + +'Pardon,' he said, 'I'm a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at +this moment to be dead.' + +I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe. + +'What does it feel like?' I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to +deal with a madman. + +A smile flickered over his drawn face. 'I'm not mad--yet. Say, +Sir, I've been watching you, and I reckon you're a cool customer. I +reckon, too, you're an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold +hand. I'm going to confide in you. I need help worse than any man +ever needed it, and I want to know if I can count you in.' + +'Get on with your yarn,' I said, 'and I'll tell you.' + +He seemed to brace himself for a great effort, and then started on +the queerest rigmarole. I didn't get hold of it at first, and I had to +stop and ask him questions. But here is the gist of it: + +He was an American, from Kentucky, and after college, being +pretty well off, he had started out to see the world. He wrote a bit, +and acted as war correspondent for a Chicago paper, and spent a +year or two in South-Eastern Europe. I gathered that he was a fine +linguist, and had got to know pretty well the society in those parts. +He spoke familiarly of many names that I remembered to have seen +in the newspapers. + +He had played about with politics, he told me, at first for the +interest of them, and then because he couldn't help himself. I read +him as a sharp, restless fellow, who always wanted to get down to +the roots of things. He got a little further down than he wanted. + +I am giving you what he told me as well as I could make it out. +Away behind all the Governments and the armies there was a big +subterranean movement going on, engineered by very dangerous +people. He had come on it by accident; it fascinated him; he went +further, and then he got caught. I gathered that most of the people +in it were the sort of educated anarchists that make revolutions, but +that beside them there were financiers who were playing for money. +A clever man can make big profits on a falling market, and it suited +the book of both classes to set Europe by the ears. + +He told me some queer things that explained a lot that had +puzzled me--things that happened in the Balkan War, how one +state suddenly came out on top, why alliances were made and +broken, why certain men disappeared, and where the sinews of war +came from. The aim of the whole conspiracy was to get Russia and +Germany at loggerheads. + +When I asked why, he said that the anarchist lot thought it +would give them their chance. Everything would be in the melting- +pot, and they looked to see a new world emerge. The capitalists +would rake in the shekels, and make fortunes by buying up wreckage. +Capital, he said, had no conscience and no fatherland. Besides, +the Jew was behind it, and the Jew hated Russia worse than hell. + +'Do you wonder?' he cried. 'For three hundred years they have +been persecuted, and this is the return match for the pogroms. The +Jew is everywhere, but you have to go far down the backstairs to +find him. Take any big Teutonic business concern. If you have +dealings with it the first man you meet is Prince von und Zu Something, +an elegant young man who talks Eton-and-Harrow English. +But he cuts no ice. If your business is big, you get behind him and +find a prognathous Westphalian with a retreating brow and the +manners of a hog. He is the German business man that gives your +English papers the shakes. But if you're on the biggest kind of job +and are bound to get to the real boss, ten to one you are brought up +against a little white-faced Jew in a bath-chair with an eye like a +rattlesnake. Yes, Sir, he is the man who is ruling the world just +now, and he has his knife in the Empire of the Tzar, because his +aunt was outraged and his father flogged in some one-horse location +on the Volga.' + +I could not help saying that his Jew-anarchists seemed to have +got left behind a little. + +'Yes and no,' he said. 'They won up to a point, but they struck a +bigger thing than money, a thing that couldn't be bought, the old +elemental fighting instincts of man. If you're going to be killed you +invent some kind of flag and country to fight for, and if you +survive you get to love the thing. Those foolish devils of soldiers +have found something they care for, and that has upset the pretty +plan laid in Berlin and Vienna. But my friends haven't played their +last card by a long sight. They've gotten the ace up their sleeves, +and unless I can keep alive for a month they are going to play it +and win.' + +'But I thought you were dead,' I put in. + +'MORS JANUA VITAE,' he smiled. (I recognized the quotation: it was +about all the Latin I knew.) 'I'm coming to that, but I've got to put +you wise about a lot of things first. If you read your newspaper, I +guess you know the name of Constantine Karolides?' + +I sat up at that, for I had been reading about him that +very afternoon. + +'He is the man that has wrecked all their games. He is the one +big brain in the whole show, and he happens also to be an honest +man. Therefore he has been marked down these twelve months +past. I found that out--not that it was difficult, for any fool could +guess as much. But I found out the way they were going to get +him, and that knowledge was deadly. That's why I have had to decease.' + +He had another drink, and I mixed it for him myself, for I was +getting interested in the beggar. + +'They can't get him in his own land, for he has a bodyguard of +Epirotes that would skin their grandmothers. But on the 15th day of +June he is coming to this city. The British Foreign Office has taken +to having International tea-parties, and the biggest of them is due +on that date. Now Karolides is reckoned the principal guest, and if +my friends have their way he will never return to his admiring +countrymen.' + +'That's simple enough, anyhow,' I said. 'You can warn him and +keep him at home.' + +'And play their game?' he asked sharply. 'If he does not come +they win, for he's the only man that can straighten out the tangle. +And if his Government are warned he won't come, for he does not +know how big the stakes will be on June the 15th.' + +'What about the British Government?' I said. 'They're not going +to let their guests be murdered. Tip them the wink, and they'll take +extra precautions.' + +'No good. They might stuff your city with plain-clothes detectives +and double the police and Constantine would still be a +doomed man. My friends are not playing this game for candy. They +want a big occasion for the taking off, with the eyes of all Europe +on it. He'll be murdered by an Austrian, and there'll be plenty of +evidence to show the connivance of the big folk in Vienna and +Berlin. It will all be an infernal lie, of course, but the case will look +black enough to the world. I'm not talking hot air, my friend. I +happen to know every detail of the hellish contrivance, and I can +tell you it will be the most finished piece of blackguardism since the +Borgias. But it's not going to come off if there's a certain man who +knows the wheels of the business alive right here in London on the +15th day of June. And that man is going to be your servant, +Franklin P. Scudder.' + +I was getting to like the little chap. His jaw had shut like a rat- +trap, and there was the fire of battle in his gimlety eyes. If he was +spinning me a yarn he could act up to it. + +'Where did you find out this story?' I asked. + +'I got the first hint in an inn on the Achensee in Tyrol. That set me +inquiring, and I collected my other clues in a fur-shop in the Galician +quarter of Buda, in a Strangers' Club in Vienna, and in a little +bookshop off the Racknitzstrasse in Leipsic. I completed my evidence +ten days ago in Paris. I can't tell you the details now, for it's +something of a history. When I was quite sure in my own mind I +judged it my business to disappear, and I reached this city by a mighty +queer circuit. I left Paris a dandified young French-American, and I +sailed from Hamburg a Jew diamond merchant. In Norway I was an +English student of Ibsen collecting materials for lectures, but when I +left Bergen I was a cinema-man with special ski films. And I came +here from Leith with a lot of pulp-wood propositions in my pocket to +put before the London newspapers. Till yesterday I thought I had +muddied my trail some, and was feeling pretty happy. Then ...' + +The recollection seemed to upset him, and he gulped down some +more whisky. + +'Then I saw a man standing in the street outside this block. I +used to stay close in my room all day, and only slip out after dark +for an hour or two. I watched him for a bit from my window, and I +thought I recognized him ... He came in and spoke to the porter +... When I came back from my walk last night I found a card in +my letter-box. It bore the name of the man I want least to meet on +God's earth.' + +I think that the look in my companion's eyes, the sheer naked +scare on his face, completed my conviction of his honesty. My own +voice sharpened a bit as I asked him what he did next. + +'I realized that I was bottled as sure as a pickled herring, and that +there was only one way out. I had to die. If my pursuers knew I +was dead they would go to sleep again.' + +'How did you manage it?' + +'I told the man that valets me that I was feeling pretty bad, and I +got myself up to look like death. That wasn't difficult, for I'm no +slouch at disguises. Then I got a corpse--you can always get a +body in London if you know where to go for it. I fetched it back in +a trunk on the top of a four-wheeler, and I had to be assisted +upstairs to my room. You see I had to pile up some evidence for +the inquest. I went to bed and got my man to mix me a sleeping- +draught, and then told him to clear out. He wanted to fetch a +doctor, but I swore some and said I couldn't abide leeches. When I +was left alone I started in to fake up that corpse. He was my size, +and I judged had perished from too much alcohol, so I put some +spirits handy about the place. The jaw was the weak point in the +likeness, so I blew it away with a revolver. I daresay there will be +somebody tomorrow to swear to having heard a shot, but there are +no neighbours on my floor, and I guessed I could risk it. So I left +the body in bed dressed up in my pyjamas, with a revolver lying on +the bed-clothes and a considerable mess around. Then I got into a +suit of clothes I had kept waiting for emergencies. I didn't dare to +shave for fear of leaving tracks, and besides, it wasn't any kind of +use my trying to get into the streets. I had had you in my mind all +day, and there seemed nothing to do but to make an appeal to you. +I watched from my window till I saw you come home, and then +slipped down the stair to meet you ... There, Sir, I guess you +know about as much as me of this business.' + +He sat blinking like an owl, fluttering with nerves and yet +desperately determined. By this time I was pretty well convinced +that he was going straight with me. It was the wildest sort of +narrative, but I had heard in my time many steep tales which had +turned out to be true, and I had made a practice of judging the man +rather than the story. If he had wanted to get a location in my flat, +and then cut my throat, he would have pitched a milder yarn. + +'Hand me your key,' I said, 'and I'll take a look at the corpse. +Excuse my caution, but I'm bound to verify a bit if I can.' + +He shook his head mournfully. 'I reckoned you'd ask for that, +but I haven't got it. It's on my chain on the dressing-table. I had to +leave it behind, for I couldn't leave any clues to breed suspicions. +The gentry who are after me are pretty bright-eyed citizens. You'll +have to take me on trust for the night, and tomorrow you'll get +proof of the corpse business right enough.' + +I thought for an instant or two. 'Right. I'll trust you for the +night. I'll lock you into this room and keep the key. Just one word, +Mr Scudder. I believe you're straight, but if so be you are not I +should warn you that I'm a handy man with a gun.' + +'Sure,' he said, jumping up with some briskness. 'I haven't the +privilege of your name, Sir, but let me tell you that you're a white +man. I'll thank you to lend me a razor.' + +I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose. In half an +hour's time a figure came out that I scarcely recognized. Only his +gimlety, hungry eyes were the same. He was shaved clean, his hair +was parted in the middle, and he had cut his eyebrows. Further, he +carried himself as if he had been drilled, and was the very model, +even to the brown complexion, of some British officer who had +had a long spell in India. He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in +his eye, and every trace of the American had gone out of his speech. + +'My hat! Mr Scudder--' I stammered. + +'Not Mr Scudder,' he corrected; 'Captain Theophilus Digby, of +the 40th Gurkhas, presently home on leave. I'll thank you to +remember that, Sir.' + +I made him up a bed in my smoking-room and sought my own +couch, more cheerful than I had been for the past month. Things +did happen occasionally, even in this God-forgotten metropolis. + +I woke next morning to hear my man, Paddock, making the deuce +of a row at the smoking-room door. Paddock was a fellow I had +done a good turn to out on the Selakwe, and I had inspanned him +as my servant as soon as I got to England. He had about as much +gift of the gab as a hippopotamus, and was not a great hand at +valeting, but I knew I could count on his loyalty. + +'Stop that row, Paddock,' I said. 'There's a friend of mine, +Captain--Captain' (I couldn't remember the name) 'dossing down +in there. Get breakfast for two and then come and speak to me.' + +I told Paddock a fine story about how my friend was a great +swell, with his nerves pretty bad from overwork, who wanted +absolute rest and stillness. Nobody had got to know he was here, +or he would be besieged by communications from the India Office +and the Prime Minister and his cure would be ruined. I am bound +to say Scudder played up splendidly when he came to breakfast. He +fixed Paddock with his eyeglass, just like a British officer, asked +him about the Boer War, and slung out at me a lot of stuff about +imaginary pals. Paddock couldn't learn to call me 'Sir', but he +'sirred' Scudder as if his life depended on it. + +I left him with the newspaper and a box of cigars, and went +down to the City till luncheon. When I got back the lift-man had an +important face. + +'Nawsty business 'ere this morning, Sir. Gent in No. 15 been and +shot 'isself. They've just took 'im to the mortiary. The police are +up there now.' + +I ascended to No. 15, and found a couple of bobbies and an +inspector busy making an examination. I asked a few idiotic questions, +and they soon kicked me out. Then I found the man that had +valeted Scudder, and pumped him, but I could see he suspected +nothing. He was a whining fellow with a churchyard face, and half- +a-crown went far to console him. + +I attended the inquest next day. A partner of some publishing firm +gave evidence that the deceased had brought him wood-pulp propositions, +and had been, he believed, an agent of an American business. +The jury found it a case of suicide while of unsound mind, and the few +effects were handed over to the American Consul to deal with. I gave +Scudder a full account of the affair, and it interested him greatly. He +said he wished he could have attended the inquest, for he reckoned it +would be about as spicy as to read one's own obituary notice. + +The first two days he stayed with me in that back room he was +very peaceful. He read and smoked a bit, and made a heap of +jottings in a note-book, and every night we had a game of chess, at +which he beat me hollow. I think he was nursing his nerves back to +health, for he had had a pretty trying time. But on the third day I +could see he was beginning to get restless. He fixed up a list of the +days till June 15th, and ticked each off with a red pencil, making +remarks in shorthand against them. I would find him sunk in a +brown study, with his sharp eyes abstracted, and after those spells +of meditation he was apt to be very despondent. + +Then I could see that he began to get edgy again. He listened for +little noises, and was always asking me if Paddock could be trusted. +Once or twice he got very peevish, and apologized for it. I didn't +blame him. I made every allowance, for he had taken on a fairly +stiff job. + +It was not the safety of his own skin that troubled him, but the +success of the scheme he had planned. That little man was clean grit +all through, without a soft spot in him. One night he was very solemn. + +'Say, Hannay,' he said, 'I judge I should let you a bit deeper into +this business. I should hate to go out without leaving somebody +else to put up a fight.' And he began to tell me in detail what I had +only heard from him vaguely. + +I did not give him very close attention. The fact is, I was more +interested in his own adventures than in his high politics. I reckoned +that Karolides and his affairs were not my business, leaving all that to +him. So a lot that he said slipped clean out of my memory. I remember +that he was very clear that the danger to Karolides would not begin +till he had got to London, and would come from the very highest +quarters, where there would be no thought of suspicion. He mentioned +the name of a woman--Julia Czechenyi--as having something +to do with the danger. She would be the decoy, I gathered, to get +Karolides out of the care of his guards. He talked, too, about a Black +Stone and a man that lisped in his speech, and he described very +particularly somebody that he never referred to without a shudder-- +an old man with a young voice who could hood his eyes like a hawk. + +He spoke a good deal about death, too. He was mortally anxious +about winning through with his job, but he didn't care a rush for +his life. + +'I reckon it's like going to sleep when you are pretty well tired +out, and waking to find a summer day with the scent of hay coming +in at the window. I used to thank God for such mornings way back +in the Blue-Grass country, and I guess I'll thank Him when I wake +up on the other side of Jordan.' + +Next day he was much more cheerful, and read the life of Stonewall +Jackson much of the time. I went out to dinner with a mining +engineer I had got to see on business, and came back about half-past +ten in time for our game of chess before turning in. + +I had a cigar in my mouth, I remember, as I pushed open the +smoking-room door. The lights were not lit, which struck me as +odd. I wondered if Scudder had turned in already. + +I snapped the switch, but there was nobody there. Then I saw +something in the far corner which made me drop my cigar and fall +into a cold sweat. + +My guest was lying sprawled on his back. There was a long knife +through his heart which skewered him to the floor. + + +CHAPTER TWO +The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels + + +I sat down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for maybe +five minutes, and was succeeded by a fit of the horrors. The poor +staring white face on the floor was more than I could bear, and I +managed to get a table-cloth and cover it. Then I staggered to a +cupboard, found the brandy and swallowed several mouthfuls. I +had seen men die violently before; indeed I had killed a few myself +in the Matabele War; but this cold-blooded indoor business was +different. Still I managed to pull myself together. I looked at my +watch, and saw that it was half-past ten. + +An idea seized me, and I went over the flat with a small-tooth +comb. There was nobody there, nor any trace of anybody, but I +shuttered and bolted all the windows and put the chain on the door. +By this time my wits were coming back to me, and I could think +again. It took me about an hour to figure the thing out, and I did +not hurry, for, unless the murderer came back, I had till about six +o'clock in the morning for my cogitations. + +I was in the soup--that was pretty clear. Any shadow of a doubt +I might have had about the truth of Scudder's tale was now gone. +The proof of it was lying under the table-cloth. The men who +knew that he knew what he knew had found him, and had taken +the best way to make certain of his silence. Yes; but he had been in +my rooms four days, and his enemies must have reckoned that he +had confided in me. So I would be the next to go. It might be that +very night, or next day, or the day after, but my number was up +all right. + +Then suddenly I thought of another probability. Supposing I +went out now and called in the police, or went to bed and let +Paddock find the body and call them in the morning. What kind of +a story was I to tell about Scudder? I had lied to Paddock about +him, and the whole thing looked desperately fishy. If I made a clean +breast of it and told the police everything he had told me, they +would simply laugh at me. The odds were a thousand to one that I +would be charged with the murder, and the circumstantial evidence +was strong enough to hang me. Few people knew me in England; I +had no real pal who could come forward and swear to my character. +Perhaps that was what those secret enemies were playing for. They +were clever enough for anything, and an English prison was as +good a way of getting rid of me till after June 15th as a knife in +my chest. + +Besides, if I told the whole story, and by any miracle was believed, +I would be playing their game. Karolides would stay at home, +which was what they wanted. Somehow or other the sight of +Scudder's dead face had made me a passionate believer in his +scheme. He was gone, but he had taken me into his confidence, and +I was pretty well bound to carry on his work. + +You may think this ridiculous for a man in danger of his life, but +that was the way I looked at it. I am an ordinary sort of fellow, not +braver than other people, but I hate to see a good man downed, +and that long knife would not be the end of Scudder if I could play +the game in his place. + +It took me an hour or two to think this out, and by that time I +had come to a decision. I must vanish somehow, and keep vanished +till the end of the second week in June. Then I must somehow find +a way to get in touch with the Government people and tell them +what Scudder had told me. I wished to Heaven he had told me +more, and that I had listened more carefully to the little he had told +me. I knew nothing but the barest facts. There was a big risk that, +even if I weathered the other dangers, I would not be believed in +the end. I must take my chance of that, and hope that something +might happen which would confirm my tale in the eyes of the Government. + +My first job was to keep going for the next three weeks. It was +now the 24th day of May, and that meant twenty days of hiding +before I could venture to approach the powers that be. I reckoned +that two sets of people would be looking for me--Scudder's +enemies to put me out of existence, and the police, who would +want me for Scudder's murder. It was going to be a giddy hunt, +and it was queer how the prospect comforted me. I had been slack +so long that almost any chance of activity was welcome. When I +had to sit alone with that corpse and wait on Fortune I was no +better than a crushed worm, but if my neck's safety was to hang on +my own wits I was prepared to be cheerful about it. + +My next thought was whether Scudder had any papers about him +to give me a better clue to the business. I drew back the table-cloth +and searched his pockets, for I had no longer any shrinking from +the body. The face was wonderfully calm for a man who had been +struck down in a moment. There was nothing in the breast-pocket, +and only a few loose coins and a cigar-holder in the waistcoat. The +trousers held a little penknife and some silver, and the side pocket +of his jacket contained an old crocodile-skin cigar-case. There was +no sign of the little black book in which I had seen him making +notes. That had no doubt been taken by his murderer. + +But as I looked up from my task I saw that some drawers had +been pulled out in the writing-table. Scudder would never have left +them in that state, for he was the tidiest of mortals. Someone must +have been searching for something--perhaps for the pocket-book. + +I went round the flat and found that everything had been ransacked +--the inside of books, drawers, cupboards, boxes, even the +pockets of the clothes in my wardrobe, and the sideboard in the +dining-room. There was no trace of the book. Most likely the enemy +had found it, but they had not found it on Scudder's body. + +Then I got out an atlas and looked at a big map of the British +Isles. My notion was to get off to some wild district, where my +veldcraft would be of some use to me, for I would be like a trapped +rat in a city. I considered that Scotland would be best, for my +people were Scotch and I could pass anywhere as an ordinary +Scotsman. I had half an idea at first to be a German tourist, for my +father had had German partners, and I had been brought up to +speak the tongue pretty fluently, not to mention having put in +three years prospecting for copper in German Damaraland. But I +calculated that it would be less conspicuous to be a Scot, and less in +a line with what the police might know of my past. I fixed on +Galloway as the best place to go. It was the nearest wild part of +Scotland, so far as I could figure it out, and from the look of the +map was not over thick with population. + +A search in Bradshaw informed me that a train left St Pancras at +7.10, which would land me at any Galloway station in the late +afternoon. That was well enough, but a more important matter was +how I was to make my way to St Pancras, for I was pretty certain +that Scudder's friends would be watching outside. This puzzled me +for a bit; then I had an inspiration, on which I went to bed and +slept for two troubled hours. + +I got up at four and opened my bedroom shutters. The faint +light of a fine summer morning was flooding the skies, and the +sparrows had begun to chatter. I had a great revulsion of feeling, +and felt a God-forgotten fool. My inclination was to let things +slide, and trust to the British police taking a reasonable view of my +case. But as I reviewed the situation I could find no arguments to +bring against my decision of the previous night, so with a wry +mouth I resolved to go on with my plan. I was not feeling in any +particular funk; only disinclined to go looking for trouble, if you +understand me. + +I hunted out a well-used tweed suit, a pair of strong nailed boots, +and a flannel shirt with a collar. Into my pockets I stuffed a spare +shirt, a cloth cap, some handkerchiefs, and a tooth-brush. I had +drawn a good sum in gold from the bank two days before, in case +Scudder should want money, and I took fifty pounds of it in +sovereigns in a belt which I had brought back from Rhodesia. That +was about all I wanted. Then I had a bath, and cut my moustache, +which was long and drooping, into a short stubbly fringe. + +Now came the next step. Paddock used to arrive punctually at +7.30 and let himself in with a latch-key. But about twenty minutes +to seven, as I knew from bitter experience, the milkman turned up +with a great clatter of cans, and deposited my share outside my +door. I had seen that milkman sometimes when I had gone out for +an early ride. He was a young man about my own height, with an +ill-nourished moustache, and he wore a white overall. On him I +staked all my chances. + +I went into the darkened smoking-room where the rays of morning +light were beginning to creep through the shutters. There I +breakfasted off a whisky-and-soda and some biscuits from the cupboard. +By this time it was getting on for six o'clock. I put a pipe in +My Pocket and filled my pouch from the tobacco jar on the table by +the fireplace. + +As I poked into the tobacco my fingers touched something hard, +and I drew out Scudder's little black pocket-book ... + +That seemed to me a good omen. I lifted the cloth from the body +and was amazed at the peace and dignity of the dead face. 'Goodbye, +old chap,' I said; 'I am going to do my best for you. Wish me +well, wherever you are.' + +Then I hung about in the hall waiting for the milkman. That was +the worst part of the business, for I was fairly choking to get out of +doors. Six-thirty passed, then six-forty, but still he did not come. +The fool had chosen this day of all days to be late. + +At one minute after the quarter to seven I heard the rattle of the +cans outside. I opened the front door, and there was my man, +singling out my cans from a bunch he carried and whistling through +his teeth. He jumped a bit at the sight of me. + +'Come in here a moment,' I said. 'I want a word with you.' And +I led him into the dining-room. + +'I reckon you're a bit of a sportsman,' I said, 'and I want you to +do me a service. Lend me your cap and overall for ten minutes, and +here's a sovereign for you.' + +His eyes opened at the sight of the gold, and he grinned broadly. +'Wot's the gyme?'he asked. + +'A bet,' I said. 'I haven't time to explain, but to win it I've got to +be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you've got to do is to +stay here till I come back. You'll be a bit late, but nobody will +complain, and you'll have that quid for yourself.' + +'Right-o!' he said cheerily. 'I ain't the man to spoil a bit of sport. +'Ere's the rig, guv'nor.' + +I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the +cans, banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter +at the foot told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up +was adequate. + +At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught +sight of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling +past on the other side. Some impulse made me raise my eyes to the +house opposite, and there at a first-floor window was a face. As the +loafer passed he looked up, and I fancied a signal was exchanged. + +I crossed the street, whistling gaily and imitating the jaunty +swing of the milkman. Then I took the first side street, and went +up a left-hand turning which led past a bit of vacant ground. There +was no one in the little street, so I dropped the milk-cans inside the +hoarding and sent the cap and overall after them. I had only just +put on my cloth cap when a postman came round the corner. I gave +him good morning and he answered me unsuspiciously. At the +moment the clock of a neighbouring church struck the hour of seven. + +There was not a second to spare. As soon as I got to Euston +Road I took to my heels and ran. The clock at Euston Station +showed five minutes past the hour. At St Pancras I had no time to +take a ticket, let alone that I had not settled upon my destination. A +porter told me the platform, and as I entered it I saw the train +already in motion. Two station officials blocked the way, but I +dodged them and clambered into the last carriage. + +Three minutes later, as we were roaring through the northern +tunnels, an irate guard interviewed me. He wrote out for me a +ticket to Newton-Stewart, a name which had suddenly come back +to my memory, and he conducted me from the first-class compartment +where I had ensconced myself to a third-class smoker, +occupied by a sailor and a stout woman with a child. He went off +grumbling, and as I mopped my brow I observed to my companions +in my broadest Scots that it was a sore job catching trains. I had +already entered upon my part. + +'The impidence o' that gyaird!' said the lady bitterly. 'He needit a +Scotch tongue to pit him in his place. He was complainin' o' this +wean no haein' a ticket and her no fower till August twalmonth, +and he was objectin' to this gentleman spittin'.' + +The sailor morosely agreed, and I started my new life in an +atmosphere of protest against authority. I reminded myself that a +week ago I had been finding the world dull. + + +CHAPTER THREE +The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper + + +I had a solemn time travelling north that day. It was fine May +weather, with the hawthorn flowering on every hedge, and I asked +myself why, when I was still a free man, I had stayed on in London +and not got the good of this heavenly country. I didn't dare face +the restaurant car, but I got a luncheon-basket at Leeds and shared +it with the fat woman. Also I got the morning's papers, with news +about starters for the Derby and the beginning of the cricket season, +and some paragraphs about how Balkan affairs were settling down +and a British squadron was going to Kiel. + +When I had done with them I got out Scudder's little black +pocket-book and studied it. It was pretty well filled with jottings, +chiefly figures, though now and then a name was printed in. For +example, I found the words 'Hofgaard', 'Luneville', and 'Avocado' +pretty often, and especially the word 'Pavia'. + +Now I was certain that Scudder never did anything without a +reason, and I was pretty sure that there was a cypher in all this. +That is a subject which has always interested me, and I did a bit +at it myself once as intelligence officer at Delagoa Bay during the +Boer War. I have a head for things like chess and puzzles, and I +used to reckon myself pretty good at finding out cyphers. This one +looked like the numerical kind where sets of figures correspond to +the letters of the alphabet, but any fairly shrewd man can find the +clue to that sort after an hour or two's work, and I didn't think +Scudder would have been content with anything so easy. So I +fastened on the printed words, for you can make a pretty good +numerical cypher if you have a key word which gives you the +sequence of the letters. + +I tried for hours, but none of the words answered. Then I fell +asleep and woke at Dumfries just in time to bundle out and get into +the slow Galloway train. There was a man on the platform whose +looks I didn't like, but he never glanced at me, and when I caught +sight of myself in the mirror of an automatic machine I didn't +wonder. With my brown face, my old tweeds, and my slouch, I was +the very model of one of the hill farmers who were crowding into +the third-class carriages. + +I travelled with half a dozen in an atmosphere of shag and clay +pipes. They had come from the weekly market, and their mouths +were full of prices. I heard accounts of how the lambing had gone +up the Cairn and the Deuch and a dozen other mysterious waters. +Above half the men had lunched heavily and were highly flavoured +with whisky, but they took no notice of me. We rumbled slowly +into a land of little wooded glens and then to a great wide moorland +place, gleaming with lochs, with high blue hills showing northwards. + +About five o'clock the carriage had emptied, and I was left alone +as I had hoped. I got out at the next station, a little place whose +name I scarcely noted, set right in the heart of a bog. It reminded +me of one of those forgotten little stations in the Karroo. An old +station-master was digging in his garden, and with his spade over +his shoulder sauntered to the train, took charge of a parcel, and +went back to his potatoes. A child of ten received my ticket, and I +emerged on a white road that straggled over the brown moor. + +It was a gorgeous spring evening, with every hill showing as +clear as a cut amethyst. The air had the queer, rooty smell of bogs, +but it was as fresh as mid-ocean, and it had the strangest effect on +my spirits. I actually felt light-hearted. I might have been a boy out +for a spring holiday tramp, instead of a man of thirty-seven very +much wanted by the police. I felt just as I used to feel when I was +starting for a big trek on a frosty morning on the high veld. If you +believe me, I swung along that road whistling. There was no plan +of campaign in my head, only just to go on and on in this blessed, +honest-smelling hill country, for every mile put me in better humour +with myself. + +In a roadside planting I cut a walking-stick of hazel, and presently +struck off the highway up a bypath which followed the glen of a +brawling stream. I reckoned that I was still far ahead of any pursuit, +and for that night might please myself. It was some hours since I +had tasted food, and I was getting very hungry when I came to a +herd's cottage set in a nook beside a waterfall. A brown-faced +woman was standing by the door, and greeted me with the kindly +shyness of moorland places. When I asked for a night's lodging she +said I was welcome to the 'bed in the loft', and very soon she set +before me a hearty meal of ham and eggs, scones, and thick sweet milk. + +At the darkening her man came in from the hills, a lean giant, +who in one step covered as much ground as three paces of ordinary +mortals. They asked me no questions, for they had the perfect +breeding of all dwellers in the wilds, but I could see they set me +down as a kind of dealer, and I took some trouble to confirm their +view. I spoke a lot about cattle, of which my host knew little, and I +picked up from him a good deal about the local Galloway markets, +which I tucked away in my memory for future use. At ten I was +nodding in my chair, and the 'bed in the loft' received a weary man +who never opened his eyes till five o'clock set the little homestead +a-going once more. + +They refused any payment, and by six I had breakfasted and was +striding southwards again. My notion was to return to the railway +line a station or two farther on than the place where I had alighted +yesterday and to double back. I reckoned that that was the safest +way, for the police would naturally assume that I was always making +farther from London in the direction of some western port. I +thought I had still a good bit of a start, for, as I reasoned, it would +take some hours to fix the blame on me, and several more to +identify the fellow who got on board the train at St Pancras. + +It was the same jolly, clear spring weather, and I simply could +not contrive to feel careworn. Indeed I was in better spirits than I +had been for months. Over a long ridge of moorland I took my +road, skirting the side of a high hill which the herd had called +Cairnsmore of Fleet. Nesting curlews and plovers were crying everywhere, +and the links of green pasture by the streams were dotted +with young lambs. All the slackness of the past months was slipping +from my bones, and I stepped out like a four-year-old. By-and-by I +came to a swell of moorland which dipped to the vale of a little +river, and a mile away in the heather I saw the smoke of a train. + +The station, when I reached it, proved to be ideal for my purpose. +The moor surged up around it and left room only for the single +line, the slender siding, a waiting-room, an office, the station- +master's cottage, and a tiny yard of gooseberries and sweet-william. +There seemed no road to it from anywhere, and to increase the +desolation the waves of a tarn lapped on their grey granite beach +half a mile away. I waited in the deep heather till I saw the smoke +of an east-going train on the horizon. Then I approached the tiny +booking-office and took a ticket for Dumfries. + +The only occupants of the carriage were an old shepherd and his +dog--a wall-eyed brute that I mistrusted. The man was asleep, and +on the cushions beside him was that morning's SCOTSMAN. Eagerly I +seized on it, for I fancied it would tell me something. + +There were two columns about the Portland Place Murder, as it +was called. My man Paddock had given the alarm and had the milkman +arrested. Poor devil, it looked as if the latter had earned his +sovereign hardly; but for me he had been cheap at the price, for he +seemed to have occupied the police for the better part of the day. In +the latest news I found a further instalment of the story. The milkman +had been released, I read, and the true criminal, about whose identity +the police were reticent, was believed to have got away from London +by one of the northern lines. There was a short note about me as the +owner of the flat. I guessed the police had stuck that in, as a clumsy +contrivance to persuade me that I was unsuspected. + +There was nothing else in the paper, nothing about foreign +politics or Karolides, or the things that had interested Scudder. I +laid it down, and found that we were approaching the station at +which I had got out yesterday. The potato-digging station-master +had been gingered up into some activity, for the west-going train +was waiting to let us pass, and from it had descended three men +who were asking him questions. I supposed that they were the local +police, who had been stirred up by Scotland Yard, and had traced +me as far as this one-horse siding. Sitting well back in the shadow I +watched them carefully. One of them had a book, and took down +notes. The old potato-digger seemed to have turned peevish, but +the child who had collected my ticket was talking volubly. All the +party looked out across the moor where the white road departed. I +hoped they were going to take up my tracks there. + +As we moved away from that station my companion woke up. +He fixed me with a wandering glance, kicked his dog viciously, and +inquired where he was. Clearly he was very drunk. + +'That's what comes o' bein' a teetotaller,' he observed in bitter +regret. + +I expressed my surprise that in him I should have met a blue- +ribbon stalwart. + +'Ay, but I'm a strong teetotaller,' he said pugnaciously. 'I took +the pledge last Martinmas, and I havena touched a drop o' whisky +sinsyne. Not even at Hogmanay, though I was sair temptit.' + +He swung his heels up on the seat, and burrowed a frowsy head +into the cushions. + +'And that's a' I get,' he moaned. 'A heid better than hell fire, and +twae een lookin' different ways for the Sabbath.' + +'What did it?' I asked. + +'A drink they ca' brandy. Bein' a teetotaller I keepit off the +whisky, but I was nip-nippin' a' day at this brandy, and I doubt I'll +no be weel for a fortnicht.' His voice died away into a splutter, and +sleep once more laid its heavy hand on him. + +My plan had been to get out at some station down the line, but +the train suddenly gave me a better chance, for it came to a standstill +at the end of a culvert which spanned a brawling porter-coloured +river. I looked out and saw that every carriage window was closed +and no human figure appeared in the landscape. So I opened the +door, and dropped quickly into the tangle of hazels which edged +the line. + +it would have been all right but for that infernal dog. Under the +impression that I was decamping with its master's belongings, it +started to bark, and all but got me by the trousers. This woke up +the herd, who stood bawling at the carriage door in the belief that I +had committed suicide. I crawled through the thicket, reached the +edge of the stream, and in cover of the bushes put a hundred yards +or so behind me. Then from my shelter I peered back, and saw the +guard and several passengers gathered round the open carriage +door and staring in my direction. I could not have made a more +public departure if I had left with a bugler and a brass band. + +Happily the drunken herd provided a diversion. He and his dog, +which was attached by a rope to his waist, suddenly cascaded out of +the carriage, landed on their heads on the track, and rolled some +way down the bank towards the water. In the rescue which followed +the dog bit somebody, for I could hear the sound of hard swearing. +Presently they had forgotten me, and when after a quarter of a +mile's crawl I ventured to look back, the train had started again and +was vanishing in the cutting. + +I was in a wide semicircle of moorland, with the brown river as +radius, and the high hills forming the northern circumference. There +was not a sign or sound of a human being, only the plashing water +and the interminable crying of curlews. Yet, oddly enough, for the +first time I felt the terror of the hunted on me. It was not the police +that I thought of, but the other folk, who knew that I knew +Scudder's secret and dared not let me live. I was certain that they +would pursue me with a keenness and vigilance unknown to the +British law, and that once their grip closed on me I should find +no mercy. + +I looked back, but there was nothing in the landscape. The sun +glinted on the metals of the line and the wet stones in the stream, +and you could not have found a more peaceful sight in the world. +Nevertheless I started to run. Crouching low in the runnels of the +bog, I ran till the sweat blinded my eyes. The mood did not leave +me till I had reached the rim of mountain and flung myself panting +on a ridge high above the young waters of the brown river. + +From my vantage-ground I could scan the whole moor right +away to the railway line and to the south of it where green fields +took the place of heather. I have eyes like a hawk, but I could see +nothing moving in the whole countryside. Then I looked east +beyond the ridge and saw a new kind of landscape--shallow green +valleys with plentiful fir plantations and the faint lines of dust +which spoke of highroads. Last of all I looked into the blue May +sky, and there I saw that which set my pulses racing ... + +Low down in the south a monoplane was climbing into the +heavens. I was as certain as if I had been told that that aeroplane +was looking for me, and that it did not belong to the police. For an +hour or two I watched it from a pit of heather. It flew low along +the hill-tops, and then in narrow circles over the valley up which I +had come' Then it seemed to change its mind, rose to a great +height, and flew away back to the south. + +I did not like this espionage from the air, and I began to think +less well of the countryside I had chosen for a refuge. These +heather hills were no sort of cover if my enemies were in the sky, +and I must find a different kind of sanctuary. I looked with more +satisfaction to the green country beyond the ridge, for there I +should find woods and stone houses. + +About six in the evening I came out of the moorland to a white +ribbon of road which wound up the narrow vale of a lowland +stream. As I followed it, fields gave place to bent, the glen became +a plateau, and presently I had reached a kind of pass where a +solitary house smoked in the twilight. The road swung over a +bridge, and leaning on the parapet was a young man. + +He was smoking a long clay pipe and studying the water with +spectacled eyes. In his left hand was a small book with a finger +marking the place. Slowly he repeated-- + + As when a Gryphon through the wilderness + With winged step, o'er hill and moory dale + Pursues the Arimaspian. + +He jumped round as my step rung on the keystone, and I saw a +pleasant sunburnt boyish face. + +'Good evening to you,' he said gravely. 'It's a fine night for +the road.' + +The smell of peat smoke and of some savoury roast floated to me +from the house. + +'Is that place an inn?' I asked. + +'At your service,' he said politely. 'I am the landlord, Sir, and I +hope you will stay the night, for to tell you the truth I have had no +company for a week.' + +I pulled myself up on the parapet of the bridge and filled my +pipe. I began to detect an ally. + +'You're young to be an innkeeper,' I said. + +'My father died a year ago and left me the business. I live there +with my grandmother. It's a slow job for a young man, and it +wasn't my choice of profession.' + +'Which was?' + +He actually blushed. 'I want to write books,' he said. + +'And what better chance could you ask?' I cried. 'Man, I've often +thought that an innkeeper would make the best story-teller in the world.' + +'Not now,' he said eagerly. 'Maybe in the old days when you had +pilgrims and ballad-makers and highwaymen and mail-coaches on +the road. But not now. Nothing comes here but motor-cars full of +fat women, who stop for lunch, and a fisherman or two in the +spring, and the shooting tenants in August. There is not much +material to be got out of that. I want to see life, to travel the world, +and write things like Kipling and Conrad. But the most I've done +yet is to get some verses printed in CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL.' +I looked at the inn standing golden in the sunset against the +brown hills. + +'I've knocked a bit about the world, and I wouldn't despise such +a hermitage. D'you think that adventure is found only in the tropics +or among gentry in red shirts? Maybe you're rubbing shoulders +with it at this moment.' + +'That's what Kipling says,' he said, his eyes brightening, and he +quoted some verse about 'Romance bringing up the 9.15'. + +'Here's a true tale for you then,' I cried, 'and a month from now +you can make a novel out of it.' + +Sitting on the bridge in the soft May gloaming I pitched him a +lovely yarn. It was true in essentials, too, though I altered the +minor details. I made out that I was a mining magnate from Kimberley, +who had had a lot of trouble with I.D.B. and had shown up a gang. +They had pursued me across the ocean, and had killed my best friend, and +were now on my tracks. + +I told the story well, though I say it who shouldn't. I pictured a +flight across the Kalahari to German Africa, the crackling, parching +days, the wonderful blue-velvet nights. I described an attack on my +life on the voyage home, and I made a really horrid affair of the +Portland Place murder. 'You're looking for adventure,' I cried; +'well, you've found it here. The devils are after me, and the police +are after them. It's a race that I mean to win.' + +'By God!' he whispered, drawing his breath in sharply, 'it is all +pure Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.' + +'You believe me,' I said gratefully. + +'Of course I do,' and he held out his hand. 'I believe everything +out of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal.' + +He was very young, but he was the man for my money. + +'I think they're off my track for the moment, but I must lie close +for a couple of days. Can you take me in?' + +He caught my elbow in his eagerness and drew me towards the +house. 'You can lie as snug here as if you were in a moss-hole. I'll +see that nobody blabs, either. And you'll give me some more +material about your adventures?' + +As I entered the inn porch I heard from far off the beat of an +engine. There silhouetted against the dusky West was my friend, +the monoplane. + +He gave me a room at the back of the house, with a fine outlook +over the plateau, and he made me free of his own study, which was +stacked with cheap editions of his favourite authors. I never saw the +grandmother, so I guessed she was bedridden. An old woman called +Margit brought me my meals, and the innkeeper was around me at +all hours. I wanted some time to myself, so I invented a job for him. +He had a motor-bicycle, and I sent him off next morning for the daily +paper, which usually arrived with the post in the late afternoon. I +told him to keep his eyes skinned, and make note of any strange +figures he saw, keeping a special sharp look-out for motors and +aeroplanes. Then I sat down in real earnest to Scudder's note-book. + +He came back at midday with the SCOTSMAN. There was nothing in +it, except some further evidence of Paddock and the milkman, and a +repetition of yesterday's statement that the murderer had gone +North. But there was a long article, reprinted from THE TIMES, about +Karolides and the state of affairs in the Balkans, though there was no +mention of any visit to England. I got rid of the innkeeper for the +afternoon, for I was getting very warm in my search for the cypher. + +As I told you, it was a numerical cypher, and by an elaborate +system of experiments I had pretty well discovered what were the +nulls and stops. The trouble was the key word, and when I thought +of the odd million words he might have used I felt pretty hopeless. +But about three o'clock I had a sudden inspiration. + +The name Julia Czechenyi flashed across my memory. Scudder +had said it was the key to the Karolides business, and it occurred to +me to try it on his cypher. + +It worked. The five letters of 'Julia' gave me the position of the +vowels. A was J, the tenth letter of the alphabet, and so represented +by X in the cypher. E was XXI, and so on. 'Czechenyi' gave +me the numerals for the principal consonants. I scribbled that +scheme on a bit of paper and sat down to read Scudder's pages. + +In half an hour I was reading with a whitish face and fingers that +drummed on the table. + +I glanced out of the window and saw a big touring-car coming +up the glen towards the inn. It drew up at the door, and there was +the sound of people alighting. There seemed to be two of them, +men in aquascutums and tweed caps. + +Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes +bright with excitement. + +'There's two chaps below looking for you,' he whispered. +'They're in the dining-room having whiskies-and-sodas. They asked +about you and said they had hoped to meet you here. Oh! and they +described you jolly well, down to your boots and shirt. I told them +you had been here last night and had gone off on a motor bicycle +this morning, and one of the chaps swore like a navvy.' + +I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed +thin fellow with bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and +lisped in his talk. Neither was any kind of foreigner; on this my +young friend was positive. + +I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they +were part of a letter-- + + ... 'Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not + act for a fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially + as Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises + I will do the best I ...' + +I manufactured it rather neatly, so that it looked like a loose page +of a private letter. + +'Take this down and say it was found in my bedroom, and ask +them to return it to me if they overtake me.' + +Three minutes later I heard the car begin to move, and peeping +from behind the curtain caught sight of the two figures. One was +slim, the other was sleek; that was the most I could make of my +reconnaissance. + +The innkeeper appeared in great excitement. 'Your paper woke +them up,' he said gleefully. 'The dark fellow went as white as death +and cursed like blazes, and the fat one whistled and looked ugly. +They paid for their drinks with half-a-sovereign and wouldn't wait +for change.' + +'Now I'll tell you what I want you to do,' I said. 'Get on your +bicycle and go off to Newton-Stewart to the Chief Constable. Describe +the two men, and say you suspect them of having had something to do +with the London murder. You can invent reasons. The two will come back, +never fear. Not tonight, for they'll follow me forty miles along the +road, but first thing tomorrow morning. Tell the police to be here +bright and early.' + +He set off like a docile child, while I worked at Scudder's notes. +When he came back we dined together, and in common decency I +had to let him pump me. I gave him a lot of stuff about lion hunts +and the Matabele War, thinking all the while what tame businesses +these were compared to this I was now engaged in! When he went +to bed I sat up and finished Scudder. I smoked in a chair till +daylight, for I could not sleep. + +About eight next morning I witnessed the arrival of two +constables and a sergeant. They put their car in a coach-house under the +innkeeper's instructions, and entered the house. Twenty minutes +later I saw from my window a second car come across the plateau +from the opposite direction. It did not come up to the inn, but +stopped two hundred yards off in the shelter of a patch of wood. I +noticed that its occupants carefully reversed it before leaving it. A +minute or two later I heard their steps on the gravel outside the window. + +My plan had been to lie hid in my bedroom, and see what +happened. I had a notion that, if I could bring the police and my +other more dangerous pursuers together, something might work +out of it to my advantage. But now I had a better idea. I scribbled a +line of thanks to my host, opened the window, and dropped quietly +into a gooseberry bush. Unobserved I crossed the dyke, crawled +down the side of a tributary burn, and won the highroad on the far +side of the patch of trees. There stood the car, very spick and span +in the morning sunlight, but with the dust on her which told of a +long journey. I started her, jumped into the chauffeur's seat, and +stole gently out on to the plateau. + +Almost at once the road dipped so that I lost sight of the inn, +but the wind seemed to bring me the sound of angry voices. + + +CHAPTER FOUR +The Adventure of the Radical Candidate + +You may picture me driving that 40 h.p. car for all she was worth +over the crisp moor roads on that shining May morning; glancing +back at first over my shoulder, and looking anxiously to the next +turning; then driving with a vague eye, just wide enough awake to +keep on the highway. For I was thinking desperately of what I had +found in Scudder's pocket-book. + +The little man had told me a pack of lies. All his yarns about the +Balkans and the Jew-Anarchists and the Foreign Office Conference +were eyewash, and so was Karolides. And yet not quite, as you +shall hear. I had staked everything on my belief in his story, and +had been let down; here was his book telling me a different tale, +and instead of being once-bitten-twice-shy, I believed it absolutely. + +Why, I don't know. It rang desperately true, and the first yarn, if +you understand me, had been in a queer way true also in spirit. The +fifteenth day of June was going to be a day of destiny, a bigger +destiny than the killing of a Dago. It was so big that I didn't blame +Scudder for keeping me out of the game and wanting to play a lone +hand. That, I was pretty clear, was his intention. He had told me +something which sounded big enough, but the real thing was so +immortally big that he, the man who had found it out, wanted it all +for himself. I didn't blame him. It was risks after all that he was +chiefly greedy about. + +The whole story was in the notes--with gaps, you understand, +which he would have filled up from his memory. He stuck down +his authorities, too, and had an odd trick of giving them all a +numerical value and then striking a balance, which stood for the +reliability of each stage in the yarn. The four names he had printed +were authorities, and there was a man, Ducrosne, who got five out +of a possible five; and another fellow, Ammersfoort, who got three. +The bare bones of the tale were all that was in the book--these, +and one queer phrase which occurred half a dozen times inside +brackets. '(Thirty-nine steps)' was the phrase; and at its last time of +use it ran--'(Thirty-nine steps, I counted them--high tide 10.17 +p.m.)'. I could make nothing of that. + +The first thing I learned was that it was no question of preventing +a war. That was coming, as sure as Christmas: had been arranged, +said Scudder, ever since February 1912. Karolides was going to be +the occasion. He was booked all right, and was to hand in his +checks on June 14th, two weeks and four days from that May +morning. I gathered from Scudder's notes that nothing on earth +could prevent that. His talk of Epirote guards that would skin their +own grandmothers was all billy-o. + +The second thing was that this war was going to come as a +mighty surprise to Britain. Karolides' death would set the Balkans +by the ears, and then Vienna would chip in with an ultimatum. +Russia wouldn't like that, and there would be high words. But +Berlin would play the peacemaker, and pour oil on the waters, till +suddenly she would find a good cause for a quarrel, pick it up, and +in five hours let fly at us. That was the idea, and a pretty good one +too. Honey and fair speeches, and then a stroke in the dark. While +we were talking about the goodwill and good intentions of Germany +our coast would be silently ringed with mines, and submarines +would be waiting for every battleship. + +But all this depended upon the third thing, which was due to +happen on June 15th. I would never have grasped this if I hadn't +once happened to meet a French staff officer, coming back from +West Africa, who had told me a lot of things. One was that, in +spite of all the nonsense talked in Parliament, there was a real +working alliance between France and Britain, and that the two +General Staffs met every now and then, and made plans for joint +action in case of war. Well, in June a very great swell was coming +over from Paris, and he was going to get nothing less than a +statement of the disposition of the British Home Fleet on mobilization. +At least I gathered it was something like that; anyhow, it was +something uncommonly important. + +But on the 15th day of June there were to be others in London-- +others, at whom I could only guess. Scudder was content to call +them collectively the 'Black Stone'. They represented not our Allies, +but our deadly foes; and the information, destined for France, was +to be diverted to their pockets. And it was to be used, remember-- +used a week or two later, with great guns and swift torpedoes, +suddenly in the darkness of a summer night. + +This was the story I had been deciphering in a back room of a +country inn, overlooking a cabbage garden. This was the story that +hummed in my brain as I swung in the big touring-car from glen to glen. + +My first impulse had been to write a letter to the Prime Minister, +but a little reflection convinced me that that would be useless. Who +would believe my tale? I must show a sign, some token in proof, +and Heaven knew what that could be. Above all, I must keep going +myself, ready to act when things got riper, and that was going to be +no light job with the police of the British Isles in full cry after me +and the watchers of the Black Stone running silently and swiftly on +my trail. + +I had no very clear purpose in my journey, but I steered east by +the sun, for I remembered from the map that if I went north I +would come into a region of coalpits and industrial towns. Presently +I was down from the moorlands and traversing the broad haugh of +a river. For miles I ran alongside a park wall, and in a break of the +trees I saw a great castle. I swung through little old thatched +villages, and over peaceful lowland streams, and past gardens blazing +with hawthorn and yellow laburnum. The land was so deep in +peace that I could scarcely believe that somewhere behind me were +those who sought my life; ay, and that in a month's time, unless I +had the almightiest of luck, these round country faces would be +pinched and staring, and men would be lying dead in English fields. + +About mid-day I entered a long straggling village, and had a +mind to stop and eat. Half-way down was the Post Office, and on +the steps of it stood the postmistress and a policeman hard at work +conning a telegram. When they saw me they wakened up, and the +policeman advanced with raised hand, and cried on me to stop. + +I nearly was fool enough to obey. Then it flashed upon me that +the wire had to do with me; that my friends at the inn had come to an +understanding, and were united in desiring to see more of me, and +that it had been easy enough for them to wire the description of me +and the car to thirty villages through which I might pass. I released +the brakes just in time. As it was, the policeman made a claw at the +hood, and only dropped off when he got my left in his eye. + +I saw that main roads were no place for me, and turned into the +byways. It wasn't an easy job without a map, for there was the risk +of getting on to a farm road and ending in a duck-pond or a stable- +yard, and I couldn't afford that kind of delay. I began to see what +an ass I had been to steal the car. The big green brute would be the +safest kind of clue to me over the breadth of Scotland. If I left it +and took to my feet, it would be discovered in an hour or two and +I would get no start in the race. + +The immediate thing to do was to get to the loneliest roads. +These I soon found when I struck up a tributary of the big river, +and got into a glen with steep hills all about me, and a corkscrew +road at the end which climbed over a pass. Here I met nobody, but +it was taking me too far north, so I slewed east along a bad track +and finally struck a big double-line railway. Away below me I saw +another broadish valley, and it occurred to me that if I crossed it I +might find some remote inn to pass the night. The evening was now +drawing in, and I was furiously hungry, for I had eaten nothing since +breakfast except a couple of buns I had bought from a baker's cart. +just then I heard a noise in the sky, and lo and behold there was +that infernal aeroplane, flying low, about a dozen miles to the south +and rapidly coming towards me. + +I had the sense to remember that on a bare moor I was at the +aeroplane's mercy, and that my only chance was to get to the leafy +cover of the valley. Down the hill I went like blue lightning, +screwing my head round, whenever I dared, to watch that damned +flying machine. Soon I was on a road between hedges, and dipping +to the deep-cut glen of a stream. Then came a bit of thick wood +where I slackened speed. + +Suddenly on my left I heard the hoot of another car, and realized +to my horror that I was almost up on a couple of gate-posts through +which a private road debouched on the highway. My horn gave an +agonized roar, but it was too late. I clapped on my brakes, but my +impetus was too great, and there before me a car was sliding +athwart my course. In a second there would have been the deuce of +a wreck. I did the only thing possible, and ran slap into the hedge +on the right, trusting to find something soft beyond. + +But there I was mistaken. My car slithered through the hedge +like butter, and then gave a sickening plunge forward. I saw what +was coming, leapt on the seat and would have jumped out. But a +branch of hawthorn got me in the chest, lifted me up and held me, +while a ton or two of expensive metal slipped below me, bucked +and pitched, and then dropped with an almighty smash fifty feet to +the bed of the stream. + +Slowly that thorn let me go. I subsided first on the hedge, and then +very gently on a bower of nettles. As I scrambled to my feet a hand +took me by the arm, and a sympathetic and badly scared voice +asked me if I were hurt. + +I found myself looking at a tall young man in goggles and a +leather ulster, who kept on blessing his soul and whinnying +apologies. For myself, once I got my wind back, I was rather glad +than otherwise. This was one way of getting rid of the car. + +'My blame, Sir,' I answered him. 'It's lucky that I did not add +homicide to my follies. That's the end of my Scotch motor tour, +but it might have been the end of my life.' + +He plucked out a watch and studied it. 'You're the right sort of +fellow,' he said. 'I can spare a quarter of an hour, and my house is +two minutes off. I'll see you clothed and fed and snug in bed. +Where's your kit, by the way? Is it in the burn along with the car?' + +'It's in my pocket,' I said, brandishing a toothbrush. 'I'm a +Colonial and travel light.' + +'A Colonial,' he cried. 'By Gad, you're the very man I've been +praying for. Are you by any blessed chance a Free Trader?' + +'I am,' said I, without the foggiest notion of what he meant. + +He patted my shoulder and hurried me into his car. Three minutes +later we drew up before a comfortable-looking shooting box set +among pine-trees, and he ushered me indoors. He took me first to a +bedroom and flung half a dozen of his suits before me, for my own +had been pretty well reduced to rags. I selected a loose blue serge, +which differed most conspicuously from my former garments, and +borrowed a linen collar. Then he haled me to the dining-room, +where the remnants of a meal stood on the table, and announced +that I had just five minutes to feed. 'You can take a snack in your +pocket, and we'll have supper when we get back. I've got to be at +the Masonic Hall at eight o'clock, or my agent will comb my hair.' + +I had a cup of coffee and some cold ham, while he yarned away +on the hearth-rug. + +'You find me in the deuce of a mess, Mr--by-the-by, you +haven't told me your name. Twisdon? Any relation of old Tommy +Twisdon of the Sixtieth? No? Well, you see I'm Liberal Candidate +for this part of the world, and I had a meeting on tonight at +Brattleburn--that's my chief town, and an infernal Tory stronghold. +I had got the Colonial ex-Premier fellow, Crumpleton, coming to +speak for me tonight, and had the thing tremendously billed and +the whole place ground-baited. This afternoon I had a wire from +the ruffian saying he had got influenza at Blackpool, and here am I +left to do the whole thing myself. I had meant to speak for ten +minutes and must now go on for forty, and, though I've been +racking my brains for three hours to think of something, I simply +cannot last the course. Now you've got to be a good chap and help +me. You're a Free Trader and can tell our people what a wash-out +Protection is in the Colonies. All you fellows have the gift of the +gab--I wish to Heaven I had it. I'll be for evermore in your debt.' + +I had very few notions about Free Trade one way or the other, +but I saw no other chance to get what I wanted. My young gentleman +was far too absorbed in his own difficulties to think how odd +it was to ask a stranger who had just missed death by an ace and +had lost a 1,000-guinea car to address a meeting for him on the spur +of the moment. But my necessities did not allow me to contemplate +oddnesses or to pick and choose my supports. + +'All right,' I said. 'I'm not much good as a speaker, but I'll tell +them a bit about Australia.' + +At my words the cares of the ages slipped from his shoulders, +and he was rapturous in his thanks. He lent me a big driving coat-- +and never troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour +without possessing an ulster--and, as we slipped down the dusty +roads, poured into my ears the simple facts of his history. He was +an orphan, and his uncle had brought him up--I've forgotten the +uncle's name, but he was in the Cabinet, and you can read his +speeches in the papers. He had gone round the world after leaving +Cambridge, and then, being short of a job, his uncle had advised +politics. I gathered that he had no preference in parties. 'Good +chaps in both,' he said cheerfully, 'and plenty of blighters, too. I'm +Liberal, because my family have always been Whigs.' But if he was +lukewarm politically he had strong views on other things. He +found out I knew a bit about horses, and jawed away about the +Derby entries; and he was full of plans for improving his shooting. +Altogether, a very clean, decent, callow young man. + +As we passed through a little town two policemen signalled us to +stop, and flashed their lanterns on us. + +'Beg pardon, Sir Harry,' said one. 'We've got instructions to +look out for a car, and the description's no unlike yours.' + +'Right-o,' said my host, while I thanked Providence for the +devious ways I had been brought to safety. After that he spoke no +more, for his mind began to labour heavily with his coming speech. +His lips kept muttering, his eye wandered, and I began to prepare +myself for a second catastrophe. I tried to think of something to say +myself, but my mind was dry as a stone. The next thing I knew we +had drawn up outside a door in a street, and were being welcomed +by some noisy gentlemen with rosettes. +The hall had about five hundred in it, women mostly, a lot of +bald heads, and a dozen or two young men. The chairman, a +weaselly minister with a reddish nose, lamented Crumpleton's absence, +soliloquized on his influenza, and gave me a certificate as a +'trusted leader of Australian thought'. There were two policemen at +the door, and I hoped they took note of that testimonial. Then Sir +Harry started. + +I never heard anything like it. He didn't begin to know how to +talk. He had about a bushel of notes from which he read, and when +he let go of them he fell into one prolonged stutter. Every now and +then he remembered a phrase he had learned by heart, straightened +his back, and gave it off like Henry Irving, and the next moment he +was bent double and crooning over his papers. It was the most +appalling rot, too. He talked about the 'German menace', and said +it was all a Tory invention to cheat the poor of their rights and +keep back the great flood of social reform, but that 'organized +labour' realized this and laughed the Tories to scorn. He was all for +reducing our Navy as a proof of our good faith, and then sending +Germany an ultimatum telling her to do the same or we would +knock her into a cocked hat. He said that, but for the Tories, +Germany and Britain would be fellow-workers in peace and reform. +I thought of the little black book in my pocket! A giddy lot Scudder's +friends cared for peace and reform. + +Yet in a queer way I liked the speech. You could see the niceness +of the chap shining out behind the muck with which he had been +spoon-fed. Also it took a load off my mind. I mightn't be much of +an orator, but I was a thousand per cent better than Sir Harry. + +I didn't get on so badly when it came to my turn. I simply told +them all I could remember about Australia, praying there should be +no Australian there--all about its labour party and emigration and +universal service. I doubt if I remembered to mention Free Trade, +but I said there were no Tories in Australia, only Labour and +Liberals. That fetched a cheer, and I woke them up a bit when I +started in to tell them the kind of glorious business I thought could +be made out of the Empire if we really put our backs into it. + +Altogether I fancy I was rather a success. The minister didn't like +me, though, and when he proposed a vote of thanks, spoke of Sir +Harry's speech as 'statesmanlike' and mine as having 'the eloquence +of an emigration agent'. + +When we were in the car again my host was in wild spirits at +having got his job over. 'A ripping speech, Twisdon,' he said. +'Now, you're coming home with me. I'm all alone, and if you'll +stop a day or two I'll show you some very decent fishing.' + +We had a hot supper--and I wanted it pretty badly--and then +drank grog in a big cheery smoking-room with a crackling wood +fire. I thought the time had come for me to put my cards on the +table. I saw by this man's eye that he was the kind you can trust. + +'Listen, Sir Harry,' I said. 'I've something pretty important to +say to you. You're a good fellow, and I'm going to be frank. +Where on earth did you get that poisonous rubbish you talked tonight?' + +His face fell. 'Was it as bad as that?' he asked ruefully. 'It did +sound rather thin. I got most of it out of the PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE +and pamphlets that agent chap of mine keeps sending me. But you +surely don't think Germany would ever go to war with us?' + +'Ask that question in six weeks and it won't need an answer,' I +said. 'If you'll give me your attention for half an hour I am going +to tell you a story.' + +I can see yet that bright room with the deers' heads and the old +prints on the walls, Sir Harry standing restlessly on the stone curb +of the hearth, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. I +seemed to be another person, standing aside and listening to my +own voice, and judging carefully the reliability of my tale. It was +the first time I had ever told anyone the exact truth, so far as I +understood it, and it did me no end of good, for it straightened out +the thing in my own mind. I blinked no detail. He heard all about +Scudder, and the milkman, and the note-book, and my doings in +Galloway. Presently he got very excited and walked up and down +the hearth-rug. + +'So you see,' I concluded, 'you have got here in your house the +man that is wanted for the Portland Place murder. Your duty is to +send your car for the police and give me up. I don't think I'll get +very far. There'll be an accident, and I'll have a knife in my ribs an +hour or so after arrest. Nevertheless, it's your duty, as a law-abiding +citizen. Perhaps in a month's time you'll be sorry, but you have no +cause to think of that.' + +He was looking at me with bright steady eyes. 'What was your +job in Rhodesia, Mr Hannay?' he asked. + +'Mining engineer,' I said. 'I've made my pile cleanly and I've had +a good time in the making of it.' + +'Not a profession that weakens the nerves, is it?' + +I laughed. 'Oh, as to that, my nerves are good enough.' I took +down a hunting-knife from a stand on the wall, and did the old +Mashona trick of tossing it and catching it in my lips. That wants a +pretty steady heart. + +He watched me with a smile. 'I don't want proof. I may be an ass +on the platform, but I can size up a man. You're no murderer and +you're no fool, and I believe you are speaking the truth. I'm going +to back you up. Now, what can I do?' + +'First, I want you to write a letter to your uncle. I've got to get +in touch with the Government people sometime before the 15th of June.' + +He pulled his moustache. 'That won't help you. This is Foreign +Office business, and my uncle would have nothing to do with it. +Besides, you'd never convince him. No, I'll go one better. I'll write +to the Permanent Secretary at the Foreign Office. He's my godfather, +and one of the best going. What do you want?' + +He sat down at a table and wrote to my dictation. The gist of it +was that if a man called Twisdon (I thought I had better stick to +that name) turned up before June 15th he was to entreat him +kindly. He said Twisdon would prove his bona fides by passing the +word 'Black Stone' and whistling 'Annie Laurie'. + +'Good,' said Sir Harry. 'That's the proper style. By the way, +you'll find my godfather--his name's Sir Walter Bullivant--down +at his country cottage for Whitsuntide. It's close to Artinswell on +the Kenner. That's done. Now, what's the next thing?' + +'You're about my height. Lend me the oldest tweed suit you've +got. Anything will do, so long as the colour is the opposite of the +clothes I destroyed this afternoon. Then show me a map of the +neighbourhood and explain to me the lie of the land. Lastly, if +the police come seeking me, just show them the car in the glen. If +the other lot turn up, tell them I caught the south express after your +meeting.' + +He did, or promised to do, all these things. I shaved off the +remnants of my moustache, and got inside an ancient suit of what I +believe is called heather mixture. The map gave me some notion of +my whereabouts, and told me the two things I wanted to know-- +where the main railway to the south could be joined and what were +the wildest districts near at hand. +At two o'clock he wakened me from my slumbers in the +smoking-room armchair, and led me blinking into the dark starry +night. An old bicycle was found in a tool-shed and handed over to me. + +'First turn to the right up by the long fir-wood,' he enjoined. 'By +daybreak you'll be well into the hills. Then I should pitch the +machine into a bog and take to the moors on foot. You can put in a +week among the shepherds, and be as safe as if you were in New +Guinea.' + +I pedalled diligently up steep roads of hill gravel till the skies +grew pale with morning. As the mists cleared before the sun, I +found myself in a wide green world with glens falling on every side +and a far-away blue horizon. Here, at any rate, I could get early +news of my enemies. + + +CHAPTER FIVE +The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman + + +I sat down on the very crest of the pass and took stock of my position. + +Behind me was the road climbing through a long cleft in the +hills, which was the upper glen of some notable river. In front was +a flat space of maybe a mile, all pitted with bog-holes and rough +with tussocks, and then beyond it the road fell steeply down another +glen to a plain whose blue dimness melted into the distance. To left +and right were round-shouldered green hills as smooth as pancakes, +but to the south--that is, the left hand--there was a glimpse of +high heathery mountains, which I remembered from the map as the +big knot of hill which I had chosen for my sanctuary. I was on the +central boss of a huge upland country, and could see everything +moving for miles. In the meadows below the road half a mile back +a cottage smoked, but it was the only sign of human life. Otherwise +there was only the calling of plovers and the tinkling of little streams. + +It was now about seven o'clock, and as I waited I heard once +again that ominous beat in the air. Then I realized that my vantage- +ground might be in reality a trap. There was no cover for a tomtit +in those bald green places. + +I sat quite still and hopeless while the beat grew louder. Then I +saw an aeroplane coming up from the east. It was flying high, but +as I looked it dropped several hundred feet and began to circle +round the knot of hill in narrowing circles, just as a hawk wheels +before it pounces. Now it was flying very low, and now the observer +on board caught sight of me. I could see one of the two occupants +examining me through glasses. + +Suddenly it began to rise in swift whorls, and the next I knew +it was speeding eastward again till it became a speck in the +blue morning. + +That made me do some savage thinking. My enemies had located +me, and the next thing would be a cordon round me. I didn't know +what force they could command, but I was certain it would be +sufficient. The aeroplane had seen my bicycle, and would conclude +that I would try to escape by the road. In that case there might be a +chance on the moors to the right or left. I wheeled the machine a +hundred yards from the highway, and plunged it into a moss-hole, +where it sank among pond-weed and water-buttercups. Then I +climbed to a knoll which gave me a view of the two valleys. +Nothing was stirring on the long white ribbon that threaded them. + +I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat. +As the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had +the fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I +would have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The +free moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the +breath of a dungeon. + +I tossed a coin--heads right, tails left--and it fell heads, so I +turned to the north. In a little I came to the brow of the ridge +which was the containing wall of the pass. I saw the highroad for +maybe ten miles, and far down it something that was moving, and +that I took to be a motor-car. Beyond the ridge I looked on a +rolling green moor, which fell away into wooded glens. + +Now my life on the veld has given me the eyes of a kite, and I +can see things for which most men need a telescope ... Away +down the slope, a couple of miles away, several men were advancing. +like a row of beaters at a shoot ... + +I dropped out of sight behind the sky-line. That way was shut to +me, and I must try the bigger hills to the south beyond the highway. +The car I had noticed was getting nearer, but it was still a long way +off with some very steep gradients before it. I ran hard, crouching +low except in the hollows, and as I ran I kept scanning the brow of +the hill before me. Was it imagination, or did I see figures--one, +two, perhaps more--moving in a glen beyond the stream? + +If you are hemmed in on all sides in a patch of land there is only +one chance of escape. You must stay in the patch, and let your +enemies search it and not find you. That was good sense, but how +on earth was I to escape notice in that table-cloth of a place? I +would have buried myself to the neck in mud or lain below water +or climbed the tallest tree. But there was not a stick of wood, the +bog-holes were little puddles, the stream was a slender trickle. There +was nothing but short heather, and bare hill bent, and the white highway. + +Then in a tiny bight of road, beside a heap of stones, I found +the roadman. + +He had just arrived, and was wearily flinging down his hammer. +He looked at me with a fishy eye and yawned. + +'Confoond the day I ever left the herdin'!' he said, as if to the +world at large. 'There I was my ain maister. Now I'm a slave to the +Goavernment, tethered to the roadside, wi' sair een, and a back like +a suckle.' + +He took up the hammer, struck a stone, dropped the implement +with an oath, and put both hands to his ears. 'Mercy on me! My +heid's burstin'!' he cried. + +He was a wild figure, about my own size but much bent, with a +week's beard on his chin, and a pair of big horn spectacles. + +'I canna dae't,' he cried again. 'The Surveyor maun just report +me. I'm for my bed.' + +I asked him what was the trouble, though indeed that was +clear enough. + +'The trouble is that I'm no sober. Last nicht my dochter Merran +was waddit, and they danced till fower in the byre. Me and some +ither chiels sat down to the drinkin', and here I am. Peety that I +ever lookit on the wine when it was red!' + +I agreed with him about bed. +'It's easy speakin',' he moaned. 'But I got a postcard yestreen +sayin' that the new Road Surveyor would be round the day. He'll +come and he'll no find me, or else he'll find me fou, and either way +I'm a done man. I'll awa' back to my bed and say I'm no weel, but +I doot that'll no help me, for they ken my kind o' no-weel-ness.' + +Then I had an inspiration. 'Does the new Surveyor know you?' +I asked. + +'No him. He's just been a week at the job. He rins about in a wee +motor-cawr, and wad speir the inside oot o' a whelk.' + +'Where's your house?' I asked, and was directed by a wavering +finger to the cottage by the stream. + +'Well, back to your bed,' I said, 'and sleep in peace. I'll take on +your job for a bit and see the Surveyor.' + +He stared at me blankly; then, as the notion dawned on his +fuddled brain, his face broke into the vacant drunkard's smile. + +'You're the billy,' he cried. 'It'll be easy eneuch managed. I've +finished that bing o' stanes, so you needna chap ony mair this +forenoon. Just take the barry, and wheel eneuch metal frae yon +quarry doon the road to mak anither bing the morn. My name's +Alexander Turnbull, and I've been seeven year at the trade, and +twenty afore that herdin' on Leithen Water. My freens ca' me Ecky, +and whiles Specky, for I wear glesses, being waik i' the sicht. Just +you speak the Surveyor fair, and ca' him Sir, and he'll be fell +pleased. I'll be back or mid-day.' + +I borrowed his spectacles and filthy old hat; stripped off coat, +waistcoat, and collar, and gave him them to carry home; borrowed, +too, the foul stump of a clay pipe as an extra property. He indicated +my simple tasks, and without more ado set off at an amble bedwards. +Bed may have been his chief object, but I think there was +also something left in the foot of a bottle. I prayed that he might be +safe under cover before my friends arrived on the scene. + +Then I set to work to dress for the part. I opened the collar of +my shirt--it was a vulgar blue-and-white check such as ploughmen +wear--and revealed a neck as brown as any tinker's. I rolled up my +sleeves, and there was a forearm which might have been a blacksmith's, +sunburnt and rough with old scars. I got my boots and trouser-legs +all white from the dust of the road, and hitched up my trousers, +tying them with string below the knee. Then I set to work on my face. +With a handful of dust I made a water-mark round my neck, the place +where Mr Turnbull's Sunday ablutions might be expected to stop. +I rubbed a good deal of dirt also into the sunburn of my cheeks. +A roadman's eyes would no doubt be a little inflamed, so I contrived +to get some dust in both of mine, and by dint of vigorous rubbing +produced a bleary effect. + +The sandwiches Sir Harry had given me had gone off with my +coat, but the roadman's lunch, tied up in a red handkerchief, was at +my disposal. I ate with great relish several of the thick slabs of +scone and cheese and drank a little of the cold tea. In the handkerchief +was a local paper tied with string and addressed to Mr Turnbull-- +obviously meant to solace his mid-day leisure. I did up the +bundle again, and put the paper conspicuously beside it. + +My boots did not satisfy me, but by dint of kicking among the +stones I reduced them to the granite-like surface which marks a +roadman's foot-gear. Then I bit and scraped my finger-nails till the +edges were all cracked and uneven. The men I was matched against +would miss no detail. I broke one of the bootlaces and retied it in a +clumsy knot, and loosed the other so that my thick grey socks +bulged over the uppers. Still no sign of anything on the road. The +motor I had observed half an hour ago must have gone home. + +My toilet complete, I took up the barrow and began my journeys +to and from the quarry a hundred yards off. + +I remember an old scout in Rhodesia, who had done many queer +things in his day, once telling me that the secret of playing a part +was to think yourself into it. You could never keep it up, he said, +unless you could manage to convince yourself that you were it. So I +shut off all other thoughts and switched them on to the road- +mending. I thought of the little white cottage as my home, I +recalled the years I had spent herding on Leithen Water, I made my +mind dwell lovingly on sleep in a box-bed and a bottle of cheap +whisky. Still nothing appeared on that long white road. + +Now and then a sheep wandered off the heather to stare at me. A +heron flopped down to a pool in the stream and started to fish, +taking no more notice of me than if I had been a milestone. On I +went, trundling my loads of stone, with the heavy step of the +professional. Soon I grew warm, and the dust on my face changed +into solid and abiding grit. I was already counting the hours till +evening should put a limit to Mr Turnbull's monotonous toil. +Suddenly a crisp voice spoke from the road, and looking up I +saw a little Ford two-seater, and a round-faced young man in a +bowler hat. + +'Are you Alexander Turnbull?' he asked. 'I am the new County +Road Surveyor. You live at Blackhopefoot, and have charge of the +section from Laidlawbyres to the Riggs? Good! A fair bit of road, +Turnbull, and not badly engineered. A little soft about a mile off, +and the edges want cleaning. See you look after that. Good morning. +You'll know me the next time you see me.' + +Clearly my get-up was good enough for the dreaded Surveyor. I +went on with my work, and as the morning grew towards noon I +was cheered by a little traffic. A baker's van breasted the hill, and +sold me a bag of ginger biscuits which I stowed in my trouser- +pockets against emergencies. Then a herd passed with sheep, and +disturbed me somewhat by asking loudly, 'What had become o' Specky?' + +'In bed wi' the colic,' I replied, and the herd passed on ... +just about mid-day a big car stole down the hill, glided past and +drew up a hundred yards beyond. Its three occupants descended as +if to stretch their legs, and sauntered towards me. + +Two of the men I had seen before from the window of the +Galloway inn--one lean, sharp, and dark, the other comfortable +and smiling. The third had the look of a countryman--a vet, +perhaps, or a small farmer. He was dressed in ill-cut knickerbockers, +and the eye in his head was as bright and wary as a hen's. + +'Morning,' said the last. 'That's a fine easy job o' yours.' + +I had not looked up on their approach, and now, when accosted, +I slowly and painfully straightened my back, after the manner of +roadmen; spat vigorously, after the manner of the low Scot; and +regarded them steadily before replying. I confronted three pairs of +eyes that missed nothing. + +'There's waur jobs and there's better,' I said sententiously. 'I wad +rather hae yours, sittin' a' day on your hinderlands on thae cushions. +It's you and your muckle cawrs that wreck my roads! If we a' had +oor richts, ye sud be made to mend what ye break.' + +The bright-eyed man was looking at the newspaper lying beside +Turnbull's bundle. + +'I see you get your papers in good time,' he said. + +I glanced at it casually. 'Aye, in gude time. Seein' that that paper +cam' out last Setterday I'm just Sax days late.' + +He picked it up, glanced at the superscription, and laid it down +again. One of the others had been looking at my boots, and a word +in German called the speaker's attention to them. + +'You've a fine taste in boots,' he said. 'These were never made +by a country shoemaker.' + +'They were not,' I said readily. 'They were made in London. I +got them frae the gentleman that was here last year for the shootin'. +What was his name now?' And I scratched a forgetful head. +Again the sleek one spoke in German. 'Let us get on,' he said. +'This fellow is all right.' + +They asked one last question. + +'Did you see anyone pass early this morning? He might be on a +bicycle or he might be on foot.' + +I very nearly fell into the trap and told a story of a bicyclist +hurrying past in the grey dawn. But I had the sense to see my +danger. I pretended to consider very deeply. + +'I wasna up very early,' I said. 'Ye see, my dochter was merrit +last nicht, and we keepit it up late. I opened the house door about +seeven and there was naebody on the road then. Since I cam' up +here there has just been the baker and the Ruchill herd, besides you +gentlemen.' + +One of them gave me a cigar, which I smelt gingerly and stuck +in Turnbull's bundle. They got into their car and were out of sight +in three minutes. + +My heart leaped with an enormous relief, but I went on wheeling +my stones. It was as well, for ten minutes later the car returned, one +of the occupants waving a hand to me. Those gentry left nothing +to chance. + +I finished Turnbull's bread and cheese, and pretty soon I had +finished the stones. The next step was what puzzled me. I could not +keep up this roadmaking business for long. A merciful Providence +had kept Mr Turnbull indoors, but if he appeared on the scene +there would be trouble. I had a notion that the cordon was still +tight round the glen, and that if I walked in any direction I should +meet with questioners. But get out I must. No man's nerve could +stand more than a day of being spied on. + +I stayed at my post till five o'clock. By that time I had resolved +to go down to Turnbull's cottage at nightfall and take my chance +of getting over the hills in the darkness. But suddenly a new car +came up the road, and slowed down a yard or two from me. A +fresh wind had risen, and the occupant wanted to light a cigarette. +It was a touring car, with the tonneau full of an assortment of +baggage. One man sat in it, and by an amazing chance I knew him. +His name was Marmaduke jopley, and he was an offence to creation. +He was a sort of blood stockbroker, who did his business by +toadying eldest sons and rich young peers and foolish old ladies. +'Marmie' was a familiar figure, I understood, at balls and polo- +weeks and country houses. He was an adroit scandal-monger, and +would crawl a mile on his belly to anything that had a title or a +million. I had a business introduction to his firm when I came to +London, and he was good enough to ask me to dinner at his club. +There he showed off at a great rate, and pattered about his duchesses +till the snobbery of the creature turned me sick. I asked a man +afterwards why nobody kicked him, and was told that Englishmen +reverenced the weaker sex. + +Anyhow there he was now, nattily dressed, in a fine new car, +obviously on his way to visit some of his smart friends. A sudden +daftness took me, and in a second I had jumped into the tonneau +and had him by the shoulder. + +'Hullo, jopley,' I sang out. 'Well met, my lad!' He got a horrid +fright. His chin dropped as he stared at me. 'Who the devil are +YOU?' he gasped. + +'My name's Hannay,' I said. 'From Rhodesia, you remember.' + +'Good God, the murderer!' he choked. + +'Just so. And there'll be a second murder, my dear, if you don't +do as I tell you. Give me that coat of yours. That cap, too.' + +He did as bid, for he was blind with terror. Over my dirty +trousers and vulgar shirt I put on his smart driving-coat, which +buttoned high at the top and thereby hid the deficiencies of my +collar. I stuck the cap on my head, and added his gloves to my get- +up. The dusty roadman in a minute was transformed into one of +the neatest motorists in Scotland. On Mr jopley's head I clapped +Turnbull's unspeakable hat, and told him to keep it there. + +Then with some difficulty I turned the car. My plan was to go +back the road he had come, for the watchers, having seen it before, +would probably let it pass unremarked, and Marmie's figure was in +no way like mine. + +'Now, my child,' I said, 'sit quite still and be a good boy. I mean +you no harm. I'm only borrowing your car for an hour or two. But +if you play me any tricks, and above all if you open your mouth, as +sure as there's a God above me I'll wring your neck. SAVEZ?' + +I enjoyed that evening's ride. We ran eight miles down the +valley, through a village or two, and I could not help noticing +several strange-looking folk lounging by the roadside. These were +the watchers who would have had much to say to me if I had come +in other garb or company. As it was, they looked incuriously on. +One touched his cap in salute, and I responded graciously. + +As the dark fell I turned up a side glen which, as I remember +from the map, led into an unfrequented corner of the hills. Soon +the villages were left behind, then the farms, and then even the +wayside cottage. Presently we came to a lonely moor where the +night was blackening the sunset gleam in the bog pools. Here we +stopped, and I obligingly reversed the car and restored to Mr +jopley his belongings. + +'A thousand thanks,' I said. 'There's more use in you than I +thought. Now be off and find the police.' + +As I sat on the hillside, watching the tail-light dwindle, I reflected +on the various kinds of crime I had now sampled. Contrary to +general belief, I was not a murderer, but I had become an unholy +liar, a shameless impostor, and a highwayman with a marked taste +for expensive motor-cars. + + +CHAPTER SIX +The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist + + +I spent the night on a shelf of the hillside, in the lee of a boulder +where the heather grew long and soft. It was a cold business, for I +had neither coat nor waistcoat. These were in Mr Turnbull's keeping, +as was Scudder's little book, my watch and--worst of all--my +pipe and tobacco pouch. Only my money accompanied me in my +belt, and about half a pound of ginger biscuits in my trousers pocket. + +I supped off half those biscuits, and by worming myself deep +into the heather got some kind of warmth. My spirits had risen, +and I was beginning to enjoy this crazy game of hide-and-seek. So +far I had been miraculously lucky. The milkman, the literary +innkeeper, Sir Harry, the roadman, and the idiotic Marmie, were all +pieces of undeserved good fortune. Somehow the first success gave +me a feeling that I was going to pull the thing through. + +My chief trouble was that I was desperately hungry. When a Jew +shoots himself in the City and there is an inquest, the newspapers +usually report that the deceased was 'well-nourished'. I remember +thinking that they would not call me well-nourished if I broke my +neck in a bog-hole. I lay and tortured myself--for the ginger +biscuits merely emphasized the aching void--with the memory of +all the good food I had thought so little of in London. There were +Paddock's crisp sausages and fragrant shavings of bacon, and +shapely poached eggs--how often I had turned up my nose at +them! There were the cutlets they did at the club, and a particular +ham that stood on the cold table, for which my soul lusted. My +thoughts hovered over all varieties of mortal edible, and finally +settled on a porterhouse steak and a quart of bitter with a welsh +rabbit to follow. In longing hopelessly for these dainties I +fell asleep. + +I woke very cold and stiff about an hour after dawn. It took me +a little while to remember where I was, for I had been very weary +and had slept heavily. I saw first the pale blue sky through a net of +heather, then a big shoulder of hill, and then my own boots placed +neatly in a blaeberry bush. I raised myself on my arms and looked +down into the valley, and that one look set me lacing up my boots +in mad haste. + +For there were men below, not more than a quarter of a mile off, +spaced out on the hillside like a fan, and beating the heather. +Marmie had not been slow in looking for his revenge. + +I crawled out of my shelf into the cover of a boulder, and from it +gained a shallow trench which slanted up the mountain face. This led +me presently into the narrow gully of a burn, by way of which I +scrambled to the top of the ridge. From there I looked back, and +saw that I was still undiscovered. My pursuers were patiently quartering +the hillside and moving upwards. + +Keeping behind the skyline I ran for maybe half a mile, till I +judged I was above the uppermost end of the glen. Then I showed +myself, and was instantly noted by one of the flankers, who passed +the word to the others. I heard cries coming up from below, and +saw that the line of search had changed its direction. I pretended to +retreat over the skyline, but instead went back the way I had come, +and in twenty minutes was behind the ridge overlooking my sleeping +place. From that viewpoint I had the satisfaction of seeing the +pursuit streaming up the hill at the top of the glen on a hopelessly +false scent. + +I had before me a choice of routes, and I chose a ridge which +made an angle with the one I was on, and so would soon put a +deep glen between me and my enemies. The exercise had warmed +my blood, and I was beginning to enjoy myself amazingly. As I +went I breakfasted on the dusty remnants of the ginger biscuits. + +I knew very little about the country, and I hadn't a notion what I +was going to do. I trusted to the strength of my legs, but I was +well aware that those behind me would be familiar with the lie of +the land, and that my ignorance would be a heavy handicap. I saw +in front of me a sea of hills, rising very high towards the south, but +northwards breaking down into broad ridges which separated wide +and shallow dales. The ridge I had chosen seemed to sink after a +mile or two to a moor which lay like a pocket in the uplands. That +seemed as good a direction to take as any other. + +My stratagem had given me a fair start--call it twenty minutes-- +and I had the width of a glen behind me before I saw the first heads +of the pursuers. The police had evidently called in local talent to +their aid, and the men I could see had the appearance of herds or +gamekeepers. They hallooed at the sight of me, and I waved my +hand. Two dived into the glen and began to climb my ridge, while +the others kept their own side of the hill. I felt as if I were taking +part in a schoolboy game of hare and hounds. + +But very soon it began to seem less of a game. Those fellows +behind were hefty men on their native heath. Looking back I saw +that only three were following direct, and I guessed that the others +had fetched a circuit to cut me off. My lack of local knowledge +might very well be my undoing, and I resolved to get out of this +tangle of glens to the pocket of moor I had seen from the tops. I +must so increase my distance as to get clear away from them, and I +believed I could do this if I could find the right ground for it. If +there had been cover I would have tried a bit of stalking, but on +these bare slopes you could see a fly a mile off. My hope must be in +the length of my legs and the soundness of my wind, but I needed +easier ground for that, for I was not bred a mountaineer. How I +longed for a good Afrikander pony! + +I put on a great spurt and got off my ridge and down into the +moor before any figures appeared on the skyline behind me. I +crossed a burn, and came out on a highroad which made a pass +between two glens. All in front of me was a big field of heather +sloping up to a crest which was crowned with an odd feather of +trees. In the dyke by the roadside was a gate, from which a grass- +grown track led over the first wave of the moor. + +I jumped the dyke and followed it, and after a few hundred yards +--as soon as it was out of sight of the highway--the grass stopped +and it became a very respectable road, which was evidently kept +with some care. Clearly it ran to a house, and I began to think of +doing the same. Hitherto my luck had held, and it might be that my +best chance would be found in this remote dwelling. Anyhow there +were trees there, and that meant cover. + +I did not follow the road, but the burnside which flanked it on +the right, where the bracken grew deep and the high banks made a +tolerable screen. It was well I did so, for no sooner had I gained the +hollow than, looking back, I saw the pursuit topping the ridge +from which I had descended. + +After that I did not look back; I had no time. I ran up the +burnside, crawling over the open places, and for a large part wading +in the shallow stream. I found a deserted cottage with a row of +phantom peat-stacks and an overgrown garden. Then I was among +young hay, and very soon had come to the edge of a plantation of +wind-blown firs. From there I saw the chimneys of the house smoking +a few hundred yards to my left. I forsook the burnside, crossed +another dyke, and almost before I knew was on a rough lawn. A +glance back told me that I was well out of sight of the pursuit, +which had not yet passed the first lift of the moor. + +The lawn was a very rough place, cut with a scythe instead of a +mower, and planted with beds of scrubby rhododendrons. A brace +of black-game, which are not usually garden birds, rose at my +approach. The house before me was the ordinary moorland farm, +with a more pretentious whitewashed wing added. Attached to this +wing was a glass veranda, and through the glass I saw the face of +an elderly gentleman meekly watching me. + +I stalked over the border of coarse hill gravel and entered the +open veranda door. Within was a pleasant room, glass on one side, +and on the other a mass of books. More books showed in an inner +room. On the floor, instead of tables, stood cases such as you see in +a museum, filled with coins and queer stone implements. + +There was a knee-hole desk in the middle, and seated at it, with +some papers and open volumes before him, was the benevolent old +gentleman. His face was round and shiny, like Mr Pickwick's, big +glasses were stuck on the end of his nose, and the top of his head +was as bright and bare as a glass bottle. He never moved when I +entered, but raised his placid eyebrows and waited on me to speak. + +It was not an easy job, with about five minutes to spare, to tell a +stranger who I was and what I wanted, and to win his aid. I did not +attempt it. There was something about the eye of the man before +me, something so keen and knowledgeable, that I could not find a +word. I simply stared at him and stuttered. + +'You seem in a hurry, my friend,'he said slowly. + +I nodded towards the window. It gave a prospect across the +moor through a gap in the plantation, and revealed certain figures +half a mile off straggling through the heather. + +'Ah, I see,' he said, and took up a pair of field-glasses through +which he patiently scrutinized the figures. + +'A fugitive from justice, eh? Well, we'll go into the matter at our +leisure. Meantime I object to my privacy being broken in upon by +the clumsy rural policeman. Go into my study, and you will see +two doors facing you. Take the one on the left and close it behind +you. You will be perfectly safe.' + +And this extraordinary man took up his pen again. + +I did as I was bid, and found myself in a little dark chamber +which smelt of chemicals, and was lit only by a tiny window high +up in the wall. The door had swung behind me with a click like the +door of a safe. Once again I had found an unexpected sanctuary. + +All the same I was not comfortable. There was something about +the old gentleman which puzzled and rather terrified me. He had +been too easy and ready, almost as if he had expected me. And his +eyes had been horribly intelligent. + +No sound came to me in that dark place. For all I knew the +police might be searching the house, and if they did they would +want to know what was behind this door. I tried to possess my soul +in patience, and to forget how hungry I was. + +Then I took a more cheerful view. The old gentleman could scarcely +refuse me a meal, and I fell to reconstructing my breakfast. Bacon +and eggs would content me, but I wanted the better part of a flitch +of bacon and half a hundred eggs. And then, while my mouth was +watering in anticipation, there was a click and the door stood open. + +I emerged into the sunlight to find the master of the house +sitting in a deep armchair in the room he called his study, and +regarding me with curious eyes. + +'Have they gone?' I asked. + +'They have gone. I convinced them that you had crossed the hill. +I do not choose that the police should come between me and one +whom I am delighted to honour. This is a lucky morning for you, +Mr Richard Hannay.' + +As he spoke his eyelids seemed to tremble and to fall a little over +his keen grey eyes. In a flash the phrase of Scudder's came back to +me, when he had described the man he most dreaded in the world. +He had said that he 'could hood his eyes like a hawk'. Then I saw +that I had walked straight into the enemy's headquarters. + +My first impulse was to throttle the old ruffian and make for the +open air. He seemed to anticipate my intention, for he smiled +gently, and nodded to the door behind me. + +I turned, and saw two men-servants who had me covered with pistols. + +He knew my name, but he had never seen me before. And as the +reflection darted across my mind I saw a slender chance. + +'I don't know what you mean,' I said roughly. 'And who are you +calling Richard Hannay? My name's Ainslie.' + +'So?' he said, still smiling. 'But of course you have others. We +won't quarrel about a name.' + +I was pulling myself together now, and I reflected that my garb, +lacking coat and waistcoat and collar, would at any rate not betray +me. I put on my surliest face and shrugged my shoulders. + +'I suppose you're going to give me up after all, and I call it a +damned dirty trick. My God, I wish I had never seen that cursed +motor-car! Here's the money and be damned to you,' and I flung four +sovereigns on the table. + +He opened his eyes a little. 'Oh no, I shall not give you up. My +friends and I will have a little private settlement with you, that is +all. You know a little too much, Mr Hannay. You are a clever +actor, but not quite clever enough.' + +He spoke with assurance, but I could see the dawning of a doubt +in his mind. + +'Oh, for God's sake stop jawing,' I cried. 'Everything's against +me. I haven't had a bit of luck since I came on shore at Leith. +What's the harm in a poor devil with an empty stomach picking up +some money he finds in a bust-up motor-car? That's all I done, and +for that I've been chivvied for two days by those blasted bobbies +over those blasted hills. I tell you I'm fair sick of it. You can do +what you like, old boy! Ned Ainslie's got no fight left in him.' + +I could see that the doubt was gaining. + +'Will you oblige me with the story of your recent doings?'he asked. +'I can't, guv'nor,' I said in a real beggar's whine. 'I've not had a +bite to eat for two days. Give me a mouthful of food, and then +you'll hear God's truth.' + +I must have showed my hunger in my face, for he signalled to +one of the men in the doorway. A bit of cold pie was brought and a +glass of beer, and I wolfed them down like a pig--or rather, like +Ned Ainslie, for I was keeping up my character. In the middle of +my meal he spoke suddenly to me in German, but I turned on him +a face as blank as a stone wall. + +Then I told him my story--how I had come off an Archangel +ship at Leith a week ago, and was making my way overland to my +brother at Wigtown. I had run short of cash--I hinted vaguely at a +spree--and I was pretty well on my uppers when I had come on a +hole in a hedge, and, looking through, had seen a big motor-car +lying in the burn. I had poked about to see what had happened, and +had found three sovereigns lying on the seat and one on the floor. +There was nobody there or any sign of an owner, so I had pocketed +the cash. But somehow the law had got after me. When I had tried +to change a sovereign in a baker's shop, the woman had cried on +the police, and a little later, when I was washing my face in a burn, +I had been nearly gripped, and had only got away by leaving my +coat and waistcoat behind me. + +'They can have the money back,' I cried, 'for a fat lot of good +it's done me. Those perishers are all down on a poor man. Now, if +it had been you, guv'nor, that had found the quids, nobody would +have troubled you.' + +'You're a good liar, Hannay,' he said. + +I flew into a rage. 'Stop fooling, damn you! I tell you my name's +Ainslie, and I never heard of anyone called Hannay in my born +days. I'd sooner have the police than you with your Hannays and +your monkey-faced pistol tricks ... No, guv'nor, I beg pardon, I +don't mean that. I'm much obliged to you for the grub, and I'll +thank you to let me go now the coast's clear.' + +It was obvious that he was badly puzzled. You see he had never +seen me, and my appearance must have altered considerably from +my photographs, if he had got one of them. I was pretty smart and +well dressed in London, and now I was a regular tramp. + +'I do not propose to let you go. If you are what you say you are, +you will soon have a chance of clearing yourself. If you are what I +believe you are, I do not think you will see the light much longer.' + +He rang a bell, and a third servant appeared from the veranda. + +'I want the Lanchester in five minutes,' he said. 'There will be +three to luncheon.' + +Then he looked steadily at me, and that was the hardest ordeal +of all. + +There was something weird and devilish in those eyes, cold, +malignant, unearthly, and most hellishly clever. They fascinated me +like the bright eyes of a snake. I had a strong impulse to throw +myself on his mercy and offer to join his side, and if you consider +the way I felt about the whole thing you will see that that impulse +must have been purely physical, the weakness of a brain mesmerized +and mastered by a stronger spirit. But I managed to stick it out and +even to grin. + +'You'll know me next time, guv'nor,' I said. + +'Karl,' he spoke in German to one of the men in the doorway, +'you will put this fellow in the storeroom till I return, and you will +be answerable to me for his keeping.' + +I was marched out of the room with a pistol at each ear. + +The storeroom was a damp chamber in what had been the old +farmhouse. There was no carpet on the uneven floor, and nothing +to sit down on but a school form. It was black as pitch, for the +windows were heavily shuttered. I made out by groping that the +walls were lined with boxes and barrels and sacks of some heavy +stuff. The whole place smelt of mould and disuse. My gaolers +turned the key in the door, and I could hear them shifting their feet +as they stood on guard outside. + +I sat down in that chilly darkness in a very miserable frame of +mind. The old boy had gone off in a motor to collect the two +ruffians who had interviewed me yesterday. Now, they had seen me +as the roadman, and they would remember me, for I was in the +same rig. What was a roadman doing twenty miles from his beat, +pursued by the police? A question or two would put them on the +track. Probably they had seen Mr Turnbull, probably Marmie too; +most likely they could link me up with Sir Harry, and then the +whole thing would be crystal clear. What chance had I in this +moorland house with three desperadoes and their armed servants? + +I began to think wistfully of the police, now plodding over the +hills after my wraith. They at any rate were fellow-countrymen and +honest men, and their tender mercies would be kinder than these +ghoulish aliens. But they wouldn't have listened to me. That old +devil with the eyelids had not taken long to get rid of them. I +thought he probably had some kind of graft with the constabulary. +Most likely he had letters from Cabinet Ministers saying he was to +be given every facility for plotting against Britain. That's the sort +of owlish way we run our politics in the Old Country. + +The three would be back for lunch, so I hadn't more than a +couple of hours to wait. It was simply waiting on destruction, for I +could see no way out of this mess. I wished that I had Scudder's +courage, for I am free to confess I didn't feel any great fortitude. +The only thing that kept me going was that I was pretty furious. It +made me boil with rage to think of those three spies getting the +pull on me like this. I hoped that at any rate I might be able to +twist one of their necks before they downed me. + +The more I thought of it the angrier I grew, and I had to get up +and move about the room. I tried the shutters, but they were the +kind that lock with a key, and I couldn't move them. From the +outside came the faint clucking of hens in the warm sun. Then I +groped among the sacks and boxes. I couldn't open the latter, and +the sacks seemed to be full of things like dog-biscuits that smelt of +cinnamon. But, as I circumnavigated the room, I found a handle in +the wall which seemed worth investigating. + +It was the door of a wall cupboard--what they call a 'press' in +Scotland--and it was locked. I shook it, and it seemed rather +flimsy. For want of something better to do I put out my strength +on that door, getting some purchase on the handle by looping my +braces round it. Presently the thing gave with a crash which I +thought would bring in my warders to inquire. I waited for a bit, +and then started to explore the cupboard shelves. + +There was a multitude of queer things there. I found an odd +vesta or two in my trouser pockets and struck a light. It was out in +a second, but it showed me one thing. There was a little stock of +electric torches on one shelf. I picked up one, and found it was in +working order. + +With the torch to help me I investigated further. There were +bottles and cases of queer-smelling stuffs, chemicals no doubt for +experiments, and there were coils of fine copper wire and yanks and +yanks of thin oiled silk. There was a box of detonators, and a lot of +cord for fuses. Then away at the back of the shelf I found a stout +brown cardboard box, and inside it a wooden case. I managed to +wrench it open, and within lay half a dozen little grey bricks, each a +couple of inches square. + +I took up one, and found that it crumbled easily in my hand. Then I +smelt it and put my tongue to it. After that I sat down to think. +I hadn't been a mining engineer for nothing, and I knew lentonite +when I saw it. + +With one of these bricks I could blow the house to smithereens. +I had used the stuff in Rhodesia and knew its power. But the +trouble was that my knowledge wasn't exact. I had forgotten the +proper charge and the right way of preparing it, and I wasn't sure +about the timing. I had only a vague notion, too, as to its power, +for though I had used it I had not handled it with my own fingers. + +But it was a chance, the only possible chance. It was a mighty +risk, but against it was an absolute black certainty. If I used it the +odds were, as I reckoned, about five to one in favour of my +blowing myself into the tree-tops; but if I didn't I should very +likely be occupying a six-foot hole in the garden by the evening. +That was the way I had to look at it. The prospect was pretty dark +either way, but anyhow there was a chance, both for myself and for +my country. + +The remembrance of little Scudder decided me. It was about the +beastliest moment of my life, for I'm no good at these cold-blooded +resolutions. Still I managed to rake up the pluck to set my teeth +and choke back the horrid doubts that flooded in on me. I simply +shut off my mind and pretended I was doing an experiment as +simple as Guy Fawkes fireworks. + +I got a detonator, and fixed it to a couple of feet of fuse. Then I +took a quarter of a lentonite brick, and buried it near the door +below one of the sacks in a crack of the floor, fixing the detonator +in it. For all I knew half those boxes might be dynamite. If the +cupboard held such deadly explosives, why not the boxes? In that +case there would be a glorious skyward journey for me and the +German servants and about an acre of surrounding country. There +was also the risk that the detonation might set off the other bricks +in the cupboard, for I had forgotten most that I knew about +lentonite. But it didn't do to begin thinking about the possibilities. +The odds were horrible, but I had to take them. + +I ensconced myself just below the sill of the window, and lit the +fuse. Then I waited for a moment or two. There was dead silence-- +only a shuffle of heavy boots in the passage, and the peaceful cluck +of hens from the warm out-of-doors. I commended my soul to my +Maker, and wondered where I would be in five seconds ... + +A great wave of heat seemed to surge upwards from the floor, +and hang for a blistering instant in the air. Then the wall opposite +me flashed into a golden yellow and dissolved with a rending +thunder that hammered my brain into a pulp. Something dropped +on me, catching the point of my left shoulder. + +And then I think I became unconscious. + +My stupor can scarcely have lasted beyond a few seconds. I felt +myself being choked by thick yellow fumes, and struggled out of +the debris to my feet. Somewhere behind me I felt fresh air. The +jambs of the window had fallen, and through the ragged rent the +smoke was pouring out to the summer noon. I stepped over the +broken lintel, and found myself standing in a yard in a dense and +acrid fog. I felt very sick and ill, but I could move my limbs, and I +staggered blindly forward away from the house. + +A small mill-lade ran in a wooden aqueduct at the other side of +the yard, and into this I fell. The cool water revived me, and I had +just enough wits left to think of escape. I squirmed up the lade +among the slippery green slime till I reached the mill-wheel. Then I +wriggled through the axle hole into the old mill and tumbled on to +a bed of chaff. A nail caught the seat of my trousers, and I left a +wisp of heather-mixture behind me. + +The mill had been long out of use. The ladders were rotten with +age, and in the loft the rats had gnawed great holes in the floor. +Nausea shook me, and a wheel in my head kept turning, while my +left shoulder and arm seemed to be stricken with the palsy. I looked +out of the window and saw a fog still hanging over the house and +smoke escaping from an upper window. Please God I had set the +place on fire, for I could hear confused cries coming from the +other side. + +But I had no time to linger, since this mill was obviously a bad +hiding-place. Anyone looking for me would naturally follow the +lade, and I made certain the search would begin as soon as they +found that my body was not in the storeroom. From another +window I saw that on the far side of the mill stood an old stone +dovecot. If I could get there without leaving tracks I might find a +hiding-place, for I argued that my enemies, if they thought I could +move, would conclude I had made for open country, and would go +seeking me on the moor. + +I crawled down the broken ladder, scattering chaff behind me to +cover my footsteps. I did the same on the mill floor, and on the +threshold where the door hung on broken hinges. Peeping out, I +saw that between me and the dovecot was a piece of bare cobbled +ground, where no footmarks would show. Also it was mercifully +hid by the mill buildings from any view from the house. I slipped +across the space, got to the back of the dovecot and prospected a +way of ascent. + +That was one of the hardest jobs I ever took on. My shoulder +and arm ached like hell, and I was so sick and giddy that I was +always on the verge of falling. But I managed it somehow. By the +use of out-jutting stones and gaps in the masonry and a tough ivy +root I got to the top in the end. There was a little parapet behind +which I found space to lie down. Then I proceeded to go off into +an old-fashioned swoon. + +I woke with a burning head and the sun glaring in my face. For a +long time I lay motionless, for those horrible fumes seemed to have +loosened my joints and dulled my brain. Sounds came to me from +the house--men speaking throatily and the throbbing of a stationary +car. There was a little gap in the parapet to which I wriggled, and +from which I had some sort of prospect of the yard. I saw figures +come out--a servant with his head bound up, and then a younger +man in knickerbockers. They were looking for something, and +moved towards the mill. Then one of them caught sight of the wisp +of cloth on the nail, and cried out to the other. They both went +back to the house, and brought two more to look at it. I saw the +rotund figure of my late captor, and I thought I made out the man +with the lisp. I noticed that all had pistols. + +For half an hour they ransacked the mill. I could hear them +kicking over the barrels and pulling up the rotten planking. Then +they came outside, and stood just below the dovecot arguing +fiercely. The servant with the bandage was being soundly rated. I +heard them fiddling with the door of the dovecote and for one +horrid moment I fancied they were coming up. Then they thought +better of it, and went back to the house. + +All that long blistering afternoon I lay baking on the rooftop. +Thirst was my chief torment. My tongue was like a stick, and to +make it worse I could hear the cool drip of water from the mill- +lade. I watched the course of the little stream as it came in from the +moor, and my fancy followed it to the top of the glen, where it +must issue from an icy fountain fringed with cool ferns and mosses. +I would have given a thousand pounds to plunge my face into that. + +I had a fine prospect of the whole ring of moorland. I saw the +car speed away with two occupants, and a man on a hill pony +riding east. I judged they were looking for me, and I wished them +joy of their quest. + +But I saw something else more interesting. The house stood +almost on the summit of a swell of moorland which crowned a sort +of plateau, and there was no higher point nearer than the big hills +six miles off. The actual summit, as I have mentioned, was a +biggish clump of trees--firs mostly, with a few ashes and beeches. +On the dovecot I was almost on a level with the tree-tops, and +could see what lay beyond. The wood was not solid, but only a +ring, and inside was an oval of green turf, for all the world like a +big cricket-field. + +I didn't take long to guess what it was. It was an aerodrome, and +a secret one. The place had been most cunningly chosen. For +suppose anyone were watching an aeroplane descending here, he +would think it had gone over the hill beyond the trees. As the place +was on the top of a rise in the midst of a big amphitheatre, any +observer from any direction would conclude it had passed out of +view behind the hill. Only a man very close at hand would realize +that the aeroplane had not gone over but had descended in the +midst of the wood. An observer with a telescope on one of the +higher hills might have discovered the truth, but only herds went +there, and herds do not carry spy-glasses. When I looked from the +dovecot I could see far away a blue line which I knew was the sea, +and I grew furious to think that our enemies had this secret +conning-tower to rake our waterways. + +Then I reflected that if that aeroplane came back the chances +were ten to one that I would be discovered. So through the afternoon +I lay and prayed for the coming of darkness, and glad I was +when the sun went down over the big western hills and the twilight +haze crept over the moor. The aeroplane was late. The gloaming +was far advanced when I heard the beat of wings and saw it volplaning +downward to its home in the wood. Lights twinkled for a +bit and there was much coming and going from the house. Then +the dark fell, and silence. + +Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last +quarter and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow +me to tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started +to descend. It wasn't easy, and half-way down I heard the back door +of the house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill +wall. For some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed +that whoever it was would not come round by the dovecot. Then +the light disappeared, and I dropped as softly as I could on to the +hard soil of the yard. + +I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the +fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to +do it I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I +realized that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty +certain that there would be some kind of defence round the house, +so I went through the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully +every inch before me. It was as well, for presently I came on a wire +about two feet from the ground. If I had tripped over that, it +would doubtless have rung some bell in the house and I would +have been captured. + +A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly +placed on the edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and +in five minutes I was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was +round the shoulder of the rise, in the little glen from which the +mill-lade flowed. Ten minutes later my face was in the spring, and I +was soaking down pints of the blessed water. + +But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me +and that accursed dwelling. + + +CHAPTER SEVEN +The Dry-Fly Fisherman + + +I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn't +feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was +clouded by my severe bodily discomfort. Those lentonite fumes had +fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn't +helped matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat. +Also my shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a +bruise, but it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm. + +My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull's cottage, recover my garments, +and especially Scudder's note-book, and then make for the main +line and get back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I +got in touch with the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the +better. I didn't see how I could get more proof than I had got +already. He must just take or leave my story, and anyway, with him +I would be in better hands than those devilish Germans. I had +begun to feel quite kindly towards the British police. + +It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty +about the road. Sir Harry's map had given me the lie of the land, +and all I had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west +to come to the stream where I had met the roadman. In all these +travels I never knew the names of the places, but I believe this +stream was no less than the upper waters of the river Tweed. I +calculated I must be about eighteen miles distant, and that meant I +could not get there before morning. So I must lie up a day somewhere, +for I was too outrageous a figure to be seen in the sunlight. +I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, my trousers were +badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the explosion. I +daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they were +furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for God-fearing +citizens to see on a highroad. + +Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a +hill burn, and then approached a herd's cottage, for I was feeling +the need of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was +alone, with no neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body, +and a plucky one, for though she got a fright when she saw me, she +had an axe handy, and would have used it on any evil-doer. I told +her that I had had a fall--I didn't say how--and she saw by my +looks that I was pretty sick. Like a true Samaritan she asked no +questions, but gave me a bowl of milk with a dash of whisky in it, +and let me sit for a little by her kitchen fire. She would have bathed +my shoulder, but it ached so badly that I would not let her touch it. + +I don't know what she took me for--a repentant burglar, +perhaps; for when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a +sovereign which was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head +and said something about 'giving it to them that had a right to it'. +At this I protested so strongly that I think she believed me honest, +for she took the money and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and +an old hat of her man's. She showed me how to wrap the plaid +around my shoulders, and when I left that cottage I was the living +image of the kind of Scotsman you see in the illustrations to +Burns's poems. But at any rate I was more or less clad. + +It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick +drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the +crook of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable +bed. There I managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped +and wretched, with my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the +oatcake and cheese the old wife had given me and set out again just +before the darkening. + +I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There +were no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my +memory of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty +falls into peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow +flies, but my mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was +completed with set teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I +managed it, and in the early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull's +door. The mist lay close and thick, and from the cottage I could +not see the highroad. + +Mr Turnbull himself opened to me--sober and something more +than sober. He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended +suit of black; he had been shaved not later than the night before; he +wore a linen collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible. +At first he did not recognize me. + +'Whae are ye that comes stravaigin' here on the Sabbath mornin'?' +he asked. + +I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason +for this strange decorum. + +My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a +coherent answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill. + +'Hae ye got my specs?' he asked. + +I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them. + +'Ye'll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,' he said. 'Come in- +bye. Losh, man, ye're terrible dune i' the legs. Haud up till I get ye +to a chair.' + +I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of +fever in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my +shoulder and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel +pretty bad. Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with +my clothes, and putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that +lined the kitchen walls. + +He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was +dead years ago, and since his daughter's marriage he lived alone. + +For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I +needed. I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its +course, and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had +more or less cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and +though I was out of bed in five days, it took me some time to get +my legs again. + +He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and +locking the door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit +silent in the chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When +I was getting better, he never bothered me with a question. Several +times he fetched me a two days' old SCOTSMAN, and I noticed that the +interest in the Portland Place murder seemed to have died down. +There was no mention of it, and I could find very little about +anything except a thing called the General Assembly--some +ecclesiastical spree, I gathered. + +One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. 'There's a +terrible heap o' siller in't,' he said. 'Ye'd better coont it to see +it's a' there.' + +He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had +been around making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making. + +'Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta'en +my place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on +at me, and syne I said he maun be thinkin' o' my gude-brither frae +the Cleuch that whiles lent me a haun'. He was a wersh-lookin' +sowl, and I couldna understand the half o' his English tongue.' + +I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself +fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June, +and as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking +some cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of +Turnbull's, and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to +take me with him. + +I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard +job I had of it. There never was a more independent being. He +grew positively rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and +took the money at last without a thank you. When I told him how +much I owed him, he grunted something about 'ae guid turn +deservin' anither'. You would have thought from our leave-taking +that we had parted in disgust. + +Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass +and down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets +and sheep prices, and he made up his mind I was a 'pack-shepherd' +from those parts--whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat, +as I have said, gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving +cattle is a mortally slow job, and we took the better part of the day +to cover a dozen miles. + +If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that +time. It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing +prospect of brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual +sound of larks and curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind +for the summer, and little for Hislop's conversation, for as the +fateful fifteenth of June drew near I was overweighed with the +hopeless difficulties of my enterprise. + +I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked +the two miles to the junction on the main line. The night express +for the south was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time +I went up on the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me. +I all but slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the +train with two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class +cushions and the smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully. +At any rate, I felt now that I was getting to grips with my job. + +I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to +get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and +changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire. +Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow +reedy streams. About eight o'clock in the evening, a weary and +travel-stained being--a cross between a farm-labourer and a vet-- +with a checked black-and-white plaid over his arm (for I did not +dare to wear it south of the Border), descended at the little station +of Artinswell. There were several people on the platform, and I +thought I had better wait to ask my way till I was clear of the place. + +The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a +shallow valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the +distant trees. After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but +infinitely sweet, for the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes +of blossom. Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow +stream flowed between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little +above it was a mill; and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in +the scented dusk. Somehow the place soothed me and put me at my +ease. I fell to whistling as I looked into the green depths, and the +tune which came to my lips was 'Annie Laurie'. + +A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he +too began to whistle. The tune was infectious, for he followed my +suit. He was a huge man in untidy old flannels and a wide-brimmed +hat, with a canvas bag slung on his shoulder. He nodded to me, +and I thought I had never seen a shrewder or better-tempered face. +He leaned his delicate ten-foot split-cane rod against the bridge, +and looked with me at the water. + +'Clear, isn't it?' he said pleasantly. 'I back our Kenner any day +against the Test. Look at that big fellow. Four pounds if he's an +ounce. But the evening rise is over and you can't tempt 'em.' + +'I don't see him,' said I. + +'Look! There! A yard from the reeds just above that stickle.' + +'I've got him now. You might swear he was a black stone.' + +'So,' he said, and whistled another bar of 'Annie Laurie'. + +'Twisdon's the name, isn't it?' he said over his shoulder, his eyes +still fixed on the stream. + +'No,' I said. 'I mean to say, Yes.' I had forgotten all about +my alias. + +'It's a wise conspirator that knows his own name,' he observed, +grinning broadly at a moor-hen that emerged from the bridge's shadow. + +I stood up and looked at him, at the square, cleft jaw and broad, +lined brow and the firm folds of cheek, and began to think that +here at last was an ally worth having. His whimsical blue eyes +seemed to go very deep. + +Suddenly he frowned. 'I call it disgraceful,' he said, raising his +voice. 'Disgraceful that an able-bodied man like you should dare to +beg. You can get a meal from my kitchen, but you'll get no money +from me.' + +A dog-cart was passing, driven by a young man who raised his +whip to salute the fisherman. When he had gone, he picked up his rod. + +'That's my house,' he said, pointing to a white gate a hundred +yards on. 'Wait five minutes and then go round to the back door.' +And with that he left me. + +I did as I was bidden. I found a pretty cottage with a lawn +running down to the stream, and a perfect jungle of guelder-rose +and lilac flanking the path. The back door stood open, and a grave +butler was awaiting me. + +'Come this way, Sir,' he said, and he led me along a passage and +up a back staircase to a pleasant bedroom looking towards the +river. There I found a complete outfit laid out for me--dress +clothes with all the fixings, a brown flannel suit, shirts, collars, ties, +shaving things and hair-brushes, even a pair of patent shoes. 'Sir +Walter thought as how Mr Reggie's things would fit you, Sir,' said +the butler. 'He keeps some clothes 'ere, for he comes regular on the +week-ends. There's a bathroom next door, and I've prepared a 'ot +bath. Dinner in 'alf an hour, Sir. You'll 'ear the gong.' + +The grave being withdrew, and I sat down in a chintz-covered +easy-chair and gaped. It was like a pantomime, to come suddenly out +of beggardom into this orderly comfort. Obviously Sir Walter +believed in me, though why he did I could not guess. I looked at +myself in the mirror and saw a wild, haggard brown fellow, with a +fortnight's ragged beard, and dust in ears and eyes, collarless, +vulgarly shirted, with shapeless old tweed clothes and boots that +had not been cleaned for the better part of a month. I made a fine +tramp and a fair drover; and here I was ushered by a prim butler +into this temple of gracious ease. And the best of it was that they +did not even know my name. + +I resolved not to puzzle my head but to take the gifts the gods +had provided. I shaved and bathed luxuriously, and got into the +dress clothes and clean crackling shirt, which fitted me not so +badly. By the time I had finished the looking-glass showed a not +unpersonable young man. + +Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little +round table was lit with silver candles. The sight of him--so +respectable and established and secure, the embodiment of law and +government and all the conventions--took me aback and made me +feel an interloper. He couldn't know the truth about me, or he +wouldn't treat me like this. I simply could not accept his hospitality +on false pretences. + +'I'm more obliged to you than I can say, but I'm bound to make +things clear,' I said. 'I'm an innocent man, but I'm wanted by the +police. I've got to tell you this, and I won't be surprised if you kick +me out.' + +He smiled. 'That's all right. Don't let that interfere with your +appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.' +I never ate a meal with greater relish, for I had had nothing all +day but railway sandwiches. Sir Walter did me proud, for we drank +a good champagne and had some uncommon fine port afterwards. +it made me almost hysterical to be sitting there, waited on by a +footman and a sleek butler, and remember that I had been living +for three weeks like a brigand, with every man's hand against me. I +told Sir Walter about tiger-fish in the Zambesi that bite off your +fingers if you give them a chance, and we discussed sport up and +down the globe, for he had hunted a bit in his day. + +We went to his study for coffee, a jolly room full of books and +trophies and untidiness and comfort. I made up my mind that if +ever I got rid of this business and had a house of my own, I would +create just such a room. Then when the coffee-cups were cleared +away, and we had got our cigars alight, my host swung his long +legs over the side of his chair and bade me get started with my yarn. + +'I've obeyed Harry's instructions,' he said, 'and the bribe he +offered me was that you would tell me something to wake me up. +I'm ready, Mr Hannay.' + +I noticed with a start that he called me by my proper name. + +I began at the very beginning. I told of my boredom in London, +and the night I had come back to find Scudder gibbering on my +doorstep. I told him all Scudder had told me about Karolides and +the Foreign Office conference, and that made him purse his lips and grin. + +Then I got to the murder, and he grew solemn again. He heard +all about the milkman and my time in Galloway, and my deciphering +Scudder's notes at the inn. + +'You've got them here?' he asked sharply, and drew a long +breath when I whipped the little book from my pocket. + +I said nothing of the contents. Then I described my meeting +with Sir Harry, and the speeches at the hall. At that he laughed +uproariously. + +'Harry talked dashed nonsense, did he? I quite believe it. He's as +good a chap as ever breathed, but his idiot of an uncle has stuffed +his head with maggots. Go on, Mr Hannay.' + +My day as roadman excited him a bit. He made me describe the +two fellows in the car very closely, and seemed to be raking back in +his memory. He grew merry again when he heard of the fate of that +ass jopley. + +But the old man in the moorland house solemnized him. Again I +had to describe every detail of his appearance. + +'Bland and bald-headed and hooded his eyes like a bird ... He +sounds a sinister wild-fowl! And you dynamited his hermitage, +after he had saved you from the police. Spirited piece of work, that!' +Presently I reached the end of my wanderings. He got up slowly, +and looked down at me from the hearth-rug. + +'You may dismiss the police from your mind,' he said. 'You're in +no danger from the law of this land.' + +'Great Scot!' I cried. 'Have they got the murderer?' + +'No. But for the last fortnight they have dropped you from the +list of possibles.' + +'Why?' I asked in amazement. + +'Principally because I received a letter from Scudder. I knew +something of the man, and he did several jobs for me. He was half +crank, half genius, but he was wholly honest. The trouble about +him was his partiality for playing a lone hand. That made him +pretty well useless in any Secret Service--a pity, for he had uncommon +gifts. I think he was the bravest man in the world, for he was +always shivering with fright, and yet nothing would choke him off. +I had a letter from him on the 31st of May.' + +'But he had been dead a week by then.' + +'The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. He evidently did +not anticipate an immediate decease. His communications usually +took a week to reach me, for they were sent under cover to Spain +and then to Newcastle. He had a mania, you know, for concealing +his tracks.' + +'What did he say?' I stammered. + +'Nothing. Merely that he was in danger, but had found shelter +with a good friend, and that I would hear from him before the 15th +of June. He gave me no address, but said he was living near +Portland Place. I think his object was to clear you if anything +happened. When I got it I went to Scotland Yard, went over the +details of the inquest, and concluded that you were the friend. We +made inquiries about you, Mr Hannay, and found you were respectable. +I thought I knew the motives for your disappearance--not +only the police, the other one too--and when I got Harry's scrawl I +guessed at the rest. I have been expecting you any time this past week.' +You can imagine what a load this took off my mind. I felt a free +man once more, for I was now up against my country's enemies +only, and not my country's law. + +'Now let us have the little note-book,' said Sir Walter. + +It took us a good hour to work through it. I explained the +cypher, and he was jolly quick at picking it up. He emended my +reading of it on several points, but I had been fairly correct, on the +whole. His face was very grave before he had finished, and he sat +silent for a while. + +'I don't know what to make of it,' he said at last. 'He is right +about one thing--what is going to happen the day after tomorrow. +How the devil can it have got known? That is ugly enough in itself. +But all this about war and the Black Stone--it reads like some wild +melodrama. If only I had more confidence in Scudder's judgement. +The trouble about him was that he was too romantic. He had the +artistic temperament, and wanted a story to be better than God +meant it to be. He had a lot of odd biases, too. Jews, for example, +made him see red. Jews and the high finance. + +'The Black Stone,' he repeated. 'DER SCHWARZE STEIN. It's like a +penny novelette. And all this stuff about Karolides. That is the +weak part of the tale, for I happen to know that the virtuous +Karolides is likely to outlast us both. There is no State in Europe +that wants him gone. Besides, he has just been playing up to Berlin +and Vienna and giving my Chief some uneasy moments. No! Scudder has +gone off the track there. Frankly, Hannay, I don't believe that part of +his story. There's some nasty business afoot, and he found out too much +and lost his life over it. But I am ready to take my oath that it is +ordinary spy work. A certain great European Power makes a hobby of her +spy system, and her methods are not too particular. Since she pays by +piecework her blackguards are not likely to stick at a murder or two. +They want our naval dispositions for their collection at the Marineamt; +but they will be pigeon-holed--nothing more.' + +Just then the butler entered the room. + +'There's a trunk-call from London, Sir Walter. It's Mr 'Eath, and +he wants to speak to you personally.' + +My host went off to the telephone. + +He returned in five minutes with a whitish face. 'I apologize to +the shade of Scudder,' he said. 'Karolides was shot dead this evening +at a few minutes after seven.' + + +CHAPTER EIGHT +The Coming of the Black Stone + + +I came down to breakfast next morning, after eight hours of blessed +dreamless sleep, to find Sir Walter decoding a telegram in the midst +of muffins and marmalade. His fresh rosiness of yesterday seemed a +thought tarnished. + +'I had a busy hour on the telephone after you went to bed,' he +said. 'I got my Chief to speak to the First Lord and the Secretary +for War, and they are bringing Royer over a day sooner. This wire +clinches it. He will be in London at five. Odd that the code word +for a SOUS-CHEF D/ETAT MAJOR-GENERAL should be "Porker".' + +He directed me to the hot dishes and went on. + +'Not that I think it will do much good. If your friends were +clever enough to find out the first arrangement they are clever +enough to discover the change. I would give my head to know +where the leak is. We believed there were only five men in England +who knew about Royer's visit, and you may be certain there were +fewer in France, for they manage these things better there.' + +While I ate he continued to talk, making me to my surprise a +present of his full confidence. + +'Can the dispositions not be changed?' I asked. + +'They could,' he said. 'But we want to avoid that if possible. +They are the result of immense thought, and no alteration would be +as good. Besides, on one or two points change is simply impossible. +Still, something could be done, I suppose, if it were absolutely +necessary. But you see the difficulty, Hannay. Our enemies are not +going to be such fools as to pick Royer's pocket or any childish +game like that. They know that would mean a row and put us on +our guard. Their aim is to get the details without any one of us +knowing, so that Royer will go back to Paris in the belief that the +whole business is still deadly secret. If they can't do that they fail, +for, once we suspect, they know that the whole thing must be altered.' + +'Then we must stick by the Frenchman's side till he is home +again,' I said. 'If they thought they could get the information in +Paris they would try there. It means that they have some deep +scheme on foot in London which they reckon is going to win out.' + +'Royer dines with my Chief, and then comes to my house where +four people will see him--Whittaker from the Admiralty, myself, +Sir Arthur Drew, and General Winstanley. The First Lord is ill, +and has gone to Sheringham. At my house he will get a certain +document from Whittaker, and after that he will be motored to +Portsmouth where a destroyer will take him to Havre. His journey +is too important for the ordinary boat-train. He will never be left +unattended for a moment till he is safe on French soil. The same +with Whittaker till he meets Royer. That is the best we can do, and +it's hard to see how there can be any miscarriage. But I don't mind +admitting that I'm horribly nervous. This murder of Karolides will +play the deuce in the chancelleries of Europe.' + +After breakfast he asked me if I could drive a car. +'Well, you'll be my chauffeur today and wear Hudson's rig. +You're about his size. You have a hand in this business and we are +taking no risks. There are desperate men against us, who will not +respect the country retreat of an overworked official.' + +When I first came to London I had bought a car and amused +myself with running about the south of England, so I knew something +of the geography. I took Sir Walter to town by the Bath +Road and made good going. It was a soft breathless June morning, +with a promise of sultriness later, but it was delicious enough +swinging through the little towns with their freshly watered streets, +and past the summer gardens of the Thames valley. I landed Sir +Walter at his house in Queen Anne's Gate punctually by half-past +eleven. The butler was coming up by train with the luggage. + +The first thing he did was to take me round to Scotland Yard. +There we saw a prim gentleman, with a clean-shaven, lawyer's face. + +'I've brought you the Portland Place murderer,' was Sir Walter's +introduction. + +The reply was a wry smile. 'It would have been a welcome +present, Bullivant. This, I presume, is Mr Richard Hannay, who for +some days greatly interested my department.' + +'Mr Hannay will interest it again. He has much to tell you, but +not today. For certain grave reasons his tale must wait for +four hours. Then, I can promise you, you will be entertained and +possibly edified. I want you to assure Mr Hannay that he will suffer +no further inconvenience.' + +This assurance was promptly given. 'You can take up your life +where you left off,' I was told. 'Your flat, which probably you no +longer wish to occupy, is waiting for you, and your man is still +there. As you were never publicly accused, we considered that there +was no need of a public exculpation. But on that, of course, you +must please yourself.' + +'We may want your assistance later on, MacGillivray,' Sir Walter +said as we left. + +Then he turned me loose. + +'Come and see me tomorrow, Hannay. I needn't tell you to keep +deadly quiet. If I were you I would go to bed, for you must have +considerable arrears of sleep to overtake. You had better lie low, +for if one of your Black Stone friends saw you there might be trouble.' + +I felt curiously at a loose end. At first it was very pleasant to be a +free man, able to go where I wanted without fearing anything. I +had only been a month under the ban of the law, and it was quite +enough for me. I went to the Savoy and ordered very carefully a +very good luncheon, and then smoked the best cigar the house +could provide. But I was still feeling nervous. When I saw anybody +look at me in the lounge, I grew shy, and wondered if they were +thinking about the murder. + +After that I took a taxi and drove miles away up into North +London. I walked back through fields and lines of villas and terraces +and then slums and mean streets, and it took me pretty nearly two +hours. All the while my restlessness was growing worse. I felt that +great things, tremendous things, were happening or about to +happen, and I, who was the cog-wheel of the whole business, was +out of it. Royer would be landing at Dover, Sir Walter would be +making plans with the few people in England who were in the +secret, and somewhere in the darkness the Black Stone would be +working. I felt the sense of danger and impending calamity, and I +had the curious feeling, too, that I alone could avert it, alone could +grapple with it. But I was out of the game now. How could it be +otherwise? It was not likely that Cabinet Ministers and Admiralty +Lords and Generals would admit me to their councils. + +I actually began to wish that I could run up against one of my +three enemies. That would lead to developments. I felt that I +wanted enormously to have a vulgar scrap with those gentry, where +I could hit out and flatten something. I was rapidly getting into a +very bad temper. + +I didn't feel like going back to my flat. That had to be faced +some time, but as I still had sufficient money I thought I would put +it off till next morning, and go to a hotel for the night. + +My irritation lasted through dinner, which I had at a restaurant +in Jermyn Street. I was no longer hungry, and let several courses +pass untasted. I drank the best part of a bottle of Burgundy, but it +did nothing to cheer me. An abominable restlessness had taken +possession of me. Here was I, a very ordinary fellow, with no +particular brains, and yet I was convinced that somehow I was +needed to help this business through--that without me it would all +go to blazes. I told myself it was sheer silly conceit, that four or +five of the cleverest people living, with all the might of the British +Empire at their back, had the job in hand. Yet I couldn't be +convinced. It seemed as if a voice kept speaking in my ear, telling +me to be up and doing, or I would never sleep again. + +The upshot was that about half-past nine I made up my mind to +go to Queen Anne's Gate. Very likely I would not be admitted, but +it would ease my conscience to try. + +I walked down Jermyn Street, and at the corner of Duke Street +passed a group of young men. They were in evening dress, had +been dining somewhere, and were going on to a music-hall. One of +them was Mr Marmaduke jopley. + +He saw me and stopped short. + +'By God, the murderer!' he cried. 'Here, you fellows, hold him! +That's Hannay, the man who did the Portland Place murder!' He +gripped me by the arm, and the others crowded round. +I wasn't looking for any trouble, but my ill-temper made me play +the fool. A policeman came up, and I should have told him the +truth, and, if he didn't believe it, demanded to be taken to Scotland +Yard, or for that matter to the nearest police station. But a delay at +that moment seemed to me unendurable, and the sight of Marmie's +imbecile face was more than I could bear. I let out with my left, +and had the satisfaction of seeing him measure his length in the +gutter. + +Then began an unholy row. They were all on me at once, and +the policeman took me in the rear. I got in one or two good blows, +for I think, with fair play, I could have licked the lot of them, but +the policeman pinned me behind, and one of them got his fingers +on my throat. + +Through a black cloud of rage I heard the officer of the law +asking what was the matter, and Marmie, between his broken teeth, +declaring that I was Hannay the murderer. + +'Oh, damn it all,' I cried, 'make the fellow shut up. I advise you +to leave me alone, constable. Scotland Yard knows all about me, +and you'll get a proper wigging if you interfere with me.' + +'You've got to come along of me, young man,' said the policeman. +'I saw you strike that gentleman crool 'ard. You began it too, +for he wasn't doing nothing. I seen you. Best go quietly or I'll have +to fix you up.' + +Exasperation and an overwhelming sense that at no cost must I +delay gave me the strength of a bull elephant. I fairly wrenched the +constable off his feet, floored the man who was gripping my collar, +and set off at my best pace down Duke Street. I heard a whistle +being blown, and the rush of men behind me. + +I have a very fair turn of speed, and that night I had wings. In a +jiffy I was in Pall Mall and had turned down towards St James's +Park. I dodged the policeman at the Palace gates, dived through a +press of carriages at the entrance to the Mall, and was making for +the bridge before my pursuers had crossed the roadway. In the +open ways of the Park I put on a spurt. Happily there were few +people about and no one tried to stop me. I was staking all on +getting to Queen Anne's Gate. + +When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir +Walter's house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four +motor-cars were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and +walked briskly up to the door. If the butler refused me admission, +or if he even delayed to open the door, I was done. + +He didn't delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened. + +'I must see Sir Walter,' I panted. 'My business is desperately +important.' + +That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held +the door open, and then shut it behind me. 'Sir Walter is engaged, +Sir, and I have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait.' + +The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and +rooms on both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a +telephone and a couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat. + +'See here,' I whispered. 'There's trouble about and I'm in it. But +Sir Walter knows, and I'm working for him. If anyone comes and +asks if I am here, tell him a lie.' + +He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the +street, and a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man +more than that butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a +graven image waited to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He +told them whose house it was, and what his orders were, and +simply froze them off the doorstep. I could see it all from my +alcove, and it was better than any play. + +I hadn't waited long till there came another ring at the bell. The +butler made no bones about admitting this new visitor. + +While he was taking off his coat I saw who it was. You couldn't +open a newspaper or a magazine without seeing that face--the grey +beard cut like a spade, the firm fighting mouth, the blunt square +nose, and the keen blue eyes. I recognized the First Sea Lord, the +man, they say, that made the new British Navy. + +He passed my alcove and was ushered into a room at the back of +the hall. As the door opened I could hear the sound of low voices. +It shut, and I was left alone again. + +For twenty minutes I sat there, wondering what I was to do +next. I was still perfectly convinced that I was wanted, but when or +how I had no notion. I kept looking at my watch, and as the time +crept on to half-past ten I began to think that the conference must +soon end. In a quarter of an hour Royer should be speeding along +the road to Portsmouth ... + +Then I heard a bell ring, and the butler appeared. The door of +the back room opened, and the First Sea Lord came out. He walked +past me, and in passing he glanced in my direction, and for a +second we looked each other in the face. + +Only for a second, but it was enough to make my heart jump. I +had never seen the great man before, and he had never seen me. +But in that fraction of time something sprang into his eyes, and that +something was recognition. You can't mistake it. It is a flicker, a +spark of light, a minute shade of difference which means one thing +and one thing only. It came involuntarily, for in a moment it died, +and he passed on. In a maze of wild fancies I heard the street door +close behind him. + +I picked up the telephone book and looked up the number of his +house. We were connected at once, and I heard a servant's voice. + +'Is his Lordship at home?' I asked. + +'His Lordship returned half an hour ago,' said the voice, 'and has +gone to bed. He is not very well tonight. Will you leave a +message, Sir?' + +I rang off and almost tumbled into a chair. My part in this +business was not yet ended. It had been a close shave, but I had +been in time. + +Not a moment could be lost, so I marched boldly to the door of +that back room and entered without knocking. + +Five surprised faces looked up from a round table. There was +Sir Walter, and Drew the War Minister, whom I knew from his +photographs. There was a slim elderly man, who was probably +Whittaker, the Admiralty official, and there was General Winstanley, +conspicuous from the long scar on his forehead. Lastly, +there was a short stout man with an iron-grey moustache and +bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the middle of a sentence. + +Sir Walter's face showed surprise and annoyance. + +'This is Mr Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you,' he said +apologetically to the company. 'I'm afraid, Hannay, this visit +is ill-timed.' + +I was getting back my coolness. 'That remains to be seen, Sir,' I +said; 'but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God's sake, +gentlemen, tell me who went out a minute ago?' + +'Lord Alloa,' Sir Walter said, reddening with anger. +'It was not,' I cried; 'it was his living image, but it was not Lord +Alloa. It was someone who recognized me, someone I have seen in +the last month. He had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up +Lord Alloa's house and was told he had come in half an hour +before and had gone to bed.' + +'Who--who--' someone stammered. + +'The Black Stone,' I cried, and I sat down in the chair so recently +vacated and looked round at five badly scared gentlemen. + + +CHAPTER NINE +The Thirty-Nine Steps + + +'Nonsense!' said the official from the Admiralty. + +Sir Walter got up and left the room while we looked blankly at +the table. He came back in ten minutes with a long face. 'I have +spoken to Alloa,' he said. 'Had him out of bed--very grumpy. He +went straight home after Mulross's dinner.' + +'But it's madness,' broke in General Winstanley. 'Do you mean +to tell me that that man came here and sat beside me for the best +part of half an hour and that I didn't detect the imposture? Alloa +must be out of his mind.' + +'Don't you see the cleverness of it?' I said. 'You were too +interested in other things to have any eyes. You took Lord Alloa for +granted. If it had been anybody else you might have looked more +closely, but it was natural for him to be here, and that put you all +to sleep.' + +Then the Frenchman spoke, very slowly and in good English. + +'The young man is right. His psychology is good. Our enemies +have not been foolish!' + +He bent his wise brows on the assembly. + +'I will tell you a tale,' he said. 'It happened many years ago in +Senegal. I was quartered in a remote station, and to pass the time +used to go fishing for big barbel in the river. A little Arab mare +used to carry my luncheon basket--one of the salted dun breed you +got at Timbuctoo in the old days. Well, one morning I had good +sport, and the mare was unaccountably restless. I could hear her +whinnying and squealing and stamping her feet, and I kept soothing +her with my voice while my mind was intent on fish. I could see +her all the time, as I thought, out of a corner of my eye, tethered +to a tree twenty yards away. After a couple of hours I began to +think of food. I collected my fish in a tarpaulin bag, and moved +down the stream towards the mare, trolling my line. When I got up +to her I flung the tarpaulin on her back--' + +He paused and looked round. + +'It was the smell that gave me warning. I turned my head and +found myself looking at a lion three feet off ... An old man-eater, +that was the terror of the village ... What was left of the mare, a +mass of blood and bones and hide, was behind him.' + +'What happened?' I asked. I was enough of a hunter to know a +true yarn when I heard it. + +'I stuffed my fishing-rod into his jaws, and I had a pistol. Also +my servants came presently with rifles. But he left his mark on me.' +He held up a hand which lacked three fingers. + +'Consider,' he said. 'The mare had been dead more than an hour, +and the brute had been patiently watching me ever since. I never +saw the kill, for I was accustomed to the mare's fretting, and I +never marked her absence, for my consciousness of her was only of +something tawny, and the lion filled that part. If I could blunder +thus, gentlemen, in a land where men's senses are keen, why should +we busy preoccupied urban folk not err also?' + +Sir Walter nodded. No one was ready to gainsay him. + +'But I don't see,' went on Winstanley. 'Their object was to get +these dispositions without our knowing it. Now it only required +one of us to mention to Alloa our meeting tonight for the whole +fraud to be exposed.' + +Sir Walter laughed dryly. 'The selection of Alloa shows their +acumen. Which of us was likely to speak to him about tonight? Or +was he likely to open the subject?' + +I remembered the First Sea Lord's reputation for taciturnity and +shortness of temper. + +'The one thing that puzzles me,' said the General, 'is what good +his visit here would do that spy fellow? He could not carry away +several pages of figures and strange names in his head.' + +'That is not difficult,' the Frenchman replied. 'A good spy is +trained to have a photographic memory. Like your own Macaulay. +You noticed he said nothing, but went through these papers again +and again. I think we may assume that he has every detail stamped +on his mind. When I was younger I could do the same trick.' + +'Well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to change the plans,' +said Sir Walter ruefully. + +Whittaker was looking very glum. 'Did you tell Lord Alloa what +has happened?' he asked. 'No? Well, I can't speak with absolute +assurance, but I'm nearly certain we can't make any serious change +unless we alter the geography of England.' + +'Another thing must be said,' it was Royer who spoke. 'I talked +freely when that man was here. I told something of the military +plans of my Government. I was permitted to say so much. But that +information would be worth many millions to our enemies. No, my +friends, I see no other way. The man who came here and his +confederates must be taken, and taken at once.' + +'Good God,' I cried, 'and we have not a rag of a clue.' + +'Besides,' said Whittaker, 'there is the post. By this time the news +will be on its way.' + +'No,' said the Frenchman. 'You do not understand the habits +of the spy. He receives personally his reward, and he delivers +personally his intelligence. We in France know something of the +breed. There is still a chance, MES AMIS. These men must cross +the sea, and there are ships to be searched and ports to be +watched. Believe me, the need is desperate for both France and Britain.' + +Royer's grave good sense seemed to pull us together. He was the +man of action among fumblers. But I saw no hope in any face, and +I felt none. Where among the fifty millions of these islands and +within a dozen hours were we to lay hands on the three cleverest +rogues in Europe? + +Then suddenly I had an inspiration. + +'Where is Scudder's book?' I cried to Sir Walter. 'Quick, man, I +remember something in it.' + +He unlocked the door of a bureau and gave it to me. + +I found the place. THIRTY-NINE STEPS, I read, and again, THIRTY-NINE +STEPS--I COUNTED THEM--HIGH TIDE 10.17 P.M. + +The Admiralty man was looking at me as if he thought I had +gone mad. + +'Don't you see it's a clue,' I shouted. 'Scudder knew where these +fellows laired--he knew where they were going to leave the +country, though he kept the name to himself. Tomorrow was the +day, and it was some place where high tide was at 10.17.' + +'They may have gone tonight,' someone said. + +'Not they. They have their own snug secret way, and they won't +be hurried. I know Germans, and they are mad about working to a +plan. Where the devil can I get a book of Tide Tables?' + +Whittaker brightened up. 'It's a chance,' he said. 'Let's go over +to the Admiralty.' + +We got into two of the waiting motor-cars--all but Sir Walter, +who went off to Scotland Yard--to 'mobilize MacGillivray', so he said. +We marched through empty corridors and big bare chambers +where the charwomen were busy, till we reached a little room lined +with books and maps. A resident clerk was unearthed, who +presently fetched from the library the Admiralty Tide Tables. I sat +at the desk and the others stood round, for somehow or other I had +got charge of this expedition. + +It was no good. There were hundreds of entries, and so far as I +could see 10.17 might cover fifty places. We had to find some way +of narrowing the possibilities. + +I took my head in my hands and thought. There must be some +way of reading this riddle. What did Scudder mean by steps? I +thought of dock steps, but if he had meant that I didn't think he +would have mentioned the number. It must be some place where +there were several staircases, and one marked out from the others +by having thirty-nine steps. + +Then I had a sudden thought, and hunted up all the steamer +sailings. There was no boat which left for the Continent at 10.17 p.m. + +Why was high tide so important? If it was a harbour it must be +some little place where the tide mattered, or else it was a heavy- +draught boat. But there was no regular steamer sailing at that hour, +and somehow I didn't think they would travel by a big boat from a +regular harbour. So it must be some little harbour where the tide +was important, or perhaps no harbour at all. + +But if it was a little port I couldn't see what the steps signified. +There were no sets of staircases on any harbour that I had ever +seen. It must be some place which a particular staircase identified, +and where the tide was full at 10.17. On the whole it seemed to me +that the place must be a bit of open coast. But the staircases kept +puzzling me. + +Then I went back to wider considerations. Whereabouts would a +man be likely to leave for Germany, a man in a hurry, who wanted +a speedy and a secret passage? Not from any of the big harbours. +And not from the Channel or the West Coast or Scotland, for, +remember, he was starting from London. I measured the distance +on the map, and tried to put myself in the enemy's shoes. I +should try for Ostend or Antwerp or Rotterdam, and I should +sail from somewhere on the East Coast between Cromer and Dover. + +All this was very loose guessing, and I don't pretend it was +ingenious or scientific. I wasn't any kind of Sherlock Holmes. But I +have always fancied I had a kind of instinct about questions like +this. I don't know if I can explain myself, but I used to use my +brains as far as they went, and after they came to a blank wall I +guessed, and I usually found my guesses pretty right. + +So I set out all my conclusions on a bit of Admiralty paper. They +ran like this: + + FAIRLY CERTAIN + + (1) Place where there are several sets of stairs; one that + matters distinguished by having thirty-nine steps. + + (2) Full tide at 10.17 p.m. Leaving shore only possible at full + tide. + + (3) Steps not dock steps, and so place probably not harbour. + + (4) No regular night steamer at 10.17. Means of transport must + be tramp (unlikely), yacht, or fishing-boat. + +There my reasoning stopped. I made another list, which I headed +'Guessed', but I was just as sure of the one as the other. + + GUESSED + + (1) Place not harbour but open coast. + + (2) Boat small--trawler, yacht, or launch. + (3) Place somewhere on East Coast between Cromer and Dover. + +it struck me as odd that I should be sitting at that desk with a +Cabinet Minister, a Field-Marshal, two high Government officials, +and a French General watching me, while from the scribble of a +dead man I was trying to drag a secret which meant life or death +for us. + +Sir Walter had joined us, and presently MacGillivray arrived. He +had sent out instructions to watch the ports and railway stations for +the three men whom I had described to Sir Walter. Not that he or +anybody else thought that that would do much good. + +'Here's the most I can make of it,' I said. 'We have got to find a +place where there are several staircases down to the beach, one of +which has thirty-nine steps. I think it's a piece of open coast with +biggish cliffs, somewhere between the Wash and the Channel. Also +it's a place where full tide is at 10.17 tomorrow night.' + +Then an idea struck me. 'Is there no Inspector of Coastguards or +some fellow like that who knows the East Coast?' + +Whittaker said there was, and that he lived in Clapham. He went +off in a car to fetch him, and the rest of us sat about the little room +and talked of anything that came into our heads. I lit a pipe and +went over the whole thing again till my brain grew weary. + +About one in the morning the coastguard man arrived. He was a +fine old fellow, with the look of a naval officer, and was desperately +respectful to the company. I left the War Minister to cross-examine +him, for I felt he would think it cheek in me to talk. + +'We want you to tell us the places you know on the East Coast +where there are cliffs, and where several sets of steps run down to +the beach.' + +He thought for a bit. 'What kind of steps do you mean, Sir? +There are plenty of places with roads cut down through the cliffs, +and most roads have a step or two in them. Or do you mean +regular staircases--all steps, so to speak?' + +Sir Arthur looked towards me. 'We mean regular staircases,' I said. + +He reflected a minute or two. 'I don't know that I can think of +any. Wait a second. There's a place in Norfolk--Brattlesham-- +beside a golf-course, where there are a couple of staircases, to let the +gentlemen get a lost ball.' + +'That's not it,' I said. + +'Then there are plenty of Marine Parades, if that's what you +mean. Every seaside resort has them.' + +I shook my head. +'It's got to be more retired than that,' I said. + +'Well, gentlemen, I can't think of anywhere else. Of course, +there's the Ruff--' + +'What's that?' I asked. + +'The big chalk headland in Kent, close to Bradgate. It's got a lot +of villas on the top, and some of the houses have staircases down to +a private beach. It's a very high-toned sort of place, and the residents +there like to keep by themselves.' + +I tore open the Tide Tables and found Bradgate. High tide there +was at 10.17 P.m. on the 15th of June. + +'We're on the scent at last,' I cried excitedly. 'How can I find out +what is the tide at the Ruff?' + +'I can tell you that, Sir,' said the coastguard man. 'I once was lent +a house there in this very month, and I used to go out at night to +the deep-sea fishing. The tide's ten minutes before Bradgate.' + +I closed the book and looked round at the company. + +'If one of those staircases has thirty-nine steps we have solved +the mystery, gentlemen,' I said. 'I want the loan of your car, Sir +Walter, and a map of the roads. If Mr MacGillivray will spare me +ten minutes, I think we can prepare something for tomorrow.' + +It was ridiculous in me to take charge of the business like this, +but they didn't seem to mind, and after all I had been in the show +from the start. Besides, I was used to rough jobs, and these eminent +gentlemen were too clever not to see it. It was General Royer who +gave me my commission. 'I for one,' he said, 'am content to leave +the matter in Mr Hannay's hands.' + +By half-past three I was tearing past the moonlit hedgerows of +Kent, with MacGillivray's best man on the seat beside me. + + +CHAPTER TEN +Various Parties Converging on the Sea + + +A pink and blue June morning found me at Bradgate looking from +the Griffin Hotel over a smooth sea to the lightship on the Cock +sands which seemed the size of a bell-buoy. A couple of miles +farther south and much nearer the shore a small destroyer was +anchored. Scaife, MacGillivray's man, who had been in the Navy, +knew the boat, and told me her name and her commander's, so I +sent off a wire to Sir Walter. + +After breakfast Scaife got from a house-agent a key for the gates +of the staircases on the Ruff. I walked with him along the sands, +and sat down in a nook of the cliffs while he investigated the half- +dozen of them. I didn't want to be seen, but the place at this hour +was quite deserted, and all the time I was on that beach I saw +nothing but the sea-gulls. + +It took him more than an hour to do the job, and when I saw +him coming towards me, conning a bit of paper, I can tell you my +heart was in my mouth. Everything depended, you see, on my +guess proving right. + +He read aloud the number of steps in the different stairs. 'Thirty- +four, thirty-five, thirty-nine, forty-two, forty-seven,' and 'twenty- +one' where the cliffs grew lower. I almost got up and shouted. + +We hurried back to the town and sent a wire to MacGillivray. I +wanted half a dozen men, and I directed them to divide themselves +among different specified hotels. Then Scaife set out to prospect +the house at the head of the thirty-nine steps. + +He came back with news that both puzzled and reassured me. +The house was called Trafalgar Lodge, and belonged to an old +gentleman called Appleton--a retired stockbroker, the house-agent +said. Mr Appleton was there a good deal in the summer time, and +was in residence now--had been for the better part of a week. +Scaife could pick up very little information about him, except that +he was a decent old fellow, who paid his bills regularly, and was +always good for a fiver for a local charity. Then Scaife seemed to +have penetrated to the back door of the house, pretending he was +an agent for sewing-machines. Only three servants were kept, a +cook, a parlour-maid, and a housemaid, and they were just the sort +that you would find in a respectable middle-class household. The +cook was not the gossiping kind, and had pretty soon shut the door +in his face, but Scaife said he was positive she knew nothing. Next +door there was a new house building which would give good cover +for observation, and the villa on the other side was to let, and its +garden was rough and shrubby. + +I borrowed Scaife's telescope, and before lunch went for a walk +along the Ruff. I kept well behind the rows of villas, and found a +good observation point on the edge of the golf-course. There I had +a view of the line of turf along the cliff top, with seats placed at +intervals, and the little square plots, railed in and planted with +bushes, whence the staircases descended to the beach. I saw Trafalgar +Lodge very plainly, a red-brick villa with a veranda, a tennis +lawn behind, and in front the ordinary seaside flower-garden full of +marguerites and scraggy geraniums. There was a flagstaff from +which an enormous Union Jack hung limply in the still air. + +Presently I observed someone leave the house and saunter along +the cliff. When I got my glasses on him I saw it was an old man, +wearing white flannel trousers, a blue serge jacket, and a straw hat. +He carried field-glasses and a newspaper, and sat down on one of +the iron seats and began to read. Sometimes he would lay down the +paper and turn his glasses on the sea. He looked for a long time at +the destroyer. I watched him for half an hour, till he got up and +went back to the house for his luncheon, when I returned to the +hotel for mine. + +I wasn't feeling very confident. This decent common-place dwelling +was not what I had expected. The man might be the bald +archaeologist of that horrible moorland farm, or he might not. He +was exactly the kind of satisfied old bird you will find in every +suburb and every holiday place. If you wanted a type of the perfectly +harmless person you would probably pitch on that. + +But after lunch, as I sat in the hotel porch, I perked up, for I saw +the thing I had hoped for and had dreaded to miss. A yacht came +up from the south and dropped anchor pretty well opposite the +Ruff. She seemed about a hundred and fifty tons, and I saw she +belonged to the Squadron from the white ensign. So Scaife and I +went down to the harbour and hired a boatman for an afternoon's fishing. + +I spent a warm and peaceful afternoon. We caught between us +about twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue +sea I took a cheerier view of things. Above the white cliffs of the +Ruff I saw the green and red of the villas, and especially the great +flagstaff of Trafalgar Lodge. About four o'clock, when we had +fished enough, I made the boatman row us round the yacht, which +lay like a delicate white bird, ready at a moment to flee. Scaife said +she must be a fast boat for her build, and that she was pretty +heavily engined. + +Her name was the ARIADNE, as I discovered from the cap of one of +the men who was polishing brasswork. I spoke to him, and got an +answer in the soft dialect of Essex. Another hand that came along +passed me the time of day in an unmistakable English tongue. Our +boatman had an argument with one of them about the weather, and +for a few minutes we lay on our oars close to the starboard bow. + +Then the men suddenly disregarded us and bent their heads to +their work as an officer came along the deck. He was a pleasant, +clean-looking young fellow, and he put a question to us about our +fishing in very good English. But there could be no doubt about +him. His close-cropped head and the cut of his collar and tie never +came out of England. + +That did something to reassure me, but as we rowed back to +Bradgate my obstinate doubts would not be dismissed. The thing that +worried me was the reflection that my enemies knew that I had got my +knowledge from Scudder, and it was Scudder who had given me the +clue to this place. If they knew that Scudder had this clue, would they +not be certain to change their plans? Too much depended on their +success for them to take any risks. The whole question was how much +they understood about Scudder's knowledge. I had talked confidently +last night about Germans always sticking to a scheme, but if they had +any suspicions that I was on their track they would be fools not to +cover it. I wondered if the man last night had seen that I recognized +him. Somehow I did not think he had, and to that I had clung. But the +whole business had never seemed so difficult as that afternoon when +by all calculations I should have been rejoicing in assured success. + +In the hotel I met the commander of the destroyer, to whom +Scaife introduced me, and with whom I had a few words. Then I +thought I would put in an hour or two watching Trafalgar Lodge. + +I found a place farther up the hill, in the garden of an empty +house. From there I had a full view of the court, on which two +figures were having a game of tennis. One was the old man, whom +I had already seen; the other was a younger fellow, wearing some +club colours in the scarf round his middle. They played with tremendous +zest, like two city gents who wanted hard exercise to open +their pores. You couldn't conceive a more innocent spectacle. They +shouted and laughed and stopped for drinks, when a maid brought +out two tankards on a salver. I rubbed my eyes and asked myself if +I was not the most immortal fool on earth. Mystery and darkness +had hung about the men who hunted me over the Scotch moor in +aeroplane and motor-car, and notably about that infernal antiquarian. +It was easy enough to connect those folk with the knife +that pinned Scudder to the floor, and with fell designs on the +world's peace. But here were two guileless citizens taking their +innocuous exercise, and soon about to go indoors to a humdrum +dinner, where they would talk of market prices and the last cricket +scores and the gossip of their native Surbiton. I had been making a +net to catch vultures and falcons, and lo and behold! two plump +thrushes had blundered into it. + +Presently a third figure arrived, a young man on a bicycle, with a +bag of golf-clubs slung on his back. He strolled round to the tennis +lawn and was welcomed riotously by the players. Evidently they +were chaffing him, and their chaff sounded horribly English. Then +the plump man, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, announced +that he must have a tub. I heard his very words--'I've got into +a proper lather,' he said. 'This will bring down my weight and +my handicap, Bob. I'll take you on tomorrow and give you a stroke a +hole.' You couldn't find anything much more English than that. + +They all went into the house, and left me feeling a precious idiot. +I had been barking up the wrong tree this time. These men might +be acting; but if they were, where was their audience? They didn't +know I was sitting thirty yards off in a rhododendron. It was simply +impossible to believe that these three hearty fellows were anything +but what they seemed--three ordinary, game-playing, suburban +Englishmen, wearisome, if you like, but sordidly innocent. + +And yet there were three of them; and one was old, and one was +plump, and one was lean and dark; and their house chimed in with +Scudder's notes; and half a mile off was lying a steam yacht with at +least one German officer. I thought of Karolides lying dead and all +Europe trembling on the edge of earthquake, and the men I had +left behind me in London who were waiting anxiously for the +events of the next hours. There was no doubt that hell was afoot +somewhere. The Black Stone had won, and if it survived this June +night would bank its winnings. + +There seemed only one thing to do--go forward as if I had no +doubts, and if I was going to make a fool of myself to do it +handsomely. Never in my life have I faced a job with greater +disinclination. I would rather in my then mind have walked into a +den of anarchists, each with his Browning handy, or faced a charging +lion with a popgun, than enter that happy home of three +cheerful Englishmen and tell them that their game was up. How +they would laugh at me! + +But suddenly I remembered a thing I once heard in Rhodesia +from old Peter Pienaar. I have quoted Peter already in this narrative. +He was the best scout I ever knew, and before he had turned +respectable he had been pretty often on the windy side of the law, +when he had been wanted badly by the authorities. Peter once +discussed with me the question of disguises, and he had a theory +which struck me at the time. He said, barring absolute certainties +like fingerprints, mere physical traits were very little use for +identification if the fugitive really knew his business. He laughed at +things like dyed hair and false beards and such childish follies. The +only thing that mattered was what Peter called 'atmosphere'. + +If a man could get into perfectly different surroundings from +those in which he had been first observed, and--this is the important +part--really play up to these surroundings and behave as if +he had never been out of them, he would puzzle the cleverest +detectives on earth. And he used to tell a story of how he once +borrowed a black coat and went to church and shared the same +hymn-book with the man that was looking for him. If that man had +seen him in decent company before he would have recognized him; +but he had only seen him snuffing the lights in a public-house with +a revolver. + +The recollection of Peter's talk gave me the first real comfort +that I had had that day. Peter had been a wise old bird, and these +fellows I was after were about the pick of the aviary. What if they +were playing Peter's game? A fool tries to look different: a clever +man looks the same and is different. + +Again, there was that other maxim of Peter's which had helped +me when I had been a roadman. 'If you are playing a part, you +will never keep it up unless you convince yourself that you are +it.' That would explain the game of tennis. Those chaps didn't +need to act, they just turned a handle and passed into another +life, which came as naturally to them as the first. It sounds a +platitude, but Peter used to say that it was the big secret of all +the famous criminals. + +It was now getting on for eight o'clock, and I went back and +saw Scaife to give him his instructions. I arranged with him how to +place his men, and then I went for a walk, for I didn't feel up to +any dinner. I went round the deserted golf-course, and then to a +point on the cliffs farther north beyond the line of the villas. + +On the little trim newly-made roads I met people in flannels +coming back from tennis and the beach, and a coastguard from the +wireless station, and donkeys and pierrots padding homewards. +Out at sea in the blue dusk I saw lights appear on the ARIADNE and +on the destroyer away to the south, and beyond the Cock sands the +bigger lights of steamers making for the Thames. The whole scene +was so peaceful and ordinary that I got more dashed in spirits every +second. It took all my resolution to stroll towards Trafalgar Lodge +about half-past nine. + +On the way I got a piece of solid comfort from the sight of a +greyhound that was swinging along at a nursemaid's heels. He +reminded me of a dog I used to have in Rhodesia, and of the time +when I took him hunting with me in the Pali hills. We were after +rhebok, the dun kind, and I recollected how we had followed one +beast, and both he and I had clean lost it. A greyhound works by +sight, and my eyes are good enough, but that buck simply leaked +out of the landscape. Afterwards I found out how it managed it. +Against the grey rock of the kopjes it showed no more than a crow +against a thundercloud. It didn't need to run away; all it had to do +was to stand still and melt into the background. + +Suddenly as these memories chased across my brain I thought of +my present case and applied the moral. The Black Stone didn't need +to bolt. They were quietly absorbed into the landscape. I was on +the right track, and I jammed that down in my mind and vowed +never to forget it. The last word was with Peter Pienaar. + +Scaife's men would be posted now, but there was no sign of a +soul. The house stood as open as a market-place for anybody to +observe. A three-foot railing separated it from the cliff road; the +windows on the ground-floor were all open, and shaded lights and +the low sound of voices revealed where the occupants were finishing +dinner. Everything was as public and above-board as a charity +bazaar. Feeling the greatest fool on earth, I opened the gate and +rang the bell. + +A man of my sort, who has travelled about the world in rough +places, gets on perfectly well with two classes, what you may call +the upper and the lower. He understands them and they understand +him. I was at home with herds and tramps and roadmen, and I was +sufficiently at my ease with people like Sir Walter and the men I +had met the night before. I can't explain why, but it is a fact. But +what fellows like me don't understand is the great comfortable, +satisfied middle-class world, the folk that live in villas and suburbs. +He doesn't know how they look at things, he doesn't understand +their conventions, and he is as shy of them as of a black mamba. +When a trim parlour-maid opened the door, I could hardly find my voice. + +I asked for Mr Appleton, and was ushered in. My plan had been +to walk straight into the dining-room, and by a sudden appearance +wake in the men that start of recognition which would confirm my +theory. But when I found myself in that neat hall the place mastered +me. There were the golf-clubs and tennis-rackets, the straw hats +and caps, the rows of gloves, the sheaf of walking-sticks, which +you will find in ten thousand British homes. A stack of neatly +folded coats and waterproofs covered the top of an old oak chest; +there was a grandfather clock ticking; and some polished brass +warming-pans on the walls, and a barometer, and a print of Chiltern +winning the St Leger. The place was as orthodox as an Anglican +church. When the maid asked me for my name I gave it automatically, +and was shown into the smoking-room, on the right side of the hall. + +That room was even worse. I hadn't time to examine it, but I +could see some framed group photographs above the mantelpiece, +and I could have sworn they were English public school or college. +I had only one glance, for I managed to pull myself together and go +after the maid. But I was too late. She had already entered the +dining-room and given my name to her master, and I had missed the +chance of seeing how the three took it. + +When I walked into the room the old man at the head of the +table had risen and turned round to meet me. He was in evening +dress--a short coat and black tie, as was the other, whom I called +in my own mind the plump one. The third, the dark fellow, wore a +blue serge suit and a soft white collar, and the colours of some club +or school. + +The old man's manner was perfect. 'Mr Hannay?' he said +hesitatingly. 'Did you wish to see me? One moment, you fellows, and I'll +rejoin you. We had better go to the smoking-room.' + +Though I hadn't an ounce of confidence in me, I forced myself +to play the game. I pulled up a chair and sat down on it. + +'I think we have met before,' I said, 'and I guess you know +my business.' + +The light in the room was dim, but so far as I could see their +faces, they played the part of mystification very well. + +'Maybe, maybe,' said the old man. 'I haven't a very good memory, +but I'm afraid you must tell me your errand, Sir, for I really don't +know it.' + +'Well, then,' I said, and all the time I seemed to myself to be +talking pure foolishness--'I have come to tell you that the game's +up. I have a warrant for the arrest of you three gentlemen.' + +'Arrest,' said the old man, and he looked really shocked. 'Arrest! +Good God, what for?' + +'For the murder of Franklin Scudder in London on the 23rd day +of last month.' + +'I never heard the name before,' said the old man in a dazed voice. + +One of the others spoke up. 'That was the Portland Place murder. +I read about it. Good heavens, you must be mad, Sir! Where do you +come from?' + +'Scotland Yard,' I said. + +After that for a minute there was utter silence. The old man was +staring at his plate and fumbling with a nut, the very model of +innocent bewilderment. + +Then the plump one spoke up. He stammered a little, like a man +picking his words. + +'Don't get flustered, uncle,' he said. 'It is all a ridiculous mistake; +but these things happen sometimes, and we can easily set it right. It +won't be hard to prove our innocence. I can show that I was out of +the country on the 23rd of May, and Bob was in a nursing home. +You were in London, but you can explain what you were doing.' + +'Right, Percy! Of course that's easy enough. The 23rd! That was +the day after Agatha's wedding. Let me see. What was I doing? I +came up in the morning from Woking, and lunched at the club with +Charlie Symons. Then--oh yes, I dined with the Fishmongers. I +remember, for the punch didn't agree with me, and I was seedy next +morning. Hang it all, there's the cigar-box I brought back from the +dinner.' He pointed to an object on the table, and laughed nervously. + +'I think, Sir,' said the young man, addressing me respectfully, +'you will see you are mistaken. We want to assist the law like all +Englishmen, and we don't want Scotland Yard to be making fools +of themselves. That's so, uncle?' + +'Certainly, Bob.' The old fellow seemed to be recovering his +voice. 'Certainly, we'll do anything in our power to assist the +authorities. But--but this is a bit too much. I can't get over it.' + +'How Nellie will chuckle,' said the plump man. 'She always said +that you would die of boredom because nothing ever happened to +you. And now you've got it thick and strong,' and he began to +laugh very pleasantly. + +'By Jove, yes. Just think of it! What a story to tell at the club. +Really, Mr Hannay, I suppose I should be angry, to show my +innocence, but it's too funny! I almost forgive you the fright you +gave me! You looked so glum, I thought I might have been walking +in my sleep and killing people.' + +It couldn't be acting, it was too confoundedly genuine. My heart +went into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and +clear out. But I told myself I must see it through, even though I +was to be the laughing-stock of Britain. The light from the dinner- +table candlesticks was not very good, and to cover my confusion I +got up, walked to the door and switched on the electric light. The +sudden glare made them blink, and I stood scanning the three faces. + +Well, I made nothing of it. One was old and bald, one was stout, +one was dark and thin. There was nothing in their appearance to +prevent them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but +there was nothing to identify them. I simply can't explain why I +who, as a roadman, had looked into two pairs of eyes, and as Ned +Ainslie into another pair, why I, who have a good memory and +reasonable powers of observation, could find no satisfaction. They +seemed exactly what they professed to be, and I could not have +sworn to one of them. + +There in that pleasant dining-room, with etchings on the walls, +and a picture of an old lady in a bib above the mantelpiece, I could +see nothing to connect them with the moorland desperadoes. There +was a silver cigarette-box beside me, and I saw that it had been won +by Percival Appleton, Esq., of the St Bede's Club, in a golf tournament. +I had to keep a firm hold of Peter Pienaar to prevent myself +bolting out of that house. + +'Well,' said the old man politely, 'are you reassured by your +scrutiny, Sir?' + +I couldn't find a word. + +'I hope you'll find it consistent with your duty to drop this +ridiculous business. I make no complaint, but you'll see how annoying +it must be to respectable people.' + +I shook my head. + +'O Lord,' said the young man. 'This is a bit too thick!' + +'Do you propose to march us off to the police station?' asked the +plump one. 'That might be the best way out of it, but I suppose +you won't be content with the local branch. I have the right to ask +to see your warrant, but I don't wish to cast any aspersions upon +you. You are only doing your duty. But you'll admit it's horribly +awkward. What do you propose to do?' + +There was nothing to do except to call in my men and have them +arrested, or to confess my blunder and clear out. I felt mesmerized by +the whole place, by the air of obvious innocence--not innocence +merely, but frank honest bewilderment and concern in the three faces. + +'Oh, Peter Pienaar,' I groaned inwardly, and for a moment I was +very near damning myself for a fool and asking their pardon. + +'Meantime I vote we have a game of bridge,' said the plump one. +'It will give Mr Hannay time to think over things, and you know +we have been wanting a fourth player. Do you play, Sir?' + +I accepted as if it had been an ordinary invitation at the club. +The whole business had mesmerized me. We went into the +smoking-room where a card-table was set out, and I was offered +things to smoke and drink. I took my place at the table in a kind of +dream. The window was open and the moon was flooding the cliffs +and sea with a great tide of yellow light. There was moonshine, +too, in my head. The three had recovered their composure, and +were talking easily--just the kind of slangy talk you will hear in +any golf club-house. I must have cut a rum figure, sitting there +knitting my brows with my eyes wandering. + +My partner was the young dark one. I play a fair hand at bridge, +but I must have been rank bad that night. They saw that they had +got me puzzled, and that put them more than ever at their ease. I +kept looking at their faces, but they conveyed nothing to me. It +was not that they looked different; they were different. I clung +desperately to the words of Peter Pienaar. + +Then something awoke me. + +The old man laid down his hand to light a cigar. He didn't pick +it up at once, but sat back for a moment in his chair, with his +fingers tapping on his knees. + +It was the movement I remembered when I had stood before him +in the moorland farm, with the pistols of his servants behind me. + +A little thing, lasting only a second, and the odds were a thousand +to one that I might have had my eyes on my cards at the time and +missed it. But I didn't, and, in a flash, the air seemed to clear. Some +shadow lifted from my brain, and I was looking at the three men +with full and absolute recognition. + +The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o'clock. + +The three faces seemed to change before my eyes and reveal their +secrets. The young one was the murderer. Now I saw cruelty and +ruthlessness, where before I had only seen good-humour. His knife, +I made certain, had skewered Scudder to the floor. His kind had +put the bullet in Karolides. + +The plump man's features seemed to dislimn, and form again, as +I looked at them. He hadn't a face, only a hundred masks that he +could assume when he pleased. That chap must have been a superb +actor. Perhaps he had been Lord Alloa of the night before; perhaps +not; it didn't matter. I wondered if he was the fellow who had first +tracked Scudder, and left his card on him. Scudder had said he +lisped, and I could imagine how the adoption of a lisp might add terror. + +But the old man was the pick of the lot. He was sheer brain, icy, +cool, calculating, as ruthless as a steam hammer. Now that my eyes +were opened I wondered where I had seen the benevolence. His +jaw was like chilled steel, and his eyes had the inhuman luminosity +of a bird's. I went on playing, and every second a greater hate +welled up in my heart. It almost choked me, and I couldn't answer +when my partner spoke. Only a little longer could I endure +their company. + +'Whew! Bob! Look at the time,' said the old man. 'You'd better +think about catching your train. Bob's got to go to town tonight,' +he added, turning to me. The voice rang now as false as hell. +I looked at the clock, and it was nearly half-past ten. + +'I am afraid he must put off his journey,' I said. + +'Oh, damn,' said the young man. 'I thought you had dropped +that rot. I've simply got to go. You can have my address, and I'll +give any security you like.' + +'No,' I said, 'you must stay.' + +At that I think they must have realized that the game was desperate. +Their only chance had been to convince me that I was playing +the fool, and that had failed. But the old man spoke again. + +'I'll go bail for my nephew. That ought to content you, Mr +Hannay.' Was it fancy, or did I detect some halt in the smoothness +of that voice? + +There must have been, for as I glanced at him, his eyelids fell in +that hawk-like hood which fear had stamped on my memory. + +I blew my whistle. + +In an instant the lights were out. A pair of strong arms gripped +me round the waist, covering the pockets in which a man might be +expected to carry a pistol. + +'SCHNELL, FRANZ,' cried a voice, 'DAS BOOT, DAS BOOT!' As it spoke I +saw two of my fellows emerge on the moonlit lawn. + +The young dark man leapt for the window, was through it, and +over the low fence before a hand could touch him. I grappled the +old chap, and the room seemed to fill with figures. I saw the plump +one collared, but my eyes were all for the out-of-doors, where +Franz sped on over the road towards the railed entrance to the +beach stairs. One man followed him, but he had no chance. The +gate of the stairs locked behind the fugitive, and I stood staring, +with my hands on the old boy's throat, for such a time as a man +might take to descend those steps to the sea. + +Suddenly my prisoner broke from me and flung himself on the +wall. There was a click as if a lever had been pulled. Then came a +low rumbling far, far below the ground, and through the window I +saw a cloud of chalky dust pouring out of the shaft of the stairway. + +Someone switched on the light. + +The old man was looking at me with blazing eyes. + +'He is safe,' he cried. 'You cannot follow in time ... He is +gone ... He has triumphed ... DER SCHWARZE STEIN IST IN DER +SIEGESKRONE.' + +There was more in those eyes than any common triumph. They +had been hooded like a bird of prey, and now they flamed with a +hawk's pride. A white fanatic heat burned in them, and I realized +for the first time the terrible thing I had been up against. This man +was more than a spy; in his foul way he had been a patriot. + +As the handcuffs clinked on his wrists I said my last word to him. + +'I hope Franz will bear his triumph well. I ought to tell you that +the ARIADNE for the last hour has been in our hands.' + + +Three weeks later, as all the world knows, we went to war. I joined +the New Army the first week, and owing to my Matabele experience +got a captain's commission straight off. But I had done my best +service, I think, before I put on khaki. + + + + + +****End of the Project Gutenberg Etext of The Thirty-nine Steps**** + diff --git a/old/39stp10.zip b/old/39stp10.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..2954e0c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/39stp10.zip diff --git a/old/558-20131025.txt b/old/558-20131025.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..609f72c --- /dev/null +++ b/old/558-20131025.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4620 @@ +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirty-nine Steps, by John Buchan + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Thirty-nine Steps + +Author: John Buchan + +Posting Date: July 30, 2008 [EBook #558] +Release Date: June, 1996 +[Last updated: October 25, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + + + + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + + + + + +THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS + + +by + +JOHN BUCHAN + + + + +TO + +THOMAS ARTHUR NELSON + +(LOTHIAN AND BORDER HORSE) + +My Dear Tommy, + +You and I have long cherished an affection for that elemental type of +tale which Americans call the 'dime novel' and which we know as the +'shocker'--the romance where the incidents defy the probabilities, and +march just inside the borders of the possible. During an illness last +winter I exhausted my store of those aids to cheerfulness, and was +driven to write one for myself. This little volume is the result, and +I should like to put your name on it in memory of our long friendship, +in the days when the wildest fictions are so much less improbable than +the facts. + +J.B. + + + +CONTENTS + + 1. The Man Who Died + 2. The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels + 3. The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper + 4. The Adventure of the Radical Candidate + 5. The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman + 6. The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist + 7. The Dry-Fly Fisherman + 8. The Coming of the Black Stone + 9. The Thirty-Nine Steps + 10. Various Parties Converging on the Sea + + + +CHAPTER ONE + +The Man Who Died + +I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon +pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old +Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that +I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but +there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk of the +ordinary Englishman made me sick. I couldn't get enough exercise, and +the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda-water that has been +standing in the sun. 'Richard Hannay,' I kept telling myself, 'you +have got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and you had better climb out.' + +It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building up +those last years in Bulawayo. I had got my pile--not one of the big +ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds of ways +of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from Scotland at the +age of six, and I had never been home since; so England was a sort of +Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on stopping there for the rest of +my days. + +But from the first I was disappointed with it. In about a week I was +tired of seeing sights, and in less than a month I had had enough of +restaurants and theatres and race-meetings. I had no real pal to go +about with, which probably explains things. Plenty of people invited +me to their houses, but they didn't seem much interested in me. They +would fling me a question or two about South Africa, and then get on +their own affairs. A lot of Imperialist ladies asked me to tea to meet +schoolmasters from New Zealand and editors from Vancouver, and that was +the dismalest business of all. Here was I, thirty-seven years old, +sound in wind and limb, with enough money to have a good time, yawning +my head off all day. I had just about settled to clear out and get +back to the veld, for I was the best bored man in the United Kingdom. + +That afternoon I had been worrying my brokers about investments to give +my mind something to work on, and on my way home I turned into my +club--rather a pot-house, which took in Colonial members. I had a long +drink, and read the evening papers. They were full of the row in the +Near East, and there was an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier. +I rather fancied the chap. From all accounts he seemed the one big man +in the show; and he played a straight game too, which was more than +could be said for most of them. I gathered that they hated him pretty +blackly in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, +and one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and +Armageddon. I remember wondering if I could get a job in those parts. +It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might keep a man +from yawning. + +About six o'clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Cafe Royal, and +turned into a music-hall. It was a silly show, all capering women and +monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long. The night was fine and +clear as I walked back to the flat I had hired near Portland Place. +The crowd surged past me on the pavements, busy and chattering, and I +envied the people for having something to do. These shop-girls and +clerks and dandies and policemen had some interest in life that kept +them going. I gave half-a-crown to a beggar because I saw him yawn; he +was a fellow-sufferer. At Oxford Circus I looked up into the spring +sky and I made a vow. I would give the Old Country another day to fit +me into something; if nothing happened, I would take the next boat for +the Cape. + +My flat was the first floor in a new block behind Langham Place. There +was a common staircase, with a porter and a liftman at the entrance, +but there was no restaurant or anything of that sort, and each flat was +quite shut off from the others. I hate servants on the premises, so I +had a fellow to look after me who came in by the day. He arrived +before eight o'clock every morning and used to depart at seven, for I +never dined at home. + +I was just fitting my key into the door when I noticed a man at my +elbow. I had not seen him approach, and the sudden appearance made me +start. He was a slim man, with a short brown beard and small, gimlety +blue eyes. I recognized him as the occupant of a flat on the top +floor, with whom I had passed the time of day on the stairs. + +'Can I speak to you?' he said. 'May I come in for a minute?' He was +steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm. + +I got my door open and motioned him in. No sooner was he over the +threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I used to smoke +and write my letters. Then he bolted back. + +'Is the door locked?' he asked feverishly, and he fastened the chain +with his own hand. + +'I'm very sorry,' he said humbly. 'It's a mighty liberty, but you +looked the kind of man who would understand. I've had you in my mind +all this week when things got troublesome. Say, will you do me a good +turn?' + +'I'll listen to you,' I said. 'That's all I'll promise.' I was +getting worried by the antics of this nervous little chap. + +There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he filled +himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three gulps, and +cracked the glass as he set it down. + +'Pardon,' he said, 'I'm a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at +this moment to be dead.' + +I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe. + +'What does it feel like?' I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to +deal with a madman. + +A smile flickered over his drawn face. 'I'm not mad--yet. Say, Sir, +I've been watching you, and I reckon you're a cool customer. I reckon, +too, you're an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold hand. I'm +going to confide in you. I need help worse than any man ever needed +it, and I want to know if I can count you in.' + +'Get on with your yarn,' I said, 'and I'll tell you.' + +He seemed to brace himself for a great effort, and then started on the +queerest rigmarole. I didn't get hold of it at first, and I had to +stop and ask him questions. But here is the gist of it: + +He was an American, from Kentucky, and after college, being pretty well +off, he had started out to see the world. He wrote a bit, and acted as +war correspondent for a Chicago paper, and spent a year or two in +South-Eastern Europe. I gathered that he was a fine linguist, and had +got to know pretty well the society in those parts. He spoke +familiarly of many names that I remembered to have seen in the +newspapers. + +He had played about with politics, he told me, at first for the +interest of them, and then because he couldn't help himself. I read +him as a sharp, restless fellow, who always wanted to get down to the +roots of things. He got a little further down than he wanted. + +I am giving you what he told me as well as I could make it out. Away +behind all the Governments and the armies there was a big subterranean +movement going on, engineered by very dangerous people. He had come on +it by accident; it fascinated him; he went further, and then he got +caught. I gathered that most of the people in it were the sort of +educated anarchists that make revolutions, but that beside them there +were financiers who were playing for money. A clever man can make big +profits on a falling market, and it suited the book of both classes to +set Europe by the ears. + +He told me some queer things that explained a lot that had puzzled +me--things that happened in the Balkan War, how one state suddenly came +out on top, why alliances were made and broken, why certain men +disappeared, and where the sinews of war came from. The aim of the +whole conspiracy was to get Russia and Germany at loggerheads. + +When I asked why, he said that the anarchist lot thought it would give +them their chance. Everything would be in the melting-pot, and they +looked to see a new world emerge. The capitalists would rake in the +shekels, and make fortunes by buying up wreckage. Capital, he said, +had no conscience and no fatherland. Besides, the Jew was behind it, +and the Jew hated Russia worse than hell. + +'Do you wonder?' he cried. 'For three hundred years they have been +persecuted, and this is the return match for the pogroms. The Jew is +everywhere, but you have to go far down the backstairs to find him. +Take any big Teutonic business concern. If you have dealings with it +the first man you meet is Prince von und Zu Something, an elegant young +man who talks Eton-and-Harrow English. But he cuts no ice. If your +business is big, you get behind him and find a prognathous Westphalian +with a retreating brow and the manners of a hog. He is the German +business man that gives your English papers the shakes. But if you're +on the biggest kind of job and are bound to get to the real boss, ten +to one you are brought up against a little white-faced Jew in a +bath-chair with an eye like a rattlesnake. Yes, Sir, he is the man who +is ruling the world just now, and he has his knife in the Empire of the +Tzar, because his aunt was outraged and his father flogged in some +one-horse location on the Volga.' + +I could not help saying that his Jew-anarchists seemed to have got left +behind a little. + +'Yes and no,' he said. 'They won up to a point, but they struck a +bigger thing than money, a thing that couldn't be bought, the old +elemental fighting instincts of man. If you're going to be killed you +invent some kind of flag and country to fight for, and if you survive +you get to love the thing. Those foolish devils of soldiers have found +something they care for, and that has upset the pretty plan laid in +Berlin and Vienna. But my friends haven't played their last card by a +long sight. They've gotten the ace up their sleeves, and unless I can +keep alive for a month they are going to play it and win.' + +'But I thought you were dead,' I put in. + +'MORS JANUA VITAE,' he smiled. (I recognized the quotation: it was +about all the Latin I knew.) 'I'm coming to that, but I've got to put +you wise about a lot of things first. If you read your newspaper, I +guess you know the name of Constantine Karolides?' + +I sat up at that, for I had been reading about him that very afternoon. + +'He is the man that has wrecked all their games. He is the one big +brain in the whole show, and he happens also to be an honest man. +Therefore he has been marked down these twelve months past. I found +that out--not that it was difficult, for any fool could guess as much. +But I found out the way they were going to get him, and that knowledge +was deadly. That's why I have had to decease.' + +He had another drink, and I mixed it for him myself, for I was getting +interested in the beggar. + +'They can't get him in his own land, for he has a bodyguard of Epirotes +that would skin their grandmothers. But on the 15th day of June he is +coming to this city. The British Foreign Office has taken to having +International tea-parties, and the biggest of them is due on that date. +Now Karolides is reckoned the principal guest, and if my friends have +their way he will never return to his admiring countrymen.' + +'That's simple enough, anyhow,' I said. 'You can warn him and keep him +at home.' + +'And play their game?' he asked sharply. 'If he does not come they +win, for he's the only man that can straighten out the tangle. And if +his Government are warned he won't come, for he does not know how big +the stakes will be on June the 15th.' + +'What about the British Government?' I said. 'They're not going to let +their guests be murdered. Tip them the wink, and they'll take extra +precautions.' + +'No good. They might stuff your city with plain-clothes detectives and +double the police and Constantine would still be a doomed man. My +friends are not playing this game for candy. They want a big occasion +for the taking off, with the eyes of all Europe on it. He'll be +murdered by an Austrian, and there'll be plenty of evidence to show the +connivance of the big folk in Vienna and Berlin. It will all be an +infernal lie, of course, but the case will look black enough to the +world. I'm not talking hot air, my friend. I happen to know every +detail of the hellish contrivance, and I can tell you it will be the +most finished piece of blackguardism since the Borgias. But it's not +going to come off if there's a certain man who knows the wheels of the +business alive right here in London on the 15th day of June. And that +man is going to be your servant, Franklin P. Scudder.' + +I was getting to like the little chap. His jaw had shut like a +rat-trap, and there was the fire of battle in his gimlety eyes. If he +was spinning me a yarn he could act up to it. + +'Where did you find out this story?' I asked. + +'I got the first hint in an inn on the Achensee in Tyrol. That set me +inquiring, and I collected my other clues in a fur-shop in the Galician +quarter of Buda, in a Strangers' Club in Vienna, and in a little +bookshop off the Racknitzstrasse in Leipsic. I completed my evidence +ten days ago in Paris. I can't tell you the details now, for it's +something of a history. When I was quite sure in my own mind I judged +it my business to disappear, and I reached this city by a mighty queer +circuit. I left Paris a dandified young French-American, and I sailed +from Hamburg a Jew diamond merchant. In Norway I was an English +student of Ibsen collecting materials for lectures, but when I left +Bergen I was a cinema-man with special ski films. And I came here from +Leith with a lot of pulp-wood propositions in my pocket to put before +the London newspapers. Till yesterday I thought I had muddied my trail +some, and was feeling pretty happy. Then ...' + +The recollection seemed to upset him, and he gulped down some more +whisky. + +'Then I saw a man standing in the street outside this block. I used to +stay close in my room all day, and only slip out after dark for an hour +or two. I watched him for a bit from my window, and I thought I +recognized him ... He came in and spoke to the porter ... When I came +back from my walk last night I found a card in my letter-box. It bore +the name of the man I want least to meet on God's earth.' + +I think that the look in my companion's eyes, the sheer naked scare on +his face, completed my conviction of his honesty. My own voice +sharpened a bit as I asked him what he did next. + +'I realized that I was bottled as sure as a pickled herring, and that +there was only one way out. I had to die. If my pursuers knew I was +dead they would go to sleep again.' + +'How did you manage it?' + +'I told the man that valets me that I was feeling pretty bad, and I got +myself up to look like death. That wasn't difficult, for I'm no slouch +at disguises. Then I got a corpse--you can always get a body in London +if you know where to go for it. I fetched it back in a trunk on the +top of a four-wheeler, and I had to be assisted upstairs to my room. +You see I had to pile up some evidence for the inquest. I went to bed +and got my man to mix me a sleeping-draught, and then told him to clear +out. He wanted to fetch a doctor, but I swore some and said I couldn't +abide leeches. When I was left alone I started in to fake up that +corpse. He was my size, and I judged had perished from too much +alcohol, so I put some spirits handy about the place. The jaw was the +weak point in the likeness, so I blew it away with a revolver. I +daresay there will be somebody tomorrow to swear to having heard a +shot, but there are no neighbours on my floor, and I guessed I could +risk it. So I left the body in bed dressed up in my pyjamas, with a +revolver lying on the bed-clothes and a considerable mess around. Then +I got into a suit of clothes I had kept waiting for emergencies. I +didn't dare to shave for fear of leaving tracks, and besides, it wasn't +any kind of use my trying to get into the streets. I had had you in my +mind all day, and there seemed nothing to do but to make an appeal to +you. I watched from my window till I saw you come home, and then +slipped down the stair to meet you ... There, Sir, I guess you know +about as much as me of this business.' + +He sat blinking like an owl, fluttering with nerves and yet desperately +determined. By this time I was pretty well convinced that he was going +straight with me. It was the wildest sort of narrative, but I had +heard in my time many steep tales which had turned out to be true, and +I had made a practice of judging the man rather than the story. If he +had wanted to get a location in my flat, and then cut my throat, he +would have pitched a milder yarn. + +'Hand me your key,' I said, 'and I'll take a look at the corpse. +Excuse my caution, but I'm bound to verify a bit if I can.' + +He shook his head mournfully. 'I reckoned you'd ask for that, but I +haven't got it. It's on my chain on the dressing-table. I had to +leave it behind, for I couldn't leave any clues to breed suspicions. +The gentry who are after me are pretty bright-eyed citizens. You'll +have to take me on trust for the night, and tomorrow you'll get proof +of the corpse business right enough.' + +I thought for an instant or two. 'Right. I'll trust you for the +night. I'll lock you into this room and keep the key. Just one word, +Mr Scudder. I believe you're straight, but if so be you are not I +should warn you that I'm a handy man with a gun.' + +'Sure,' he said, jumping up with some briskness. 'I haven't the +privilege of your name, Sir, but let me tell you that you're a white +man. I'll thank you to lend me a razor.' + +I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose. In half an hour's +time a figure came out that I scarcely recognized. Only his gimlety, +hungry eyes were the same. He was shaved clean, his hair was parted in +the middle, and he had cut his eyebrows. Further, he carried himself +as if he had been drilled, and was the very model, even to the brown +complexion, of some British officer who had had a long spell in India. +He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in his eye, and every trace of +the American had gone out of his speech. + +'My hat! Mr Scudder--' I stammered. + +'Not Mr Scudder,' he corrected; 'Captain Theophilus Digby, of the 40th +Gurkhas, presently home on leave. I'll thank you to remember that, +Sir.' + +I made him up a bed in my smoking-room and sought my own couch, more +cheerful than I had been for the past month. Things did happen +occasionally, even in this God-forgotten metropolis. + +I woke next morning to hear my man, Paddock, making the deuce of a row +at the smoking-room door. Paddock was a fellow I had done a good turn +to out on the Selakwe, and I had inspanned him as my servant as soon as +I got to England. He had about as much gift of the gab as a +hippopotamus, and was not a great hand at valeting, but I knew I could +count on his loyalty. + +'Stop that row, Paddock,' I said. 'There's a friend of mine, +Captain--Captain' (I couldn't remember the name) 'dossing down in +there. Get breakfast for two and then come and speak to me.' + +I told Paddock a fine story about how my friend was a great swell, with +his nerves pretty bad from overwork, who wanted absolute rest and +stillness. Nobody had got to know he was here, or he would be besieged +by communications from the India Office and the Prime Minister and his +cure would be ruined. I am bound to say Scudder played up splendidly +when he came to breakfast. He fixed Paddock with his eyeglass, just +like a British officer, asked him about the Boer War, and slung out at +me a lot of stuff about imaginary pals. Paddock couldn't learn to call +me 'Sir', but he 'sirred' Scudder as if his life depended on it. + +I left him with the newspaper and a box of cigars, and went down to the +City till luncheon. When I got back the lift-man had an important face. + +'Nawsty business 'ere this morning, Sir. Gent in No. 15 been and shot +'isself. They've just took 'im to the mortiary. The police are up +there now.' + +I ascended to No. 15, and found a couple of bobbies and an inspector +busy making an examination. I asked a few idiotic questions, and they +soon kicked me out. Then I found the man that had valeted Scudder, and +pumped him, but I could see he suspected nothing. He was a whining +fellow with a churchyard face, and half-a-crown went far to console him. + +I attended the inquest next day. A partner of some publishing firm +gave evidence that the deceased had brought him wood-pulp propositions, +and had been, he believed, an agent of an American business. The jury +found it a case of suicide while of unsound mind, and the few effects +were handed over to the American Consul to deal with. I gave Scudder a +full account of the affair, and it interested him greatly. He said he +wished he could have attended the inquest, for he reckoned it would be +about as spicy as to read one's own obituary notice. + +The first two days he stayed with me in that back room he was very +peaceful. He read and smoked a bit, and made a heap of jottings in a +note-book, and every night we had a game of chess, at which he beat me +hollow. I think he was nursing his nerves back to health, for he had +had a pretty trying time. But on the third day I could see he was +beginning to get restless. He fixed up a list of the days till June +15th, and ticked each off with a red pencil, making remarks in +shorthand against them. I would find him sunk in a brown study, with +his sharp eyes abstracted, and after those spells of meditation he was +apt to be very despondent. + +Then I could see that he began to get edgy again. He listened for +little noises, and was always asking me if Paddock could be trusted. +Once or twice he got very peevish, and apologized for it. I didn't +blame him. I made every allowance, for he had taken on a fairly stiff +job. + +It was not the safety of his own skin that troubled him, but the +success of the scheme he had planned. That little man was clean grit +all through, without a soft spot in him. One night he was very solemn. + +'Say, Hannay,' he said, 'I judge I should let you a bit deeper into +this business. I should hate to go out without leaving somebody else +to put up a fight.' And he began to tell me in detail what I had only +heard from him vaguely. + +I did not give him very close attention. The fact is, I was more +interested in his own adventures than in his high politics. I reckoned +that Karolides and his affairs were not my business, leaving all that +to him. So a lot that he said slipped clean out of my memory. I +remember that he was very clear that the danger to Karolides would not +begin till he had got to London, and would come from the very highest +quarters, where there would be no thought of suspicion. He mentioned +the name of a woman--Julia Czechenyi--as having something to do with +the danger. She would be the decoy, I gathered, to get Karolides out +of the care of his guards. He talked, too, about a Black Stone and a +man that lisped in his speech, and he described very particularly +somebody that he never referred to without a shudder--an old man with a +young voice who could hood his eyes like a hawk. + +He spoke a good deal about death, too. He was mortally anxious about +winning through with his job, but he didn't care a rush for his life. + +'I reckon it's like going to sleep when you are pretty well tired out, +and waking to find a summer day with the scent of hay coming in at the +window. I used to thank God for such mornings way back in the +Blue-Grass country, and I guess I'll thank Him when I wake up on the +other side of Jordan.' + +Next day he was much more cheerful, and read the life of Stonewall +Jackson much of the time. I went out to dinner with a mining engineer +I had got to see on business, and came back about half-past ten in time +for our game of chess before turning in. + +I had a cigar in my mouth, I remember, as I pushed open the +smoking-room door. The lights were not lit, which struck me as odd. I +wondered if Scudder had turned in already. + +I snapped the switch, but there was nobody there. Then I saw something +in the far corner which made me drop my cigar and fall into a cold +sweat. + +My guest was lying sprawled on his back. There was a long knife +through his heart which skewered him to the floor. + + + +CHAPTER TWO + +The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels + +I sat down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for maybe +five minutes, and was succeeded by a fit of the horrors. The poor +staring white face on the floor was more than I could bear, and I +managed to get a table-cloth and cover it. Then I staggered to a +cupboard, found the brandy and swallowed several mouthfuls. I had seen +men die violently before; indeed I had killed a few myself in the +Matabele War; but this cold-blooded indoor business was different. +Still I managed to pull myself together. I looked at my watch, and saw +that it was half-past ten. + +An idea seized me, and I went over the flat with a small-tooth comb. +There was nobody there, nor any trace of anybody, but I shuttered and +bolted all the windows and put the chain on the door. By this time my +wits were coming back to me, and I could think again. It took me about +an hour to figure the thing out, and I did not hurry, for, unless the +murderer came back, I had till about six o'clock in the morning for my +cogitations. + +I was in the soup--that was pretty clear. Any shadow of a doubt I +might have had about the truth of Scudder's tale was now gone. The +proof of it was lying under the table-cloth. The men who knew that he +knew what he knew had found him, and had taken the best way to make +certain of his silence. Yes; but he had been in my rooms four days, +and his enemies must have reckoned that he had confided in me. So I +would be the next to go. It might be that very night, or next day, or +the day after, but my number was up all right. + +Then suddenly I thought of another probability. Supposing I went out +now and called in the police, or went to bed and let Paddock find the +body and call them in the morning. What kind of a story was I to tell +about Scudder? I had lied to Paddock about him, and the whole thing +looked desperately fishy. If I made a clean breast of it and told the +police everything he had told me, they would simply laugh at me. The +odds were a thousand to one that I would be charged with the murder, +and the circumstantial evidence was strong enough to hang me. Few +people knew me in England; I had no real pal who could come forward and +swear to my character. Perhaps that was what those secret enemies were +playing for. They were clever enough for anything, and an English +prison was as good a way of getting rid of me till after June 15th as a +knife in my chest. + +Besides, if I told the whole story, and by any miracle was believed, I +would be playing their game. Karolides would stay at home, which was +what they wanted. Somehow or other the sight of Scudder's dead face +had made me a passionate believer in his scheme. He was gone, but he +had taken me into his confidence, and I was pretty well bound to carry +on his work. + +You may think this ridiculous for a man in danger of his life, but that +was the way I looked at it. I am an ordinary sort of fellow, not +braver than other people, but I hate to see a good man downed, and that +long knife would not be the end of Scudder if I could play the game in +his place. + +It took me an hour or two to think this out, and by that time I had +come to a decision. I must vanish somehow, and keep vanished till the +end of the second week in June. Then I must somehow find a way to get +in touch with the Government people and tell them what Scudder had told +me. I wished to Heaven he had told me more, and that I had listened +more carefully to the little he had told me. I knew nothing but the +barest facts. There was a big risk that, even if I weathered the other +dangers, I would not be believed in the end. I must take my chance of +that, and hope that something might happen which would confirm my tale +in the eyes of the Government. + +My first job was to keep going for the next three weeks. It was now +the 24th day of May, and that meant twenty days of hiding before I +could venture to approach the powers that be. I reckoned that two sets +of people would be looking for me--Scudder's enemies to put me out of +existence, and the police, who would want me for Scudder's murder. It +was going to be a giddy hunt, and it was queer how the prospect +comforted me. I had been slack so long that almost any chance of +activity was welcome. When I had to sit alone with that corpse and +wait on Fortune I was no better than a crushed worm, but if my neck's +safety was to hang on my own wits I was prepared to be cheerful about +it. + +My next thought was whether Scudder had any papers about him to give me +a better clue to the business. I drew back the table-cloth and +searched his pockets, for I had no longer any shrinking from the body. +The face was wonderfully calm for a man who had been struck down in a +moment. There was nothing in the breast-pocket, and only a few loose +coins and a cigar-holder in the waistcoat. The trousers held a little +penknife and some silver, and the side pocket of his jacket contained +an old crocodile-skin cigar-case. There was no sign of the little +black book in which I had seen him making notes. That had no doubt +been taken by his murderer. + +But as I looked up from my task I saw that some drawers had been pulled +out in the writing-table. Scudder would never have left them in that +state, for he was the tidiest of mortals. Someone must have been +searching for something--perhaps for the pocket-book. + +I went round the flat and found that everything had been ransacked--the +inside of books, drawers, cupboards, boxes, even the pockets of the +clothes in my wardrobe, and the sideboard in the dining-room. There +was no trace of the book. Most likely the enemy had found it, but they +had not found it on Scudder's body. + +Then I got out an atlas and looked at a big map of the British Isles. +My notion was to get off to some wild district, where my veldcraft +would be of some use to me, for I would be like a trapped rat in a +city. I considered that Scotland would be best, for my people were +Scotch and I could pass anywhere as an ordinary Scotsman. I had half +an idea at first to be a German tourist, for my father had had German +partners, and I had been brought up to speak the tongue pretty +fluently, not to mention having put in three years prospecting for +copper in German Damaraland. But I calculated that it would be less +conspicuous to be a Scot, and less in a line with what the police might +know of my past. I fixed on Galloway as the best place to go. It was +the nearest wild part of Scotland, so far as I could figure it out, and +from the look of the map was not over thick with population. + +A search in Bradshaw informed me that a train left St Pancras at 7.10, +which would land me at any Galloway station in the late afternoon. +That was well enough, but a more important matter was how I was to make +my way to St Pancras, for I was pretty certain that Scudder's friends +would be watching outside. This puzzled me for a bit; then I had an +inspiration, on which I went to bed and slept for two troubled hours. + +I got up at four and opened my bedroom shutters. The faint light of a +fine summer morning was flooding the skies, and the sparrows had begun +to chatter. I had a great revulsion of feeling, and felt a +God-forgotten fool. My inclination was to let things slide, and trust +to the British police taking a reasonable view of my case. But as I +reviewed the situation I could find no arguments to bring against my +decision of the previous night, so with a wry mouth I resolved to go on +with my plan. I was not feeling in any particular funk; only +disinclined to go looking for trouble, if you understand me. + +I hunted out a well-used tweed suit, a pair of strong nailed boots, and +a flannel shirt with a collar. Into my pockets I stuffed a spare +shirt, a cloth cap, some handkerchiefs, and a tooth-brush. I had drawn +a good sum in gold from the bank two days before, in case Scudder +should want money, and I took fifty pounds of it in sovereigns in a +belt which I had brought back from Rhodesia. That was about all I +wanted. Then I had a bath, and cut my moustache, which was long and +drooping, into a short stubbly fringe. + +Now came the next step. Paddock used to arrive punctually at 7.30 and +let himself in with a latch-key. But about twenty minutes to seven, as +I knew from bitter experience, the milkman turned up with a great +clatter of cans, and deposited my share outside my door. I had seen +that milkman sometimes when I had gone out for an early ride. He was a +young man about my own height, with an ill-nourished moustache, and he +wore a white overall. On him I staked all my chances. + +I went into the darkened smoking-room where the rays of morning light +were beginning to creep through the shutters. There I breakfasted off +a whisky-and-soda and some biscuits from the cupboard. By this time it +was getting on for six o'clock. I put a pipe in my pocket and filled +my pouch from the tobacco jar on the table by the fireplace. + +As I poked into the tobacco my fingers touched something hard, and I +drew out Scudder's little black pocket-book ... + +That seemed to me a good omen. I lifted the cloth from the body and +was amazed at the peace and dignity of the dead face. 'Goodbye, old +chap,' I said; 'I am going to do my best for you. Wish me well, +wherever you are.' + +Then I hung about in the hall waiting for the milkman. That was the +worst part of the business, for I was fairly choking to get out of +doors. Six-thirty passed, then six-forty, but still he did not come. +The fool had chosen this day of all days to be late. + +At one minute after the quarter to seven I heard the rattle of the cans +outside. I opened the front door, and there was my man, singling out +my cans from a bunch he carried and whistling through his teeth. He +jumped a bit at the sight of me. + +'Come in here a moment,' I said. 'I want a word with you.' And I led +him into the dining-room. + +'I reckon you're a bit of a sportsman,' I said, 'and I want you to do +me a service. Lend me your cap and overall for ten minutes, and here's +a sovereign for you.' + +His eyes opened at the sight of the gold, and he grinned broadly. +'Wot's the gyme?'he asked. + +'A bet,' I said. 'I haven't time to explain, but to win it I've got to +be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you've got to do is to stay +here till I come back. You'll be a bit late, but nobody will complain, +and you'll have that quid for yourself.' + +'Right-o!' he said cheerily. 'I ain't the man to spoil a bit of sport. +'Ere's the rig, guv'nor.' + +I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the cans, +banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter at the foot +told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up was adequate. + +At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught sight +of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling past on the +other side. Some impulse made me raise my eyes to the house opposite, +and there at a first-floor window was a face. As the loafer passed he +looked up, and I fancied a signal was exchanged. + +I crossed the street, whistling gaily and imitating the jaunty swing of +the milkman. Then I took the first side street, and went up a +left-hand turning which led past a bit of vacant ground. There was no +one in the little street, so I dropped the milk-cans inside the +hoarding and sent the cap and overall after them. I had only just put +on my cloth cap when a postman came round the corner. I gave him good +morning and he answered me unsuspiciously. At the moment the clock of +a neighbouring church struck the hour of seven. + +There was not a second to spare. As soon as I got to Euston Road I +took to my heels and ran. The clock at Euston Station showed five +minutes past the hour. At St Pancras I had no time to take a ticket, +let alone that I had not settled upon my destination. A porter told me +the platform, and as I entered it I saw the train already in motion. +Two station officials blocked the way, but I dodged them and clambered +into the last carriage. + +Three minutes later, as we were roaring through the northern tunnels, +an irate guard interviewed me. He wrote out for me a ticket to +Newton-Stewart, a name which had suddenly come back to my memory, and +he conducted me from the first-class compartment where I had ensconced +myself to a third-class smoker, occupied by a sailor and a stout woman +with a child. He went off grumbling, and as I mopped my brow I +observed to my companions in my broadest Scots that it was a sore job +catching trains. I had already entered upon my part. + +'The impidence o' that gyaird!' said the lady bitterly. 'He needit a +Scotch tongue to pit him in his place. He was complainin' o' this wean +no haein' a ticket and her no fower till August twalmonth, and he was +objectin' to this gentleman spittin'.' + +The sailor morosely agreed, and I started my new life in an atmosphere +of protest against authority. I reminded myself that a week ago I had +been finding the world dull. + + + +CHAPTER THREE + +The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper + +I had a solemn time travelling north that day. It was fine May +weather, with the hawthorn flowering on every hedge, and I asked myself +why, when I was still a free man, I had stayed on in London and not got +the good of this heavenly country. I didn't dare face the restaurant +car, but I got a luncheon-basket at Leeds and shared it with the fat +woman. Also I got the morning's papers, with news about starters for +the Derby and the beginning of the cricket season, and some paragraphs +about how Balkan affairs were settling down and a British squadron was +going to Kiel. + +When I had done with them I got out Scudder's little black pocket-book +and studied it. It was pretty well filled with jottings, chiefly +figures, though now and then a name was printed in. For example, I +found the words 'Hofgaard', 'Luneville', and 'Avocado' pretty often, +and especially the word 'Pavia'. + +Now I was certain that Scudder never did anything without a reason, and +I was pretty sure that there was a cypher in all this. That is a +subject which has always interested me, and I did a bit at it myself +once as intelligence officer at Delagoa Bay during the Boer War. I +have a head for things like chess and puzzles, and I used to reckon +myself pretty good at finding out cyphers. This one looked like the +numerical kind where sets of figures correspond to the letters of the +alphabet, but any fairly shrewd man can find the clue to that sort +after an hour or two's work, and I didn't think Scudder would have been +content with anything so easy. So I fastened on the printed words, for +you can make a pretty good numerical cypher if you have a key word +which gives you the sequence of the letters. + +I tried for hours, but none of the words answered. Then I fell asleep +and woke at Dumfries just in time to bundle out and get into the slow +Galloway train. There was a man on the platform whose looks I didn't +like, but he never glanced at me, and when I caught sight of myself in +the mirror of an automatic machine I didn't wonder. With my brown +face, my old tweeds, and my slouch, I was the very model of one of the +hill farmers who were crowding into the third-class carriages. + +I travelled with half a dozen in an atmosphere of shag and clay pipes. +They had come from the weekly market, and their mouths were full of +prices. I heard accounts of how the lambing had gone up the Cairn and +the Deuch and a dozen other mysterious waters. Above half the men had +lunched heavily and were highly flavoured with whisky, but they took no +notice of me. We rumbled slowly into a land of little wooded glens and +then to a great wide moorland place, gleaming with lochs, with high +blue hills showing northwards. + +About five o'clock the carriage had emptied, and I was left alone as I +had hoped. I got out at the next station, a little place whose name I +scarcely noted, set right in the heart of a bog. It reminded me of one +of those forgotten little stations in the Karroo. An old +station-master was digging in his garden, and with his spade over his +shoulder sauntered to the train, took charge of a parcel, and went back +to his potatoes. A child of ten received my ticket, and I emerged on a +white road that straggled over the brown moor. + +It was a gorgeous spring evening, with every hill showing as clear as a +cut amethyst. The air had the queer, rooty smell of bogs, but it was +as fresh as mid-ocean, and it had the strangest effect on my spirits. +I actually felt light-hearted. I might have been a boy out for a +spring holiday tramp, instead of a man of thirty-seven very much wanted +by the police. I felt just as I used to feel when I was starting for a +big trek on a frosty morning on the high veld. If you believe me, I +swung along that road whistling. There was no plan of campaign in my +head, only just to go on and on in this blessed, honest-smelling hill +country, for every mile put me in better humour with myself. + +In a roadside planting I cut a walking-stick of hazel, and presently +struck off the highway up a bypath which followed the glen of a +brawling stream. I reckoned that I was still far ahead of any pursuit, +and for that night might please myself. It was some hours since I had +tasted food, and I was getting very hungry when I came to a herd's +cottage set in a nook beside a waterfall. A brown-faced woman was +standing by the door, and greeted me with the kindly shyness of +moorland places. When I asked for a night's lodging she said I was +welcome to the 'bed in the loft', and very soon she set before me a +hearty meal of ham and eggs, scones, and thick sweet milk. + +At the darkening her man came in from the hills, a lean giant, who in +one step covered as much ground as three paces of ordinary mortals. +They asked me no questions, for they had the perfect breeding of all +dwellers in the wilds, but I could see they set me down as a kind of +dealer, and I took some trouble to confirm their view. I spoke a lot +about cattle, of which my host knew little, and I picked up from him a +good deal about the local Galloway markets, which I tucked away in my +memory for future use. At ten I was nodding in my chair, and the 'bed +in the loft' received a weary man who never opened his eyes till five +o'clock set the little homestead a-going once more. + +They refused any payment, and by six I had breakfasted and was striding +southwards again. My notion was to return to the railway line a +station or two farther on than the place where I had alighted yesterday +and to double back. I reckoned that that was the safest way, for the +police would naturally assume that I was always making farther from +London in the direction of some western port. I thought I had still a +good bit of a start, for, as I reasoned, it would take some hours to +fix the blame on me, and several more to identify the fellow who got on +board the train at St Pancras. + +It was the same jolly, clear spring weather, and I simply could not +contrive to feel careworn. Indeed I was in better spirits than I had +been for months. Over a long ridge of moorland I took my road, +skirting the side of a high hill which the herd had called Cairnsmore +of Fleet. Nesting curlews and plovers were crying everywhere, and the +links of green pasture by the streams were dotted with young lambs. +All the slackness of the past months was slipping from my bones, and I +stepped out like a four-year-old. By-and-by I came to a swell of +moorland which dipped to the vale of a little river, and a mile away in +the heather I saw the smoke of a train. + +The station, when I reached it, proved to be ideal for my purpose. The +moor surged up around it and left room only for the single line, the +slender siding, a waiting-room, an office, the station-master's +cottage, and a tiny yard of gooseberries and sweet-william. There +seemed no road to it from anywhere, and to increase the desolation the +waves of a tarn lapped on their grey granite beach half a mile away. I +waited in the deep heather till I saw the smoke of an east-going train +on the horizon. Then I approached the tiny booking-office and took a +ticket for Dumfries. + +The only occupants of the carriage were an old shepherd and his dog--a +wall-eyed brute that I mistrusted. The man was asleep, and on the +cushions beside him was that morning's SCOTSMAN. Eagerly I seized on +it, for I fancied it would tell me something. + +There were two columns about the Portland Place Murder, as it was +called. My man Paddock had given the alarm and had the milkman +arrested. Poor devil, it looked as if the latter had earned his +sovereign hardly; but for me he had been cheap at the price, for he +seemed to have occupied the police for the better part of the day. In +the latest news I found a further instalment of the story. The milkman +had been released, I read, and the true criminal, about whose identity +the police were reticent, was believed to have got away from London by +one of the northern lines. There was a short note about me as the +owner of the flat. I guessed the police had stuck that in, as a clumsy +contrivance to persuade me that I was unsuspected. + +There was nothing else in the paper, nothing about foreign politics or +Karolides, or the things that had interested Scudder. I laid it down, +and found that we were approaching the station at which I had got out +yesterday. The potato-digging station-master had been gingered up into +some activity, for the west-going train was waiting to let us pass, and +from it had descended three men who were asking him questions. I +supposed that they were the local police, who had been stirred up by +Scotland Yard, and had traced me as far as this one-horse siding. +Sitting well back in the shadow I watched them carefully. One of them +had a book, and took down notes. The old potato-digger seemed to have +turned peevish, but the child who had collected my ticket was talking +volubly. All the party looked out across the moor where the white road +departed. I hoped they were going to take up my tracks there. + +As we moved away from that station my companion woke up. He fixed me +with a wandering glance, kicked his dog viciously, and inquired where +he was. Clearly he was very drunk. + +'That's what comes o' bein' a teetotaller,' he observed in bitter +regret. + +I expressed my surprise that in him I should have met a blue-ribbon +stalwart. + +'Ay, but I'm a strong teetotaller,' he said pugnaciously. 'I took the +pledge last Martinmas, and I havena touched a drop o' whisky sinsyne. +Not even at Hogmanay, though I was sair temptit.' + +He swung his heels up on the seat, and burrowed a frowsy head into the +cushions. + +'And that's a' I get,' he moaned. 'A heid better than hell fire, and +twae een lookin' different ways for the Sabbath.' + +'What did it?' I asked. + +'A drink they ca' brandy. Bein' a teetotaller I keepit off the whisky, +but I was nip-nippin' a' day at this brandy, and I doubt I'll no be +weel for a fortnicht.' His voice died away into a splutter, and sleep +once more laid its heavy hand on him. + +My plan had been to get out at some station down the line, but the +train suddenly gave me a better chance, for it came to a standstill at +the end of a culvert which spanned a brawling porter-coloured river. I +looked out and saw that every carriage window was closed and no human +figure appeared in the landscape. So I opened the door, and dropped +quickly into the tangle of hazels which edged the line. + +It would have been all right but for that infernal dog. Under the +impression that I was decamping with its master's belongings, it +started to bark, and all but got me by the trousers. This woke up the +herd, who stood bawling at the carriage door in the belief that I had +committed suicide. I crawled through the thicket, reached the edge of +the stream, and in cover of the bushes put a hundred yards or so behind +me. Then from my shelter I peered back, and saw the guard and several +passengers gathered round the open carriage door and staring in my +direction. I could not have made a more public departure if I had left +with a bugler and a brass band. + +Happily the drunken herd provided a diversion. He and his dog, which +was attached by a rope to his waist, suddenly cascaded out of the +carriage, landed on their heads on the track, and rolled some way down +the bank towards the water. In the rescue which followed the dog bit +somebody, for I could hear the sound of hard swearing. Presently they +had forgotten me, and when after a quarter of a mile's crawl I ventured +to look back, the train had started again and was vanishing in the +cutting. + +I was in a wide semicircle of moorland, with the brown river as radius, +and the high hills forming the northern circumference. There was not a +sign or sound of a human being, only the plashing water and the +interminable crying of curlews. Yet, oddly enough, for the first time +I felt the terror of the hunted on me. It was not the police that I +thought of, but the other folk, who knew that I knew Scudder's secret +and dared not let me live. I was certain that they would pursue me +with a keenness and vigilance unknown to the British law, and that once +their grip closed on me I should find no mercy. + +I looked back, but there was nothing in the landscape. The sun glinted +on the metals of the line and the wet stones in the stream, and you +could not have found a more peaceful sight in the world. Nevertheless +I started to run. Crouching low in the runnels of the bog, I ran till +the sweat blinded my eyes. The mood did not leave me till I had +reached the rim of mountain and flung myself panting on a ridge high +above the young waters of the brown river. + +From my vantage-ground I could scan the whole moor right away to the +railway line and to the south of it where green fields took the place +of heather. I have eyes like a hawk, but I could see nothing moving in +the whole countryside. Then I looked east beyond the ridge and saw a +new kind of landscape--shallow green valleys with plentiful fir +plantations and the faint lines of dust which spoke of highroads. Last +of all I looked into the blue May sky, and there I saw that which set +my pulses racing ... + +Low down in the south a monoplane was climbing into the heavens. I was +as certain as if I had been told that that aeroplane was looking for +me, and that it did not belong to the police. For an hour or two I +watched it from a pit of heather. It flew low along the hill-tops, and +then in narrow circles over the valley up which I had come. Then it +seemed to change its mind, rose to a great height, and flew away back +to the south. + +I did not like this espionage from the air, and I began to think less +well of the countryside I had chosen for a refuge. These heather hills +were no sort of cover if my enemies were in the sky, and I must find a +different kind of sanctuary. I looked with more satisfaction to the +green country beyond the ridge, for there I should find woods and stone +houses. + +About six in the evening I came out of the moorland to a white ribbon +of road which wound up the narrow vale of a lowland stream. As I +followed it, fields gave place to bent, the glen became a plateau, and +presently I had reached a kind of pass where a solitary house smoked in +the twilight. The road swung over a bridge, and leaning on the parapet +was a young man. + +He was smoking a long clay pipe and studying the water with spectacled +eyes. In his left hand was a small book with a finger marking the +place. Slowly he repeated-- + + As when a Gryphon through the wilderness + With winged step, o'er hill and moory dale + Pursues the Arimaspian. + +He jumped round as my step rung on the keystone, and I saw a pleasant +sunburnt boyish face. + +'Good evening to you,' he said gravely. 'It's a fine night for the +road.' + +The smell of peat smoke and of some savoury roast floated to me from +the house. + +'Is that place an inn?' I asked. + +'At your service,' he said politely. 'I am the landlord, Sir, and I +hope you will stay the night, for to tell you the truth I have had no +company for a week.' + +I pulled myself up on the parapet of the bridge and filled my pipe. I +began to detect an ally. + +'You're young to be an innkeeper,' I said. + +'My father died a year ago and left me the business. I live there with +my grandmother. It's a slow job for a young man, and it wasn't my +choice of profession.' + +'Which was?' + +He actually blushed. 'I want to write books,' he said. + +'And what better chance could you ask?' I cried. 'Man, I've often +thought that an innkeeper would make the best story-teller in the +world.' + +'Not now,' he said eagerly. 'Maybe in the old days when you had +pilgrims and ballad-makers and highwaymen and mail-coaches on the road. +But not now. Nothing comes here but motor-cars full of fat women, who +stop for lunch, and a fisherman or two in the spring, and the shooting +tenants in August. There is not much material to be got out of that. +I want to see life, to travel the world, and write things like Kipling +and Conrad. But the most I've done yet is to get some verses printed +in CHAMBERS'S JOURNAL.' I looked at the inn standing golden in the +sunset against the brown hills. + +'I've knocked a bit about the world, and I wouldn't despise such a +hermitage. D'you think that adventure is found only in the tropics or +among gentry in red shirts? Maybe you're rubbing shoulders with it at +this moment.' + +'That's what Kipling says,' he said, his eyes brightening, and he +quoted some verse about 'Romance bringing up the 9.15'. + +'Here's a true tale for you then,' I cried, 'and a month from now you +can make a novel out of it.' + +Sitting on the bridge in the soft May gloaming I pitched him a lovely +yarn. It was true in essentials, too, though I altered the minor +details. I made out that I was a mining magnate from Kimberley, who +had had a lot of trouble with I.D.B. and had shown up a gang. They +had pursued me across the ocean, and had killed my best friend, and +were now on my tracks. + +I told the story well, though I say it who shouldn't. I pictured a +flight across the Kalahari to German Africa, the crackling, parching +days, the wonderful blue-velvet nights. I described an attack on my +life on the voyage home, and I made a really horrid affair of the +Portland Place murder. 'You're looking for adventure,' I cried; 'well, +you've found it here. The devils are after me, and the police are +after them. It's a race that I mean to win.' + +'By God!' he whispered, drawing his breath in sharply, 'it is all pure +Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.' + +'You believe me,' I said gratefully. + +'Of course I do,' and he held out his hand. 'I believe everything out +of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal.' + +He was very young, but he was the man for my money. + +'I think they're off my track for the moment, but I must lie close for +a couple of days. Can you take me in?' + +He caught my elbow in his eagerness and drew me towards the house. +'You can lie as snug here as if you were in a moss-hole. I'll see that +nobody blabs, either. And you'll give me some more material about your +adventures?' + +As I entered the inn porch I heard from far off the beat of an engine. +There silhouetted against the dusky West was my friend, the monoplane. + +He gave me a room at the back of the house, with a fine outlook over +the plateau, and he made me free of his own study, which was stacked +with cheap editions of his favourite authors. I never saw the +grandmother, so I guessed she was bedridden. An old woman called +Margit brought me my meals, and the innkeeper was around me at all +hours. I wanted some time to myself, so I invented a job for him. He +had a motor-bicycle, and I sent him off next morning for the daily +paper, which usually arrived with the post in the late afternoon. I +told him to keep his eyes skinned, and make note of any strange figures +he saw, keeping a special sharp look-out for motors and aeroplanes. +Then I sat down in real earnest to Scudder's note-book. + +He came back at midday with the SCOTSMAN. There was nothing in it, +except some further evidence of Paddock and the milkman, and a +repetition of yesterday's statement that the murderer had gone North. +But there was a long article, reprinted from THE TIMES, about Karolides +and the state of affairs in the Balkans, though there was no mention of +any visit to England. I got rid of the innkeeper for the afternoon, +for I was getting very warm in my search for the cypher. + +As I told you, it was a numerical cypher, and by an elaborate system of +experiments I had pretty well discovered what were the nulls and stops. +The trouble was the key word, and when I thought of the odd million +words he might have used I felt pretty hopeless. But about three +o'clock I had a sudden inspiration. + +The name Julia Czechenyi flashed across my memory. Scudder had said it +was the key to the Karolides business, and it occurred to me to try it +on his cypher. + +It worked. The five letters of 'Julia' gave me the position of the +vowels. A was J, the tenth letter of the alphabet, and so represented +by X in the cypher. E was XXI, and so on. 'Czechenyi' gave me the +numerals for the principal consonants. I scribbled that scheme on a +bit of paper and sat down to read Scudder's pages. + +In half an hour I was reading with a whitish face and fingers that +drummed on the table. + +I glanced out of the window and saw a big touring-car coming up the +glen towards the inn. It drew up at the door, and there was the sound +of people alighting. There seemed to be two of them, men in +aquascutums and tweed caps. + +Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes bright +with excitement. + +'There's two chaps below looking for you,' he whispered. 'They're in +the dining-room having whiskies-and-sodas. They asked about you and +said they had hoped to meet you here. Oh! and they described you jolly +well, down to your boots and shirt. I told them you had been here last +night and had gone off on a motor bicycle this morning, and one of the +chaps swore like a navvy.' + +I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed thin +fellow with bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and lisped in +his talk. Neither was any kind of foreigner; on this my young friend +was positive. + +I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they were +part of a letter-- + + ... 'Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not + act for a fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially + as Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises + I will do the best I ...' + +I manufactured it rather neatly, so that it looked like a loose page of +a private letter. + +'Take this down and say it was found in my bedroom, and ask them to +return it to me if they overtake me.' + +Three minutes later I heard the car begin to move, and peeping from +behind the curtain caught sight of the two figures. One was slim, the +other was sleek; that was the most I could make of my reconnaissance. + +The innkeeper appeared in great excitement. 'Your paper woke them up,' +he said gleefully. 'The dark fellow went as white as death and cursed +like blazes, and the fat one whistled and looked ugly. They paid for +their drinks with half-a-sovereign and wouldn't wait for change.' + +'Now I'll tell you what I want you to do,' I said. 'Get on your +bicycle and go off to Newton-Stewart to the Chief Constable. Describe +the two men, and say you suspect them of having had something to do +with the London murder. You can invent reasons. The two will come +back, never fear. Not tonight, for they'll follow me forty miles along +the road, but first thing tomorrow morning. Tell the police to be here +bright and early.' + +He set off like a docile child, while I worked at Scudder's notes. +When he came back we dined together, and in common decency I had to let +him pump me. I gave him a lot of stuff about lion hunts and the +Matabele War, thinking all the while what tame businesses these were +compared to this I was now engaged in! When he went to bed I sat up +and finished Scudder. I smoked in a chair till daylight, for I could +not sleep. + +About eight next morning I witnessed the arrival of two constables and +a sergeant. They put their car in a coach-house under the innkeeper's +instructions, and entered the house. Twenty minutes later I saw from +my window a second car come across the plateau from the opposite +direction. It did not come up to the inn, but stopped two hundred +yards off in the shelter of a patch of wood. I noticed that its +occupants carefully reversed it before leaving it. A minute or two +later I heard their steps on the gravel outside the window. + +My plan had been to lie hid in my bedroom, and see what happened. I +had a notion that, if I could bring the police and my other more +dangerous pursuers together, something might work out of it to my +advantage. But now I had a better idea. I scribbled a line of thanks +to my host, opened the window, and dropped quietly into a gooseberry +bush. Unobserved I crossed the dyke, crawled down the side of a +tributary burn, and won the highroad on the far side of the patch of +trees. There stood the car, very spick and span in the morning +sunlight, but with the dust on her which told of a long journey. I +started her, jumped into the chauffeur's seat, and stole gently out on +to the plateau. + +Almost at once the road dipped so that I lost sight of the inn, but the +wind seemed to bring me the sound of angry voices. + + + +CHAPTER FOUR + +The Adventure of the Radical Candidate + +You may picture me driving that 40 h.p. car for all she was worth over +the crisp moor roads on that shining May morning; glancing back at +first over my shoulder, and looking anxiously to the next turning; then +driving with a vague eye, just wide enough awake to keep on the +highway. For I was thinking desperately of what I had found in +Scudder's pocket-book. + +The little man had told me a pack of lies. All his yarns about the +Balkans and the Jew-Anarchists and the Foreign Office Conference were +eyewash, and so was Karolides. And yet not quite, as you shall hear. +I had staked everything on my belief in his story, and had been let +down; here was his book telling me a different tale, and instead of +being once-bitten-twice-shy, I believed it absolutely. + +Why, I don't know. It rang desperately true, and the first yarn, if +you understand me, had been in a queer way true also in spirit. The +fifteenth day of June was going to be a day of destiny, a bigger +destiny than the killing of a Dago. It was so big that I didn't blame +Scudder for keeping me out of the game and wanting to play a lone hand. +That, I was pretty clear, was his intention. He had told me something +which sounded big enough, but the real thing was so immortally big that +he, the man who had found it out, wanted it all for himself. I didn't +blame him. It was risks after all that he was chiefly greedy about. + +The whole story was in the notes--with gaps, you understand, which he +would have filled up from his memory. He stuck down his authorities, +too, and had an odd trick of giving them all a numerical value and then +striking a balance, which stood for the reliability of each stage in +the yarn. The four names he had printed were authorities, and there +was a man, Ducrosne, who got five out of a possible five; and another +fellow, Ammersfoort, who got three. The bare bones of the tale were +all that was in the book--these, and one queer phrase which occurred +half a dozen times inside brackets. '(Thirty-nine steps)' was the +phrase; and at its last time of use it ran--'(Thirty-nine steps, I +counted them--high tide 10.17 p.m.)'. I could make nothing of that. + +The first thing I learned was that it was no question of preventing a +war. That was coming, as sure as Christmas: had been arranged, said +Scudder, ever since February 1912. Karolides was going to be the +occasion. He was booked all right, and was to hand in his checks on +June 14th, two weeks and four days from that May morning. I gathered +from Scudder's notes that nothing on earth could prevent that. His +talk of Epirote guards that would skin their own grandmothers was all +billy-o. + +The second thing was that this war was going to come as a mighty +surprise to Britain. Karolides' death would set the Balkans by the +ears, and then Vienna would chip in with an ultimatum. Russia wouldn't +like that, and there would be high words. But Berlin would play the +peacemaker, and pour oil on the waters, till suddenly she would find a +good cause for a quarrel, pick it up, and in five hours let fly at us. +That was the idea, and a pretty good one too. Honey and fair speeches, +and then a stroke in the dark. While we were talking about the +goodwill and good intentions of Germany our coast would be silently +ringed with mines, and submarines would be waiting for every battleship. + +But all this depended upon the third thing, which was due to happen on +June 15th. I would never have grasped this if I hadn't once happened +to meet a French staff officer, coming back from West Africa, who had +told me a lot of things. One was that, in spite of all the nonsense +talked in Parliament, there was a real working alliance between France +and Britain, and that the two General Staffs met every now and then, +and made plans for joint action in case of war. Well, in June a very +great swell was coming over from Paris, and he was going to get nothing +less than a statement of the disposition of the British Home Fleet on +mobilization. At least I gathered it was something like that; anyhow, +it was something uncommonly important. + +But on the 15th day of June there were to be others in London--others, +at whom I could only guess. Scudder was content to call them +collectively the 'Black Stone'. They represented not our Allies, but +our deadly foes; and the information, destined for France, was to be +diverted to their pockets. And it was to be used, remember--used a +week or two later, with great guns and swift torpedoes, suddenly in the +darkness of a summer night. + +This was the story I had been deciphering in a back room of a country +inn, overlooking a cabbage garden. This was the story that hummed in +my brain as I swung in the big touring-car from glen to glen. + +My first impulse had been to write a letter to the Prime Minister, but +a little reflection convinced me that that would be useless. Who would +believe my tale? I must show a sign, some token in proof, and Heaven +knew what that could be. Above all, I must keep going myself, ready to +act when things got riper, and that was going to be no light job with +the police of the British Isles in full cry after me and the watchers +of the Black Stone running silently and swiftly on my trail. + +I had no very clear purpose in my journey, but I steered east by the +sun, for I remembered from the map that if I went north I would come +into a region of coalpits and industrial towns. Presently I was down +from the moorlands and traversing the broad haugh of a river. For +miles I ran alongside a park wall, and in a break of the trees I saw a +great castle. I swung through little old thatched villages, and over +peaceful lowland streams, and past gardens blazing with hawthorn and +yellow laburnum. The land was so deep in peace that I could scarcely +believe that somewhere behind me were those who sought my life; ay, and +that in a month's time, unless I had the almightiest of luck, these +round country faces would be pinched and staring, and men would be +lying dead in English fields. + +About mid-day I entered a long straggling village, and had a mind to +stop and eat. Half-way down was the Post Office, and on the steps of +it stood the postmistress and a policeman hard at work conning a +telegram. When they saw me they wakened up, and the policeman advanced +with raised hand, and cried on me to stop. + +I nearly was fool enough to obey. Then it flashed upon me that the +wire had to do with me; that my friends at the inn had come to an +understanding, and were united in desiring to see more of me, and that +it had been easy enough for them to wire the description of me and the +car to thirty villages through which I might pass. I released the +brakes just in time. As it was, the policeman made a claw at the hood, +and only dropped off when he got my left in his eye. + +I saw that main roads were no place for me, and turned into the byways. +It wasn't an easy job without a map, for there was the risk of getting +on to a farm road and ending in a duck-pond or a stable-yard, and I +couldn't afford that kind of delay. I began to see what an ass I had +been to steal the car. The big green brute would be the safest kind of +clue to me over the breadth of Scotland. If I left it and took to my +feet, it would be discovered in an hour or two and I would get no start +in the race. + +The immediate thing to do was to get to the loneliest roads. These I +soon found when I struck up a tributary of the big river, and got into +a glen with steep hills all about me, and a corkscrew road at the end +which climbed over a pass. Here I met nobody, but it was taking me too +far north, so I slewed east along a bad track and finally struck a big +double-line railway. Away below me I saw another broadish valley, and +it occurred to me that if I crossed it I might find some remote inn to +pass the night. The evening was now drawing in, and I was furiously +hungry, for I had eaten nothing since breakfast except a couple of buns +I had bought from a baker's cart. Just then I heard a noise in the +sky, and lo and behold there was that infernal aeroplane, flying low, +about a dozen miles to the south and rapidly coming towards me. + +I had the sense to remember that on a bare moor I was at the +aeroplane's mercy, and that my only chance was to get to the leafy +cover of the valley. Down the hill I went like blue lightning, +screwing my head round, whenever I dared, to watch that damned flying +machine. Soon I was on a road between hedges, and dipping to the +deep-cut glen of a stream. Then came a bit of thick wood where I +slackened speed. + +Suddenly on my left I heard the hoot of another car, and realized to my +horror that I was almost up on a couple of gate-posts through which a +private road debouched on the highway. My horn gave an agonized roar, +but it was too late. I clapped on my brakes, but my impetus was too +great, and there before me a car was sliding athwart my course. In a +second there would have been the deuce of a wreck. I did the only +thing possible, and ran slap into the hedge on the right, trusting to +find something soft beyond. + +But there I was mistaken. My car slithered through the hedge like +butter, and then gave a sickening plunge forward. I saw what was +coming, leapt on the seat and would have jumped out. But a branch of +hawthorn got me in the chest, lifted me up and held me, while a ton or +two of expensive metal slipped below me, bucked and pitched, and then +dropped with an almighty smash fifty feet to the bed of the stream. + +Slowly that thorn let me go. I subsided first on the hedge, and then +very gently on a bower of nettles. As I scrambled to my feet a hand +took me by the arm, and a sympathetic and badly scared voice asked me +if I were hurt. + +I found myself looking at a tall young man in goggles and a leather +ulster, who kept on blessing his soul and whinnying apologies. For +myself, once I got my wind back, I was rather glad than otherwise. +This was one way of getting rid of the car. + +'My blame, Sir,' I answered him. 'It's lucky that I did not add +homicide to my follies. That's the end of my Scotch motor tour, but it +might have been the end of my life.' + +He plucked out a watch and studied it. 'You're the right sort of +fellow,' he said. 'I can spare a quarter of an hour, and my house is +two minutes off. I'll see you clothed and fed and snug in bed. +Where's your kit, by the way? Is it in the burn along with the car?' + +'It's in my pocket,' I said, brandishing a toothbrush. 'I'm a Colonial +and travel light.' + +'A Colonial,' he cried. 'By Gad, you're the very man I've been praying +for. Are you by any blessed chance a Free Trader?' + +'I am,' said I, without the foggiest notion of what he meant. + +He patted my shoulder and hurried me into his car. Three minutes later +we drew up before a comfortable-looking shooting box set among +pine-trees, and he ushered me indoors. He took me first to a bedroom +and flung half a dozen of his suits before me, for my own had been +pretty well reduced to rags. I selected a loose blue serge, which +differed most conspicuously from my former garments, and borrowed a +linen collar. Then he haled me to the dining-room, where the remnants +of a meal stood on the table, and announced that I had just five +minutes to feed. 'You can take a snack in your pocket, and we'll have +supper when we get back. I've got to be at the Masonic Hall at eight +o'clock, or my agent will comb my hair.' + +I had a cup of coffee and some cold ham, while he yarned away on the +hearth-rug. + +'You find me in the deuce of a mess, Mr--by-the-by, you haven't told me +your name. Twisdon? Any relation of old Tommy Twisdon of the +Sixtieth? No? Well, you see I'm Liberal Candidate for this part of +the world, and I had a meeting on tonight at Brattleburn--that's my +chief town, and an infernal Tory stronghold. I had got the Colonial +ex-Premier fellow, Crumpleton, coming to speak for me tonight, and had +the thing tremendously billed and the whole place ground-baited. This +afternoon I had a wire from the ruffian saying he had got influenza at +Blackpool, and here am I left to do the whole thing myself. I had +meant to speak for ten minutes and must now go on for forty, and, +though I've been racking my brains for three hours to think of +something, I simply cannot last the course. Now you've got to be a +good chap and help me. You're a Free Trader and can tell our people +what a wash-out Protection is in the Colonies. All you fellows have +the gift of the gab--I wish to Heaven I had it. I'll be for evermore +in your debt.' + +I had very few notions about Free Trade one way or the other, but I saw +no other chance to get what I wanted. My young gentleman was far too +absorbed in his own difficulties to think how odd it was to ask a +stranger who had just missed death by an ace and had lost a +1,000-guinea car to address a meeting for him on the spur of the +moment. But my necessities did not allow me to contemplate oddnesses +or to pick and choose my supports. + +'All right,' I said. 'I'm not much good as a speaker, but I'll tell +them a bit about Australia.' + +At my words the cares of the ages slipped from his shoulders, and he +was rapturous in his thanks. He lent me a big driving coat--and never +troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour without possessing an +ulster--and, as we slipped down the dusty roads, poured into my ears +the simple facts of his history. He was an orphan, and his uncle had +brought him up--I've forgotten the uncle's name, but he was in the +Cabinet, and you can read his speeches in the papers. He had gone +round the world after leaving Cambridge, and then, being short of a +job, his uncle had advised politics. I gathered that he had no +preference in parties. 'Good chaps in both,' he said cheerfully, 'and +plenty of blighters, too. I'm Liberal, because my family have always +been Whigs.' But if he was lukewarm politically he had strong views on +other things. He found out I knew a bit about horses, and jawed away +about the Derby entries; and he was full of plans for improving his +shooting. Altogether, a very clean, decent, callow young man. + +As we passed through a little town two policemen signalled us to stop, +and flashed their lanterns on us. + +'Beg pardon, Sir Harry,' said one. 'We've got instructions to look out +for a car, and the description's no unlike yours.' + +'Right-o,' said my host, while I thanked Providence for the devious +ways I had been brought to safety. After that he spoke no more, for +his mind began to labour heavily with his coming speech. His lips kept +muttering, his eye wandered, and I began to prepare myself for a second +catastrophe. I tried to think of something to say myself, but my mind +was dry as a stone. The next thing I knew we had drawn up outside a +door in a street, and were being welcomed by some noisy gentlemen with +rosettes. The hall had about five hundred in it, women mostly, a lot +of bald heads, and a dozen or two young men. The chairman, a weaselly +minister with a reddish nose, lamented Crumpleton's absence, +soliloquized on his influenza, and gave me a certificate as a 'trusted +leader of Australian thought'. There were two policemen at the door, +and I hoped they took note of that testimonial. Then Sir Harry started. + +I never heard anything like it. He didn't begin to know how to talk. +He had about a bushel of notes from which he read, and when he let go +of them he fell into one prolonged stutter. Every now and then he +remembered a phrase he had learned by heart, straightened his back, and +gave it off like Henry Irving, and the next moment he was bent double +and crooning over his papers. It was the most appalling rot, too. He +talked about the 'German menace', and said it was all a Tory invention +to cheat the poor of their rights and keep back the great flood of +social reform, but that 'organized labour' realized this and laughed +the Tories to scorn. He was all for reducing our Navy as a proof of +our good faith, and then sending Germany an ultimatum telling her to do +the same or we would knock her into a cocked hat. He said that, but +for the Tories, Germany and Britain would be fellow-workers in peace +and reform. I thought of the little black book in my pocket! A giddy +lot Scudder's friends cared for peace and reform. + +Yet in a queer way I liked the speech. You could see the niceness of +the chap shining out behind the muck with which he had been spoon-fed. +Also it took a load off my mind. I mightn't be much of an orator, but +I was a thousand per cent better than Sir Harry. + +I didn't get on so badly when it came to my turn. I simply told them +all I could remember about Australia, praying there should be no +Australian there--all about its labour party and emigration and +universal service. I doubt if I remembered to mention Free Trade, but +I said there were no Tories in Australia, only Labour and Liberals. +That fetched a cheer, and I woke them up a bit when I started in to +tell them the kind of glorious business I thought could be made out of +the Empire if we really put our backs into it. + +Altogether I fancy I was rather a success. The minister didn't like +me, though, and when he proposed a vote of thanks, spoke of Sir Harry's +speech as 'statesmanlike' and mine as having 'the eloquence of an +emigration agent'. + +When we were in the car again my host was in wild spirits at having got +his job over. 'A ripping speech, Twisdon,' he said. 'Now, you're +coming home with me. I'm all alone, and if you'll stop a day or two +I'll show you some very decent fishing.' + +We had a hot supper--and I wanted it pretty badly--and then drank grog +in a big cheery smoking-room with a crackling wood fire. I thought the +time had come for me to put my cards on the table. I saw by this man's +eye that he was the kind you can trust. + +'Listen, Sir Harry,' I said. 'I've something pretty important to say +to you. You're a good fellow, and I'm going to be frank. Where on +earth did you get that poisonous rubbish you talked tonight?' + +His face fell. 'Was it as bad as that?' he asked ruefully. 'It did +sound rather thin. I got most of it out of the PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE +and pamphlets that agent chap of mine keeps sending me. But you surely +don't think Germany would ever go to war with us?' + +'Ask that question in six weeks and it won't need an answer,' I said. +'If you'll give me your attention for half an hour I am going to tell +you a story.' + +I can see yet that bright room with the deers' heads and the old prints +on the walls, Sir Harry standing restlessly on the stone curb of the +hearth, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. I seemed to be +another person, standing aside and listening to my own voice, and +judging carefully the reliability of my tale. It was the first time I +had ever told anyone the exact truth, so far as I understood it, and it +did me no end of good, for it straightened out the thing in my own +mind. I blinked no detail. He heard all about Scudder, and the +milkman, and the note-book, and my doings in Galloway. Presently he +got very excited and walked up and down the hearth-rug. + +'So you see,' I concluded, 'you have got here in your house the man +that is wanted for the Portland Place murder. Your duty is to send +your car for the police and give me up. I don't think I'll get very +far. There'll be an accident, and I'll have a knife in my ribs an hour +or so after arrest. Nevertheless, it's your duty, as a law-abiding +citizen. Perhaps in a month's time you'll be sorry, but you have no +cause to think of that.' + +He was looking at me with bright steady eyes. 'What was your job in +Rhodesia, Mr Hannay?' he asked. + +'Mining engineer,' I said. 'I've made my pile cleanly and I've had a +good time in the making of it.' + +'Not a profession that weakens the nerves, is it?' + +I laughed. 'Oh, as to that, my nerves are good enough.' I took down a +hunting-knife from a stand on the wall, and did the old Mashona trick +of tossing it and catching it in my lips. That wants a pretty steady +heart. + +He watched me with a smile. 'I don't want proof. I may be an ass on +the platform, but I can size up a man. You're no murderer and you're +no fool, and I believe you are speaking the truth. I'm going to back +you up. Now, what can I do?' + +'First, I want you to write a letter to your uncle. I've got to get in +touch with the Government people sometime before the 15th of June.' + +He pulled his moustache. 'That won't help you. This is Foreign Office +business, and my uncle would have nothing to do with it. Besides, +you'd never convince him. No, I'll go one better. I'll write to the +Permanent Secretary at the Foreign Office. He's my godfather, and one +of the best going. What do you want?' + +He sat down at a table and wrote to my dictation. The gist of it was +that if a man called Twisdon (I thought I had better stick to that +name) turned up before June 15th he was to entreat him kindly. He said +Twisdon would prove his bona fides by passing the word 'Black Stone' +and whistling 'Annie Laurie'. + +'Good,' said Sir Harry. 'That's the proper style. By the way, you'll +find my godfather--his name's Sir Walter Bullivant--down at his country +cottage for Whitsuntide. It's close to Artinswell on the Kenner. +That's done. Now, what's the next thing?' + +'You're about my height. Lend me the oldest tweed suit you've got. +Anything will do, so long as the colour is the opposite of the clothes +I destroyed this afternoon. Then show me a map of the neighbourhood +and explain to me the lie of the land. Lastly, if the police come +seeking me, just show them the car in the glen. If the other lot turn +up, tell them I caught the south express after your meeting.' + +He did, or promised to do, all these things. I shaved off the remnants +of my moustache, and got inside an ancient suit of what I believe is +called heather mixture. The map gave me some notion of my whereabouts, +and told me the two things I wanted to know--where the main railway to +the south could be joined and what were the wildest districts near at +hand. At two o'clock he wakened me from my slumbers in the +smoking-room armchair, and led me blinking into the dark starry night. +An old bicycle was found in a tool-shed and handed over to me. + +'First turn to the right up by the long fir-wood,' he enjoined. 'By +daybreak you'll be well into the hills. Then I should pitch the +machine into a bog and take to the moors on foot. You can put in a +week among the shepherds, and be as safe as if you were in New Guinea.' + +I pedalled diligently up steep roads of hill gravel till the skies grew +pale with morning. As the mists cleared before the sun, I found myself +in a wide green world with glens falling on every side and a far-away +blue horizon. Here, at any rate, I could get early news of my enemies. + + + +CHAPTER FIVE + +The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman + +I sat down on the very crest of the pass and took stock of my position. + +Behind me was the road climbing through a long cleft in the hills, +which was the upper glen of some notable river. In front was a flat +space of maybe a mile, all pitted with bog-holes and rough with +tussocks, and then beyond it the road fell steeply down another glen to +a plain whose blue dimness melted into the distance. To left and right +were round-shouldered green hills as smooth as pancakes, but to the +south--that is, the left hand--there was a glimpse of high heathery +mountains, which I remembered from the map as the big knot of hill +which I had chosen for my sanctuary. I was on the central boss of a +huge upland country, and could see everything moving for miles. In the +meadows below the road half a mile back a cottage smoked, but it was +the only sign of human life. Otherwise there was only the calling of +plovers and the tinkling of little streams. + +It was now about seven o'clock, and as I waited I heard once again that +ominous beat in the air. Then I realized that my vantage-ground might +be in reality a trap. There was no cover for a tomtit in those bald +green places. + +I sat quite still and hopeless while the beat grew louder. Then I saw +an aeroplane coming up from the east. It was flying high, but as I +looked it dropped several hundred feet and began to circle round the +knot of hill in narrowing circles, just as a hawk wheels before it +pounces. Now it was flying very low, and now the observer on board +caught sight of me. I could see one of the two occupants examining me +through glasses. + +Suddenly it began to rise in swift whorls, and the next I knew it was +speeding eastward again till it became a speck in the blue morning. + +That made me do some savage thinking. My enemies had located me, and +the next thing would be a cordon round me. I didn't know what force +they could command, but I was certain it would be sufficient. The +aeroplane had seen my bicycle, and would conclude that I would try to +escape by the road. In that case there might be a chance on the moors +to the right or left. I wheeled the machine a hundred yards from the +highway, and plunged it into a moss-hole, where it sank among pond-weed +and water-buttercups. Then I climbed to a knoll which gave me a view +of the two valleys. Nothing was stirring on the long white ribbon that +threaded them. + +I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat. As +the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had the +fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I would +have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The free +moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the breath of a +dungeon. + +I tossed a coin--heads right, tails left--and it fell heads, so I +turned to the north. In a little I came to the brow of the ridge which +was the containing wall of the pass. I saw the highroad for maybe ten +miles, and far down it something that was moving, and that I took to be +a motor-car. Beyond the ridge I looked on a rolling green moor, which +fell away into wooded glens. + +Now my life on the veld has given me the eyes of a kite, and I can see +things for which most men need a telescope ... Away down the slope, a +couple of miles away, several men were advancing, like a row of +beaters at a shoot ... + +I dropped out of sight behind the sky-line. That way was shut to me, +and I must try the bigger hills to the south beyond the highway. The +car I had noticed was getting nearer, but it was still a long way off +with some very steep gradients before it. I ran hard, crouching low +except in the hollows, and as I ran I kept scanning the brow of the +hill before me. Was it imagination, or did I see figures--one, two, +perhaps more--moving in a glen beyond the stream? + +If you are hemmed in on all sides in a patch of land there is only one +chance of escape. You must stay in the patch, and let your enemies +search it and not find you. That was good sense, but how on earth was +I to escape notice in that table-cloth of a place? I would have buried +myself to the neck in mud or lain below water or climbed the tallest +tree. But there was not a stick of wood, the bog-holes were little +puddles, the stream was a slender trickle. There was nothing but short +heather, and bare hill bent, and the white highway. + +Then in a tiny bight of road, beside a heap of stones, I found the +roadman. + +He had just arrived, and was wearily flinging down his hammer. He +looked at me with a fishy eye and yawned. + +'Confoond the day I ever left the herdin'!' he said, as if to the world +at large. 'There I was my ain maister. Now I'm a slave to the +Goavernment, tethered to the roadside, wi' sair een, and a back like a +suckle.' + +He took up the hammer, struck a stone, dropped the implement with an +oath, and put both hands to his ears. 'Mercy on me! My heid's +burstin'!' he cried. + +He was a wild figure, about my own size but much bent, with a week's +beard on his chin, and a pair of big horn spectacles. + +'I canna dae't,' he cried again. 'The Surveyor maun just report me. +I'm for my bed.' + +I asked him what was the trouble, though indeed that was clear enough. + +'The trouble is that I'm no sober. Last nicht my dochter Merran was +waddit, and they danced till fower in the byre. Me and some ither +chiels sat down to the drinkin', and here I am. Peety that I ever +lookit on the wine when it was red!' + +I agreed with him about bed. 'It's easy speakin',' he moaned. 'But I +got a postcard yestreen sayin' that the new Road Surveyor would be +round the day. He'll come and he'll no find me, or else he'll find me +fou, and either way I'm a done man. I'll awa' back to my bed and say +I'm no weel, but I doot that'll no help me, for they ken my kind o' +no-weel-ness.' + +Then I had an inspiration. 'Does the new Surveyor know you?' I asked. + +'No him. He's just been a week at the job. He rins about in a wee +motor-cawr, and wad speir the inside oot o' a whelk.' + +'Where's your house?' I asked, and was directed by a wavering finger to +the cottage by the stream. + +'Well, back to your bed,' I said, 'and sleep in peace. I'll take on +your job for a bit and see the Surveyor.' + +He stared at me blankly; then, as the notion dawned on his fuddled +brain, his face broke into the vacant drunkard's smile. + +'You're the billy,' he cried. 'It'll be easy eneuch managed. I've +finished that bing o' stanes, so you needna chap ony mair this +forenoon. Just take the barry, and wheel eneuch metal frae yon quarry +doon the road to mak anither bing the morn. My name's Alexander +Turnbull, and I've been seeven year at the trade, and twenty afore that +herdin' on Leithen Water. My freens ca' me Ecky, and whiles Specky, +for I wear glesses, being waik i' the sicht. Just you speak the +Surveyor fair, and ca' him Sir, and he'll be fell pleased. I'll be +back or mid-day.' + +I borrowed his spectacles and filthy old hat; stripped off coat, +waistcoat, and collar, and gave him them to carry home; borrowed, too, +the foul stump of a clay pipe as an extra property. He indicated my +simple tasks, and without more ado set off at an amble bedwards. Bed +may have been his chief object, but I think there was also something +left in the foot of a bottle. I prayed that he might be safe under +cover before my friends arrived on the scene. + +Then I set to work to dress for the part. I opened the collar of my +shirt--it was a vulgar blue-and-white check such as ploughmen wear--and +revealed a neck as brown as any tinker's. I rolled up my sleeves, and +there was a forearm which might have been a blacksmith's, sunburnt and +rough with old scars. I got my boots and trouser-legs all white from +the dust of the road, and hitched up my trousers, tying them with +string below the knee. Then I set to work on my face. With a handful +of dust I made a water-mark round my neck, the place where Mr +Turnbull's Sunday ablutions might be expected to stop. I rubbed a good +deal of dirt also into the sunburn of my cheeks. A roadman's eyes +would no doubt be a little inflamed, so I contrived to get some dust in +both of mine, and by dint of vigorous rubbing produced a bleary effect. + +The sandwiches Sir Harry had given me had gone off with my coat, but +the roadman's lunch, tied up in a red handkerchief, was at my disposal. +I ate with great relish several of the thick slabs of scone and cheese +and drank a little of the cold tea. In the handkerchief was a local +paper tied with string and addressed to Mr Turnbull--obviously meant to +solace his mid-day leisure. I did up the bundle again, and put the +paper conspicuously beside it. + +My boots did not satisfy me, but by dint of kicking among the stones I +reduced them to the granite-like surface which marks a roadman's +foot-gear. Then I bit and scraped my finger-nails till the edges were +all cracked and uneven. The men I was matched against would miss no +detail. I broke one of the bootlaces and retied it in a clumsy knot, +and loosed the other so that my thick grey socks bulged over the +uppers. Still no sign of anything on the road. The motor I had +observed half an hour ago must have gone home. + +My toilet complete, I took up the barrow and began my journeys to and +from the quarry a hundred yards off. + +I remember an old scout in Rhodesia, who had done many queer things in +his day, once telling me that the secret of playing a part was to think +yourself into it. You could never keep it up, he said, unless you +could manage to convince yourself that you were it. So I shut off all +other thoughts and switched them on to the road-mending. I thought of +the little white cottage as my home, I recalled the years I had spent +herding on Leithen Water, I made my mind dwell lovingly on sleep in a +box-bed and a bottle of cheap whisky. Still nothing appeared on that +long white road. + +Now and then a sheep wandered off the heather to stare at me. A heron +flopped down to a pool in the stream and started to fish, taking no +more notice of me than if I had been a milestone. On I went, trundling +my loads of stone, with the heavy step of the professional. Soon I +grew warm, and the dust on my face changed into solid and abiding grit. +I was already counting the hours till evening should put a limit to Mr +Turnbull's monotonous toil. Suddenly a crisp voice spoke from the +road, and looking up I saw a little Ford two-seater, and a round-faced +young man in a bowler hat. + +'Are you Alexander Turnbull?' he asked. 'I am the new County Road +Surveyor. You live at Blackhopefoot, and have charge of the section +from Laidlawbyres to the Riggs? Good! A fair bit of road, Turnbull, +and not badly engineered. A little soft about a mile off, and the +edges want cleaning. See you look after that. Good morning. You'll +know me the next time you see me.' + +Clearly my get-up was good enough for the dreaded Surveyor. I went on +with my work, and as the morning grew towards noon I was cheered by a +little traffic. A baker's van breasted the hill, and sold me a bag of +ginger biscuits which I stowed in my trouser-pockets against +emergencies. Then a herd passed with sheep, and disturbed me somewhat +by asking loudly, 'What had become o' Specky?' + +'In bed wi' the colic,' I replied, and the herd passed on ... just +about mid-day a big car stole down the hill, glided past and drew up a +hundred yards beyond. Its three occupants descended as if to stretch +their legs, and sauntered towards me. + +Two of the men I had seen before from the window of the Galloway +inn--one lean, sharp, and dark, the other comfortable and smiling. The +third had the look of a countryman--a vet, perhaps, or a small farmer. +He was dressed in ill-cut knickerbockers, and the eye in his head was +as bright and wary as a hen's. + +'Morning,' said the last. 'That's a fine easy job o' yours.' + +I had not looked up on their approach, and now, when accosted, I slowly +and painfully straightened my back, after the manner of roadmen; spat +vigorously, after the manner of the low Scot; and regarded them +steadily before replying. I confronted three pairs of eyes that missed +nothing. + +'There's waur jobs and there's better,' I said sententiously. 'I wad +rather hae yours, sittin' a' day on your hinderlands on thae cushions. +It's you and your muckle cawrs that wreck my roads! If we a' had oor +richts, ye sud be made to mend what ye break.' + +The bright-eyed man was looking at the newspaper lying beside +Turnbull's bundle. + +'I see you get your papers in good time,' he said. + +I glanced at it casually. 'Aye, in gude time. Seein' that that paper +cam' out last Setterday I'm just Sax days late.' + +He picked it up, glanced at the superscription, and laid it down again. +One of the others had been looking at my boots, and a word in German +called the speaker's attention to them. + +'You've a fine taste in boots,' he said. 'These were never made by a +country shoemaker.' + +'They were not,' I said readily. 'They were made in London. I got +them frae the gentleman that was here last year for the shootin'. What +was his name now?' And I scratched a forgetful head. Again the sleek +one spoke in German. 'Let us get on,' he said. 'This fellow is all +right.' + +They asked one last question. + +'Did you see anyone pass early this morning? He might be on a bicycle +or he might be on foot.' + +I very nearly fell into the trap and told a story of a bicyclist +hurrying past in the grey dawn. But I had the sense to see my danger. +I pretended to consider very deeply. + +'I wasna up very early,' I said. 'Ye see, my dochter was merrit last +nicht, and we keepit it up late. I opened the house door about seeven +and there was naebody on the road then. Since I cam' up here there has +just been the baker and the Ruchill herd, besides you gentlemen.' + +One of them gave me a cigar, which I smelt gingerly and stuck in +Turnbull's bundle. They got into their car and were out of sight in +three minutes. + +My heart leaped with an enormous relief, but I went on wheeling my +stones. It was as well, for ten minutes later the car returned, one of +the occupants waving a hand to me. Those gentry left nothing to chance. + +I finished Turnbull's bread and cheese, and pretty soon I had finished +the stones. The next step was what puzzled me. I could not keep up +this roadmaking business for long. A merciful Providence had kept Mr +Turnbull indoors, but if he appeared on the scene there would be +trouble. I had a notion that the cordon was still tight round the +glen, and that if I walked in any direction I should meet with +questioners. But get out I must. No man's nerve could stand more than +a day of being spied on. + +I stayed at my post till five o'clock. By that time I had resolved to +go down to Turnbull's cottage at nightfall and take my chance of +getting over the hills in the darkness. But suddenly a new car came up +the road, and slowed down a yard or two from me. A fresh wind had +risen, and the occupant wanted to light a cigarette. It was a touring +car, with the tonneau full of an assortment of baggage. One man sat in +it, and by an amazing chance I knew him. His name was Marmaduke +Jopley, and he was an offence to creation. He was a sort of blood +stockbroker, who did his business by toadying eldest sons and rich +young peers and foolish old ladies. 'Marmie' was a familiar figure, I +understood, at balls and polo-weeks and country houses. He was an +adroit scandal-monger, and would crawl a mile on his belly to anything +that had a title or a million. I had a business introduction to his +firm when I came to London, and he was good enough to ask me to dinner +at his club. There he showed off at a great rate, and pattered about +his duchesses till the snobbery of the creature turned me sick. I +asked a man afterwards why nobody kicked him, and was told that +Englishmen reverenced the weaker sex. + +Anyhow there he was now, nattily dressed, in a fine new car, obviously +on his way to visit some of his smart friends. A sudden daftness took +me, and in a second I had jumped into the tonneau and had him by the +shoulder. + +'Hullo, Jopley,' I sang out. 'Well met, my lad!' He got a horrid +fright. His chin dropped as he stared at me. 'Who the devil are YOU?' +he gasped. + +'My name's Hannay,' I said. 'From Rhodesia, you remember.' + +'Good God, the murderer!' he choked. + +'Just so. And there'll be a second murder, my dear, if you don't do as +I tell you. Give me that coat of yours. That cap, too.' + +He did as bid, for he was blind with terror. Over my dirty trousers +and vulgar shirt I put on his smart driving-coat, which buttoned high +at the top and thereby hid the deficiencies of my collar. I stuck the +cap on my head, and added his gloves to my get-up. The dusty roadman +in a minute was transformed into one of the neatest motorists in +Scotland. On Mr Jopley's head I clapped Turnbull's unspeakable hat, +and told him to keep it there. + +Then with some difficulty I turned the car. My plan was to go back the +road he had come, for the watchers, having seen it before, would +probably let it pass unremarked, and Marmie's figure was in no way like +mine. + +'Now, my child,' I said, 'sit quite still and be a good boy. I mean +you no harm. I'm only borrowing your car for an hour or two. But if +you play me any tricks, and above all if you open your mouth, as sure +as there's a God above me I'll wring your neck. SAVEZ?' + +I enjoyed that evening's ride. We ran eight miles down the valley, +through a village or two, and I could not help noticing several +strange-looking folk lounging by the roadside. These were the watchers +who would have had much to say to me if I had come in other garb or +company. As it was, they looked incuriously on. One touched his cap +in salute, and I responded graciously. + +As the dark fell I turned up a side glen which, as I remember from the +map, led into an unfrequented corner of the hills. Soon the villages +were left behind, then the farms, and then even the wayside cottage. +Presently we came to a lonely moor where the night was blackening the +sunset gleam in the bog pools. Here we stopped, and I obligingly +reversed the car and restored to Mr Jopley his belongings. + +'A thousand thanks,' I said. 'There's more use in you than I thought. +Now be off and find the police.' + +As I sat on the hillside, watching the tail-light dwindle, I reflected +on the various kinds of crime I had now sampled. Contrary to general +belief, I was not a murderer, but I had become an unholy liar, a +shameless impostor, and a highwayman with a marked taste for expensive +motor-cars. + + + +CHAPTER SIX + +The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist + +I spent the night on a shelf of the hillside, in the lee of a boulder +where the heather grew long and soft. It was a cold business, for I +had neither coat nor waistcoat. These were in Mr Turnbull's keeping, +as was Scudder's little book, my watch and--worst of all--my pipe and +tobacco pouch. Only my money accompanied me in my belt, and about half +a pound of ginger biscuits in my trousers pocket. + +I supped off half those biscuits, and by worming myself deep into the +heather got some kind of warmth. My spirits had risen, and I was +beginning to enjoy this crazy game of hide-and-seek. So far I had been +miraculously lucky. The milkman, the literary innkeeper, Sir Harry, +the roadman, and the idiotic Marmie, were all pieces of undeserved good +fortune. Somehow the first success gave me a feeling that I was going +to pull the thing through. + +My chief trouble was that I was desperately hungry. When a Jew shoots +himself in the City and there is an inquest, the newspapers usually +report that the deceased was 'well-nourished'. I remember thinking +that they would not call me well-nourished if I broke my neck in a +bog-hole. I lay and tortured myself--for the ginger biscuits merely +emphasized the aching void--with the memory of all the good food I had +thought so little of in London. There were Paddock's crisp sausages +and fragrant shavings of bacon, and shapely poached eggs--how often I +had turned up my nose at them! There were the cutlets they did at the +club, and a particular ham that stood on the cold table, for which my +soul lusted. My thoughts hovered over all varieties of mortal edible, +and finally settled on a porterhouse steak and a quart of bitter with a +welsh rabbit to follow. In longing hopelessly for these dainties I +fell asleep. + +I woke very cold and stiff about an hour after dawn. It took me a +little while to remember where I was, for I had been very weary and had +slept heavily. I saw first the pale blue sky through a net of heather, +then a big shoulder of hill, and then my own boots placed neatly in a +blaeberry bush. I raised myself on my arms and looked down into the +valley, and that one look set me lacing up my boots in mad haste. + +For there were men below, not more than a quarter of a mile off, spaced +out on the hillside like a fan, and beating the heather. Marmie had +not been slow in looking for his revenge. + +I crawled out of my shelf into the cover of a boulder, and from it +gained a shallow trench which slanted up the mountain face. This led +me presently into the narrow gully of a burn, by way of which I +scrambled to the top of the ridge. From there I looked back, and saw +that I was still undiscovered. My pursuers were patiently quartering +the hillside and moving upwards. + +Keeping behind the skyline I ran for maybe half a mile, till I judged I +was above the uppermost end of the glen. Then I showed myself, and was +instantly noted by one of the flankers, who passed the word to the +others. I heard cries coming up from below, and saw that the line of +search had changed its direction. I pretended to retreat over the +skyline, but instead went back the way I had come, and in twenty +minutes was behind the ridge overlooking my sleeping place. From that +viewpoint I had the satisfaction of seeing the pursuit streaming up the +hill at the top of the glen on a hopelessly false scent. + +I had before me a choice of routes, and I chose a ridge which made an +angle with the one I was on, and so would soon put a deep glen between +me and my enemies. The exercise had warmed my blood, and I was +beginning to enjoy myself amazingly. As I went I breakfasted on the +dusty remnants of the ginger biscuits. + +I knew very little about the country, and I hadn't a notion what I was +going to do. I trusted to the strength of my legs, but I was well +aware that those behind me would be familiar with the lie of the land, +and that my ignorance would be a heavy handicap. I saw in front of me +a sea of hills, rising very high towards the south, but northwards +breaking down into broad ridges which separated wide and shallow dales. +The ridge I had chosen seemed to sink after a mile or two to a moor +which lay like a pocket in the uplands. That seemed as good a +direction to take as any other. + +My stratagem had given me a fair start--call it twenty minutes--and I +had the width of a glen behind me before I saw the first heads of the +pursuers. The police had evidently called in local talent to their +aid, and the men I could see had the appearance of herds or +gamekeepers. They hallooed at the sight of me, and I waved my hand. +Two dived into the glen and began to climb my ridge, while the others +kept their own side of the hill. I felt as if I were taking part in a +schoolboy game of hare and hounds. + +But very soon it began to seem less of a game. Those fellows behind +were hefty men on their native heath. Looking back I saw that only +three were following direct, and I guessed that the others had fetched +a circuit to cut me off. My lack of local knowledge might very well be +my undoing, and I resolved to get out of this tangle of glens to the +pocket of moor I had seen from the tops. I must so increase my +distance as to get clear away from them, and I believed I could do this +if I could find the right ground for it. If there had been cover I +would have tried a bit of stalking, but on these bare slopes you could +see a fly a mile off. My hope must be in the length of my legs and the +soundness of my wind, but I needed easier ground for that, for I was +not bred a mountaineer. How I longed for a good Afrikander pony! + +I put on a great spurt and got off my ridge and down into the moor +before any figures appeared on the skyline behind me. I crossed a +burn, and came out on a highroad which made a pass between two glens. +All in front of me was a big field of heather sloping up to a crest +which was crowned with an odd feather of trees. In the dyke by the +roadside was a gate, from which a grass-grown track led over the first +wave of the moor. + +I jumped the dyke and followed it, and after a few hundred yards--as +soon as it was out of sight of the highway--the grass stopped and it +became a very respectable road, which was evidently kept with some +care. Clearly it ran to a house, and I began to think of doing the +same. Hitherto my luck had held, and it might be that my best chance +would be found in this remote dwelling. Anyhow there were trees there, +and that meant cover. + +I did not follow the road, but the burnside which flanked it on the +right, where the bracken grew deep and the high banks made a tolerable +screen. It was well I did so, for no sooner had I gained the hollow +than, looking back, I saw the pursuit topping the ridge from which I +had descended. + +After that I did not look back; I had no time. I ran up the burnside, +crawling over the open places, and for a large part wading in the +shallow stream. I found a deserted cottage with a row of phantom +peat-stacks and an overgrown garden. Then I was among young hay, and +very soon had come to the edge of a plantation of wind-blown firs. +From there I saw the chimneys of the house smoking a few hundred yards +to my left. I forsook the burnside, crossed another dyke, and almost +before I knew was on a rough lawn. A glance back told me that I was +well out of sight of the pursuit, which had not yet passed the first +lift of the moor. + +The lawn was a very rough place, cut with a scythe instead of a mower, +and planted with beds of scrubby rhododendrons. A brace of black-game, +which are not usually garden birds, rose at my approach. The house +before me was the ordinary moorland farm, with a more pretentious +whitewashed wing added. Attached to this wing was a glass veranda, and +through the glass I saw the face of an elderly gentleman meekly +watching me. + +I stalked over the border of coarse hill gravel and entered the open +veranda door. Within was a pleasant room, glass on one side, and on +the other a mass of books. More books showed in an inner room. On the +floor, instead of tables, stood cases such as you see in a museum, +filled with coins and queer stone implements. + +There was a knee-hole desk in the middle, and seated at it, with some +papers and open volumes before him, was the benevolent old gentleman. +His face was round and shiny, like Mr Pickwick's, big glasses were +stuck on the end of his nose, and the top of his head was as bright and +bare as a glass bottle. He never moved when I entered, but raised his +placid eyebrows and waited on me to speak. + +It was not an easy job, with about five minutes to spare, to tell a +stranger who I was and what I wanted, and to win his aid. I did not +attempt it. There was something about the eye of the man before me, +something so keen and knowledgeable, that I could not find a word. I +simply stared at him and stuttered. + +'You seem in a hurry, my friend,' he said slowly. + +I nodded towards the window. It gave a prospect across the moor +through a gap in the plantation, and revealed certain figures half a +mile off straggling through the heather. + +'Ah, I see,' he said, and took up a pair of field-glasses through which +he patiently scrutinized the figures. + +'A fugitive from justice, eh? Well, we'll go into the matter at our +leisure. Meantime I object to my privacy being broken in upon by the +clumsy rural policeman. Go into my study, and you will see two doors +facing you. Take the one on the left and close it behind you. You +will be perfectly safe.' + +And this extraordinary man took up his pen again. + +I did as I was bid, and found myself in a little dark chamber which +smelt of chemicals, and was lit only by a tiny window high up in the +wall. The door had swung behind me with a click like the door of a +safe. Once again I had found an unexpected sanctuary. + +All the same I was not comfortable. There was something about the old +gentleman which puzzled and rather terrified me. He had been too easy +and ready, almost as if he had expected me. And his eyes had been +horribly intelligent. + +No sound came to me in that dark place. For all I knew the police +might be searching the house, and if they did they would want to know +what was behind this door. I tried to possess my soul in patience, and +to forget how hungry I was. + +Then I took a more cheerful view. The old gentleman could scarcely +refuse me a meal, and I fell to reconstructing my breakfast. Bacon and +eggs would content me, but I wanted the better part of a flitch of +bacon and half a hundred eggs. And then, while my mouth was watering +in anticipation, there was a click and the door stood open. + +I emerged into the sunlight to find the master of the house sitting in +a deep armchair in the room he called his study, and regarding me with +curious eyes. + +'Have they gone?' I asked. + +'They have gone. I convinced them that you had crossed the hill. I do +not choose that the police should come between me and one whom I am +delighted to honour. This is a lucky morning for you, Mr Richard +Hannay.' + +As he spoke his eyelids seemed to tremble and to fall a little over his +keen grey eyes. In a flash the phrase of Scudder's came back to me, +when he had described the man he most dreaded in the world. He had +said that he 'could hood his eyes like a hawk'. Then I saw that I had +walked straight into the enemy's headquarters. + +My first impulse was to throttle the old ruffian and make for the open +air. He seemed to anticipate my intention, for he smiled gently, and +nodded to the door behind me. + +I turned, and saw two men-servants who had me covered with pistols. + +He knew my name, but he had never seen me before. And as the +reflection darted across my mind I saw a slender chance. + +'I don't know what you mean,' I said roughly. 'And who are you calling +Richard Hannay? My name's Ainslie.' + +'So?' he said, still smiling. 'But of course you have others. We +won't quarrel about a name.' + +I was pulling myself together now, and I reflected that my garb, +lacking coat and waistcoat and collar, would at any rate not betray me. +I put on my surliest face and shrugged my shoulders. + +'I suppose you're going to give me up after all, and I call it a damned +dirty trick. My God, I wish I had never seen that cursed motor-car! +Here's the money and be damned to you,' and I flung four sovereigns on +the table. + +He opened his eyes a little. 'Oh no, I shall not give you up. My +friends and I will have a little private settlement with you, that is +all. You know a little too much, Mr Hannay. You are a clever actor, +but not quite clever enough.' + +He spoke with assurance, but I could see the dawning of a doubt in his +mind. + +'Oh, for God's sake stop jawing,' I cried. 'Everything's against me. +I haven't had a bit of luck since I came on shore at Leith. What's the +harm in a poor devil with an empty stomach picking up some money he +finds in a bust-up motor-car? That's all I done, and for that I've +been chivvied for two days by those blasted bobbies over those blasted +hills. I tell you I'm fair sick of it. You can do what you like, old +boy! Ned Ainslie's got no fight left in him.' + +I could see that the doubt was gaining. + +'Will you oblige me with the story of your recent doings?' he asked. + +'I can't, guv'nor,' I said in a real beggar's whine. 'I've not had +a bite to eat for two days. Give me a mouthful of food, and then +you'll hear God's truth.' + +I must have showed my hunger in my face, for he signalled to one of the +men in the doorway. A bit of cold pie was brought and a glass of beer, +and I wolfed them down like a pig--or rather, like Ned Ainslie, for I +was keeping up my character. In the middle of my meal he spoke +suddenly to me in German, but I turned on him a face as blank as a +stone wall. + +Then I told him my story--how I had come off an Archangel ship at Leith +a week ago, and was making my way overland to my brother at Wigtown. I +had run short of cash--I hinted vaguely at a spree--and I was pretty +well on my uppers when I had come on a hole in a hedge, and, looking +through, had seen a big motor-car lying in the burn. I had poked about +to see what had happened, and had found three sovereigns lying on the +seat and one on the floor. There was nobody there or any sign of an +owner, so I had pocketed the cash. But somehow the law had got after +me. When I had tried to change a sovereign in a baker's shop, the +woman had cried on the police, and a little later, when I was washing +my face in a burn, I had been nearly gripped, and had only got away by +leaving my coat and waistcoat behind me. + +'They can have the money back,' I cried, 'for a fat lot of good it's +done me. Those perishers are all down on a poor man. Now, if it had +been you, guv'nor, that had found the quids, nobody would have troubled +you.' + +'You're a good liar, Hannay,' he said. + +I flew into a rage. 'Stop fooling, damn you! I tell you my name's +Ainslie, and I never heard of anyone called Hannay in my born days. +I'd sooner have the police than you with your Hannays and your +monkey-faced pistol tricks ... No, guv'nor, I beg pardon, I don't mean +that. I'm much obliged to you for the grub, and I'll thank you to let +me go now the coast's clear.' + +It was obvious that he was badly puzzled. You see he had never seen +me, and my appearance must have altered considerably from my +photographs, if he had got one of them. I was pretty smart and well +dressed in London, and now I was a regular tramp. + +'I do not propose to let you go. If you are what you say you are, you +will soon have a chance of clearing yourself. If you are what I +believe you are, I do not think you will see the light much longer.' + +He rang a bell, and a third servant appeared from the veranda. + +'I want the Lanchester in five minutes,' he said. 'There will be three +to luncheon.' + +Then he looked steadily at me, and that was the hardest ordeal of all. + +There was something weird and devilish in those eyes, cold, malignant, +unearthly, and most hellishly clever. They fascinated me like the +bright eyes of a snake. I had a strong impulse to throw myself on his +mercy and offer to join his side, and if you consider the way I felt +about the whole thing you will see that that impulse must have been +purely physical, the weakness of a brain mesmerized and mastered by a +stronger spirit. But I managed to stick it out and even to grin. + +'You'll know me next time, guv'nor,' I said. + +'Karl,' he spoke in German to one of the men in the doorway, 'you will +put this fellow in the storeroom till I return, and you will be +answerable to me for his keeping.' + +I was marched out of the room with a pistol at each ear. + +The storeroom was a damp chamber in what had been the old farmhouse. +There was no carpet on the uneven floor, and nothing to sit down on but +a school form. It was black as pitch, for the windows were heavily +shuttered. I made out by groping that the walls were lined with boxes +and barrels and sacks of some heavy stuff. The whole place smelt of +mould and disuse. My gaolers turned the key in the door, and I could +hear them shifting their feet as they stood on guard outside. + +I sat down in that chilly darkness in a very miserable frame of mind. +The old boy had gone off in a motor to collect the two ruffians who had +interviewed me yesterday. Now, they had seen me as the roadman, and +they would remember me, for I was in the same rig. What was a roadman +doing twenty miles from his beat, pursued by the police? A question or +two would put them on the track. Probably they had seen Mr Turnbull, +probably Marmie too; most likely they could link me up with Sir Harry, +and then the whole thing would be crystal clear. What chance had I in +this moorland house with three desperadoes and their armed servants? + +I began to think wistfully of the police, now plodding over the hills +after my wraith. They at any rate were fellow-countrymen and honest +men, and their tender mercies would be kinder than these ghoulish +aliens. But they wouldn't have listened to me. That old devil with +the eyelids had not taken long to get rid of them. I thought he +probably had some kind of graft with the constabulary. Most likely he +had letters from Cabinet Ministers saying he was to be given every +facility for plotting against Britain. That's the sort of owlish way +we run our politics in the Old Country. + +The three would be back for lunch, so I hadn't more than a couple of +hours to wait. It was simply waiting on destruction, for I could see +no way out of this mess. I wished that I had Scudder's courage, for I +am free to confess I didn't feel any great fortitude. The only thing +that kept me going was that I was pretty furious. It made me boil with +rage to think of those three spies getting the pull on me like this. I +hoped that at any rate I might be able to twist one of their necks +before they downed me. + +The more I thought of it the angrier I grew, and I had to get up and +move about the room. I tried the shutters, but they were the kind that +lock with a key, and I couldn't move them. From the outside came the +faint clucking of hens in the warm sun. Then I groped among the sacks +and boxes. I couldn't open the latter, and the sacks seemed to be full +of things like dog-biscuits that smelt of cinnamon. But, as I +circumnavigated the room, I found a handle in the wall which seemed +worth investigating. + +It was the door of a wall cupboard--what they call a 'press' in +Scotland--and it was locked. I shook it, and it seemed rather flimsy. +For want of something better to do I put out my strength on that door, +getting some purchase on the handle by looping my braces round it. +Presently the thing gave with a crash which I thought would bring in my +warders to inquire. I waited for a bit, and then started to explore +the cupboard shelves. + +There was a multitude of queer things there. I found an odd vesta or +two in my trouser pockets and struck a light. It was out in a second, +but it showed me one thing. There was a little stock of electric +torches on one shelf. I picked up one, and found it was in working +order. + +With the torch to help me I investigated further. There were bottles +and cases of queer-smelling stuffs, chemicals no doubt for experiments, +and there were coils of fine copper wire and yanks and yanks of thin +oiled silk. There was a box of detonators, and a lot of cord for +fuses. Then away at the back of the shelf I found a stout brown +cardboard box, and inside it a wooden case. I managed to wrench it +open, and within lay half a dozen little grey bricks, each a couple of +inches square. + +I took up one, and found that it crumbled easily in my hand. Then I +smelt it and put my tongue to it. After that I sat down to think. I +hadn't been a mining engineer for nothing, and I knew lentonite when I +saw it. + +With one of these bricks I could blow the house to smithereens. I had +used the stuff in Rhodesia and knew its power. But the trouble was +that my knowledge wasn't exact. I had forgotten the proper charge and +the right way of preparing it, and I wasn't sure about the timing. I +had only a vague notion, too, as to its power, for though I had used it +I had not handled it with my own fingers. + +But it was a chance, the only possible chance. It was a mighty risk, +but against it was an absolute black certainty. If I used it the odds +were, as I reckoned, about five to one in favour of my blowing myself +into the tree-tops; but if I didn't I should very likely be occupying a +six-foot hole in the garden by the evening. That was the way I had to +look at it. The prospect was pretty dark either way, but anyhow there +was a chance, both for myself and for my country. + +The remembrance of little Scudder decided me. It was about the +beastliest moment of my life, for I'm no good at these cold-blooded +resolutions. Still I managed to rake up the pluck to set my teeth and +choke back the horrid doubts that flooded in on me. I simply shut off +my mind and pretended I was doing an experiment as simple as Guy Fawkes +fireworks. + +I got a detonator, and fixed it to a couple of feet of fuse. Then I +took a quarter of a lentonite brick, and buried it near the door below +one of the sacks in a crack of the floor, fixing the detonator in it. +For all I knew half those boxes might be dynamite. If the cupboard +held such deadly explosives, why not the boxes? In that case there +would be a glorious skyward journey for me and the German servants and +about an acre of surrounding country. There was also the risk that the +detonation might set off the other bricks in the cupboard, for I had +forgotten most that I knew about lentonite. But it didn't do to begin +thinking about the possibilities. The odds were horrible, but I had to +take them. + +I ensconced myself just below the sill of the window, and lit the fuse. +Then I waited for a moment or two. There was dead silence--only a +shuffle of heavy boots in the passage, and the peaceful cluck of hens +from the warm out-of-doors. I commended my soul to my Maker, and +wondered where I would be in five seconds ... + +A great wave of heat seemed to surge upwards from the floor, and hang +for a blistering instant in the air. Then the wall opposite me flashed +into a golden yellow and dissolved with a rending thunder that hammered +my brain into a pulp. Something dropped on me, catching the point of +my left shoulder. + +And then I think I became unconscious. + +My stupor can scarcely have lasted beyond a few seconds. I felt myself +being choked by thick yellow fumes, and struggled out of the debris to +my feet. Somewhere behind me I felt fresh air. The jambs of the +window had fallen, and through the ragged rent the smoke was pouring +out to the summer noon. I stepped over the broken lintel, and found +myself standing in a yard in a dense and acrid fog. I felt very sick +and ill, but I could move my limbs, and I staggered blindly forward +away from the house. + +A small mill-lade ran in a wooden aqueduct at the other side of the +yard, and into this I fell. The cool water revived me, and I had just +enough wits left to think of escape. I squirmed up the lade among the +slippery green slime till I reached the mill-wheel. Then I wriggled +through the axle hole into the old mill and tumbled on to a bed of +chaff. A nail caught the seat of my trousers, and I left a wisp of +heather-mixture behind me. + +The mill had been long out of use. The ladders were rotten with age, +and in the loft the rats had gnawed great holes in the floor. Nausea +shook me, and a wheel in my head kept turning, while my left shoulder +and arm seemed to be stricken with the palsy. I looked out of the +window and saw a fog still hanging over the house and smoke escaping +from an upper window. Please God I had set the place on fire, for I +could hear confused cries coming from the other side. + +But I had no time to linger, since this mill was obviously a bad +hiding-place. Anyone looking for me would naturally follow the lade, +and I made certain the search would begin as soon as they found that my +body was not in the storeroom. From another window I saw that on the +far side of the mill stood an old stone dovecot. If I could get there +without leaving tracks I might find a hiding-place, for I argued that +my enemies, if they thought I could move, would conclude I had made for +open country, and would go seeking me on the moor. + +I crawled down the broken ladder, scattering chaff behind me to cover +my footsteps. I did the same on the mill floor, and on the threshold +where the door hung on broken hinges. Peeping out, I saw that between +me and the dovecot was a piece of bare cobbled ground, where no +footmarks would show. Also it was mercifully hid by the mill buildings +from any view from the house. I slipped across the space, got to the +back of the dovecot and prospected a way of ascent. + +That was one of the hardest jobs I ever took on. My shoulder and arm +ached like hell, and I was so sick and giddy that I was always on the +verge of falling. But I managed it somehow. By the use of out-jutting +stones and gaps in the masonry and a tough ivy root I got to the top in +the end. There was a little parapet behind which I found space to lie +down. Then I proceeded to go off into an old-fashioned swoon. + +I woke with a burning head and the sun glaring in my face. For a long +time I lay motionless, for those horrible fumes seemed to have loosened +my joints and dulled my brain. Sounds came to me from the house--men +speaking throatily and the throbbing of a stationary car. There was a +little gap in the parapet to which I wriggled, and from which I had +some sort of prospect of the yard. I saw figures come out--a servant +with his head bound up, and then a younger man in knickerbockers. They +were looking for something, and moved towards the mill. Then one of +them caught sight of the wisp of cloth on the nail, and cried out to +the other. They both went back to the house, and brought two more to +look at it. I saw the rotund figure of my late captor, and I thought I +made out the man with the lisp. I noticed that all had pistols. + +For half an hour they ransacked the mill. I could hear them kicking +over the barrels and pulling up the rotten planking. Then they came +outside, and stood just below the dovecot arguing fiercely. The +servant with the bandage was being soundly rated. I heard them +fiddling with the door of the dovecote and for one horrid moment I +fancied they were coming up. Then they thought better of it, and went +back to the house. + +All that long blistering afternoon I lay baking on the rooftop. Thirst +was my chief torment. My tongue was like a stick, and to make it worse +I could hear the cool drip of water from the mill-lade. I watched the +course of the little stream as it came in from the moor, and my fancy +followed it to the top of the glen, where it must issue from an icy +fountain fringed with cool ferns and mosses. I would have given a +thousand pounds to plunge my face into that. + +I had a fine prospect of the whole ring of moorland. I saw the car +speed away with two occupants, and a man on a hill pony riding east. I +judged they were looking for me, and I wished them joy of their quest. + +But I saw something else more interesting. The house stood almost on +the summit of a swell of moorland which crowned a sort of plateau, and +there was no higher point nearer than the big hills six miles off. The +actual summit, as I have mentioned, was a biggish clump of trees--firs +mostly, with a few ashes and beeches. On the dovecot I was almost on a +level with the tree-tops, and could see what lay beyond. The wood was +not solid, but only a ring, and inside was an oval of green turf, for +all the world like a big cricket-field. + +I didn't take long to guess what it was. It was an aerodrome, and a +secret one. The place had been most cunningly chosen. For suppose +anyone were watching an aeroplane descending here, he would think it +had gone over the hill beyond the trees. As the place was on the top +of a rise in the midst of a big amphitheatre, any observer from any +direction would conclude it had passed out of view behind the hill. +Only a man very close at hand would realize that the aeroplane had not +gone over but had descended in the midst of the wood. An observer with +a telescope on one of the higher hills might have discovered the truth, +but only herds went there, and herds do not carry spy-glasses. When I +looked from the dovecot I could see far away a blue line which I knew +was the sea, and I grew furious to think that our enemies had this +secret conning-tower to rake our waterways. + +Then I reflected that if that aeroplane came back the chances were ten +to one that I would be discovered. So through the afternoon I lay and +prayed for the coming of darkness, and glad I was when the sun went +down over the big western hills and the twilight haze crept over the +moor. The aeroplane was late. The gloaming was far advanced when I +heard the beat of wings and saw it volplaning downward to its home in +the wood. Lights twinkled for a bit and there was much coming and +going from the house. Then the dark fell, and silence. + +Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last quarter +and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow me to +tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started to +descend. It wasn't easy, and half-way down I heard the back door of +the house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill wall. +For some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed that whoever it +was would not come round by the dovecot. Then the light disappeared, +and I dropped as softly as I could on to the hard soil of the yard. + +I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the +fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to do +it I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I +realized that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty +certain that there would be some kind of defence round the house, so I +went through the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully every inch +before me. It was as well, for presently I came on a wire about two +feet from the ground. If I had tripped over that, it would doubtless +have rung some bell in the house and I would have been captured. + +A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly placed on the +edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and in five minutes +I was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was round the shoulder of +the rise, in the little glen from which the mill-lade flowed. Ten +minutes later my face was in the spring, and I was soaking down pints +of the blessed water. + +But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me and +that accursed dwelling. + + + +CHAPTER SEVEN + +The Dry-Fly Fisherman + +I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn't +feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was +clouded by my severe bodily discomfort. Those lentonite fumes had +fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn't helped +matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat. Also +my shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a bruise, +but it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm. + +My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull's cottage, recover my garments, and +especially Scudder's note-book, and then make for the main line and get +back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I got in touch with +the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the better. I didn't see +how I could get more proof than I had got already. He must just take +or leave my story, and anyway, with him I would be in better hands than +those devilish Germans. I had begun to feel quite kindly towards the +British police. + +It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty about +the road. Sir Harry's map had given me the lie of the land, and all I +had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west to come to the +stream where I had met the roadman. In all these travels I never knew +the names of the places, but I believe this stream was no less than the +upper waters of the river Tweed. I calculated I must be about eighteen +miles distant, and that meant I could not get there before morning. So +I must lie up a day somewhere, for I was too outrageous a figure to be +seen in the sunlight. I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, +my trousers were badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the +explosion. I daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they +were furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for +God-fearing citizens to see on a highroad. + +Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a hill +burn, and then approached a herd's cottage, for I was feeling the need +of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was alone, with no +neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body, and a plucky one, +for though she got a fright when she saw me, she had an axe handy, and +would have used it on any evil-doer. I told her that I had had a +fall--I didn't say how--and she saw by my looks that I was pretty sick. +Like a true Samaritan she asked no questions, but gave me a bowl of +milk with a dash of whisky in it, and let me sit for a little by her +kitchen fire. She would have bathed my shoulder, but it ached so badly +that I would not let her touch it. + +I don't know what she took me for--a repentant burglar, perhaps; for +when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a sovereign which +was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head and said something +about 'giving it to them that had a right to it'. At this I protested +so strongly that I think she believed me honest, for she took the money +and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and an old hat of her man's. She +showed me how to wrap the plaid around my shoulders, and when I left +that cottage I was the living image of the kind of Scotsman you see in +the illustrations to Burns's poems. But at any rate I was more or less +clad. + +It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick +drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the +crook of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable bed. +There I managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped and +wretched, with my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the oatcake +and cheese the old wife had given me and set out again just before the +darkening. + +I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There were +no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my memory +of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty falls into +peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow flies, but my +mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was completed with set +teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I managed it, and in the +early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull's door. The mist lay close +and thick, and from the cottage I could not see the highroad. + +Mr Turnbull himself opened to me--sober and something more than sober. +He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended suit of black; he +had been shaved not later than the night before; he wore a linen +collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible. At first he +did not recognize me. + +'Whae are ye that comes stravaigin' here on the Sabbath mornin'?' he +asked. + +I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason for +this strange decorum. + +My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a coherent +answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill. + +'Hae ye got my specs?' he asked. + +I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them. + +'Ye'll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,' he said. 'Come in-bye. +Losh, man, ye're terrible dune i' the legs. Haud up till I get ye to a +chair.' + +I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of fever +in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my shoulder +and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel pretty bad. +Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with my clothes, and +putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that lined the kitchen +walls. + +He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was dead +years ago, and since his daughter's marriage he lived alone. + +For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I needed. +I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its course, +and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had more or less +cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and though I was out of +bed in five days, it took me some time to get my legs again. + +He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and locking the +door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit silent in the +chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When I was getting +better, he never bothered me with a question. Several times he fetched +me a two days' old SCOTSMAN, and I noticed that the interest in the +Portland Place murder seemed to have died down. There was no mention +of it, and I could find very little about anything except a thing +called the General Assembly--some ecclesiastical spree, I gathered. + +One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. 'There's a +terrible heap o' siller in't,' he said. 'Ye'd better coont it to see +it's a' there.' + +He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had been around +making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making. + +'Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta'en my +place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on at +me, and syne I said he maun be thinkin' o' my gude-brither frae the +Cleuch that whiles lent me a haun'. He was a wersh-lookin' sowl, and I +couldna understand the half o' his English tongue.' + +I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself +fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June, +and as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking some +cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of Turnbull's, +and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to take me with him. + +I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard job I had +of it. There never was a more independent being. He grew positively +rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and took the money at last +without a thank you. When I told him how much I owed him, he grunted +something about 'ae guid turn deservin' anither'. You would have +thought from our leave-taking that we had parted in disgust. + +Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass and +down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets and sheep +prices, and he made up his mind I was a 'pack-shepherd' from those +parts--whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat, as I have said, +gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving cattle is a mortally +slow job, and we took the better part of the day to cover a dozen miles. + +If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that time. +It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing prospect of +brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual sound of larks and +curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind for the summer, and +little for Hislop's conversation, for as the fateful fifteenth of June +drew near I was overweighed with the hopeless difficulties of my +enterprise. + +I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked the two +miles to the junction on the main line. The night express for the +south was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time I went up +on the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me. I all but +slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the train with +two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class cushions and +the smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully. At any rate, I +felt now that I was getting to grips with my job. + +I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to +get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and +changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire. +Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow reedy streams. +About eight o'clock in the evening, a weary and travel-stained being--a +cross between a farm-labourer and a vet--with a checked black-and-white +plaid over his arm (for I did not dare to wear it south of the Border), +descended at the little station of Artinswell. There were several +people on the platform, and I thought I had better wait to ask my way +till I was clear of the place. + +The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a shallow +valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the distant trees. +After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but infinitely sweet, for +the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes of blossom. +Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow stream flowed +between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little above it was a mill; +and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in the scented dusk. Somehow +the place soothed me and put me at my ease. I fell to whistling as I +looked into the green depths, and the tune which came to my lips was +'Annie Laurie'. + +A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he too +began to whistle. The tune was infectious, for he followed my suit. +He was a huge man in untidy old flannels and a wide-brimmed hat, with a +canvas bag slung on his shoulder. He nodded to me, and I thought I had +never seen a shrewder or better-tempered face. He leaned his delicate +ten-foot split-cane rod against the bridge, and looked with me at the +water. + +'Clear, isn't it?' he said pleasantly. 'I back our Kenner any day +against the Test. Look at that big fellow. Four pounds if he's an +ounce. But the evening rise is over and you can't tempt 'em.' + +'I don't see him,' said I. + +'Look! There! A yard from the reeds just above that stickle.' + +'I've got him now. You might swear he was a black stone.' + +'So,' he said, and whistled another bar of 'Annie Laurie'. + +'Twisdon's the name, isn't it?' he said over his shoulder, his eyes +still fixed on the stream. + +'No,' I said. 'I mean to say, Yes.' I had forgotten all about my +alias. + +'It's a wise conspirator that knows his own name,' he observed, +grinning broadly at a moor-hen that emerged from the bridge's shadow. + +I stood up and looked at him, at the square, cleft jaw and broad, lined +brow and the firm folds of cheek, and began to think that here at last +was an ally worth having. His whimsical blue eyes seemed to go very +deep. + +Suddenly he frowned. 'I call it disgraceful,' he said, raising his +voice. 'Disgraceful that an able-bodied man like you should dare to +beg. You can get a meal from my kitchen, but you'll get no money from +me.' + +A dog-cart was passing, driven by a young man who raised his whip to +salute the fisherman. When he had gone, he picked up his rod. + +'That's my house,' he said, pointing to a white gate a hundred yards +on. 'Wait five minutes and then go round to the back door.' And with +that he left me. + +I did as I was bidden. I found a pretty cottage with a lawn running +down to the stream, and a perfect jungle of guelder-rose and lilac +flanking the path. The back door stood open, and a grave butler was +awaiting me. + +'Come this way, Sir,' he said, and he led me along a passage and up a +back staircase to a pleasant bedroom looking towards the river. There +I found a complete outfit laid out for me--dress clothes with all the +fixings, a brown flannel suit, shirts, collars, ties, shaving things +and hair-brushes, even a pair of patent shoes. 'Sir Walter thought as +how Mr Reggie's things would fit you, Sir,' said the butler. 'He keeps +some clothes 'ere, for he comes regular on the week-ends. There's a +bathroom next door, and I've prepared a 'ot bath. Dinner in 'alf an +hour, Sir. You'll 'ear the gong.' + +The grave being withdrew, and I sat down in a chintz-covered easy-chair +and gaped. It was like a pantomime, to come suddenly out of beggardom +into this orderly comfort. Obviously Sir Walter believed in me, though +why he did I could not guess. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw +a wild, haggard brown fellow, with a fortnight's ragged beard, and dust +in ears and eyes, collarless, vulgarly shirted, with shapeless old +tweed clothes and boots that had not been cleaned for the better part +of a month. I made a fine tramp and a fair drover; and here I was +ushered by a prim butler into this temple of gracious ease. And the +best of it was that they did not even know my name. + +I resolved not to puzzle my head but to take the gifts the gods had +provided. I shaved and bathed luxuriously, and got into the dress +clothes and clean crackling shirt, which fitted me not so badly. By +the time I had finished the looking-glass showed a not unpersonable +young man. + +Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little round table +was lit with silver candles. The sight of him--so respectable and +established and secure, the embodiment of law and government and all +the conventions--took me aback and made me feel an interloper. He +couldn't know the truth about me, or he wouldn't treat me like this. I +simply could not accept his hospitality on false pretences. + +'I'm more obliged to you than I can say, but I'm bound to make things +clear,' I said. 'I'm an innocent man, but I'm wanted by the police. +I've got to tell you this, and I won't be surprised if you kick me out.' + +He smiled. 'That's all right. Don't let that interfere with your +appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.' I never ate a +meal with greater relish, for I had had nothing all day but railway +sandwiches. Sir Walter did me proud, for we drank a good champagne and +had some uncommon fine port afterwards. It made me almost hysterical +to be sitting there, waited on by a footman and a sleek butler, and +remember that I had been living for three weeks like a brigand, with +every man's hand against me. I told Sir Walter about tiger-fish in the +Zambesi that bite off your fingers if you give them a chance, and we +discussed sport up and down the globe, for he had hunted a bit in his +day. + +We went to his study for coffee, a jolly room full of books and +trophies and untidiness and comfort. I made up my mind that if ever I +got rid of this business and had a house of my own, I would create just +such a room. Then when the coffee-cups were cleared away, and we had +got our cigars alight, my host swung his long legs over the side of his +chair and bade me get started with my yarn. + +'I've obeyed Harry's instructions,' he said, 'and the bribe he offered +me was that you would tell me something to wake me up. I'm ready, Mr +Hannay.' + +I noticed with a start that he called me by my proper name. + +I began at the very beginning. I told of my boredom in London, and the +night I had come back to find Scudder gibbering on my doorstep. I told +him all Scudder had told me about Karolides and the Foreign Office +conference, and that made him purse his lips and grin. + +Then I got to the murder, and he grew solemn again. He heard all about +the milkman and my time in Galloway, and my deciphering Scudder's notes +at the inn. + +'You've got them here?' he asked sharply, and drew a long breath when I +whipped the little book from my pocket. + +I said nothing of the contents. Then I described my meeting with Sir +Harry, and the speeches at the hall. At that he laughed uproariously. + +'Harry talked dashed nonsense, did he? I quite believe it. He's as +good a chap as ever breathed, but his idiot of an uncle has stuffed his +head with maggots. Go on, Mr Hannay.' + +My day as roadman excited him a bit. He made me describe the two +fellows in the car very closely, and seemed to be raking back in his +memory. He grew merry again when he heard of the fate of that ass +Jopley. + +But the old man in the moorland house solemnized him. Again I had to +describe every detail of his appearance. + +'Bland and bald-headed and hooded his eyes like a bird ... He sounds a +sinister wild-fowl! And you dynamited his hermitage, after he had +saved you from the police. Spirited piece of work, that!' Presently I +reached the end of my wanderings. He got up slowly, and looked down at +me from the hearth-rug. + +'You may dismiss the police from your mind,' he said. 'You're in no +danger from the law of this land.' + +'Great Scot!' I cried. 'Have they got the murderer?' + +'No. But for the last fortnight they have dropped you from the list of +possibles.' + +'Why?' I asked in amazement. + +'Principally because I received a letter from Scudder. I knew +something of the man, and he did several jobs for me. He was half +crank, half genius, but he was wholly honest. The trouble about him +was his partiality for playing a lone hand. That made him pretty well +useless in any Secret Service--a pity, for he had uncommon gifts. I +think he was the bravest man in the world, for he was always shivering +with fright, and yet nothing would choke him off. I had a letter from +him on the 31st of May.' + +'But he had been dead a week by then.' + +'The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. He evidently did not +anticipate an immediate decease. His communications usually took a +week to reach me, for they were sent under cover to Spain and then to +Newcastle. He had a mania, you know, for concealing his tracks.' + +'What did he say?' I stammered. + +'Nothing. Merely that he was in danger, but had found shelter with a +good friend, and that I would hear from him before the 15th of June. +He gave me no address, but said he was living near Portland Place. I +think his object was to clear you if anything happened. When I got it +I went to Scotland Yard, went over the details of the inquest, and +concluded that you were the friend. We made inquiries about you, Mr +Hannay, and found you were respectable. I thought I knew the motives +for your disappearance--not only the police, the other one too--and +when I got Harry's scrawl I guessed at the rest. I have been expecting +you any time this past week.' You can imagine what a load this took off +my mind. I felt a free man once more, for I was now up against my +country's enemies only, and not my country's law. + +'Now let us have the little note-book,' said Sir Walter. + +It took us a good hour to work through it. I explained the cypher, and +he was jolly quick at picking it up. He emended my reading of it on +several points, but I had been fairly correct, on the whole. His face +was very grave before he had finished, and he sat silent for a while. + +'I don't know what to make of it,' he said at last. 'He is right about +one thing--what is going to happen the day after tomorrow. How the +devil can it have got known? That is ugly enough in itself. But all +this about war and the Black Stone--it reads like some wild melodrama. +If only I had more confidence in Scudder's judgement. The trouble +about him was that he was too romantic. He had the artistic +temperament, and wanted a story to be better than God meant it to be. +He had a lot of odd biases, too. Jews, for example, made him see red. +Jews and the high finance. + +'The Black Stone,' he repeated. 'DER SCHWARZE STEIN. It's like a +penny novelette. And all this stuff about Karolides. That is the weak +part of the tale, for I happen to know that the virtuous Karolides is +likely to outlast us both. There is no State in Europe that wants him +gone. Besides, he has just been playing up to Berlin and Vienna and +giving my Chief some uneasy moments. No! Scudder has gone off the +track there. Frankly, Hannay, I don't believe that part of his story. +There's some nasty business afoot, and he found out too much and lost +his life over it. But I am ready to take my oath that it is ordinary +spy work. A certain great European Power makes a hobby of her spy +system, and her methods are not too particular. Since she pays by +piecework her blackguards are not likely to stick at a murder or two. +They want our naval dispositions for their collection at the Marineamt; +but they will be pigeon-holed--nothing more.' + +Just then the butler entered the room. + +'There's a trunk-call from London, Sir Walter. It's Mr 'Eath, and he +wants to speak to you personally.' + +My host went off to the telephone. + +He returned in five minutes with a whitish face. 'I apologize to the +shade of Scudder,' he said. 'Karolides was shot dead this evening at a +few minutes after seven.' + + + +CHAPTER EIGHT + +The Coming of the Black Stone + +I came down to breakfast next morning, after eight hours of blessed +dreamless sleep, to find Sir Walter decoding a telegram in the midst of +muffins and marmalade. His fresh rosiness of yesterday seemed a +thought tarnished. + +'I had a busy hour on the telephone after you went to bed,' he said. +'I got my Chief to speak to the First Lord and the Secretary for War, +and they are bringing Royer over a day sooner. This wire clinches it. +He will be in London at five. Odd that the code word for a SOUS-CHEF +D/ETAT MAJOR-GENERAL should be "Porker".' + +He directed me to the hot dishes and went on. + +'Not that I think it will do much good. If your friends were clever +enough to find out the first arrangement they are clever enough to +discover the change. I would give my head to know where the leak is. +We believed there were only five men in England who knew about Royer's +visit, and you may be certain there were fewer in France, for they +manage these things better there.' + +While I ate he continued to talk, making me to my surprise a present of +his full confidence. + +'Can the dispositions not be changed?' I asked. + +'They could,' he said. 'But we want to avoid that if possible. They +are the result of immense thought, and no alteration would be as good. +Besides, on one or two points change is simply impossible. Still, +something could be done, I suppose, if it were absolutely necessary. +But you see the difficulty, Hannay. Our enemies are not going to be +such fools as to pick Royer's pocket or any childish game like that. +They know that would mean a row and put us on our guard. Their aim is +to get the details without any one of us knowing, so that Royer will go +back to Paris in the belief that the whole business is still deadly +secret. If they can't do that they fail, for, once we suspect, they +know that the whole thing must be altered.' + +'Then we must stick by the Frenchman's side till he is home again,' I +said. 'If they thought they could get the information in Paris they +would try there. It means that they have some deep scheme on foot in +London which they reckon is going to win out.' + +'Royer dines with my Chief, and then comes to my house where four +people will see him--Whittaker from the Admiralty, myself, Sir Arthur +Drew, and General Winstanley. The First Lord is ill, and has gone to +Sheringham. At my house he will get a certain document from Whittaker, +and after that he will be motored to Portsmouth where a destroyer will +take him to Havre. His journey is too important for the ordinary +boat-train. He will never be left unattended for a moment till he is +safe on French soil. The same with Whittaker till he meets Royer. +That is the best we can do, and it's hard to see how there can be any +miscarriage. But I don't mind admitting that I'm horribly nervous. +This murder of Karolides will play the deuce in the chancelleries of +Europe.' + +After breakfast he asked me if I could drive a car. 'Well, you'll be +my chauffeur today and wear Hudson's rig. You're about his size. You +have a hand in this business and we are taking no risks. There are +desperate men against us, who will not respect the country retreat of +an overworked official.' + +When I first came to London I had bought a car and amused myself with +running about the south of England, so I knew something of the +geography. I took Sir Walter to town by the Bath Road and made good +going. It was a soft breathless June morning, with a promise of +sultriness later, but it was delicious enough swinging through the +little towns with their freshly watered streets, and past the summer +gardens of the Thames valley. I landed Sir Walter at his house in +Queen Anne's Gate punctually by half-past eleven. The butler was +coming up by train with the luggage. + +The first thing he did was to take me round to Scotland Yard. There we +saw a prim gentleman, with a clean-shaven, lawyer's face. + +'I've brought you the Portland Place murderer,' was Sir Walter's +introduction. + +The reply was a wry smile. 'It would have been a welcome present, +Bullivant. This, I presume, is Mr Richard Hannay, who for some days +greatly interested my department.' + +'Mr Hannay will interest it again. He has much to tell you, but not +today. For certain grave reasons his tale must wait for four hours. +Then, I can promise you, you will be entertained and possibly edified. +I want you to assure Mr Hannay that he will suffer no further +inconvenience.' + +This assurance was promptly given. 'You can take up your life where +you left off,' I was told. 'Your flat, which probably you no longer +wish to occupy, is waiting for you, and your man is still there. As +you were never publicly accused, we considered that there was no need +of a public exculpation. But on that, of course, you must please +yourself.' + +'We may want your assistance later on, MacGillivray,' Sir Walter said +as we left. + +Then he turned me loose. + +'Come and see me tomorrow, Hannay. I needn't tell you to keep deadly +quiet. If I were you I would go to bed, for you must have considerable +arrears of sleep to overtake. You had better lie low, for if one of +your Black Stone friends saw you there might be trouble.' + +I felt curiously at a loose end. At first it was very pleasant to be a +free man, able to go where I wanted without fearing anything. I had +only been a month under the ban of the law, and it was quite enough for +me. I went to the Savoy and ordered very carefully a very good +luncheon, and then smoked the best cigar the house could provide. But +I was still feeling nervous. When I saw anybody look at me in the +lounge, I grew shy, and wondered if they were thinking about the murder. + +After that I took a taxi and drove miles away up into North London. I +walked back through fields and lines of villas and terraces and then +slums and mean streets, and it took me pretty nearly two hours. All +the while my restlessness was growing worse. I felt that great things, +tremendous things, were happening or about to happen, and I, who was +the cog-wheel of the whole business, was out of it. Royer would be +landing at Dover, Sir Walter would be making plans with the few people +in England who were in the secret, and somewhere in the darkness the +Black Stone would be working. I felt the sense of danger and impending +calamity, and I had the curious feeling, too, that I alone could avert +it, alone could grapple with it. But I was out of the game now. How +could it be otherwise? It was not likely that Cabinet Ministers and +Admiralty Lords and Generals would admit me to their councils. + +I actually began to wish that I could run up against one of my three +enemies. That would lead to developments. I felt that I wanted +enormously to have a vulgar scrap with those gentry, where I could hit +out and flatten something. I was rapidly getting into a very bad +temper. + +I didn't feel like going back to my flat. That had to be faced some +time, but as I still had sufficient money I thought I would put it off +till next morning, and go to a hotel for the night. + +My irritation lasted through dinner, which I had at a restaurant in +Jermyn Street. I was no longer hungry, and let several courses pass +untasted. I drank the best part of a bottle of Burgundy, but it did +nothing to cheer me. An abominable restlessness had taken possession +of me. Here was I, a very ordinary fellow, with no particular brains, +and yet I was convinced that somehow I was needed to help this business +through--that without me it would all go to blazes. I told myself it +was sheer silly conceit, that four or five of the cleverest people +living, with all the might of the British Empire at their back, had the +job in hand. Yet I couldn't be convinced. It seemed as if a voice +kept speaking in my ear, telling me to be up and doing, or I would +never sleep again. + +The upshot was that about half-past nine I made up my mind to go to +Queen Anne's Gate. Very likely I would not be admitted, but it would +ease my conscience to try. + +I walked down Jermyn Street, and at the corner of Duke Street passed a +group of young men. They were in evening dress, had been dining +somewhere, and were going on to a music-hall. One of them was Mr +Marmaduke Jopley. + +He saw me and stopped short. + +'By God, the murderer!' he cried. 'Here, you fellows, hold him! +That's Hannay, the man who did the Portland Place murder!' He gripped +me by the arm, and the others crowded round. I wasn't looking for any +trouble, but my ill-temper made me play the fool. A policeman came up, +and I should have told him the truth, and, if he didn't believe it, +demanded to be taken to Scotland Yard, or for that matter to the +nearest police station. But a delay at that moment seemed to me +unendurable, and the sight of Marmie's imbecile face was more than I +could bear. I let out with my left, and had the satisfaction of seeing +him measure his length in the gutter. + +Then began an unholy row. They were all on me at once, and the +policeman took me in the rear. I got in one or two good blows, for I +think, with fair play, I could have licked the lot of them, but the +policeman pinned me behind, and one of them got his fingers on my +throat. + +Through a black cloud of rage I heard the officer of the law asking +what was the matter, and Marmie, between his broken teeth, declaring +that I was Hannay the murderer. + +'Oh, damn it all,' I cried, 'make the fellow shut up. I advise you to +leave me alone, constable. Scotland Yard knows all about me, and +you'll get a proper wigging if you interfere with me.' + +'You've got to come along of me, young man,' said the policeman. 'I +saw you strike that gentleman crool 'ard. You began it too, for he +wasn't doing nothing. I seen you. Best go quietly or I'll have to fix +you up.' + +Exasperation and an overwhelming sense that at no cost must I delay +gave me the strength of a bull elephant. I fairly wrenched the +constable off his feet, floored the man who was gripping my collar, and +set off at my best pace down Duke Street. I heard a whistle being +blown, and the rush of men behind me. + +I have a very fair turn of speed, and that night I had wings. In a +jiffy I was in Pall Mall and had turned down towards St James's Park. +I dodged the policeman at the Palace gates, dived through a press of +carriages at the entrance to the Mall, and was making for the bridge +before my pursuers had crossed the roadway. In the open ways of the +Park I put on a spurt. Happily there were few people about and no one +tried to stop me. I was staking all on getting to Queen Anne's Gate. + +When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir +Walter's house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four +motor-cars were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and walked +briskly up to the door. If the butler refused me admission, or if he +even delayed to open the door, I was done. + +He didn't delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened. + +'I must see Sir Walter,' I panted. 'My business is desperately +important.' + +That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held the door +open, and then shut it behind me. 'Sir Walter is engaged, Sir, and I +have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait.' + +The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and rooms on +both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a telephone and a +couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat. + +'See here,' I whispered. 'There's trouble about and I'm in it. But +Sir Walter knows, and I'm working for him. If anyone comes and asks if +I am here, tell him a lie.' + +He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the street, and +a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man more than that +butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a graven image waited +to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He told them whose house it +was, and what his orders were, and simply froze them off the doorstep. +I could see it all from my alcove, and it was better than any play. + +I hadn't waited long till there came another ring at the bell. The +butler made no bones about admitting this new visitor. + +While he was taking off his coat I saw who it was. You couldn't open a +newspaper or a magazine without seeing that face--the grey beard cut +like a spade, the firm fighting mouth, the blunt square nose, and the +keen blue eyes. I recognized the First Sea Lord, the man, they say, +that made the new British Navy. + +He passed my alcove and was ushered into a room at the back of the +hall. As the door opened I could hear the sound of low voices. It +shut, and I was left alone again. + +For twenty minutes I sat there, wondering what I was to do next. I was +still perfectly convinced that I was wanted, but when or how I had no +notion. I kept looking at my watch, and as the time crept on to +half-past ten I began to think that the conference must soon end. In a +quarter of an hour Royer should be speeding along the road to +Portsmouth ... + +Then I heard a bell ring, and the butler appeared. The door of the +back room opened, and the First Sea Lord came out. He walked past me, +and in passing he glanced in my direction, and for a second we looked +each other in the face. + +Only for a second, but it was enough to make my heart jump. I had +never seen the great man before, and he had never seen me. But in that +fraction of time something sprang into his eyes, and that something was +recognition. You can't mistake it. It is a flicker, a spark of light, +a minute shade of difference which means one thing and one thing only. +It came involuntarily, for in a moment it died, and he passed on. In a +maze of wild fancies I heard the street door close behind him. + +I picked up the telephone book and looked up the number of his house. +We were connected at once, and I heard a servant's voice. + +'Is his Lordship at home?' I asked. + +'His Lordship returned half an hour ago,' said the voice, 'and has gone +to bed. He is not very well tonight. Will you leave a message, Sir?' + +I rang off and almost tumbled into a chair. My part in this business +was not yet ended. It had been a close shave, but I had been in time. + +Not a moment could be lost, so I marched boldly to the door of that +back room and entered without knocking. + +Five surprised faces looked up from a round table. There was Sir +Walter, and Drew the War Minister, whom I knew from his photographs. +There was a slim elderly man, who was probably Whittaker, the Admiralty +official, and there was General Winstanley, conspicuous from the long +scar on his forehead. Lastly, there was a short stout man with an +iron-grey moustache and bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the +middle of a sentence. + +Sir Walter's face showed surprise and annoyance. + +'This is Mr Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you,' he said +apologetically to the company. 'I'm afraid, Hannay, this visit is +ill-timed.' + +I was getting back my coolness. 'That remains to be seen, Sir,' I +said; 'but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God's sake, +gentlemen, tell me who went out a minute ago?' + +'Lord Alloa,' Sir Walter said, reddening with anger. + +'It was not,' I cried; 'it was his living image, but it was not Lord +Alloa. It was someone who recognized me, someone I have seen in the +last month. He had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up Lord +Alloa's house and was told he had come in half an hour before and +had gone to bed.' + +'Who--who--' someone stammered. + +'The Black Stone,' I cried, and I sat down in the chair so recently +vacated and looked round at five badly scared gentlemen. + + + +CHAPTER NINE + +The Thirty-Nine Steps + +'Nonsense!' said the official from the Admiralty. + +Sir Walter got up and left the room while we looked blankly at the +table. He came back in ten minutes with a long face. 'I have spoken +to Alloa,' he said. 'Had him out of bed--very grumpy. He went +straight home after Mulross's dinner.' + +'But it's madness,' broke in General Winstanley. 'Do you mean to tell +me that that man came here and sat beside me for the best part of half +an hour and that I didn't detect the imposture? Alloa must be out of +his mind.' + +'Don't you see the cleverness of it?' I said. 'You were too interested +in other things to have any eyes. You took Lord Alloa for granted. If +it had been anybody else you might have looked more closely, but it was +natural for him to be here, and that put you all to sleep.' + +Then the Frenchman spoke, very slowly and in good English. + +'The young man is right. His psychology is good. Our enemies have not +been foolish!' + +He bent his wise brows on the assembly. + +'I will tell you a tale,' he said. 'It happened many years ago in +Senegal. I was quartered in a remote station, and to pass the time +used to go fishing for big barbel in the river. A little Arab mare +used to carry my luncheon basket--one of the salted dun breed you got +at Timbuctoo in the old days. Well, one morning I had good sport, and +the mare was unaccountably restless. I could hear her whinnying and +squealing and stamping her feet, and I kept soothing her with my voice +while my mind was intent on fish. I could see her all the time, as I +thought, out of a corner of my eye, tethered to a tree twenty yards +away. After a couple of hours I began to think of food. I collected +my fish in a tarpaulin bag, and moved down the stream towards the mare, +trolling my line. When I got up to her I flung the tarpaulin on her +back--' + +He paused and looked round. + +'It was the smell that gave me warning. I turned my head and found +myself looking at a lion three feet off ... An old man-eater, that was +the terror of the village ... What was left of the mare, a mass of +blood and bones and hide, was behind him.' + +'What happened?' I asked. I was enough of a hunter to know a true yarn +when I heard it. + +'I stuffed my fishing-rod into his jaws, and I had a pistol. Also my +servants came presently with rifles. But he left his mark on me.' He +held up a hand which lacked three fingers. + +'Consider,' he said. 'The mare had been dead more than an hour, and +the brute had been patiently watching me ever since. I never saw the +kill, for I was accustomed to the mare's fretting, and I never marked +her absence, for my consciousness of her was only of something tawny, +and the lion filled that part. If I could blunder thus, gentlemen, in +a land where men's senses are keen, why should we busy preoccupied +urban folk not err also?' + +Sir Walter nodded. No one was ready to gainsay him. + +'But I don't see,' went on Winstanley. 'Their object was to get these +dispositions without our knowing it. Now it only required one of us to +mention to Alloa our meeting tonight for the whole fraud to be exposed.' + +Sir Walter laughed dryly. 'The selection of Alloa shows their acumen. +Which of us was likely to speak to him about tonight? Or was he likely +to open the subject?' + +I remembered the First Sea Lord's reputation for taciturnity and +shortness of temper. + +'The one thing that puzzles me,' said the General, 'is what good his +visit here would do that spy fellow? He could not carry away several +pages of figures and strange names in his head.' + +'That is not difficult,' the Frenchman replied. 'A good spy is trained +to have a photographic memory. Like your own Macaulay. You noticed he +said nothing, but went through these papers again and again. I think +we may assume that he has every detail stamped on his mind. When I was +younger I could do the same trick.' + +'Well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to change the plans,' said +Sir Walter ruefully. + +Whittaker was looking very glum. 'Did you tell Lord Alloa what has +happened?' he asked. 'No? Well, I can't speak with absolute +assurance, but I'm nearly certain we can't make any serious change +unless we alter the geography of England.' + +'Another thing must be said,' it was Royer who spoke. 'I talked freely +when that man was here. I told something of the military plans of my +Government. I was permitted to say so much. But that information +would be worth many millions to our enemies. No, my friends, I see no +other way. The man who came here and his confederates must be taken, +and taken at once.' + +'Good God,' I cried, 'and we have not a rag of a clue.' + +'Besides,' said Whittaker, 'there is the post. By this time the news +will be on its way.' + +'No,' said the Frenchman. 'You do not understand the habits of the +spy. He receives personally his reward, and he delivers personally his +intelligence. We in France know something of the breed. There is +still a chance, MES AMIS. These men must cross the sea, and there are +ships to be searched and ports to be watched. Believe me, the need is +desperate for both France and Britain.' + +Royer's grave good sense seemed to pull us together. He was the man of +action among fumblers. But I saw no hope in any face, and I felt none. +Where among the fifty millions of these islands and within a dozen +hours were we to lay hands on the three cleverest rogues in Europe? + +Then suddenly I had an inspiration. + +'Where is Scudder's book?' I cried to Sir Walter. 'Quick, man, I +remember something in it.' + +He unlocked the door of a bureau and gave it to me. + +I found the place. THIRTY-NINE STEPS, I read, and again, THIRTY-NINE +STEPS--I COUNTED THEM--HIGH TIDE 10.17 P.M. + +The Admiralty man was looking at me as if he thought I had gone mad. + +'Don't you see it's a clue,' I shouted. 'Scudder knew where these +fellows laired--he knew where they were going to leave the country, +though he kept the name to himself. Tomorrow was the day, and it was +some place where high tide was at 10.17.' + +'They may have gone tonight,' someone said. + +'Not they. They have their own snug secret way, and they won't be +hurried. I know Germans, and they are mad about working to a plan. +Where the devil can I get a book of Tide Tables?' + +Whittaker brightened up. 'It's a chance,' he said. 'Let's go over to +the Admiralty.' + +We got into two of the waiting motor-cars--all but Sir Walter, who went +off to Scotland Yard--to 'mobilize MacGillivray', so he said. We +marched through empty corridors and big bare chambers where the +charwomen were busy, till we reached a little room lined with books and +maps. A resident clerk was unearthed, who presently fetched from the +library the Admiralty Tide Tables. I sat at the desk and the others +stood round, for somehow or other I had got charge of this expedition. + +It was no good. There were hundreds of entries, and so far as I could +see 10.17 might cover fifty places. We had to find some way of +narrowing the possibilities. + +I took my head in my hands and thought. There must be some way of +reading this riddle. What did Scudder mean by steps? I thought of +dock steps, but if he had meant that I didn't think he would have +mentioned the number. It must be some place where there were several +staircases, and one marked out from the others by having thirty-nine +steps. + +Then I had a sudden thought, and hunted up all the steamer sailings. +There was no boat which left for the Continent at 10.17 p.m. + +Why was high tide so important? If it was a harbour it must be some +little place where the tide mattered, or else it was a heavy-draught +boat. But there was no regular steamer sailing at that hour, and +somehow I didn't think they would travel by a big boat from a regular +harbour. So it must be some little harbour where the tide was +important, or perhaps no harbour at all. + +But if it was a little port I couldn't see what the steps signified. +There were no sets of staircases on any harbour that I had ever seen. +It must be some place which a particular staircase identified, and +where the tide was full at 10.17. On the whole it seemed to me that +the place must be a bit of open coast. But the staircases kept +puzzling me. + +Then I went back to wider considerations. Whereabouts would a man be +likely to leave for Germany, a man in a hurry, who wanted a speedy and +a secret passage? Not from any of the big harbours. And not from the +Channel or the West Coast or Scotland, for, remember, he was starting +from London. I measured the distance on the map, and tried to put +myself in the enemy's shoes. I should try for Ostend or Antwerp or +Rotterdam, and I should sail from somewhere on the East Coast between +Cromer and Dover. + +All this was very loose guessing, and I don't pretend it was ingenious +or scientific. I wasn't any kind of Sherlock Holmes. But I have +always fancied I had a kind of instinct about questions like this. I +don't know if I can explain myself, but I used to use my brains as far +as they went, and after they came to a blank wall I guessed, and I +usually found my guesses pretty right. + +So I set out all my conclusions on a bit of Admiralty paper. They ran +like this: + + FAIRLY CERTAIN + + (1) Place where there are several sets of stairs; one that + matters distinguished by having thirty-nine steps. + + (2) Full tide at 10.17 p.m. Leaving shore only possible at full + tide. + + (3) Steps not dock steps, and so place probably not harbour. + + (4) No regular night steamer at 10.17. Means of transport must + be tramp (unlikely), yacht, or fishing-boat. + +There my reasoning stopped. I made another list, which I headed +'Guessed', but I was just as sure of the one as the other. + + GUESSED + + (1) Place not harbour but open coast. + + (2) Boat small--trawler, yacht, or launch. + + (3) Place somewhere on East Coast between Cromer and Dover. + +It struck me as odd that I should be sitting at that desk with a +Cabinet Minister, a Field-Marshal, two high Government officials, and a +French General watching me, while from the scribble of a dead man I was +trying to drag a secret which meant life or death for us. + +Sir Walter had joined us, and presently MacGillivray arrived. He had +sent out instructions to watch the ports and railway stations for the +three men whom I had described to Sir Walter. Not that he or anybody +else thought that that would do much good. + +'Here's the most I can make of it,' I said. 'We have got to find a +place where there are several staircases down to the beach, one of +which has thirty-nine steps. I think it's a piece of open coast with +biggish cliffs, somewhere between the Wash and the Channel. Also it's +a place where full tide is at 10.17 tomorrow night.' + +Then an idea struck me. 'Is there no Inspector of Coastguards or some +fellow like that who knows the East Coast?' + +Whittaker said there was, and that he lived in Clapham. He went off in +a car to fetch him, and the rest of us sat about the little room and +talked of anything that came into our heads. I lit a pipe and went +over the whole thing again till my brain grew weary. + +About one in the morning the coastguard man arrived. He was a fine old +fellow, with the look of a naval officer, and was desperately +respectful to the company. I left the War Minister to cross-examine +him, for I felt he would think it cheek in me to talk. + +'We want you to tell us the places you know on the East Coast where +there are cliffs, and where several sets of steps run down to the +beach.' + +He thought for a bit. 'What kind of steps do you mean, Sir? There are +plenty of places with roads cut down through the cliffs, and most roads +have a step or two in them. Or do you mean regular staircases--all +steps, so to speak?' + +Sir Arthur looked towards me. 'We mean regular staircases,' I said. + +He reflected a minute or two. 'I don't know that I can think of any. +Wait a second. There's a place in Norfolk--Brattlesham--beside a +golf-course, where there are a couple of staircases, to let the +gentlemen get a lost ball.' + +'That's not it,' I said. + +'Then there are plenty of Marine Parades, if that's what you mean. +Every seaside resort has them.' + +I shook my head. 'It's got to be more retired than that,' I said. + +'Well, gentlemen, I can't think of anywhere else. Of course, there's +the Ruff--' + +'What's that?' I asked. + +'The big chalk headland in Kent, close to Bradgate. It's got a lot of +villas on the top, and some of the houses have staircases down to a +private beach. It's a very high-toned sort of place, and the residents +there like to keep by themselves.' + +I tore open the Tide Tables and found Bradgate. High tide there was at +10.27 P.m. on the 15th of June. + +'We're on the scent at last,' I cried excitedly. 'How can I find out +what is the tide at the Ruff?' + +'I can tell you that, Sir,' said the coastguard man. 'I once was lent +a house there in this very month, and I used to go out at night to the +deep-sea fishing. The tide's ten minutes before Bradgate.' + +I closed the book and looked round at the company. + +'If one of those staircases has thirty-nine steps we have solved the +mystery, gentlemen,' I said. 'I want the loan of your car, Sir Walter, +and a map of the roads. If Mr MacGillivray will spare me ten minutes, +I think we can prepare something for tomorrow.' + +It was ridiculous in me to take charge of the business like this, but +they didn't seem to mind, and after all I had been in the show from the +start. Besides, I was used to rough jobs, and these eminent gentlemen +were too clever not to see it. It was General Royer who gave me my +commission. 'I for one,' he said, 'am content to leave the matter in +Mr Hannay's hands.' + +By half-past three I was tearing past the moonlit hedgerows of Kent, +with MacGillivray's best man on the seat beside me. + + + +CHAPTER TEN + +Various Parties Converging on the Sea + +A pink and blue June morning found me at Bradgate looking from the +Griffin Hotel over a smooth sea to the lightship on the Cock sands +which seemed the size of a bell-buoy. A couple of miles farther south +and much nearer the shore a small destroyer was anchored. Scaife, +MacGillivray's man, who had been in the Navy, knew the boat, and told +me her name and her commander's, so I sent off a wire to Sir Walter. + +After breakfast Scaife got from a house-agent a key for the gates of +the staircases on the Ruff. I walked with him along the sands, and sat +down in a nook of the cliffs while he investigated the half-dozen of +them. I didn't want to be seen, but the place at this hour was quite +deserted, and all the time I was on that beach I saw nothing but the +sea-gulls. + +It took him more than an hour to do the job, and when I saw him coming +towards me, conning a bit of paper, I can tell you my heart was in my +mouth. Everything depended, you see, on my guess proving right. + +He read aloud the number of steps in the different stairs. +'Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-nine, forty-two, forty-seven,' and +'twenty-one' where the cliffs grew lower. I almost got up and shouted. + +We hurried back to the town and sent a wire to MacGillivray. I wanted +half a dozen men, and I directed them to divide themselves among +different specified hotels. Then Scaife set out to prospect the house +at the head of the thirty-nine steps. + +He came back with news that both puzzled and reassured me. The house +was called Trafalgar Lodge, and belonged to an old gentleman called +Appleton--a retired stockbroker, the house-agent said. Mr Appleton was +there a good deal in the summer time, and was in residence now--had +been for the better part of a week. Scaife could pick up very little +information about him, except that he was a decent old fellow, who paid +his bills regularly, and was always good for a fiver for a local +charity. Then Scaife seemed to have penetrated to the back door of the +house, pretending he was an agent for sewing-machines. Only three +servants were kept, a cook, a parlour-maid, and a housemaid, and they +were just the sort that you would find in a respectable middle-class +household. The cook was not the gossiping kind, and had pretty soon +shut the door in his face, but Scaife said he was positive she knew +nothing. Next door there was a new house building which would give +good cover for observation, and the villa on the other side was to let, +and its garden was rough and shrubby. + +I borrowed Scaife's telescope, and before lunch went for a walk along +the Ruff. I kept well behind the rows of villas, and found a good +observation point on the edge of the golf-course. There I had a view +of the line of turf along the cliff top, with seats placed at +intervals, and the little square plots, railed in and planted with +bushes, whence the staircases descended to the beach. I saw Trafalgar +Lodge very plainly, a red-brick villa with a veranda, a tennis lawn +behind, and in front the ordinary seaside flower-garden full of +marguerites and scraggy geraniums. There was a flagstaff from which an +enormous Union Jack hung limply in the still air. + +Presently I observed someone leave the house and saunter along the +cliff. When I got my glasses on him I saw it was an old man, wearing +white flannel trousers, a blue serge jacket, and a straw hat. He +carried field-glasses and a newspaper, and sat down on one of the iron +seats and began to read. Sometimes he would lay down the paper and +turn his glasses on the sea. He looked for a long time at the +destroyer. I watched him for half an hour, till he got up and went +back to the house for his luncheon, when I returned to the hotel for +mine. + +I wasn't feeling very confident. This decent common-place dwelling was +not what I had expected. The man might be the bald archaeologist of +that horrible moorland farm, or he might not. He was exactly the kind +of satisfied old bird you will find in every suburb and every holiday +place. If you wanted a type of the perfectly harmless person you would +probably pitch on that. + +But after lunch, as I sat in the hotel porch, I perked up, for I saw +the thing I had hoped for and had dreaded to miss. A yacht came up +from the south and dropped anchor pretty well opposite the Ruff. She +seemed about a hundred and fifty tons, and I saw she belonged to the +Squadron from the white ensign. So Scaife and I went down to the +harbour and hired a boatman for an afternoon's fishing. + +I spent a warm and peaceful afternoon. We caught between us about +twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue sea I took +a cheerier view of things. Above the white cliffs of the Ruff I saw +the green and red of the villas, and especially the great flagstaff of +Trafalgar Lodge. About four o'clock, when we had fished enough, I made +the boatman row us round the yacht, which lay like a delicate white +bird, ready at a moment to flee. Scaife said she must be a fast boat +for her build, and that she was pretty heavily engined. + +Her name was the ARIADNE, as I discovered from the cap of one of the +men who was polishing brasswork. I spoke to him, and got an answer in +the soft dialect of Essex. Another hand that came along passed me the +time of day in an unmistakable English tongue. Our boatman had an +argument with one of them about the weather, and for a few minutes we +lay on our oars close to the starboard bow. + +Then the men suddenly disregarded us and bent their heads to their work +as an officer came along the deck. He was a pleasant, clean-looking +young fellow, and he put a question to us about our fishing in very +good English. But there could be no doubt about him. His +close-cropped head and the cut of his collar and tie never came out of +England. + +That did something to reassure me, but as we rowed back to Bradgate my +obstinate doubts would not be dismissed. The thing that worried me was +the reflection that my enemies knew that I had got my knowledge from +Scudder, and it was Scudder who had given me the clue to this place. +If they knew that Scudder had this clue, would they not be certain to +change their plans? Too much depended on their success for them to +take any risks. The whole question was how much they understood about +Scudder's knowledge. I had talked confidently last night about Germans +always sticking to a scheme, but if they had any suspicions that I was +on their track they would be fools not to cover it. I wondered if the +man last night had seen that I recognized him. Somehow I did not think +he had, and to that I had clung. But the whole business had never +seemed so difficult as that afternoon when by all calculations I should +have been rejoicing in assured success. + +In the hotel I met the commander of the destroyer, to whom Scaife +introduced me, and with whom I had a few words. Then I thought I would +put in an hour or two watching Trafalgar Lodge. + +I found a place farther up the hill, in the garden of an empty house. +From there I had a full view of the court, on which two figures were +having a game of tennis. One was the old man, whom I had already seen; +the other was a younger fellow, wearing some club colours in the scarf +round his middle. They played with tremendous zest, like two city +gents who wanted hard exercise to open their pores. You couldn't +conceive a more innocent spectacle. They shouted and laughed and +stopped for drinks, when a maid brought out two tankards on a salver. +I rubbed my eyes and asked myself if I was not the most immortal fool +on earth. Mystery and darkness had hung about the men who hunted me +over the Scotch moor in aeroplane and motor-car, and notably about that +infernal antiquarian. It was easy enough to connect those folk with +the knife that pinned Scudder to the floor, and with fell designs on +the world's peace. But here were two guileless citizens taking their +innocuous exercise, and soon about to go indoors to a humdrum dinner, +where they would talk of market prices and the last cricket scores and +the gossip of their native Surbiton. I had been making a net to catch +vultures and falcons, and lo and behold! two plump thrushes had +blundered into it. + +Presently a third figure arrived, a young man on a bicycle, with a bag +of golf-clubs slung on his back. He strolled round to the tennis lawn +and was welcomed riotously by the players. Evidently they were +chaffing him, and their chaff sounded horribly English. Then the plump +man, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, announced that he must +have a tub. I heard his very words--'I've got into a proper lather,' +he said. 'This will bring down my weight and my handicap, Bob. I'll +take you on tomorrow and give you a stroke a hole.' You couldn't find +anything much more English than that. + +They all went into the house, and left me feeling a precious idiot. I +had been barking up the wrong tree this time. These men might be +acting; but if they were, where was their audience? They didn't know I +was sitting thirty yards off in a rhododendron. It was simply +impossible to believe that these three hearty fellows were anything but +what they seemed--three ordinary, game-playing, suburban Englishmen, +wearisome, if you like, but sordidly innocent. + +And yet there were three of them; and one was old, and one was plump, +and one was lean and dark; and their house chimed in with Scudder's +notes; and half a mile off was lying a steam yacht with at least one +German officer. I thought of Karolides lying dead and all Europe +trembling on the edge of earthquake, and the men I had left behind me +in London who were waiting anxiously for the events of the next hours. +There was no doubt that hell was afoot somewhere. The Black Stone had +won, and if it survived this June night would bank its winnings. + +There seemed only one thing to do--go forward as if I had no doubts, +and if I was going to make a fool of myself to do it handsomely. Never +in my life have I faced a job with greater disinclination. I would +rather in my then mind have walked into a den of anarchists, each with +his Browning handy, or faced a charging lion with a popgun, than enter +that happy home of three cheerful Englishmen and tell them that their +game was up. How they would laugh at me! + +But suddenly I remembered a thing I once heard in Rhodesia from old +Peter Pienaar. I have quoted Peter already in this narrative. He was +the best scout I ever knew, and before he had turned respectable he had +been pretty often on the windy side of the law, when he had been wanted +badly by the authorities. Peter once discussed with me the question of +disguises, and he had a theory which struck me at the time. He said, +barring absolute certainties like fingerprints, mere physical traits +were very little use for identification if the fugitive really knew his +business. He laughed at things like dyed hair and false beards and +such childish follies. The only thing that mattered was what Peter +called 'atmosphere'. + +If a man could get into perfectly different surroundings from those in +which he had been first observed, and--this is the important +part--really play up to these surroundings and behave as if he had +never been out of them, he would puzzle the cleverest detectives on +earth. And he used to tell a story of how he once borrowed a black +coat and went to church and shared the same hymn-book with the man that +was looking for him. If that man had seen him in decent company before +he would have recognized him; but he had only seen him snuffing the +lights in a public-house with a revolver. + +The recollection of Peter's talk gave me the first real comfort that I +had had that day. Peter had been a wise old bird, and these fellows I +was after were about the pick of the aviary. What if they were playing +Peter's game? A fool tries to look different: a clever man looks the +same and is different. + +Again, there was that other maxim of Peter's which had helped me when I +had been a roadman. 'If you are playing a part, you will never keep it +up unless you convince yourself that you are it.' That would explain +the game of tennis. Those chaps didn't need to act, they just turned a +handle and passed into another life, which came as naturally to them as +the first. It sounds a platitude, but Peter used to say that it was +the big secret of all the famous criminals. + +It was now getting on for eight o'clock, and I went back and saw Scaife +to give him his instructions. I arranged with him how to place his +men, and then I went for a walk, for I didn't feel up to any dinner. I +went round the deserted golf-course, and then to a point on the cliffs +farther north beyond the line of the villas. + +On the little trim newly-made roads I met people in flannels coming +back from tennis and the beach, and a coastguard from the wireless +station, and donkeys and pierrots padding homewards. Out at sea in the +blue dusk I saw lights appear on the ARIADNE and on the destroyer away +to the south, and beyond the Cock sands the bigger lights of steamers +making for the Thames. The whole scene was so peaceful and ordinary +that I got more dashed in spirits every second. It took all my +resolution to stroll towards Trafalgar Lodge about half-past nine. + +On the way I got a piece of solid comfort from the sight of a greyhound +that was swinging along at a nursemaid's heels. He reminded me of a +dog I used to have in Rhodesia, and of the time when I took him hunting +with me in the Pali hills. We were after rhebok, the dun kind, and I +recollected how we had followed one beast, and both he and I had clean +lost it. A greyhound works by sight, and my eyes are good enough, but +that buck simply leaked out of the landscape. Afterwards I found out +how it managed it. Against the grey rock of the kopjes it showed no +more than a crow against a thundercloud. It didn't need to run away; +all it had to do was to stand still and melt into the background. + +Suddenly as these memories chased across my brain I thought of my +present case and applied the moral. The Black Stone didn't need to +bolt. They were quietly absorbed into the landscape. I was on the +right track, and I jammed that down in my mind and vowed never to +forget it. The last word was with Peter Pienaar. + +Scaife's men would be posted now, but there was no sign of a soul. The +house stood as open as a market-place for anybody to observe. A +three-foot railing separated it from the cliff road; the windows on the +ground-floor were all open, and shaded lights and the low sound of +voices revealed where the occupants were finishing dinner. Everything +was as public and above-board as a charity bazaar. Feeling the +greatest fool on earth, I opened the gate and rang the bell. + +A man of my sort, who has travelled about the world in rough places, +gets on perfectly well with two classes, what you may call the upper +and the lower. He understands them and they understand him. I was at +home with herds and tramps and roadmen, and I was sufficiently at my +ease with people like Sir Walter and the men I had met the night +before. I can't explain why, but it is a fact. But what fellows like +me don't understand is the great comfortable, satisfied middle-class +world, the folk that live in villas and suburbs. He doesn't know how +they look at things, he doesn't understand their conventions, and he is +as shy of them as of a black mamba. When a trim parlour-maid opened +the door, I could hardly find my voice. + +I asked for Mr Appleton, and was ushered in. My plan had been to walk +straight into the dining-room, and by a sudden appearance wake in the +men that start of recognition which would confirm my theory. But when +I found myself in that neat hall the place mastered me. There were the +golf-clubs and tennis-rackets, the straw hats and caps, the rows of +gloves, the sheaf of walking-sticks, which you will find in ten +thousand British homes. A stack of neatly folded coats and waterproofs +covered the top of an old oak chest; there was a grandfather clock +ticking; and some polished brass warming-pans on the walls, and a +barometer, and a print of Chiltern winning the St Leger. The place was +as orthodox as an Anglican church. When the maid asked me for my name +I gave it automatically, and was shown into the smoking-room, on the +right side of the hall. + +That room was even worse. I hadn't time to examine it, but I could see +some framed group photographs above the mantelpiece, and I could have +sworn they were English public school or college. I had only one +glance, for I managed to pull myself together and go after the maid. +But I was too late. She had already entered the dining-room and given +my name to her master, and I had missed the chance of seeing how the +three took it. + +When I walked into the room the old man at the head of the table had +risen and turned round to meet me. He was in evening dress--a short +coat and black tie, as was the other, whom I called in my own mind the +plump one. The third, the dark fellow, wore a blue serge suit and a +soft white collar, and the colours of some club or school. + +The old man's manner was perfect. 'Mr Hannay?' he said hesitatingly. +'Did you wish to see me? One moment, you fellows, and I'll rejoin you. +We had better go to the smoking-room.' + +Though I hadn't an ounce of confidence in me, I forced myself to play +the game. I pulled up a chair and sat down on it. + +'I think we have met before,' I said, 'and I guess you know my +business.' + +The light in the room was dim, but so far as I could see their faces, +they played the part of mystification very well. + +'Maybe, maybe,' said the old man. 'I haven't a very good memory, but +I'm afraid you must tell me your errand, Sir, for I really don't know +it.' + +'Well, then,' I said, and all the time I seemed to myself to be talking +pure foolishness--'I have come to tell you that the game's up. I have +a warrant for the arrest of you three gentlemen.' + +'Arrest,' said the old man, and he looked really shocked. 'Arrest! +Good God, what for?' + +'For the murder of Franklin Scudder in London on the 23rd day of last +month.' + +'I never heard the name before,' said the old man in a dazed voice. + +One of the others spoke up. 'That was the Portland Place murder. I +read about it. Good heavens, you must be mad, Sir! Where do you come +from?' + +'Scotland Yard,' I said. + +After that for a minute there was utter silence. The old man was +staring at his plate and fumbling with a nut, the very model of +innocent bewilderment. + +Then the plump one spoke up. He stammered a little, like a man picking +his words. + +'Don't get flustered, uncle,' he said. 'It is all a ridiculous +mistake; but these things happen sometimes, and we can easily set it +right. It won't be hard to prove our innocence. I can show that I was +out of the country on the 23rd of May, and Bob was in a nursing home. +You were in London, but you can explain what you were doing.' + +'Right, Percy! Of course that's easy enough. The 23rd! That was the +day after Agatha's wedding. Let me see. What was I doing? I came up +in the morning from Woking, and lunched at the club with Charlie +Symons. Then--oh yes, I dined with the Fishmongers. I remember, for +the punch didn't agree with me, and I was seedy next morning. Hang it +all, there's the cigar-box I brought back from the dinner.' He pointed +to an object on the table, and laughed nervously. + +'I think, Sir,' said the young man, addressing me respectfully, 'you +will see you are mistaken. We want to assist the law like all +Englishmen, and we don't want Scotland Yard to be making fools of +themselves. That's so, uncle?' + +'Certainly, Bob.' The old fellow seemed to be recovering his voice. +'Certainly, we'll do anything in our power to assist the authorities. +But--but this is a bit too much. I can't get over it.' + +'How Nellie will chuckle,' said the plump man. 'She always said that +you would die of boredom because nothing ever happened to you. And now +you've got it thick and strong,' and he began to laugh very pleasantly. + +'By Jove, yes. Just think of it! What a story to tell at the club. +Really, Mr Hannay, I suppose I should be angry, to show my innocence, +but it's too funny! I almost forgive you the fright you gave me! You +looked so glum, I thought I might have been walking in my sleep and +killing people.' + +It couldn't be acting, it was too confoundedly genuine. My heart went +into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and clear out. +But I told myself I must see it through, even though I was to be the +laughing-stock of Britain. The light from the dinner-table +candlesticks was not very good, and to cover my confusion I got up, +walked to the door and switched on the electric light. The sudden +glare made them blink, and I stood scanning the three faces. + +Well, I made nothing of it. One was old and bald, one was stout, one +was dark and thin. There was nothing in their appearance to prevent +them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but there was +nothing to identify them. I simply can't explain why I who, as a +roadman, had looked into two pairs of eyes, and as Ned Ainslie into +another pair, why I, who have a good memory and reasonable powers of +observation, could find no satisfaction. They seemed exactly what they +professed to be, and I could not have sworn to one of them. + +There in that pleasant dining-room, with etchings on the walls, and a +picture of an old lady in a bib above the mantelpiece, I could see +nothing to connect them with the moorland desperadoes. There was a +silver cigarette-box beside me, and I saw that it had been won by +Percival Appleton, Esq., of the St Bede's Club, in a golf tournament. +I had to keep a firm hold of Peter Pienaar to prevent myself bolting +out of that house. + +'Well,' said the old man politely, 'are you reassured by your scrutiny, +Sir?' + +I couldn't find a word. + +'I hope you'll find it consistent with your duty to drop this +ridiculous business. I make no complaint, but you'll see how annoying +it must be to respectable people.' + +I shook my head. + +'O Lord,' said the young man. 'This is a bit too thick!' + +'Do you propose to march us off to the police station?' asked the plump +one. 'That might be the best way out of it, but I suppose you won't be +content with the local branch. I have the right to ask to see your +warrant, but I don't wish to cast any aspersions upon you. You are +only doing your duty. But you'll admit it's horribly awkward. What do +you propose to do?' + +There was nothing to do except to call in my men and have them +arrested, or to confess my blunder and clear out. I felt mesmerized by +the whole place, by the air of obvious innocence--not innocence merely, +but frank honest bewilderment and concern in the three faces. + +'Oh, Peter Pienaar,' I groaned inwardly, and for a moment I was very +near damning myself for a fool and asking their pardon. + +'Meantime I vote we have a game of bridge,' said the plump one. 'It +will give Mr Hannay time to think over things, and you know we have +been wanting a fourth player. Do you play, Sir?' + +I accepted as if it had been an ordinary invitation at the club. The +whole business had mesmerized me. We went into the smoking-room where +a card-table was set out, and I was offered things to smoke and drink. +I took my place at the table in a kind of dream. The window was open +and the moon was flooding the cliffs and sea with a great tide of +yellow light. There was moonshine, too, in my head. The three had +recovered their composure, and were talking easily--just the kind of +slangy talk you will hear in any golf club-house. I must have cut a +rum figure, sitting there knitting my brows with my eyes wandering. + +My partner was the young dark one. I play a fair hand at bridge, but I +must have been rank bad that night. They saw that they had got me +puzzled, and that put them more than ever at their ease. I kept +looking at their faces, but they conveyed nothing to me. It was not +that they looked different; they were different. I clung desperately +to the words of Peter Pienaar. + +Then something awoke me. + +The old man laid down his hand to light a cigar. He didn't pick it up +at once, but sat back for a moment in his chair, with his fingers +tapping on his knees. + +It was the movement I remembered when I had stood before him in the +moorland farm, with the pistols of his servants behind me. + +A little thing, lasting only a second, and the odds were a thousand to +one that I might have had my eyes on my cards at the time and missed +it. But I didn't, and, in a flash, the air seemed to clear. Some +shadow lifted from my brain, and I was looking at the three men with +full and absolute recognition. + +The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o'clock. + +The three faces seemed to change before my eyes and reveal their +secrets. The young one was the murderer. Now I saw cruelty and +ruthlessness, where before I had only seen good-humour. His knife, I +made certain, had skewered Scudder to the floor. His kind had put the +bullet in Karolides. + +The plump man's features seemed to dislimn, and form again, as I looked +at them. He hadn't a face, only a hundred masks that he could assume +when he pleased. That chap must have been a superb actor. Perhaps he +had been Lord Alloa of the night before; perhaps not; it didn't matter. +I wondered if he was the fellow who had first tracked Scudder, and left +his card on him. Scudder had said he lisped, and I could imagine how +the adoption of a lisp might add terror. + +But the old man was the pick of the lot. He was sheer brain, icy, +cool, calculating, as ruthless as a steam hammer. Now that my eyes +were opened I wondered where I had seen the benevolence. His jaw was +like chilled steel, and his eyes had the inhuman luminosity of a +bird's. I went on playing, and every second a greater hate welled up +in my heart. It almost choked me, and I couldn't answer when my +partner spoke. Only a little longer could I endure their company. + +'Whew! Bob! Look at the time,' said the old man. 'You'd better think +about catching your train. Bob's got to go to town tonight,' he added, +turning to me. The voice rang now as false as hell. I looked at the +clock, and it was nearly half-past ten. + +'I am afraid he must put off his journey,' I said. + +'Oh, damn,' said the young man. 'I thought you had dropped that rot. +I've simply got to go. You can have my address, and I'll give any +security you like.' + +'No,' I said, 'you must stay.' + +At that I think they must have realized that the game was desperate. +Their only chance had been to convince me that I was playing the fool, +and that had failed. But the old man spoke again. + +'I'll go bail for my nephew. That ought to content you, Mr Hannay.' +Was it fancy, or did I detect some halt in the smoothness of that voice? + +There must have been, for as I glanced at him, his eyelids fell in that +hawk-like hood which fear had stamped on my memory. + +I blew my whistle. + +In an instant the lights were out. A pair of strong arms gripped me +round the waist, covering the pockets in which a man might be expected +to carry a pistol. + +'SCHNELL, FRANZ,' cried a voice, 'DAS BOOT, DAS BOOT!' As it spoke I +saw two of my fellows emerge on the moonlit lawn. + +The young dark man leapt for the window, was through it, and over the +low fence before a hand could touch him. I grappled the old chap, and +the room seemed to fill with figures. I saw the plump one collared, +but my eyes were all for the out-of-doors, where Franz sped on over the +road towards the railed entrance to the beach stairs. One man followed +him, but he had no chance. The gate of the stairs locked behind the +fugitive, and I stood staring, with my hands on the old boy's throat, +for such a time as a man might take to descend those steps to the sea. + +Suddenly my prisoner broke from me and flung himself on the wall. +There was a click as if a lever had been pulled. Then came a low +rumbling far, far below the ground, and through the window I saw a +cloud of chalky dust pouring out of the shaft of the stairway. + +Someone switched on the light. + +The old man was looking at me with blazing eyes. + +'He is safe,' he cried. 'You cannot follow in time ... He is gone ... +He has triumphed ... DER SCHWARZE STEIN IST IN DER SIEGESKRONE.' + +There was more in those eyes than any common triumph. They had been +hooded like a bird of prey, and now they flamed with a hawk's pride. A +white fanatic heat burned in them, and I realized for the first time +the terrible thing I had been up against. This man was more than a +spy; in his foul way he had been a patriot. + +As the handcuffs clinked on his wrists I said my last word to him. + +'I hope Franz will bear his triumph well. I ought to tell you that the +ARIADNE for the last hour has been in our hands.' + + +Three weeks later, as all the world knows, we went to war. I joined +the New Army the first week, and owing to my Matabele experience got a +captain's commission straight off. But I had done my best service, I +think, before I put on khaki. + + + + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirty-nine Steps, by John Buchan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + +***** This file should be named 558.txt or 558.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/558/ + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Thirty-nine Steps + +Author: John Buchan + +Posting Date: July 30, 2008 [EBook #558] +Release Date: June, 1996 +[Last updated: October 25, 2013] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + + + + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. + + + + + +</pre> + + +<BR><BR> + +<H1 ALIGN="center"> +THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS +</H1> + +<BR> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +by +</H3> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +JOHN BUCHAN +</H2> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +TO +<BR> +THOMAS ARTHUR NELSON +<BR> +(LOTHIAN AND BORDER HORSE) +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +My Dear Tommy, +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> +You and I have long cherished an affection for that elemental type of +tale which Americans call the 'dime novel' and which we know as the +'shocker'—the romance where the incidents defy the probabilities, and +march just inside the borders of the possible. During an illness last +winter I exhausted my store of those aids to cheerfulness, and was +driven to write one for myself. This little volume is the result, and +I should like to put your name on it in memory of our long friendship, +in the days when the wildest fictions are so much less improbable than +the facts. +<BR><BR> +J.B. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<H2 ALIGN="center"> +CONTENTS +</H2> + +<PRE> + 1. <A HREF="#chap01">The Man Who Died</A> + 2. <A HREF="#chap02">The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels</A> + 3. <A HREF="#chap03">The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper</A> + 4. <A HREF="#chap04">The Adventure of the Radical Candidate</A> + 5. <A HREF="#chap05">The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman</A> + 6. <A HREF="#chap06">The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist</A> + 7. <A HREF="#chap07">The Dry-Fly Fisherman</A> + 8. <A HREF="#chap08">The Coming of the Black Stone</A> + 9. <A HREF="#chap09">The Thirty-Nine Steps</A> + 10. <A HREF="#chap10">Various Parties Converging on the Sea</A> +</PRE> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap01"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER ONE +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Man Who Died +</H3> + +<P> +I returned from the City about three o'clock on that May afternoon +pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old +Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that +I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but +there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk of the +ordinary Englishman made me sick. I couldn't get enough exercise, and +the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda-water that has been +standing in the sun. 'Richard Hannay,' I kept telling myself, 'you +have got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and you had better climb out.' +</P> + +<P> +It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building up +those last years in Bulawayo. I had got my pile—not one of the big +ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds of ways +of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from Scotland at the +age of six, and I had never been home since; so England was a sort of +Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on stopping there for the rest of +my days. +</P> + +<P> +But from the first I was disappointed with it. In about a week I was +tired of seeing sights, and in less than a month I had had enough of +restaurants and theatres and race-meetings. I had no real pal to go +about with, which probably explains things. Plenty of people invited +me to their houses, but they didn't seem much interested in me. They +would fling me a question or two about South Africa, and then get on +their own affairs. A lot of Imperialist ladies asked me to tea to meet +schoolmasters from New Zealand and editors from Vancouver, and that was +the dismalest business of all. Here was I, thirty-seven years old, +sound in wind and limb, with enough money to have a good time, yawning +my head off all day. I had just about settled to clear out and get +back to the veld, for I was the best bored man in the United Kingdom. +</P> + +<P> +That afternoon I had been worrying my brokers about investments to give +my mind something to work on, and on my way home I turned into my +club—rather a pot-house, which took in Colonial members. I had a long +drink, and read the evening papers. They were full of the row in the +Near East, and there was an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier. +I rather fancied the chap. From all accounts he seemed the one big man +in the show; and he played a straight game too, which was more than +could be said for most of them. I gathered that they hated him pretty +blackly in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, +and one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and +Armageddon. I remember wondering if I could get a job in those parts. +It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might keep a man +from yawning. +</P> + +<P> +About six o'clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Cafe Royal, and +turned into a music-hall. It was a silly show, all capering women and +monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long. The night was fine and +clear as I walked back to the flat I had hired near Portland Place. +The crowd surged past me on the pavements, busy and chattering, and I +envied the people for having something to do. These shop-girls and +clerks and dandies and policemen had some interest in life that kept +them going. I gave half-a-crown to a beggar because I saw him yawn; he +was a fellow-sufferer. At Oxford Circus I looked up into the spring +sky and I made a vow. I would give the Old Country another day to fit +me into something; if nothing happened, I would take the next boat for +the Cape. +</P> + +<P> +My flat was the first floor in a new block behind Langham Place. There +was a common staircase, with a porter and a liftman at the entrance, +but there was no restaurant or anything of that sort, and each flat was +quite shut off from the others. I hate servants on the premises, so I +had a fellow to look after me who came in by the day. He arrived +before eight o'clock every morning and used to depart at seven, for I +never dined at home. +</P> + +<P> +I was just fitting my key into the door when I noticed a man at my +elbow. I had not seen him approach, and the sudden appearance made me +start. He was a slim man, with a short brown beard and small, gimlety +blue eyes. I recognized him as the occupant of a flat on the top +floor, with whom I had passed the time of day on the stairs. +</P> + +<P> +'Can I speak to you?' he said. 'May I come in for a minute?' He was +steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm. +</P> + +<P> +I got my door open and motioned him in. No sooner was he over the +threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I used to smoke +and write my letters. Then he bolted back. +</P> + +<P> +'Is the door locked?' he asked feverishly, and he fastened the chain +with his own hand. +</P> + +<P> +'I'm very sorry,' he said humbly. 'It's a mighty liberty, but you +looked the kind of man who would understand. I've had you in my mind +all this week when things got troublesome. Say, will you do me a good +turn?' +</P> + +<P> +'I'll listen to you,' I said. 'That's all I'll promise.' I was +getting worried by the antics of this nervous little chap. +</P> + +<P> +There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he filled +himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three gulps, and +cracked the glass as he set it down. +</P> + +<P> +'Pardon,' he said, 'I'm a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at +this moment to be dead.' +</P> + +<P> +I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe. +</P> + +<P> +'What does it feel like?' I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to +deal with a madman. +</P> + +<P> +A smile flickered over his drawn face. 'I'm not mad—yet. Say, Sir, +I've been watching you, and I reckon you're a cool customer. I reckon, +too, you're an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold hand. I'm +going to confide in you. I need help worse than any man ever needed +it, and I want to know if I can count you in.' +</P> + +<P> +'Get on with your yarn,' I said, 'and I'll tell you.' +</P> + +<P> +He seemed to brace himself for a great effort, and then started on the +queerest rigmarole. I didn't get hold of it at first, and I had to +stop and ask him questions. But here is the gist of it: +</P> + +<P> +He was an American, from Kentucky, and after college, being pretty well +off, he had started out to see the world. He wrote a bit, and acted as +war correspondent for a Chicago paper, and spent a year or two in +South-Eastern Europe. I gathered that he was a fine linguist, and had +got to know pretty well the society in those parts. He spoke +familiarly of many names that I remembered to have seen in the +newspapers. +</P> + +<P> +He had played about with politics, he told me, at first for the +interest of them, and then because he couldn't help himself. I read +him as a sharp, restless fellow, who always wanted to get down to the +roots of things. He got a little further down than he wanted. +</P> + +<P> +I am giving you what he told me as well as I could make it out. Away +behind all the Governments and the armies there was a big subterranean +movement going on, engineered by very dangerous people. He had come on +it by accident; it fascinated him; he went further, and then he got +caught. I gathered that most of the people in it were the sort of +educated anarchists that make revolutions, but that beside them there +were financiers who were playing for money. A clever man can make big +profits on a falling market, and it suited the book of both classes to +set Europe by the ears. +</P> + +<P> +He told me some queer things that explained a lot that had puzzled +me—things that happened in the Balkan War, how one state suddenly came +out on top, why alliances were made and broken, why certain men +disappeared, and where the sinews of war came from. The aim of the +whole conspiracy was to get Russia and Germany at loggerheads. +</P> + +<P> +When I asked why, he said that the anarchist lot thought it would give +them their chance. Everything would be in the melting-pot, and they +looked to see a new world emerge. The capitalists would rake in the +shekels, and make fortunes by buying up wreckage. Capital, he said, +had no conscience and no fatherland. Besides, the Jew was behind it, +and the Jew hated Russia worse than hell. +</P> + +<P> +'Do you wonder?' he cried. 'For three hundred years they have been +persecuted, and this is the return match for the pogroms. The Jew is +everywhere, but you have to go far down the backstairs to find him. +Take any big Teutonic business concern. If you have dealings with it +the first man you meet is Prince von und Zu Something, an elegant young +man who talks Eton-and-Harrow English. But he cuts no ice. If your +business is big, you get behind him and find a prognathous Westphalian +with a retreating brow and the manners of a hog. He is the German +business man that gives your English papers the shakes. But if you're +on the biggest kind of job and are bound to get to the real boss, ten +to one you are brought up against a little white-faced Jew in a +bath-chair with an eye like a rattlesnake. Yes, Sir, he is the man who +is ruling the world just now, and he has his knife in the Empire of the +Tzar, because his aunt was outraged and his father flogged in some +one-horse location on the Volga.' +</P> + +<P> +I could not help saying that his Jew-anarchists seemed to have got left +behind a little. +</P> + +<P> +'Yes and no,' he said. 'They won up to a point, but they struck a +bigger thing than money, a thing that couldn't be bought, the old +elemental fighting instincts of man. If you're going to be killed you +invent some kind of flag and country to fight for, and if you survive +you get to love the thing. Those foolish devils of soldiers have found +something they care for, and that has upset the pretty plan laid in +Berlin and Vienna. But my friends haven't played their last card by a +long sight. They've gotten the ace up their sleeves, and unless I can +keep alive for a month they are going to play it and win.' +</P> + +<P> +'But I thought you were dead,' I put in. +</P> + +<P> +'MORS JANUA VITAE,' he smiled. (I recognized the quotation: it was +about all the Latin I knew.) 'I'm coming to that, but I've got to put +you wise about a lot of things first. If you read your newspaper, I +guess you know the name of Constantine Karolides?' +</P> + +<P> +I sat up at that, for I had been reading about him that very afternoon. +</P> + +<P> +'He is the man that has wrecked all their games. He is the one big +brain in the whole show, and he happens also to be an honest man. +Therefore he has been marked down these twelve months past. I found +that out—not that it was difficult, for any fool could guess as much. +But I found out the way they were going to get him, and that knowledge +was deadly. That's why I have had to decease.' +</P> + +<P> +He had another drink, and I mixed it for him myself, for I was getting +interested in the beggar. +</P> + +<P> +'They can't get him in his own land, for he has a bodyguard of Epirotes +that would skin their grandmothers. But on the 15th day of June he is +coming to this city. The British Foreign Office has taken to having +International tea-parties, and the biggest of them is due on that date. +Now Karolides is reckoned the principal guest, and if my friends have +their way he will never return to his admiring countrymen.' +</P> + +<P> +'That's simple enough, anyhow,' I said. 'You can warn him and keep him +at home.' +</P> + +<P> +'And play their game?' he asked sharply. 'If he does not come they +win, for he's the only man that can straighten out the tangle. And if +his Government are warned he won't come, for he does not know how big +the stakes will be on June the 15th.' +</P> + +<P> +'What about the British Government?' I said. 'They're not going to let +their guests be murdered. Tip them the wink, and they'll take extra +precautions.' +</P> + +<P> +'No good. They might stuff your city with plain-clothes detectives and +double the police and Constantine would still be a doomed man. My +friends are not playing this game for candy. They want a big occasion +for the taking off, with the eyes of all Europe on it. He'll be +murdered by an Austrian, and there'll be plenty of evidence to show the +connivance of the big folk in Vienna and Berlin. It will all be an +infernal lie, of course, but the case will look black enough to the +world. I'm not talking hot air, my friend. I happen to know every +detail of the hellish contrivance, and I can tell you it will be the +most finished piece of blackguardism since the Borgias. But it's not +going to come off if there's a certain man who knows the wheels of the +business alive right here in London on the 15th day of June. And that +man is going to be your servant, Franklin P. Scudder.' +</P> + +<P> +I was getting to like the little chap. His jaw had shut like a +rat-trap, and there was the fire of battle in his gimlety eyes. If he +was spinning me a yarn he could act up to it. +</P> + +<P> +'Where did you find out this story?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'I got the first hint in an inn on the Achensee in Tyrol. That set me +inquiring, and I collected my other clues in a fur-shop in the Galician +quarter of Buda, in a Strangers' Club in Vienna, and in a little +bookshop off the Racknitzstrasse in Leipsic. I completed my evidence +ten days ago in Paris. I can't tell you the details now, for it's +something of a history. When I was quite sure in my own mind I judged +it my business to disappear, and I reached this city by a mighty queer +circuit. I left Paris a dandified young French-American, and I sailed +from Hamburg a Jew diamond merchant. In Norway I was an English +student of Ibsen collecting materials for lectures, but when I left +Bergen I was a cinema-man with special ski films. And I came here from +Leith with a lot of pulp-wood propositions in my pocket to put before +the London newspapers. Till yesterday I thought I had muddied my trail +some, and was feeling pretty happy. Then ...' +</P> + +<P> +The recollection seemed to upset him, and he gulped down some more +whisky. +</P> + +<P> +'Then I saw a man standing in the street outside this block. I used to +stay close in my room all day, and only slip out after dark for an hour +or two. I watched him for a bit from my window, and I thought I +recognized him ... He came in and spoke to the porter ... When I came +back from my walk last night I found a card in my letter-box. It bore +the name of the man I want least to meet on God's earth.' +</P> + +<P> +I think that the look in my companion's eyes, the sheer naked scare on +his face, completed my conviction of his honesty. My own voice +sharpened a bit as I asked him what he did next. +</P> + +<P> +'I realized that I was bottled as sure as a pickled herring, and that +there was only one way out. I had to die. If my pursuers knew I was +dead they would go to sleep again.' +</P> + +<P> +'How did you manage it?' +</P> + +<P> +'I told the man that valets me that I was feeling pretty bad, and I got +myself up to look like death. That wasn't difficult, for I'm no slouch +at disguises. Then I got a corpse—you can always get a body in London +if you know where to go for it. I fetched it back in a trunk on the +top of a four-wheeler, and I had to be assisted upstairs to my room. +You see I had to pile up some evidence for the inquest. I went to bed +and got my man to mix me a sleeping-draught, and then told him to clear +out. He wanted to fetch a doctor, but I swore some and said I couldn't +abide leeches. When I was left alone I started in to fake up that +corpse. He was my size, and I judged had perished from too much +alcohol, so I put some spirits handy about the place. The jaw was the +weak point in the likeness, so I blew it away with a revolver. I +daresay there will be somebody tomorrow to swear to having heard a +shot, but there are no neighbours on my floor, and I guessed I could +risk it. So I left the body in bed dressed up in my pyjamas, with a +revolver lying on the bed-clothes and a considerable mess around. Then +I got into a suit of clothes I had kept waiting for emergencies. I +didn't dare to shave for fear of leaving tracks, and besides, it wasn't +any kind of use my trying to get into the streets. I had had you in my +mind all day, and there seemed nothing to do but to make an appeal to +you. I watched from my window till I saw you come home, and then +slipped down the stair to meet you ... There, Sir, I guess you know +about as much as me of this business.' +</P> + +<P> +He sat blinking like an owl, fluttering with nerves and yet desperately +determined. By this time I was pretty well convinced that he was going +straight with me. It was the wildest sort of narrative, but I had +heard in my time many steep tales which had turned out to be true, and +I had made a practice of judging the man rather than the story. If he +had wanted to get a location in my flat, and then cut my throat, he +would have pitched a milder yarn. +</P> + +<P> +'Hand me your key,' I said, 'and I'll take a look at the corpse. +Excuse my caution, but I'm bound to verify a bit if I can.' +</P> + +<P> +He shook his head mournfully. 'I reckoned you'd ask for that, but I +haven't got it. It's on my chain on the dressing-table. I had to +leave it behind, for I couldn't leave any clues to breed suspicions. +The gentry who are after me are pretty bright-eyed citizens. You'll +have to take me on trust for the night, and tomorrow you'll get proof +of the corpse business right enough.' +</P> + +<P> +I thought for an instant or two. 'Right. I'll trust you for the +night. I'll lock you into this room and keep the key. Just one word, +Mr Scudder. I believe you're straight, but if so be you are not I +should warn you that I'm a handy man with a gun.' +</P> + +<P> +'Sure,' he said, jumping up with some briskness. 'I haven't the +privilege of your name, Sir, but let me tell you that you're a white +man. I'll thank you to lend me a razor.' +</P> + +<P> +I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose. In half an hour's +time a figure came out that I scarcely recognized. Only his gimlety, +hungry eyes were the same. He was shaved clean, his hair was parted in +the middle, and he had cut his eyebrows. Further, he carried himself +as if he had been drilled, and was the very model, even to the brown +complexion, of some British officer who had had a long spell in India. +He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in his eye, and every trace of +the American had gone out of his speech. +</P> + +<P> +'My hat! Mr Scudder—' I stammered. +</P> + +<P> +'Not Mr Scudder,' he corrected; 'Captain Theophilus Digby, of the 40th +Gurkhas, presently home on leave. I'll thank you to remember that, +Sir.' +</P> + +<P> +I made him up a bed in my smoking-room and sought my own couch, more +cheerful than I had been for the past month. Things did happen +occasionally, even in this God-forgotten metropolis. +</P> + +<P> +I woke next morning to hear my man, Paddock, making the deuce of a row +at the smoking-room door. Paddock was a fellow I had done a good turn +to out on the Selakwe, and I had inspanned him as my servant as soon as +I got to England. He had about as much gift of the gab as a +hippopotamus, and was not a great hand at valeting, but I knew I could +count on his loyalty. +</P> + +<P> +'Stop that row, Paddock,' I said. 'There's a friend of mine, +Captain—Captain' (I couldn't remember the name) 'dossing down in +there. Get breakfast for two and then come and speak to me.' +</P> + +<P> +I told Paddock a fine story about how my friend was a great swell, with +his nerves pretty bad from overwork, who wanted absolute rest and +stillness. Nobody had got to know he was here, or he would be besieged +by communications from the India Office and the Prime Minister and his +cure would be ruined. I am bound to say Scudder played up splendidly +when he came to breakfast. He fixed Paddock with his eyeglass, just +like a British officer, asked him about the Boer War, and slung out at +me a lot of stuff about imaginary pals. Paddock couldn't learn to call +me 'Sir', but he 'sirred' Scudder as if his life depended on it. +</P> + +<P> +I left him with the newspaper and a box of cigars, and went down to the +City till luncheon. When I got back the lift-man had an important face. +</P> + +<P> +'Nawsty business 'ere this morning, Sir. Gent in No. 15 been and shot +'isself. They've just took 'im to the mortiary. The police are up +there now.' +</P> + +<P> +I ascended to No. 15, and found a couple of bobbies and an inspector +busy making an examination. I asked a few idiotic questions, and they +soon kicked me out. Then I found the man that had valeted Scudder, and +pumped him, but I could see he suspected nothing. He was a whining +fellow with a churchyard face, and half-a-crown went far to console him. +</P> + +<P> +I attended the inquest next day. A partner of some publishing firm +gave evidence that the deceased had brought him wood-pulp propositions, +and had been, he believed, an agent of an American business. The jury +found it a case of suicide while of unsound mind, and the few effects +were handed over to the American Consul to deal with. I gave Scudder a +full account of the affair, and it interested him greatly. He said he +wished he could have attended the inquest, for he reckoned it would be +about as spicy as to read one's own obituary notice. +</P> + +<P> +The first two days he stayed with me in that back room he was very +peaceful. He read and smoked a bit, and made a heap of jottings in a +note-book, and every night we had a game of chess, at which he beat me +hollow. I think he was nursing his nerves back to health, for he had +had a pretty trying time. But on the third day I could see he was +beginning to get restless. He fixed up a list of the days till June +15th, and ticked each off with a red pencil, making remarks in +shorthand against them. I would find him sunk in a brown study, with +his sharp eyes abstracted, and after those spells of meditation he was +apt to be very despondent. +</P> + +<P> +Then I could see that he began to get edgy again. He listened for +little noises, and was always asking me if Paddock could be trusted. +Once or twice he got very peevish, and apologized for it. I didn't +blame him. I made every allowance, for he had taken on a fairly stiff +job. +</P> + +<P> +It was not the safety of his own skin that troubled him, but the +success of the scheme he had planned. That little man was clean grit +all through, without a soft spot in him. One night he was very solemn. +</P> + +<P> +'Say, Hannay,' he said, 'I judge I should let you a bit deeper into +this business. I should hate to go out without leaving somebody else +to put up a fight.' And he began to tell me in detail what I had only +heard from him vaguely. +</P> + +<P> +I did not give him very close attention. The fact is, I was more +interested in his own adventures than in his high politics. I reckoned +that Karolides and his affairs were not my business, leaving all that +to him. So a lot that he said slipped clean out of my memory. I +remember that he was very clear that the danger to Karolides would not +begin till he had got to London, and would come from the very highest +quarters, where there would be no thought of suspicion. He mentioned +the name of a woman—Julia Czechenyi—as having something to do with +the danger. She would be the decoy, I gathered, to get Karolides out +of the care of his guards. He talked, too, about a Black Stone and a +man that lisped in his speech, and he described very particularly +somebody that he never referred to without a shudder—an old man with a +young voice who could hood his eyes like a hawk. +</P> + +<P> +He spoke a good deal about death, too. He was mortally anxious about +winning through with his job, but he didn't care a rush for his life. +</P> + +<P> +'I reckon it's like going to sleep when you are pretty well tired out, +and waking to find a summer day with the scent of hay coming in at the +window. I used to thank God for such mornings way back in the +Blue-Grass country, and I guess I'll thank Him when I wake up on the +other side of Jordan.' +</P> + +<P> +Next day he was much more cheerful, and read the life of Stonewall +Jackson much of the time. I went out to dinner with a mining engineer +I had got to see on business, and came back about half-past ten in time +for our game of chess before turning in. +</P> + +<P> +I had a cigar in my mouth, I remember, as I pushed open the +smoking-room door. The lights were not lit, which struck me as odd. I +wondered if Scudder had turned in already. +</P> + +<P> +I snapped the switch, but there was nobody there. Then I saw something +in the far corner which made me drop my cigar and fall into a cold +sweat. +</P> + +<P> +My guest was lying sprawled on his back. There was a long knife +through his heart which skewered him to the floor. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap02"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER TWO +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels +</H3> + +<P> +I sat down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for maybe +five minutes, and was succeeded by a fit of the horrors. The poor +staring white face on the floor was more than I could bear, and I +managed to get a table-cloth and cover it. Then I staggered to a +cupboard, found the brandy and swallowed several mouthfuls. I had seen +men die violently before; indeed I had killed a few myself in the +Matabele War; but this cold-blooded indoor business was different. +Still I managed to pull myself together. I looked at my watch, and saw +that it was half-past ten. +</P> + +<P> +An idea seized me, and I went over the flat with a small-tooth comb. +There was nobody there, nor any trace of anybody, but I shuttered and +bolted all the windows and put the chain on the door. By this time my +wits were coming back to me, and I could think again. It took me about +an hour to figure the thing out, and I did not hurry, for, unless the +murderer came back, I had till about six o'clock in the morning for my +cogitations. +</P> + +<P> +I was in the soup—that was pretty clear. Any shadow of a doubt I +might have had about the truth of Scudder's tale was now gone. The +proof of it was lying under the table-cloth. The men who knew that he +knew what he knew had found him, and had taken the best way to make +certain of his silence. Yes; but he had been in my rooms four days, +and his enemies must have reckoned that he had confided in me. So I +would be the next to go. It might be that very night, or next day, or +the day after, but my number was up all right. +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly I thought of another probability. Supposing I went out +now and called in the police, or went to bed and let Paddock find the +body and call them in the morning. What kind of a story was I to tell +about Scudder? I had lied to Paddock about him, and the whole thing +looked desperately fishy. If I made a clean breast of it and told the +police everything he had told me, they would simply laugh at me. The +odds were a thousand to one that I would be charged with the murder, +and the circumstantial evidence was strong enough to hang me. Few +people knew me in England; I had no real pal who could come forward and +swear to my character. Perhaps that was what those secret enemies were +playing for. They were clever enough for anything, and an English +prison was as good a way of getting rid of me till after June 15th as a +knife in my chest. +</P> + +<P> +Besides, if I told the whole story, and by any miracle was believed, I +would be playing their game. Karolides would stay at home, which was +what they wanted. Somehow or other the sight of Scudder's dead face +had made me a passionate believer in his scheme. He was gone, but he +had taken me into his confidence, and I was pretty well bound to carry +on his work. +</P> + +<P> +You may think this ridiculous for a man in danger of his life, but that +was the way I looked at it. I am an ordinary sort of fellow, not +braver than other people, but I hate to see a good man downed, and that +long knife would not be the end of Scudder if I could play the game in +his place. +</P> + +<P> +It took me an hour or two to think this out, and by that time I had +come to a decision. I must vanish somehow, and keep vanished till the +end of the second week in June. Then I must somehow find a way to get +in touch with the Government people and tell them what Scudder had told +me. I wished to Heaven he had told me more, and that I had listened +more carefully to the little he had told me. I knew nothing but the +barest facts. There was a big risk that, even if I weathered the other +dangers, I would not be believed in the end. I must take my chance of +that, and hope that something might happen which would confirm my tale +in the eyes of the Government. +</P> + +<P> +My first job was to keep going for the next three weeks. It was now +the 24th day of May, and that meant twenty days of hiding before I +could venture to approach the powers that be. I reckoned that two sets +of people would be looking for me—Scudder's enemies to put me out of +existence, and the police, who would want me for Scudder's murder. It +was going to be a giddy hunt, and it was queer how the prospect +comforted me. I had been slack so long that almost any chance of +activity was welcome. When I had to sit alone with that corpse and +wait on Fortune I was no better than a crushed worm, but if my neck's +safety was to hang on my own wits I was prepared to be cheerful about +it. +</P> + +<P> +My next thought was whether Scudder had any papers about him to give me +a better clue to the business. I drew back the table-cloth and +searched his pockets, for I had no longer any shrinking from the body. +The face was wonderfully calm for a man who had been struck down in a +moment. There was nothing in the breast-pocket, and only a few loose +coins and a cigar-holder in the waistcoat. The trousers held a little +penknife and some silver, and the side pocket of his jacket contained +an old crocodile-skin cigar-case. There was no sign of the little +black book in which I had seen him making notes. That had no doubt +been taken by his murderer. +</P> + +<P> +But as I looked up from my task I saw that some drawers had been pulled +out in the writing-table. Scudder would never have left them in that +state, for he was the tidiest of mortals. Someone must have been +searching for something—perhaps for the pocket-book. +</P> + +<P> +I went round the flat and found that everything had been ransacked—the +inside of books, drawers, cupboards, boxes, even the pockets of the +clothes in my wardrobe, and the sideboard in the dining-room. There +was no trace of the book. Most likely the enemy had found it, but they +had not found it on Scudder's body. +</P> + +<P> +Then I got out an atlas and looked at a big map of the British Isles. +My notion was to get off to some wild district, where my veldcraft +would be of some use to me, for I would be like a trapped rat in a +city. I considered that Scotland would be best, for my people were +Scotch and I could pass anywhere as an ordinary Scotsman. I had half +an idea at first to be a German tourist, for my father had had German +partners, and I had been brought up to speak the tongue pretty +fluently, not to mention having put in three years prospecting for +copper in German Damaraland. But I calculated that it would be less +conspicuous to be a Scot, and less in a line with what the police might +know of my past. I fixed on Galloway as the best place to go. It was +the nearest wild part of Scotland, so far as I could figure it out, and +from the look of the map was not over thick with population. +</P> + +<P> +A search in Bradshaw informed me that a train left St Pancras at 7.10, +which would land me at any Galloway station in the late afternoon. +That was well enough, but a more important matter was how I was to make +my way to St Pancras, for I was pretty certain that Scudder's friends +would be watching outside. This puzzled me for a bit; then I had an +inspiration, on which I went to bed and slept for two troubled hours. +</P> + +<P> +I got up at four and opened my bedroom shutters. The faint light of a +fine summer morning was flooding the skies, and the sparrows had begun +to chatter. I had a great revulsion of feeling, and felt a +God-forgotten fool. My inclination was to let things slide, and trust +to the British police taking a reasonable view of my case. But as I +reviewed the situation I could find no arguments to bring against my +decision of the previous night, so with a wry mouth I resolved to go on +with my plan. I was not feeling in any particular funk; only +disinclined to go looking for trouble, if you understand me. +</P> + +<P> +I hunted out a well-used tweed suit, a pair of strong nailed boots, and +a flannel shirt with a collar. Into my pockets I stuffed a spare +shirt, a cloth cap, some handkerchiefs, and a tooth-brush. I had drawn +a good sum in gold from the bank two days before, in case Scudder +should want money, and I took fifty pounds of it in sovereigns in a +belt which I had brought back from Rhodesia. That was about all I +wanted. Then I had a bath, and cut my moustache, which was long and +drooping, into a short stubbly fringe. +</P> + +<P> +Now came the next step. Paddock used to arrive punctually at 7.30 and +let himself in with a latch-key. But about twenty minutes to seven, as +I knew from bitter experience, the milkman turned up with a great +clatter of cans, and deposited my share outside my door. I had seen +that milkman sometimes when I had gone out for an early ride. He was a +young man about my own height, with an ill-nourished moustache, and he +wore a white overall. On him I staked all my chances. +</P> + +<P> +I went into the darkened smoking-room where the rays of morning light +were beginning to creep through the shutters. There I breakfasted off +a whisky-and-soda and some biscuits from the cupboard. By this time it +was getting on for six o'clock. I put a pipe in my pocket and filled +my pouch from the tobacco jar on the table by the fireplace. +</P> + +<P> +As I poked into the tobacco my fingers touched something hard, and I +drew out Scudder's little black pocket-book ... +</P> + +<P> +That seemed to me a good omen. I lifted the cloth from the body and +was amazed at the peace and dignity of the dead face. 'Goodbye, old +chap,' I said; 'I am going to do my best for you. Wish me well, +wherever you are.' +</P> + +<P> +Then I hung about in the hall waiting for the milkman. That was the +worst part of the business, for I was fairly choking to get out of +doors. Six-thirty passed, then six-forty, but still he did not come. +The fool had chosen this day of all days to be late. +</P> + +<P> +At one minute after the quarter to seven I heard the rattle of the cans +outside. I opened the front door, and there was my man, singling out +my cans from a bunch he carried and whistling through his teeth. He +jumped a bit at the sight of me. +</P> + +<P> +'Come in here a moment,' I said. 'I want a word with you.' And I led +him into the dining-room. +</P> + +<P> +'I reckon you're a bit of a sportsman,' I said, 'and I want you to do +me a service. Lend me your cap and overall for ten minutes, and here's +a sovereign for you.' +</P> + +<P> +His eyes opened at the sight of the gold, and he grinned broadly. +'Wot's the gyme?'he asked. +</P> + +<P> +'A bet,' I said. 'I haven't time to explain, but to win it I've got to +be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you've got to do is to stay +here till I come back. You'll be a bit late, but nobody will complain, +and you'll have that quid for yourself.' +</P> + +<P> +'Right-o!' he said cheerily. 'I ain't the man to spoil a bit of sport. +'Ere's the rig, guv'nor.' +</P> + +<P> +I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the cans, +banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter at the foot +told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up was adequate. +</P> + +<P> +At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught sight +of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling past on the +other side. Some impulse made me raise my eyes to the house opposite, +and there at a first-floor window was a face. As the loafer passed he +looked up, and I fancied a signal was exchanged. +</P> + +<P> +I crossed the street, whistling gaily and imitating the jaunty swing of +the milkman. Then I took the first side street, and went up a +left-hand turning which led past a bit of vacant ground. There was no +one in the little street, so I dropped the milk-cans inside the +hoarding and sent the cap and overall after them. I had only just put +on my cloth cap when a postman came round the corner. I gave him good +morning and he answered me unsuspiciously. At the moment the clock of +a neighbouring church struck the hour of seven. +</P> + +<P> +There was not a second to spare. As soon as I got to Euston Road I +took to my heels and ran. The clock at Euston Station showed five +minutes past the hour. At St Pancras I had no time to take a ticket, +let alone that I had not settled upon my destination. A porter told me +the platform, and as I entered it I saw the train already in motion. +Two station officials blocked the way, but I dodged them and clambered +into the last carriage. +</P> + +<P> +Three minutes later, as we were roaring through the northern tunnels, +an irate guard interviewed me. He wrote out for me a ticket to +Newton-Stewart, a name which had suddenly come back to my memory, and +he conducted me from the first-class compartment where I had ensconced +myself to a third-class smoker, occupied by a sailor and a stout woman +with a child. He went off grumbling, and as I mopped my brow I +observed to my companions in my broadest Scots that it was a sore job +catching trains. I had already entered upon my part. +</P> + +<P> +'The impidence o' that gyaird!' said the lady bitterly. 'He needit a +Scotch tongue to pit him in his place. He was complainin' o' this wean +no haein' a ticket and her no fower till August twalmonth, and he was +objectin' to this gentleman spittin'.' +</P> + +<P> +The sailor morosely agreed, and I started my new life in an atmosphere +of protest against authority. I reminded myself that a week ago I had +been finding the world dull. +</P> +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap03"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER THREE +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper +</H3> + +<P> +I had a solemn time travelling north that day. It was fine May +weather, with the hawthorn flowering on every hedge, and I asked myself +why, when I was still a free man, I had stayed on in London and not got +the good of this heavenly country. I didn't dare face the restaurant +car, but I got a luncheon-basket at Leeds and shared it with the fat +woman. Also I got the morning's papers, with news about starters for +the Derby and the beginning of the cricket season, and some paragraphs +about how Balkan affairs were settling down and a British squadron was +going to Kiel. +</P> + +<P> +When I had done with them I got out Scudder's little black pocket-book +and studied it. It was pretty well filled with jottings, chiefly +figures, though now and then a name was printed in. For example, I +found the words 'Hofgaard', 'Luneville', and 'Avocado' pretty often, +and especially the word 'Pavia'. +</P> + +<P> +Now I was certain that Scudder never did anything without a reason, and +I was pretty sure that there was a cypher in all this. That is a +subject which has always interested me, and I did a bit at it myself +once as intelligence officer at Delagoa Bay during the Boer War. I +have a head for things like chess and puzzles, and I used to reckon +myself pretty good at finding out cyphers. This one looked like the +numerical kind where sets of figures correspond to the letters of the +alphabet, but any fairly shrewd man can find the clue to that sort +after an hour or two's work, and I didn't think Scudder would have been +content with anything so easy. So I fastened on the printed words, for +you can make a pretty good numerical cypher if you have a key word +which gives you the sequence of the letters. +</P> + +<P> +I tried for hours, but none of the words answered. Then I fell asleep +and woke at Dumfries just in time to bundle out and get into the slow +Galloway train. There was a man on the platform whose looks I didn't +like, but he never glanced at me, and when I caught sight of myself in +the mirror of an automatic machine I didn't wonder. With my brown +face, my old tweeds, and my slouch, I was the very model of one of the +hill farmers who were crowding into the third-class carriages. +</P> + +<P> +I travelled with half a dozen in an atmosphere of shag and clay pipes. +They had come from the weekly market, and their mouths were full of +prices. I heard accounts of how the lambing had gone up the Cairn and +the Deuch and a dozen other mysterious waters. Above half the men had +lunched heavily and were highly flavoured with whisky, but they took no +notice of me. We rumbled slowly into a land of little wooded glens and +then to a great wide moorland place, gleaming with lochs, with high +blue hills showing northwards. +</P> + +<P> +About five o'clock the carriage had emptied, and I was left alone as I +had hoped. I got out at the next station, a little place whose name I +scarcely noted, set right in the heart of a bog. It reminded me of one +of those forgotten little stations in the Karroo. An old +station-master was digging in his garden, and with his spade over his +shoulder sauntered to the train, took charge of a parcel, and went back +to his potatoes. A child of ten received my ticket, and I emerged on a +white road that straggled over the brown moor. +</P> + +<P> +It was a gorgeous spring evening, with every hill showing as clear as a +cut amethyst. The air had the queer, rooty smell of bogs, but it was +as fresh as mid-ocean, and it had the strangest effect on my spirits. +I actually felt light-hearted. I might have been a boy out for a +spring holiday tramp, instead of a man of thirty-seven very much wanted +by the police. I felt just as I used to feel when I was starting for a +big trek on a frosty morning on the high veld. If you believe me, I +swung along that road whistling. There was no plan of campaign in my +head, only just to go on and on in this blessed, honest-smelling hill +country, for every mile put me in better humour with myself. +</P> + +<P> +In a roadside planting I cut a walking-stick of hazel, and presently +struck off the highway up a bypath which followed the glen of a +brawling stream. I reckoned that I was still far ahead of any pursuit, +and for that night might please myself. It was some hours since I had +tasted food, and I was getting very hungry when I came to a herd's +cottage set in a nook beside a waterfall. A brown-faced woman was +standing by the door, and greeted me with the kindly shyness of +moorland places. When I asked for a night's lodging she said I was +welcome to the 'bed in the loft', and very soon she set before me a +hearty meal of ham and eggs, scones, and thick sweet milk. +</P> + +<P> +At the darkening her man came in from the hills, a lean giant, who in +one step covered as much ground as three paces of ordinary mortals. +They asked me no questions, for they had the perfect breeding of all +dwellers in the wilds, but I could see they set me down as a kind of +dealer, and I took some trouble to confirm their view. I spoke a lot +about cattle, of which my host knew little, and I picked up from him a +good deal about the local Galloway markets, which I tucked away in my +memory for future use. At ten I was nodding in my chair, and the 'bed +in the loft' received a weary man who never opened his eyes till five +o'clock set the little homestead a-going once more. +</P> + +<P> +They refused any payment, and by six I had breakfasted and was striding +southwards again. My notion was to return to the railway line a +station or two farther on than the place where I had alighted yesterday +and to double back. I reckoned that that was the safest way, for the +police would naturally assume that I was always making farther from +London in the direction of some western port. I thought I had still a +good bit of a start, for, as I reasoned, it would take some hours to +fix the blame on me, and several more to identify the fellow who got on +board the train at St Pancras. +</P> + +<P> +It was the same jolly, clear spring weather, and I simply could not +contrive to feel careworn. Indeed I was in better spirits than I had +been for months. Over a long ridge of moorland I took my road, +skirting the side of a high hill which the herd had called Cairnsmore +of Fleet. Nesting curlews and plovers were crying everywhere, and the +links of green pasture by the streams were dotted with young lambs. +All the slackness of the past months was slipping from my bones, and I +stepped out like a four-year-old. By-and-by I came to a swell of +moorland which dipped to the vale of a little river, and a mile away in +the heather I saw the smoke of a train. +</P> + +<P> +The station, when I reached it, proved to be ideal for my purpose. The +moor surged up around it and left room only for the single line, the +slender siding, a waiting-room, an office, the station-master's +cottage, and a tiny yard of gooseberries and sweet-william. There +seemed no road to it from anywhere, and to increase the desolation the +waves of a tarn lapped on their grey granite beach half a mile away. I +waited in the deep heather till I saw the smoke of an east-going train +on the horizon. Then I approached the tiny booking-office and took a +ticket for Dumfries. +</P> + +<P> +The only occupants of the carriage were an old shepherd and his dog—a +wall-eyed brute that I mistrusted. The man was asleep, and on the +cushions beside him was that morning's <i>Scotsman</i>. Eagerly I seized on +it, for I fancied it would tell me something. +</P> + +<P> +There were two columns about the Portland Place Murder, as it was +called. My man Paddock had given the alarm and had the milkman +arrested. Poor devil, it looked as if the latter had earned his +sovereign hardly; but for me he had been cheap at the price, for he +seemed to have occupied the police for the better part of the day. In +the latest news I found a further instalment of the story. The milkman +had been released, I read, and the true criminal, about whose identity +the police were reticent, was believed to have got away from London by +one of the northern lines. There was a short note about me as the +owner of the flat. I guessed the police had stuck that in, as a clumsy +contrivance to persuade me that I was unsuspected. +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing else in the paper, nothing about foreign politics or +Karolides, or the things that had interested Scudder. I laid it down, +and found that we were approaching the station at which I had got out +yesterday. The potato-digging station-master had been gingered up into +some activity, for the west-going train was waiting to let us pass, and +from it had descended three men who were asking him questions. I +supposed that they were the local police, who had been stirred up by +Scotland Yard, and had traced me as far as this one-horse siding. +Sitting well back in the shadow I watched them carefully. One of them +had a book, and took down notes. The old potato-digger seemed to have +turned peevish, but the child who had collected my ticket was talking +volubly. All the party looked out across the moor where the white road +departed. I hoped they were going to take up my tracks there. +</P> + +<P> +As we moved away from that station my companion woke up. He fixed me +with a wandering glance, kicked his dog viciously, and inquired where +he was. Clearly he was very drunk. +</P> + +<P> +'That's what comes o' bein' a teetotaller,' he observed in bitter +regret. +</P> + +<P> +I expressed my surprise that in him I should have met a blue-ribbon +stalwart. +</P> + +<P> +'Ay, but I'm a strong teetotaller,' he said pugnaciously. 'I took the +pledge last Martinmas, and I havena touched a drop o' whisky sinsyne. +Not even at Hogmanay, though I was sair temptit.' +</P> + +<P> +He swung his heels up on the seat, and burrowed a frowsy head into the +cushions. +</P> + +<P> +'And that's a' I get,' he moaned. 'A heid better than hell fire, and +twae een lookin' different ways for the Sabbath.' +</P> + +<P> +'What did it?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'A drink they ca' brandy. Bein' a teetotaller I keepit off the whisky, +but I was nip-nippin' a' day at this brandy, and I doubt I'll no be +weel for a fortnicht.' His voice died away into a splutter, and sleep +once more laid its heavy hand on him. +</P> + +<P> +My plan had been to get out at some station down the line, but the +train suddenly gave me a better chance, for it came to a standstill at +the end of a culvert which spanned a brawling porter-coloured river. I +looked out and saw that every carriage window was closed and no human +figure appeared in the landscape. So I opened the door, and dropped +quickly into the tangle of hazels which edged the line. +</P> + +<P> +It would have been all right but for that infernal dog. Under the +impression that I was decamping with its master's belongings, it +started to bark, and all but got me by the trousers. This woke up the +herd, who stood bawling at the carriage door in the belief that I had +committed suicide. I crawled through the thicket, reached the edge of +the stream, and in cover of the bushes put a hundred yards or so behind +me. Then from my shelter I peered back, and saw the guard and several +passengers gathered round the open carriage door and staring in my +direction. I could not have made a more public departure if I had left +with a bugler and a brass band. +</P> + +<P> +Happily the drunken herd provided a diversion. He and his dog, which +was attached by a rope to his waist, suddenly cascaded out of the +carriage, landed on their heads on the track, and rolled some way down +the bank towards the water. In the rescue which followed the dog bit +somebody, for I could hear the sound of hard swearing. Presently they +had forgotten me, and when after a quarter of a mile's crawl I ventured +to look back, the train had started again and was vanishing in the +cutting. +</P> + +<P> +I was in a wide semicircle of moorland, with the brown river as radius, +and the high hills forming the northern circumference. There was not a +sign or sound of a human being, only the plashing water and the +interminable crying of curlews. Yet, oddly enough, for the first time +I felt the terror of the hunted on me. It was not the police that I +thought of, but the other folk, who knew that I knew Scudder's secret +and dared not let me live. I was certain that they would pursue me +with a keenness and vigilance unknown to the British law, and that once +their grip closed on me I should find no mercy. +</P> + +<P> +I looked back, but there was nothing in the landscape. The sun glinted +on the metals of the line and the wet stones in the stream, and you +could not have found a more peaceful sight in the world. Nevertheless +I started to run. Crouching low in the runnels of the bog, I ran till +the sweat blinded my eyes. The mood did not leave me till I had +reached the rim of mountain and flung myself panting on a ridge high +above the young waters of the brown river. +</P> + +<P> +From my vantage-ground I could scan the whole moor right away to the +railway line and to the south of it where green fields took the place +of heather. I have eyes like a hawk, but I could see nothing moving in +the whole countryside. Then I looked east beyond the ridge and saw a +new kind of landscape—shallow green valleys with plentiful fir +plantations and the faint lines of dust which spoke of highroads. Last +of all I looked into the blue May sky, and there I saw that which set +my pulses racing ... +</P> + +<P> +Low down in the south a monoplane was climbing into the heavens. I was +as certain as if I had been told that that aeroplane was looking for +me, and that it did not belong to the police. For an hour or two I +watched it from a pit of heather. It flew low along the hill-tops, and +then in narrow circles over the valley up which I had come. Then it +seemed to change its mind, rose to a great height, and flew away back +to the south. +</P> + +<P> +I did not like this espionage from the air, and I began to think less +well of the countryside I had chosen for a refuge. These heather hills +were no sort of cover if my enemies were in the sky, and I must find a +different kind of sanctuary. I looked with more satisfaction to the +green country beyond the ridge, for there I should find woods and stone +houses. +</P> + +<P> +About six in the evening I came out of the moorland to a white ribbon +of road which wound up the narrow vale of a lowland stream. As I +followed it, fields gave place to bent, the glen became a plateau, and +presently I had reached a kind of pass where a solitary house smoked in +the twilight. The road swung over a bridge, and leaning on the parapet +was a young man. +</P> + +<P> +He was smoking a long clay pipe and studying the water with spectacled +eyes. In his left hand was a small book with a finger marking the +place. Slowly he repeated— +</P> + +<P CLASS="poem"> + As when a Gryphon through the wilderness<BR> + With winged step, o'er hill and moory dale<BR> + Pursues the Arimaspian.<BR> +</P> + +<P> +He jumped round as my step rung on the keystone, and I saw a pleasant +sunburnt boyish face. +</P> + +<P> +'Good evening to you,' he said gravely. 'It's a fine night for the +road.' +</P> + +<P> +The smell of peat smoke and of some savoury roast floated to me from +the house. +</P> + +<P> +'Is that place an inn?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'At your service,' he said politely. 'I am the landlord, Sir, and I +hope you will stay the night, for to tell you the truth I have had no +company for a week.' +</P> + +<P> +I pulled myself up on the parapet of the bridge and filled my pipe. I +began to detect an ally. +</P> + +<P> +'You're young to be an innkeeper,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +'My father died a year ago and left me the business. I live there with +my grandmother. It's a slow job for a young man, and it wasn't my +choice of profession.' +</P> + +<P> +'Which was?' +</P> + +<P> +He actually blushed. 'I want to write books,' he said. +</P> + +<P> +'And what better chance could you ask?' I cried. 'Man, I've often +thought that an innkeeper would make the best story-teller in the +world.' +</P> + +<P> +'Not now,' he said eagerly. 'Maybe in the old days when you had +pilgrims and ballad-makers and highwaymen and mail-coaches on the road. +But not now. Nothing comes here but motor-cars full of fat women, who +stop for lunch, and a fisherman or two in the spring, and the shooting +tenants in August. There is not much material to be got out of that. +I want to see life, to travel the world, and write things like Kipling +and Conrad. But the most I've done yet is to get some verses printed +in <i>Chambers's Journal</i>.' I looked at the inn standing golden in the +sunset against the brown hills. +</P> + +<P> +'I've knocked a bit about the world, and I wouldn't despise such a +hermitage. D'you think that adventure is found only in the tropics or +among gentry in red shirts? Maybe you're rubbing shoulders with it at +this moment.' +</P> + +<P> +'That's what Kipling says,' he said, his eyes brightening, and he +quoted some verse about 'Romance bringing up the 9.15'. +</P> + +<P> +'Here's a true tale for you then,' I cried, 'and a month from now you +can make a novel out of it.' +</P> + +<P> +Sitting on the bridge in the soft May gloaming I pitched him a lovely +yarn. It was true in essentials, too, though I altered the minor +details. I made out that I was a mining magnate from Kimberley, who +had had a lot of trouble with I.D.B. and had shown up a gang. They +had pursued me across the ocean, and had killed my best friend, and +were now on my tracks. +</P> + +<P> +I told the story well, though I say it who shouldn't. I pictured a +flight across the Kalahari to German Africa, the crackling, parching +days, the wonderful blue-velvet nights. I described an attack on my +life on the voyage home, and I made a really horrid affair of the +Portland Place murder. 'You're looking for adventure,' I cried; 'well, +you've found it here. The devils are after me, and the police are +after them. It's a race that I mean to win.' +</P> + +<P> +'By God!' he whispered, drawing his breath in sharply, 'it is all pure +Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.' +</P> + +<P> +'You believe me,' I said gratefully. +</P> + +<P> +'Of course I do,' and he held out his hand. 'I believe everything out +of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal.' +</P> + +<P> +He was very young, but he was the man for my money. +</P> + +<P> +'I think they're off my track for the moment, but I must lie close for +a couple of days. Can you take me in?' +</P> + +<P> +He caught my elbow in his eagerness and drew me towards the house. +'You can lie as snug here as if you were in a moss-hole. I'll see that +nobody blabs, either. And you'll give me some more material about your +adventures?' +</P> + +<P> +As I entered the inn porch I heard from far off the beat of an engine. +There silhouetted against the dusky West was my friend, the monoplane. +</P> + +<P> +He gave me a room at the back of the house, with a fine outlook over +the plateau, and he made me free of his own study, which was stacked +with cheap editions of his favourite authors. I never saw the +grandmother, so I guessed she was bedridden. An old woman called +Margit brought me my meals, and the innkeeper was around me at all +hours. I wanted some time to myself, so I invented a job for him. He +had a motor-bicycle, and I sent him off next morning for the daily +paper, which usually arrived with the post in the late afternoon. I +told him to keep his eyes skinned, and make note of any strange figures +he saw, keeping a special sharp look-out for motors and aeroplanes. +Then I sat down in real earnest to Scudder's note-book. +</P> + +<P> +He came back at midday with the <i>Scotsman</i>. There was nothing in it, +except some further evidence of Paddock and the milkman, and a +repetition of yesterday's statement that the murderer had gone North. +But there was a long article, reprinted from <i>The Times</i>, about Karolides +and the state of affairs in the Balkans, though there was no mention of +any visit to England. I got rid of the innkeeper for the afternoon, +for I was getting very warm in my search for the cypher. +</P> + +<P> +As I told you, it was a numerical cypher, and by an elaborate system of +experiments I had pretty well discovered what were the nulls and stops. +The trouble was the key word, and when I thought of the odd million +words he might have used I felt pretty hopeless. But about three +o'clock I had a sudden inspiration. +</P> + +<P> +The name Julia Czechenyi flashed across my memory. Scudder had said it +was the key to the Karolides business, and it occurred to me to try it +on his cypher. +</P> + +<P> +It worked. The five letters of 'Julia' gave me the position of the +vowels. A was J, the tenth letter of the alphabet, and so represented +by X in the cypher. E was XXI, and so on. 'Czechenyi' gave me the +numerals for the principal consonants. I scribbled that scheme on a +bit of paper and sat down to read Scudder's pages. +</P> + +<P> +In half an hour I was reading with a whitish face and fingers that +drummed on the table. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced out of the window and saw a big touring-car coming up the +glen towards the inn. It drew up at the door, and there was the sound +of people alighting. There seemed to be two of them, men in +aquascutums and tweed caps. +</P> + +<P> +Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes bright +with excitement. +</P> + +<P> +'There's two chaps below looking for you,' he whispered. 'They're in +the dining-room having whiskies-and-sodas. They asked about you and +said they had hoped to meet you here. Oh! and they described you jolly +well, down to your boots and shirt. I told them you had been here last +night and had gone off on a motor bicycle this morning, and one of the +chaps swore like a navvy.' +</P> + +<P> +I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed thin +fellow with bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and lisped in +his talk. Neither was any kind of foreigner; on this my young friend +was positive. +</P> + +<P> +I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they were +part of a letter— +</P> + +<P CLASS="letter"> + ... 'Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not + act for a fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially + as Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises + I will do the best I ...' +</P> + +<P> +I manufactured it rather neatly, so that it looked like a loose page of +a private letter. +</P> + +<P> +'Take this down and say it was found in my bedroom, and ask them to +return it to me if they overtake me.' +</P> + +<P> +Three minutes later I heard the car begin to move, and peeping from +behind the curtain caught sight of the two figures. One was slim, the +other was sleek; that was the most I could make of my reconnaissance. +</P> + +<P> +The innkeeper appeared in great excitement. 'Your paper woke them up,' +he said gleefully. 'The dark fellow went as white as death and cursed +like blazes, and the fat one whistled and looked ugly. They paid for +their drinks with half-a-sovereign and wouldn't wait for change.' +</P> + +<P> +'Now I'll tell you what I want you to do,' I said. 'Get on your +bicycle and go off to Newton-Stewart to the Chief Constable. Describe +the two men, and say you suspect them of having had something to do +with the London murder. You can invent reasons. The two will come +back, never fear. Not tonight, for they'll follow me forty miles along +the road, but first thing tomorrow morning. Tell the police to be here +bright and early.' +</P> + +<P> +He set off like a docile child, while I worked at Scudder's notes. +When he came back we dined together, and in common decency I had to let +him pump me. I gave him a lot of stuff about lion hunts and the +Matabele War, thinking all the while what tame businesses these were +compared to this I was now engaged in! When he went to bed I sat up +and finished Scudder. I smoked in a chair till daylight, for I could +not sleep. +</P> + +<P> +About eight next morning I witnessed the arrival of two constables and +a sergeant. They put their car in a coach-house under the innkeeper's +instructions, and entered the house. Twenty minutes later I saw from +my window a second car come across the plateau from the opposite +direction. It did not come up to the inn, but stopped two hundred +yards off in the shelter of a patch of wood. I noticed that its +occupants carefully reversed it before leaving it. A minute or two +later I heard their steps on the gravel outside the window. +</P> + +<P> +My plan had been to lie hid in my bedroom, and see what happened. I +had a notion that, if I could bring the police and my other more +dangerous pursuers together, something might work out of it to my +advantage. But now I had a better idea. I scribbled a line of thanks +to my host, opened the window, and dropped quietly into a gooseberry +bush. Unobserved I crossed the dyke, crawled down the side of a +tributary burn, and won the highroad on the far side of the patch of +trees. There stood the car, very spick and span in the morning +sunlight, but with the dust on her which told of a long journey. I +started her, jumped into the chauffeur's seat, and stole gently out on +to the plateau. +</P> + +<P> +Almost at once the road dipped so that I lost sight of the inn, but the +wind seemed to bring me the sound of angry voices. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap04"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER FOUR +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Adventure of the Radical Candidate +</H3> + +<P> +You may picture me driving that 40 h.p. car for all she was worth over +the crisp moor roads on that shining May morning; glancing back at +first over my shoulder, and looking anxiously to the next turning; then +driving with a vague eye, just wide enough awake to keep on the +highway. For I was thinking desperately of what I had found in +Scudder's pocket-book. +</P> + +<P> +The little man had told me a pack of lies. All his yarns about the +Balkans and the Jew-Anarchists and the Foreign Office Conference were +eyewash, and so was Karolides. And yet not quite, as you shall hear. +I had staked everything on my belief in his story, and had been let +down; here was his book telling me a different tale, and instead of +being once-bitten-twice-shy, I believed it absolutely. +</P> + +<P> +Why, I don't know. It rang desperately true, and the first yarn, if +you understand me, had been in a queer way true also in spirit. The +fifteenth day of June was going to be a day of destiny, a bigger +destiny than the killing of a Dago. It was so big that I didn't blame +Scudder for keeping me out of the game and wanting to play a lone hand. +That, I was pretty clear, was his intention. He had told me something +which sounded big enough, but the real thing was so immortally big that +he, the man who had found it out, wanted it all for himself. I didn't +blame him. It was risks after all that he was chiefly greedy about. +</P> + +<P> +The whole story was in the notes—with gaps, you understand, which he +would have filled up from his memory. He stuck down his authorities, +too, and had an odd trick of giving them all a numerical value and then +striking a balance, which stood for the reliability of each stage in +the yarn. The four names he had printed were authorities, and there +was a man, Ducrosne, who got five out of a possible five; and another +fellow, Ammersfoort, who got three. The bare bones of the tale were +all that was in the book—these, and one queer phrase which occurred +half a dozen times inside brackets. '(Thirty-nine steps)' was the +phrase; and at its last time of use it ran—'(Thirty-nine steps, I +counted them—high tide 10.17 p.m.)'. I could make nothing of that. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing I learned was that it was no question of preventing a +war. That was coming, as sure as Christmas: had been arranged, said +Scudder, ever since February 1912. Karolides was going to be the +occasion. He was booked all right, and was to hand in his checks on +June 14th, two weeks and four days from that May morning. I gathered +from Scudder's notes that nothing on earth could prevent that. His +talk of Epirote guards that would skin their own grandmothers was all +billy-o. +</P> + +<P> +The second thing was that this war was going to come as a mighty +surprise to Britain. Karolides' death would set the Balkans by the +ears, and then Vienna would chip in with an ultimatum. Russia wouldn't +like that, and there would be high words. But Berlin would play the +peacemaker, and pour oil on the waters, till suddenly she would find a +good cause for a quarrel, pick it up, and in five hours let fly at us. +That was the idea, and a pretty good one too. Honey and fair speeches, +and then a stroke in the dark. While we were talking about the +goodwill and good intentions of Germany our coast would be silently +ringed with mines, and submarines would be waiting for every battleship. +</P> + +<P> +But all this depended upon the third thing, which was due to happen on +June 15th. I would never have grasped this if I hadn't once happened +to meet a French staff officer, coming back from West Africa, who had +told me a lot of things. One was that, in spite of all the nonsense +talked in Parliament, there was a real working alliance between France +and Britain, and that the two General Staffs met every now and then, +and made plans for joint action in case of war. Well, in June a very +great swell was coming over from Paris, and he was going to get nothing +less than a statement of the disposition of the British Home Fleet on +mobilization. At least I gathered it was something like that; anyhow, +it was something uncommonly important. +</P> + +<P> +But on the 15th day of June there were to be others in London—others, +at whom I could only guess. Scudder was content to call them +collectively the 'Black Stone'. They represented not our Allies, but +our deadly foes; and the information, destined for France, was to be +diverted to their pockets. And it was to be used, remember—used a +week or two later, with great guns and swift torpedoes, suddenly in the +darkness of a summer night. +</P> + +<P> +This was the story I had been deciphering in a back room of a country +inn, overlooking a cabbage garden. This was the story that hummed in +my brain as I swung in the big touring-car from glen to glen. +</P> + +<P> +My first impulse had been to write a letter to the Prime Minister, but +a little reflection convinced me that that would be useless. Who would +believe my tale? I must show a sign, some token in proof, and Heaven +knew what that could be. Above all, I must keep going myself, ready to +act when things got riper, and that was going to be no light job with +the police of the British Isles in full cry after me and the watchers +of the Black Stone running silently and swiftly on my trail. +</P> + +<P> +I had no very clear purpose in my journey, but I steered east by the +sun, for I remembered from the map that if I went north I would come +into a region of coalpits and industrial towns. Presently I was down +from the moorlands and traversing the broad haugh of a river. For +miles I ran alongside a park wall, and in a break of the trees I saw a +great castle. I swung through little old thatched villages, and over +peaceful lowland streams, and past gardens blazing with hawthorn and +yellow laburnum. The land was so deep in peace that I could scarcely +believe that somewhere behind me were those who sought my life; ay, and +that in a month's time, unless I had the almightiest of luck, these +round country faces would be pinched and staring, and men would be +lying dead in English fields. +</P> + +<P> +About mid-day I entered a long straggling village, and had a mind to +stop and eat. Half-way down was the Post Office, and on the steps of +it stood the postmistress and a policeman hard at work conning a +telegram. When they saw me they wakened up, and the policeman advanced +with raised hand, and cried on me to stop. +</P> + +<P> +I nearly was fool enough to obey. Then it flashed upon me that the +wire had to do with me; that my friends at the inn had come to an +understanding, and were united in desiring to see more of me, and that +it had been easy enough for them to wire the description of me and the +car to thirty villages through which I might pass. I released the +brakes just in time. As it was, the policeman made a claw at the hood, +and only dropped off when he got my left in his eye. +</P> + +<P> +I saw that main roads were no place for me, and turned into the byways. +It wasn't an easy job without a map, for there was the risk of getting +on to a farm road and ending in a duck-pond or a stable-yard, and I +couldn't afford that kind of delay. I began to see what an ass I had +been to steal the car. The big green brute would be the safest kind of +clue to me over the breadth of Scotland. If I left it and took to my +feet, it would be discovered in an hour or two and I would get no start +in the race. +</P> + +<P> +The immediate thing to do was to get to the loneliest roads. These I +soon found when I struck up a tributary of the big river, and got into +a glen with steep hills all about me, and a corkscrew road at the end +which climbed over a pass. Here I met nobody, but it was taking me too +far north, so I slewed east along a bad track and finally struck a big +double-line railway. Away below me I saw another broadish valley, and +it occurred to me that if I crossed it I might find some remote inn to +pass the night. The evening was now drawing in, and I was furiously +hungry, for I had eaten nothing since breakfast except a couple of buns +I had bought from a baker's cart. Just then I heard a noise in the +sky, and lo and behold there was that infernal aeroplane, flying low, +about a dozen miles to the south and rapidly coming towards me. +</P> + +<P> +I had the sense to remember that on a bare moor I was at the +aeroplane's mercy, and that my only chance was to get to the leafy +cover of the valley. Down the hill I went like blue lightning, +screwing my head round, whenever I dared, to watch that damned flying +machine. Soon I was on a road between hedges, and dipping to the +deep-cut glen of a stream. Then came a bit of thick wood where I +slackened speed. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly on my left I heard the hoot of another car, and realized to my +horror that I was almost up on a couple of gate-posts through which a +private road debouched on the highway. My horn gave an agonized roar, +but it was too late. I clapped on my brakes, but my impetus was too +great, and there before me a car was sliding athwart my course. In a +second there would have been the deuce of a wreck. I did the only +thing possible, and ran slap into the hedge on the right, trusting to +find something soft beyond. +</P> + +<P> +But there I was mistaken. My car slithered through the hedge like +butter, and then gave a sickening plunge forward. I saw what was +coming, leapt on the seat and would have jumped out. But a branch of +hawthorn got me in the chest, lifted me up and held me, while a ton or +two of expensive metal slipped below me, bucked and pitched, and then +dropped with an almighty smash fifty feet to the bed of the stream. +</P> + +<P> +Slowly that thorn let me go. I subsided first on the hedge, and then +very gently on a bower of nettles. As I scrambled to my feet a hand +took me by the arm, and a sympathetic and badly scared voice asked me +if I were hurt. +</P> + +<P> +I found myself looking at a tall young man in goggles and a leather +ulster, who kept on blessing his soul and whinnying apologies. For +myself, once I got my wind back, I was rather glad than otherwise. +This was one way of getting rid of the car. +</P> + +<P> +'My blame, Sir,' I answered him. 'It's lucky that I did not add +homicide to my follies. That's the end of my Scotch motor tour, but it +might have been the end of my life.' +</P> + +<P> +He plucked out a watch and studied it. 'You're the right sort of +fellow,' he said. 'I can spare a quarter of an hour, and my house is +two minutes off. I'll see you clothed and fed and snug in bed. +Where's your kit, by the way? Is it in the burn along with the car?' +</P> + +<P> +'It's in my pocket,' I said, brandishing a toothbrush. 'I'm a Colonial +and travel light.' +</P> + +<P> +'A Colonial,' he cried. 'By Gad, you're the very man I've been praying +for. Are you by any blessed chance a Free Trader?' +</P> + +<P> +'I am,' said I, without the foggiest notion of what he meant. +</P> + +<P> +He patted my shoulder and hurried me into his car. Three minutes later +we drew up before a comfortable-looking shooting box set among +pine-trees, and he ushered me indoors. He took me first to a bedroom +and flung half a dozen of his suits before me, for my own had been +pretty well reduced to rags. I selected a loose blue serge, which +differed most conspicuously from my former garments, and borrowed a +linen collar. Then he haled me to the dining-room, where the remnants +of a meal stood on the table, and announced that I had just five +minutes to feed. 'You can take a snack in your pocket, and we'll have +supper when we get back. I've got to be at the Masonic Hall at eight +o'clock, or my agent will comb my hair.' +</P> + +<P> +I had a cup of coffee and some cold ham, while he yarned away on the +hearth-rug. +</P> + +<P> +'You find me in the deuce of a mess, Mr—by-the-by, you haven't told me +your name. Twisdon? Any relation of old Tommy Twisdon of the +Sixtieth? No? Well, you see I'm Liberal Candidate for this part of +the world, and I had a meeting on tonight at Brattleburn—that's my +chief town, and an infernal Tory stronghold. I had got the Colonial +ex-Premier fellow, Crumpleton, coming to speak for me tonight, and had +the thing tremendously billed and the whole place ground-baited. This +afternoon I had a wire from the ruffian saying he had got influenza at +Blackpool, and here am I left to do the whole thing myself. I had +meant to speak for ten minutes and must now go on for forty, and, +though I've been racking my brains for three hours to think of +something, I simply cannot last the course. Now you've got to be a +good chap and help me. You're a Free Trader and can tell our people +what a wash-out Protection is in the Colonies. All you fellows have +the gift of the gab—I wish to Heaven I had it. I'll be for evermore +in your debt.' +</P> + +<P> +I had very few notions about Free Trade one way or the other, but I saw +no other chance to get what I wanted. My young gentleman was far too +absorbed in his own difficulties to think how odd it was to ask a +stranger who had just missed death by an ace and had lost a +1,000-guinea car to address a meeting for him on the spur of the +moment. But my necessities did not allow me to contemplate oddnesses +or to pick and choose my supports. +</P> + +<P> +'All right,' I said. 'I'm not much good as a speaker, but I'll tell +them a bit about Australia.' +</P> + +<P> +At my words the cares of the ages slipped from his shoulders, and he +was rapturous in his thanks. He lent me a big driving coat—and never +troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour without possessing an +ulster—and, as we slipped down the dusty roads, poured into my ears +the simple facts of his history. He was an orphan, and his uncle had +brought him up—I've forgotten the uncle's name, but he was in the +Cabinet, and you can read his speeches in the papers. He had gone +round the world after leaving Cambridge, and then, being short of a +job, his uncle had advised politics. I gathered that he had no +preference in parties. 'Good chaps in both,' he said cheerfully, 'and +plenty of blighters, too. I'm Liberal, because my family have always +been Whigs.' But if he was lukewarm politically he had strong views on +other things. He found out I knew a bit about horses, and jawed away +about the Derby entries; and he was full of plans for improving his +shooting. Altogether, a very clean, decent, callow young man. +</P> + +<P> +As we passed through a little town two policemen signalled us to stop, +and flashed their lanterns on us. +</P> + +<P> +'Beg pardon, Sir Harry,' said one. 'We've got instructions to look out +for a car, and the description's no unlike yours.' +</P> + +<P> +'Right-o,' said my host, while I thanked Providence for the devious +ways I had been brought to safety. After that he spoke no more, for +his mind began to labour heavily with his coming speech. His lips kept +muttering, his eye wandered, and I began to prepare myself for a second +catastrophe. I tried to think of something to say myself, but my mind +was dry as a stone. The next thing I knew we had drawn up outside a +door in a street, and were being welcomed by some noisy gentlemen with +rosettes. The hall had about five hundred in it, women mostly, a lot +of bald heads, and a dozen or two young men. The chairman, a weaselly +minister with a reddish nose, lamented Crumpleton's absence, +soliloquized on his influenza, and gave me a certificate as a 'trusted +leader of Australian thought'. There were two policemen at the door, +and I hoped they took note of that testimonial. Then Sir Harry started. +</P> + +<P> +I never heard anything like it. He didn't begin to know how to talk. +He had about a bushel of notes from which he read, and when he let go +of them he fell into one prolonged stutter. Every now and then he +remembered a phrase he had learned by heart, straightened his back, and +gave it off like Henry Irving, and the next moment he was bent double +and crooning over his papers. It was the most appalling rot, too. He +talked about the 'German menace', and said it was all a Tory invention +to cheat the poor of their rights and keep back the great flood of +social reform, but that 'organized labour' realized this and laughed +the Tories to scorn. He was all for reducing our Navy as a proof of +our good faith, and then sending Germany an ultimatum telling her to do +the same or we would knock her into a cocked hat. He said that, but +for the Tories, Germany and Britain would be fellow-workers in peace +and reform. I thought of the little black book in my pocket! A giddy +lot Scudder's friends cared for peace and reform. +</P> + +<P> +Yet in a queer way I liked the speech. You could see the niceness of +the chap shining out behind the muck with which he had been spoon-fed. +Also it took a load off my mind. I mightn't be much of an orator, but +I was a thousand per cent better than Sir Harry. +</P> + +<P> +I didn't get on so badly when it came to my turn. I simply told them +all I could remember about Australia, praying there should be no +Australian there—all about its labour party and emigration and +universal service. I doubt if I remembered to mention Free Trade, but +I said there were no Tories in Australia, only Labour and Liberals. +That fetched a cheer, and I woke them up a bit when I started in to +tell them the kind of glorious business I thought could be made out of +the Empire if we really put our backs into it. +</P> + +<P> +Altogether I fancy I was rather a success. The minister didn't like +me, though, and when he proposed a vote of thanks, spoke of Sir Harry's +speech as 'statesmanlike' and mine as having 'the eloquence of an +emigration agent'. +</P> + +<P> +When we were in the car again my host was in wild spirits at having got +his job over. 'A ripping speech, Twisdon,' he said. 'Now, you're +coming home with me. I'm all alone, and if you'll stop a day or two +I'll show you some very decent fishing.' +</P> + +<P> +We had a hot supper—and I wanted it pretty badly—and then drank grog +in a big cheery smoking-room with a crackling wood fire. I thought the +time had come for me to put my cards on the table. I saw by this man's +eye that he was the kind you can trust. +</P> + +<P> +'Listen, Sir Harry,' I said. 'I've something pretty important to say +to you. You're a good fellow, and I'm going to be frank. Where on +earth did you get that poisonous rubbish you talked tonight?' +</P> + +<P> +His face fell. 'Was it as bad as that?' he asked ruefully. 'It did +sound rather thin. I got most of it out of the PROGRESSIVE MAGAZINE +and pamphlets that agent chap of mine keeps sending me. But you surely +don't think Germany would ever go to war with us?' +</P> + +<P> +'Ask that question in six weeks and it won't need an answer,' I said. +'If you'll give me your attention for half an hour I am going to tell +you a story.' +</P> + +<P> +I can see yet that bright room with the deers' heads and the old prints +on the walls, Sir Harry standing restlessly on the stone curb of the +hearth, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. I seemed to be +another person, standing aside and listening to my own voice, and +judging carefully the reliability of my tale. It was the first time I +had ever told anyone the exact truth, so far as I understood it, and it +did me no end of good, for it straightened out the thing in my own +mind. I blinked no detail. He heard all about Scudder, and the +milkman, and the note-book, and my doings in Galloway. Presently he +got very excited and walked up and down the hearth-rug. +</P> + +<P> +'So you see,' I concluded, 'you have got here in your house the man +that is wanted for the Portland Place murder. Your duty is to send +your car for the police and give me up. I don't think I'll get very +far. There'll be an accident, and I'll have a knife in my ribs an hour +or so after arrest. Nevertheless, it's your duty, as a law-abiding +citizen. Perhaps in a month's time you'll be sorry, but you have no +cause to think of that.' +</P> + +<P> +He was looking at me with bright steady eyes. 'What was your job in +Rhodesia, Mr Hannay?' he asked. +</P> + +<P> +'Mining engineer,' I said. 'I've made my pile cleanly and I've had a +good time in the making of it.' +</P> + +<P> +'Not a profession that weakens the nerves, is it?' +</P> + +<P> +I laughed. 'Oh, as to that, my nerves are good enough.' I took down a +hunting-knife from a stand on the wall, and did the old Mashona trick +of tossing it and catching it in my lips. That wants a pretty steady +heart. +</P> + +<P> +He watched me with a smile. 'I don't want proof. I may be an ass on +the platform, but I can size up a man. You're no murderer and you're +no fool, and I believe you are speaking the truth. I'm going to back +you up. Now, what can I do?' +</P> + +<P> +'First, I want you to write a letter to your uncle. I've got to get in +touch with the Government people sometime before the 15th of June.' +</P> + +<P> +He pulled his moustache. 'That won't help you. This is Foreign Office +business, and my uncle would have nothing to do with it. Besides, +you'd never convince him. No, I'll go one better. I'll write to the +Permanent Secretary at the Foreign Office. He's my godfather, and one +of the best going. What do you want?' +</P> + +<P> +He sat down at a table and wrote to my dictation. The gist of it was +that if a man called Twisdon (I thought I had better stick to that +name) turned up before June 15th he was to entreat him kindly. He said +Twisdon would prove his bona fides by passing the word 'Black Stone' +and whistling 'Annie Laurie'. +</P> + +<P> +'Good,' said Sir Harry. 'That's the proper style. By the way, you'll +find my godfather—his name's Sir Walter Bullivant—down at his country +cottage for Whitsuntide. It's close to Artinswell on the Kenner. +That's done. Now, what's the next thing?' +</P> + +<P> +'You're about my height. Lend me the oldest tweed suit you've got. +Anything will do, so long as the colour is the opposite of the clothes +I destroyed this afternoon. Then show me a map of the neighbourhood +and explain to me the lie of the land. Lastly, if the police come +seeking me, just show them the car in the glen. If the other lot turn +up, tell them I caught the south express after your meeting.' +</P> + +<P> +He did, or promised to do, all these things. I shaved off the remnants +of my moustache, and got inside an ancient suit of what I believe is +called heather mixture. The map gave me some notion of my whereabouts, +and told me the two things I wanted to know—where the main railway to +the south could be joined and what were the wildest districts near at +hand. At two o'clock he wakened me from my slumbers in the +smoking-room armchair, and led me blinking into the dark starry night. +An old bicycle was found in a tool-shed and handed over to me. +</P> + +<P> +'First turn to the right up by the long fir-wood,' he enjoined. 'By +daybreak you'll be well into the hills. Then I should pitch the +machine into a bog and take to the moors on foot. You can put in a +week among the shepherds, and be as safe as if you were in New Guinea.' +</P> + +<P> +I pedalled diligently up steep roads of hill gravel till the skies grew +pale with morning. As the mists cleared before the sun, I found myself +in a wide green world with glens falling on every side and a far-away +blue horizon. Here, at any rate, I could get early news of my enemies. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap05"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER FIVE +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman +</H3> + +<P> +I sat down on the very crest of the pass and took stock of my position. +</P> + +<P> +Behind me was the road climbing through a long cleft in the hills, +which was the upper glen of some notable river. In front was a flat +space of maybe a mile, all pitted with bog-holes and rough with +tussocks, and then beyond it the road fell steeply down another glen to +a plain whose blue dimness melted into the distance. To left and right +were round-shouldered green hills as smooth as pancakes, but to the +south—that is, the left hand—there was a glimpse of high heathery +mountains, which I remembered from the map as the big knot of hill +which I had chosen for my sanctuary. I was on the central boss of a +huge upland country, and could see everything moving for miles. In the +meadows below the road half a mile back a cottage smoked, but it was +the only sign of human life. Otherwise there was only the calling of +plovers and the tinkling of little streams. +</P> + +<P> +It was now about seven o'clock, and as I waited I heard once again that +ominous beat in the air. Then I realized that my vantage-ground might +be in reality a trap. There was no cover for a tomtit in those bald +green places. +</P> + +<P> +I sat quite still and hopeless while the beat grew louder. Then I saw +an aeroplane coming up from the east. It was flying high, but as I +looked it dropped several hundred feet and began to circle round the +knot of hill in narrowing circles, just as a hawk wheels before it +pounces. Now it was flying very low, and now the observer on board +caught sight of me. I could see one of the two occupants examining me +through glasses. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly it began to rise in swift whorls, and the next I knew it was +speeding eastward again till it became a speck in the blue morning. +</P> + +<P> +That made me do some savage thinking. My enemies had located me, and +the next thing would be a cordon round me. I didn't know what force +they could command, but I was certain it would be sufficient. The +aeroplane had seen my bicycle, and would conclude that I would try to +escape by the road. In that case there might be a chance on the moors +to the right or left. I wheeled the machine a hundred yards from the +highway, and plunged it into a moss-hole, where it sank among pond-weed +and water-buttercups. Then I climbed to a knoll which gave me a view +of the two valleys. Nothing was stirring on the long white ribbon that +threaded them. +</P> + +<P> +I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat. As +the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had the +fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I would +have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The free +moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the breath of a +dungeon. +</P> + +<P> +I tossed a coin—heads right, tails left—and it fell heads, so I +turned to the north. In a little I came to the brow of the ridge which +was the containing wall of the pass. I saw the highroad for maybe ten +miles, and far down it something that was moving, and that I took to be +a motor-car. Beyond the ridge I looked on a rolling green moor, which +fell away into wooded glens. +</P> + +<P> +Now my life on the veld has given me the eyes of a kite, and I can see +things for which most men need a telescope ... Away down the slope, a +couple of miles away, several men were advancing, like a row of +beaters at a shoot ... +</P> + +<P> +I dropped out of sight behind the sky-line. That way was shut to me, +and I must try the bigger hills to the south beyond the highway. The +car I had noticed was getting nearer, but it was still a long way off +with some very steep gradients before it. I ran hard, crouching low +except in the hollows, and as I ran I kept scanning the brow of the +hill before me. Was it imagination, or did I see figures—one, two, +perhaps more—moving in a glen beyond the stream? +</P> + +<P> +If you are hemmed in on all sides in a patch of land there is only one +chance of escape. You must stay in the patch, and let your enemies +search it and not find you. That was good sense, but how on earth was +I to escape notice in that table-cloth of a place? I would have buried +myself to the neck in mud or lain below water or climbed the tallest +tree. But there was not a stick of wood, the bog-holes were little +puddles, the stream was a slender trickle. There was nothing but short +heather, and bare hill bent, and the white highway. +</P> + +<P> +Then in a tiny bight of road, beside a heap of stones, I found the +roadman. +</P> + +<P> +He had just arrived, and was wearily flinging down his hammer. He +looked at me with a fishy eye and yawned. +</P> + +<P> +'Confoond the day I ever left the herdin'!' he said, as if to the world +at large. 'There I was my ain maister. Now I'm a slave to the +Goavernment, tethered to the roadside, wi' sair een, and a back like a +suckle.' +</P> + +<P> +He took up the hammer, struck a stone, dropped the implement with an +oath, and put both hands to his ears. 'Mercy on me! My heid's +burstin'!' he cried. +</P> + +<P> +He was a wild figure, about my own size but much bent, with a week's +beard on his chin, and a pair of big horn spectacles. +</P> + +<P> +'I canna dae't,' he cried again. 'The Surveyor maun just report me. +I'm for my bed.' +</P> + +<P> +I asked him what was the trouble, though indeed that was clear enough. +</P> + +<P> +'The trouble is that I'm no sober. Last nicht my dochter Merran was +waddit, and they danced till fower in the byre. Me and some ither +chiels sat down to the drinkin', and here I am. Peety that I ever +lookit on the wine when it was red!' +</P> + +<P> +I agreed with him about bed. 'It's easy speakin',' he moaned. 'But I +got a postcard yestreen sayin' that the new Road Surveyor would be +round the day. He'll come and he'll no find me, or else he'll find me +fou, and either way I'm a done man. I'll awa' back to my bed and say +I'm no weel, but I doot that'll no help me, for they ken my kind o' +no-weel-ness.' +</P> + +<P> +Then I had an inspiration. 'Does the new Surveyor know you?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'No him. He's just been a week at the job. He rins about in a wee +motor-cawr, and wad speir the inside oot o' a whelk.' +</P> + +<P> +'Where's your house?' I asked, and was directed by a wavering finger to +the cottage by the stream. +</P> + +<P> +'Well, back to your bed,' I said, 'and sleep in peace. I'll take on +your job for a bit and see the Surveyor.' +</P> + +<P> +He stared at me blankly; then, as the notion dawned on his fuddled +brain, his face broke into the vacant drunkard's smile. +</P> + +<P> +'You're the billy,' he cried. 'It'll be easy eneuch managed. I've +finished that bing o' stanes, so you needna chap ony mair this +forenoon. Just take the barry, and wheel eneuch metal frae yon quarry +doon the road to mak anither bing the morn. My name's Alexander +Turnbull, and I've been seeven year at the trade, and twenty afore that +herdin' on Leithen Water. My freens ca' me Ecky, and whiles Specky, +for I wear glesses, being waik i' the sicht. Just you speak the +Surveyor fair, and ca' him Sir, and he'll be fell pleased. I'll be +back or mid-day.' +</P> + +<P> +I borrowed his spectacles and filthy old hat; stripped off coat, +waistcoat, and collar, and gave him them to carry home; borrowed, too, +the foul stump of a clay pipe as an extra property. He indicated my +simple tasks, and without more ado set off at an amble bedwards. Bed +may have been his chief object, but I think there was also something +left in the foot of a bottle. I prayed that he might be safe under +cover before my friends arrived on the scene. +</P> + +<P> +Then I set to work to dress for the part. I opened the collar of my +shirt—it was a vulgar blue-and-white check such as ploughmen wear—and +revealed a neck as brown as any tinker's. I rolled up my sleeves, and +there was a forearm which might have been a blacksmith's, sunburnt and +rough with old scars. I got my boots and trouser-legs all white from +the dust of the road, and hitched up my trousers, tying them with +string below the knee. Then I set to work on my face. With a handful +of dust I made a water-mark round my neck, the place where Mr +Turnbull's Sunday ablutions might be expected to stop. I rubbed a good +deal of dirt also into the sunburn of my cheeks. A roadman's eyes +would no doubt be a little inflamed, so I contrived to get some dust in +both of mine, and by dint of vigorous rubbing produced a bleary effect. +</P> + +<P> +The sandwiches Sir Harry had given me had gone off with my coat, but +the roadman's lunch, tied up in a red handkerchief, was at my disposal. +I ate with great relish several of the thick slabs of scone and cheese +and drank a little of the cold tea. In the handkerchief was a local +paper tied with string and addressed to Mr Turnbull—obviously meant to +solace his mid-day leisure. I did up the bundle again, and put the +paper conspicuously beside it. +</P> + +<P> +My boots did not satisfy me, but by dint of kicking among the stones I +reduced them to the granite-like surface which marks a roadman's +foot-gear. Then I bit and scraped my finger-nails till the edges were +all cracked and uneven. The men I was matched against would miss no +detail. I broke one of the bootlaces and retied it in a clumsy knot, +and loosed the other so that my thick grey socks bulged over the +uppers. Still no sign of anything on the road. The motor I had +observed half an hour ago must have gone home. +</P> + +<P> +My toilet complete, I took up the barrow and began my journeys to and +from the quarry a hundred yards off. +</P> + +<P> +I remember an old scout in Rhodesia, who had done many queer things in +his day, once telling me that the secret of playing a part was to think +yourself into it. You could never keep it up, he said, unless you +could manage to convince yourself that you were it. So I shut off all +other thoughts and switched them on to the road-mending. I thought of +the little white cottage as my home, I recalled the years I had spent +herding on Leithen Water, I made my mind dwell lovingly on sleep in a +box-bed and a bottle of cheap whisky. Still nothing appeared on that +long white road. +</P> + +<P> +Now and then a sheep wandered off the heather to stare at me. A heron +flopped down to a pool in the stream and started to fish, taking no +more notice of me than if I had been a milestone. On I went, trundling +my loads of stone, with the heavy step of the professional. Soon I +grew warm, and the dust on my face changed into solid and abiding grit. +I was already counting the hours till evening should put a limit to Mr +Turnbull's monotonous toil. Suddenly a crisp voice spoke from the +road, and looking up I saw a little Ford two-seater, and a round-faced +young man in a bowler hat. +</P> + +<P> +'Are you Alexander Turnbull?' he asked. 'I am the new County Road +Surveyor. You live at Blackhopefoot, and have charge of the section +from Laidlawbyres to the Riggs? Good! A fair bit of road, Turnbull, +and not badly engineered. A little soft about a mile off, and the +edges want cleaning. See you look after that. Good morning. You'll +know me the next time you see me.' +</P> + +<P> +Clearly my get-up was good enough for the dreaded Surveyor. I went on +with my work, and as the morning grew towards noon I was cheered by a +little traffic. A baker's van breasted the hill, and sold me a bag of +ginger biscuits which I stowed in my trouser-pockets against +emergencies. Then a herd passed with sheep, and disturbed me somewhat +by asking loudly, 'What had become o' Specky?' +</P> + +<P> +'In bed wi' the colic,' I replied, and the herd passed on ... just +about mid-day a big car stole down the hill, glided past and drew up a +hundred yards beyond. Its three occupants descended as if to stretch +their legs, and sauntered towards me. +</P> + +<P> +Two of the men I had seen before from the window of the Galloway +inn—one lean, sharp, and dark, the other comfortable and smiling. The +third had the look of a countryman—a vet, perhaps, or a small farmer. +He was dressed in ill-cut knickerbockers, and the eye in his head was +as bright and wary as a hen's. +</P> + +<P> +'Morning,' said the last. 'That's a fine easy job o' yours.' +</P> + +<P> +I had not looked up on their approach, and now, when accosted, I slowly +and painfully straightened my back, after the manner of roadmen; spat +vigorously, after the manner of the low Scot; and regarded them +steadily before replying. I confronted three pairs of eyes that missed +nothing. +</P> + +<P> +'There's waur jobs and there's better,' I said sententiously. 'I wad +rather hae yours, sittin' a' day on your hinderlands on thae cushions. +It's you and your muckle cawrs that wreck my roads! If we a' had oor +richts, ye sud be made to mend what ye break.' +</P> + +<P> +The bright-eyed man was looking at the newspaper lying beside +Turnbull's bundle. +</P> + +<P> +'I see you get your papers in good time,' he said. +</P> + +<P> +I glanced at it casually. 'Aye, in gude time. Seein' that that paper +cam' out last Setterday I'm just Sax days late.' +</P> + +<P> +He picked it up, glanced at the superscription, and laid it down again. +One of the others had been looking at my boots, and a word in German +called the speaker's attention to them. +</P> + +<P> +'You've a fine taste in boots,' he said. 'These were never made by a +country shoemaker.' +</P> + +<P> +'They were not,' I said readily. 'They were made in London. I got +them frae the gentleman that was here last year for the shootin'. What +was his name now?' And I scratched a forgetful head. Again the sleek +one spoke in German. 'Let us get on,' he said. 'This fellow is all +right.' +</P> + +<P> +They asked one last question. +</P> + +<P> +'Did you see anyone pass early this morning? He might be on a bicycle +or he might be on foot.' +</P> + +<P> +I very nearly fell into the trap and told a story of a bicyclist +hurrying past in the grey dawn. But I had the sense to see my danger. +I pretended to consider very deeply. +</P> + +<P> +'I wasna up very early,' I said. 'Ye see, my dochter was merrit last +nicht, and we keepit it up late. I opened the house door about seeven +and there was naebody on the road then. Since I cam' up here there has +just been the baker and the Ruchill herd, besides you gentlemen.' +</P> + +<P> +One of them gave me a cigar, which I smelt gingerly and stuck in +Turnbull's bundle. They got into their car and were out of sight in +three minutes. +</P> + +<P> +My heart leaped with an enormous relief, but I went on wheeling my +stones. It was as well, for ten minutes later the car returned, one of +the occupants waving a hand to me. Those gentry left nothing to chance. +</P> + +<P> +I finished Turnbull's bread and cheese, and pretty soon I had finished +the stones. The next step was what puzzled me. I could not keep up +this roadmaking business for long. A merciful Providence had kept Mr +Turnbull indoors, but if he appeared on the scene there would be +trouble. I had a notion that the cordon was still tight round the +glen, and that if I walked in any direction I should meet with +questioners. But get out I must. No man's nerve could stand more than +a day of being spied on. +</P> + +<P> +I stayed at my post till five o'clock. By that time I had resolved to +go down to Turnbull's cottage at nightfall and take my chance of +getting over the hills in the darkness. But suddenly a new car came up +the road, and slowed down a yard or two from me. A fresh wind had +risen, and the occupant wanted to light a cigarette. It was a touring +car, with the tonneau full of an assortment of baggage. One man sat in +it, and by an amazing chance I knew him. His name was Marmaduke +Jopley, and he was an offence to creation. He was a sort of blood +stockbroker, who did his business by toadying eldest sons and rich +young peers and foolish old ladies. 'Marmie' was a familiar figure, I +understood, at balls and polo-weeks and country houses. He was an +adroit scandal-monger, and would crawl a mile on his belly to anything +that had a title or a million. I had a business introduction to his +firm when I came to London, and he was good enough to ask me to dinner +at his club. There he showed off at a great rate, and pattered about +his duchesses till the snobbery of the creature turned me sick. I +asked a man afterwards why nobody kicked him, and was told that +Englishmen reverenced the weaker sex. +</P> + +<P> +Anyhow there he was now, nattily dressed, in a fine new car, obviously +on his way to visit some of his smart friends. A sudden daftness took +me, and in a second I had jumped into the tonneau and had him by the +shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +'Hullo, Jopley,' I sang out. 'Well met, my lad!' He got a horrid +fright. His chin dropped as he stared at me. 'Who the devil are YOU?' +he gasped. +</P> + +<P> +'My name's Hannay,' I said. 'From Rhodesia, you remember.' +</P> + +<P> +'Good God, the murderer!' he choked. +</P> + +<P> +'Just so. And there'll be a second murder, my dear, if you don't do as +I tell you. Give me that coat of yours. That cap, too.' +</P> + +<P> +He did as bid, for he was blind with terror. Over my dirty trousers +and vulgar shirt I put on his smart driving-coat, which buttoned high +at the top and thereby hid the deficiencies of my collar. I stuck the +cap on my head, and added his gloves to my get-up. The dusty roadman +in a minute was transformed into one of the neatest motorists in +Scotland. On Mr Jopley's head I clapped Turnbull's unspeakable hat, +and told him to keep it there. +</P> + +<P> +Then with some difficulty I turned the car. My plan was to go back the +road he had come, for the watchers, having seen it before, would +probably let it pass unremarked, and Marmie's figure was in no way like +mine. +</P> + +<P> +'Now, my child,' I said, 'sit quite still and be a good boy. I mean +you no harm. I'm only borrowing your car for an hour or two. But if +you play me any tricks, and above all if you open your mouth, as sure +as there's a God above me I'll wring your neck. SAVEZ?' +</P> + +<P> +I enjoyed that evening's ride. We ran eight miles down the valley, +through a village or two, and I could not help noticing several +strange-looking folk lounging by the roadside. These were the watchers +who would have had much to say to me if I had come in other garb or +company. As it was, they looked incuriously on. One touched his cap +in salute, and I responded graciously. +</P> + +<P> +As the dark fell I turned up a side glen which, as I remember from the +map, led into an unfrequented corner of the hills. Soon the villages +were left behind, then the farms, and then even the wayside cottage. +Presently we came to a lonely moor where the night was blackening the +sunset gleam in the bog pools. Here we stopped, and I obligingly +reversed the car and restored to Mr Jopley his belongings. +</P> + +<P> +'A thousand thanks,' I said. 'There's more use in you than I thought. +Now be off and find the police.' +</P> + +<P> +As I sat on the hillside, watching the tail-light dwindle, I reflected +on the various kinds of crime I had now sampled. Contrary to general +belief, I was not a murderer, but I had become an unholy liar, a +shameless impostor, and a highwayman with a marked taste for expensive +motor-cars. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap06"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER SIX +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist +</H3> + +<P> +I spent the night on a shelf of the hillside, in the lee of a boulder +where the heather grew long and soft. It was a cold business, for I +had neither coat nor waistcoat. These were in Mr Turnbull's keeping, +as was Scudder's little book, my watch and—worst of all—my pipe and +tobacco pouch. Only my money accompanied me in my belt, and about half +a pound of ginger biscuits in my trousers pocket. +</P> + +<P> +I supped off half those biscuits, and by worming myself deep into the +heather got some kind of warmth. My spirits had risen, and I was +beginning to enjoy this crazy game of hide-and-seek. So far I had been +miraculously lucky. The milkman, the literary innkeeper, Sir Harry, +the roadman, and the idiotic Marmie, were all pieces of undeserved good +fortune. Somehow the first success gave me a feeling that I was going +to pull the thing through. +</P> + +<P> +My chief trouble was that I was desperately hungry. When a Jew shoots +himself in the City and there is an inquest, the newspapers usually +report that the deceased was 'well-nourished'. I remember thinking +that they would not call me well-nourished if I broke my neck in a +bog-hole. I lay and tortured myself—for the ginger biscuits merely +emphasized the aching void—with the memory of all the good food I had +thought so little of in London. There were Paddock's crisp sausages +and fragrant shavings of bacon, and shapely poached eggs—how often I +had turned up my nose at them! There were the cutlets they did at the +club, and a particular ham that stood on the cold table, for which my +soul lusted. My thoughts hovered over all varieties of mortal edible, +and finally settled on a porterhouse steak and a quart of bitter with a +welsh rabbit to follow. In longing hopelessly for these dainties I +fell asleep. +</P> + +<P> +I woke very cold and stiff about an hour after dawn. It took me a +little while to remember where I was, for I had been very weary and had +slept heavily. I saw first the pale blue sky through a net of heather, +then a big shoulder of hill, and then my own boots placed neatly in a +blaeberry bush. I raised myself on my arms and looked down into the +valley, and that one look set me lacing up my boots in mad haste. +</P> + +<P> +For there were men below, not more than a quarter of a mile off, spaced +out on the hillside like a fan, and beating the heather. Marmie had +not been slow in looking for his revenge. +</P> + +<P> +I crawled out of my shelf into the cover of a boulder, and from it +gained a shallow trench which slanted up the mountain face. This led +me presently into the narrow gully of a burn, by way of which I +scrambled to the top of the ridge. From there I looked back, and saw +that I was still undiscovered. My pursuers were patiently quartering +the hillside and moving upwards. +</P> + +<P> +Keeping behind the skyline I ran for maybe half a mile, till I judged I +was above the uppermost end of the glen. Then I showed myself, and was +instantly noted by one of the flankers, who passed the word to the +others. I heard cries coming up from below, and saw that the line of +search had changed its direction. I pretended to retreat over the +skyline, but instead went back the way I had come, and in twenty +minutes was behind the ridge overlooking my sleeping place. From that +viewpoint I had the satisfaction of seeing the pursuit streaming up the +hill at the top of the glen on a hopelessly false scent. +</P> + +<P> +I had before me a choice of routes, and I chose a ridge which made an +angle with the one I was on, and so would soon put a deep glen between +me and my enemies. The exercise had warmed my blood, and I was +beginning to enjoy myself amazingly. As I went I breakfasted on the +dusty remnants of the ginger biscuits. +</P> + +<P> +I knew very little about the country, and I hadn't a notion what I was +going to do. I trusted to the strength of my legs, but I was well +aware that those behind me would be familiar with the lie of the land, +and that my ignorance would be a heavy handicap. I saw in front of me +a sea of hills, rising very high towards the south, but northwards +breaking down into broad ridges which separated wide and shallow dales. +The ridge I had chosen seemed to sink after a mile or two to a moor +which lay like a pocket in the uplands. That seemed as good a +direction to take as any other. +</P> + +<P> +My stratagem had given me a fair start—call it twenty minutes—and I +had the width of a glen behind me before I saw the first heads of the +pursuers. The police had evidently called in local talent to their +aid, and the men I could see had the appearance of herds or +gamekeepers. They hallooed at the sight of me, and I waved my hand. +Two dived into the glen and began to climb my ridge, while the others +kept their own side of the hill. I felt as if I were taking part in a +schoolboy game of hare and hounds. +</P> + +<P> +But very soon it began to seem less of a game. Those fellows behind +were hefty men on their native heath. Looking back I saw that only +three were following direct, and I guessed that the others had fetched +a circuit to cut me off. My lack of local knowledge might very well be +my undoing, and I resolved to get out of this tangle of glens to the +pocket of moor I had seen from the tops. I must so increase my +distance as to get clear away from them, and I believed I could do this +if I could find the right ground for it. If there had been cover I +would have tried a bit of stalking, but on these bare slopes you could +see a fly a mile off. My hope must be in the length of my legs and the +soundness of my wind, but I needed easier ground for that, for I was +not bred a mountaineer. How I longed for a good Afrikander pony! +</P> + +<P> +I put on a great spurt and got off my ridge and down into the moor +before any figures appeared on the skyline behind me. I crossed a +burn, and came out on a highroad which made a pass between two glens. +All in front of me was a big field of heather sloping up to a crest +which was crowned with an odd feather of trees. In the dyke by the +roadside was a gate, from which a grass-grown track led over the first +wave of the moor. +</P> + +<P> +I jumped the dyke and followed it, and after a few hundred yards—as +soon as it was out of sight of the highway—the grass stopped and it +became a very respectable road, which was evidently kept with some +care. Clearly it ran to a house, and I began to think of doing the +same. Hitherto my luck had held, and it might be that my best chance +would be found in this remote dwelling. Anyhow there were trees there, +and that meant cover. +</P> + +<P> +I did not follow the road, but the burnside which flanked it on the +right, where the bracken grew deep and the high banks made a tolerable +screen. It was well I did so, for no sooner had I gained the hollow +than, looking back, I saw the pursuit topping the ridge from which I +had descended. +</P> + +<P> +After that I did not look back; I had no time. I ran up the burnside, +crawling over the open places, and for a large part wading in the +shallow stream. I found a deserted cottage with a row of phantom +peat-stacks and an overgrown garden. Then I was among young hay, and +very soon had come to the edge of a plantation of wind-blown firs. +From there I saw the chimneys of the house smoking a few hundred yards +to my left. I forsook the burnside, crossed another dyke, and almost +before I knew was on a rough lawn. A glance back told me that I was +well out of sight of the pursuit, which had not yet passed the first +lift of the moor. +</P> + +<P> +The lawn was a very rough place, cut with a scythe instead of a mower, +and planted with beds of scrubby rhododendrons. A brace of black-game, +which are not usually garden birds, rose at my approach. The house +before me was the ordinary moorland farm, with a more pretentious +whitewashed wing added. Attached to this wing was a glass veranda, and +through the glass I saw the face of an elderly gentleman meekly +watching me. +</P> + +<P> +I stalked over the border of coarse hill gravel and entered the open +veranda door. Within was a pleasant room, glass on one side, and on +the other a mass of books. More books showed in an inner room. On the +floor, instead of tables, stood cases such as you see in a museum, +filled with coins and queer stone implements. +</P> + +<P> +There was a knee-hole desk in the middle, and seated at it, with some +papers and open volumes before him, was the benevolent old gentleman. +His face was round and shiny, like Mr Pickwick's, big glasses were +stuck on the end of his nose, and the top of his head was as bright and +bare as a glass bottle. He never moved when I entered, but raised his +placid eyebrows and waited on me to speak. +</P> + +<P> +It was not an easy job, with about five minutes to spare, to tell a +stranger who I was and what I wanted, and to win his aid. I did not +attempt it. There was something about the eye of the man before me, +something so keen and knowledgeable, that I could not find a word. I +simply stared at him and stuttered. +</P> + +<P> +'You seem in a hurry, my friend,' he said slowly. +</P> + +<P> +I nodded towards the window. It gave a prospect across the moor +through a gap in the plantation, and revealed certain figures half a +mile off straggling through the heather. +</P> + +<P> +'Ah, I see,' he said, and took up a pair of field-glasses through which +he patiently scrutinized the figures. +</P> + +<P> +'A fugitive from justice, eh? Well, we'll go into the matter at our +leisure. Meantime I object to my privacy being broken in upon by the +clumsy rural policeman. Go into my study, and you will see two doors +facing you. Take the one on the left and close it behind you. You +will be perfectly safe.' +</P> + +<P> +And this extraordinary man took up his pen again. +</P> + +<P> +I did as I was bid, and found myself in a little dark chamber which +smelt of chemicals, and was lit only by a tiny window high up in the +wall. The door had swung behind me with a click like the door of a +safe. Once again I had found an unexpected sanctuary. +</P> + +<P> +All the same I was not comfortable. There was something about the old +gentleman which puzzled and rather terrified me. He had been too easy +and ready, almost as if he had expected me. And his eyes had been +horribly intelligent. +</P> + +<P> +No sound came to me in that dark place. For all I knew the police +might be searching the house, and if they did they would want to know +what was behind this door. I tried to possess my soul in patience, and +to forget how hungry I was. +</P> + +<P> +Then I took a more cheerful view. The old gentleman could scarcely +refuse me a meal, and I fell to reconstructing my breakfast. Bacon and +eggs would content me, but I wanted the better part of a flitch of +bacon and half a hundred eggs. And then, while my mouth was watering +in anticipation, there was a click and the door stood open. +</P> + +<P> +I emerged into the sunlight to find the master of the house sitting in +a deep armchair in the room he called his study, and regarding me with +curious eyes. +</P> + +<P> +'Have they gone?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'They have gone. I convinced them that you had crossed the hill. I do +not choose that the police should come between me and one whom I am +delighted to honour. This is a lucky morning for you, Mr Richard +Hannay.' +</P> + +<P> +As he spoke his eyelids seemed to tremble and to fall a little over his +keen grey eyes. In a flash the phrase of Scudder's came back to me, +when he had described the man he most dreaded in the world. He had +said that he 'could hood his eyes like a hawk'. Then I saw that I had +walked straight into the enemy's headquarters. +</P> + +<P> +My first impulse was to throttle the old ruffian and make for the open +air. He seemed to anticipate my intention, for he smiled gently, and +nodded to the door behind me. +</P> + +<P> +I turned, and saw two men-servants who had me covered with pistols. +</P> + +<P> +He knew my name, but he had never seen me before. And as the +reflection darted across my mind I saw a slender chance. +</P> + +<P> +'I don't know what you mean,' I said roughly. 'And who are you calling +Richard Hannay? My name's Ainslie.' +</P> + +<P> +'So?' he said, still smiling. 'But of course you have others. We +won't quarrel about a name.' +</P> + +<P> +I was pulling myself together now, and I reflected that my garb, +lacking coat and waistcoat and collar, would at any rate not betray me. +I put on my surliest face and shrugged my shoulders. +</P> + +<P> +'I suppose you're going to give me up after all, and I call it a damned +dirty trick. My God, I wish I had never seen that cursed motor-car! +Here's the money and be damned to you,' and I flung four sovereigns on +the table. +</P> + +<P> +He opened his eyes a little. 'Oh no, I shall not give you up. My +friends and I will have a little private settlement with you, that is +all. You know a little too much, Mr Hannay. You are a clever actor, +but not quite clever enough.' +</P> + +<P> +He spoke with assurance, but I could see the dawning of a doubt in his +mind. +</P> + +<P> +'Oh, for God's sake stop jawing,' I cried. 'Everything's against me. +I haven't had a bit of luck since I came on shore at Leith. What's the +harm in a poor devil with an empty stomach picking up some money he +finds in a bust-up motor-car? That's all I done, and for that I've +been chivvied for two days by those blasted bobbies over those blasted +hills. I tell you I'm fair sick of it. You can do what you like, old +boy! Ned Ainslie's got no fight left in him.' +</P> + +<P> +I could see that the doubt was gaining. +</P> + +<P> +'Will you oblige me with the story of your recent doings?' he asked.</P> + +<P>'I can't, guv'nor,' I said in a real beggar's whine. 'I've not had a bite +to eat for two days. Give me a mouthful of food, and then you'll hear +God's truth.' +</P> + +<P> +I must have showed my hunger in my face, for he signalled to one of the +men in the doorway. A bit of cold pie was brought and a glass of beer, +and I wolfed them down like a pig—or rather, like Ned Ainslie, for I +was keeping up my character. In the middle of my meal he spoke +suddenly to me in German, but I turned on him a face as blank as a +stone wall. +</P> + +<P> +Then I told him my story—how I had come off an Archangel ship at Leith +a week ago, and was making my way overland to my brother at Wigtown. I +had run short of cash—I hinted vaguely at a spree—and I was pretty +well on my uppers when I had come on a hole in a hedge, and, looking +through, had seen a big motor-car lying in the burn. I had poked about +to see what had happened, and had found three sovereigns lying on the +seat and one on the floor. There was nobody there or any sign of an +owner, so I had pocketed the cash. But somehow the law had got after +me. When I had tried to change a sovereign in a baker's shop, the +woman had cried on the police, and a little later, when I was washing +my face in a burn, I had been nearly gripped, and had only got away by +leaving my coat and waistcoat behind me. +</P> + +<P> +'They can have the money back,' I cried, 'for a fat lot of good it's +done me. Those perishers are all down on a poor man. Now, if it had +been you, guv'nor, that had found the quids, nobody would have troubled +you.' +</P> + +<P> +'You're a good liar, Hannay,' he said. +</P> + +<P> +I flew into a rage. 'Stop fooling, damn you! I tell you my name's +Ainslie, and I never heard of anyone called Hannay in my born days. +I'd sooner have the police than you with your Hannays and your +monkey-faced pistol tricks ... No, guv'nor, I beg pardon, I don't mean +that. I'm much obliged to you for the grub, and I'll thank you to let +me go now the coast's clear.' +</P> + +<P> +It was obvious that he was badly puzzled. You see he had never seen +me, and my appearance must have altered considerably from my +photographs, if he had got one of them. I was pretty smart and well +dressed in London, and now I was a regular tramp. +</P> + +<P> +'I do not propose to let you go. If you are what you say you are, you +will soon have a chance of clearing yourself. If you are what I +believe you are, I do not think you will see the light much longer.' +</P> + +<P> +He rang a bell, and a third servant appeared from the veranda. +</P> + +<P> +'I want the Lanchester in five minutes,' he said. 'There will be three +to luncheon.' +</P> + +<P> +Then he looked steadily at me, and that was the hardest ordeal of all. +</P> + +<P> +There was something weird and devilish in those eyes, cold, malignant, +unearthly, and most hellishly clever. They fascinated me like the +bright eyes of a snake. I had a strong impulse to throw myself on his +mercy and offer to join his side, and if you consider the way I felt +about the whole thing you will see that that impulse must have been +purely physical, the weakness of a brain mesmerized and mastered by a +stronger spirit. But I managed to stick it out and even to grin. +</P> + +<P> +'You'll know me next time, guv'nor,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +'Karl,' he spoke in German to one of the men in the doorway, 'you will +put this fellow in the storeroom till I return, and you will be +answerable to me for his keeping.' +</P> + +<P> +I was marched out of the room with a pistol at each ear. +</P> + +<P> +The storeroom was a damp chamber in what had been the old farmhouse. +There was no carpet on the uneven floor, and nothing to sit down on but +a school form. It was black as pitch, for the windows were heavily +shuttered. I made out by groping that the walls were lined with boxes +and barrels and sacks of some heavy stuff. The whole place smelt of +mould and disuse. My gaolers turned the key in the door, and I could +hear them shifting their feet as they stood on guard outside. +</P> + +<P> +I sat down in that chilly darkness in a very miserable frame of mind. +The old boy had gone off in a motor to collect the two ruffians who had +interviewed me yesterday. Now, they had seen me as the roadman, and +they would remember me, for I was in the same rig. What was a roadman +doing twenty miles from his beat, pursued by the police? A question or +two would put them on the track. Probably they had seen Mr Turnbull, +probably Marmie too; most likely they could link me up with Sir Harry, +and then the whole thing would be crystal clear. What chance had I in +this moorland house with three desperadoes and their armed servants? +</P> + +<P> +I began to think wistfully of the police, now plodding over the hills +after my wraith. They at any rate were fellow-countrymen and honest +men, and their tender mercies would be kinder than these ghoulish +aliens. But they wouldn't have listened to me. That old devil with +the eyelids had not taken long to get rid of them. I thought he +probably had some kind of graft with the constabulary. Most likely he +had letters from Cabinet Ministers saying he was to be given every +facility for plotting against Britain. That's the sort of owlish way +we run our politics in the Old Country. +</P> + +<P> +The three would be back for lunch, so I hadn't more than a couple of +hours to wait. It was simply waiting on destruction, for I could see +no way out of this mess. I wished that I had Scudder's courage, for I +am free to confess I didn't feel any great fortitude. The only thing +that kept me going was that I was pretty furious. It made me boil with +rage to think of those three spies getting the pull on me like this. I +hoped that at any rate I might be able to twist one of their necks +before they downed me. +</P> + +<P> +The more I thought of it the angrier I grew, and I had to get up and +move about the room. I tried the shutters, but they were the kind that +lock with a key, and I couldn't move them. From the outside came the +faint clucking of hens in the warm sun. Then I groped among the sacks +and boxes. I couldn't open the latter, and the sacks seemed to be full +of things like dog-biscuits that smelt of cinnamon. But, as I +circumnavigated the room, I found a handle in the wall which seemed +worth investigating. +</P> + +<P> +It was the door of a wall cupboard—what they call a 'press' in +Scotland—and it was locked. I shook it, and it seemed rather flimsy. +For want of something better to do I put out my strength on that door, +getting some purchase on the handle by looping my braces round it. +Presently the thing gave with a crash which I thought would bring in my +warders to inquire. I waited for a bit, and then started to explore +the cupboard shelves. +</P> + +<P> +There was a multitude of queer things there. I found an odd vesta or +two in my trouser pockets and struck a light. It was out in a second, +but it showed me one thing. There was a little stock of electric +torches on one shelf. I picked up one, and found it was in working +order. +</P> + +<P> +With the torch to help me I investigated further. There were bottles +and cases of queer-smelling stuffs, chemicals no doubt for experiments, +and there were coils of fine copper wire and yanks and yanks of thin +oiled silk. There was a box of detonators, and a lot of cord for +fuses. Then away at the back of the shelf I found a stout brown +cardboard box, and inside it a wooden case. I managed to wrench it +open, and within lay half a dozen little grey bricks, each a couple of +inches square. +</P> + +<P> +I took up one, and found that it crumbled easily in my hand. Then I +smelt it and put my tongue to it. After that I sat down to think. I +hadn't been a mining engineer for nothing, and I knew lentonite when I +saw it. +</P> + +<P> +With one of these bricks I could blow the house to smithereens. I had +used the stuff in Rhodesia and knew its power. But the trouble was +that my knowledge wasn't exact. I had forgotten the proper charge and +the right way of preparing it, and I wasn't sure about the timing. I +had only a vague notion, too, as to its power, for though I had used it +I had not handled it with my own fingers. +</P> + +<P> +But it was a chance, the only possible chance. It was a mighty risk, +but against it was an absolute black certainty. If I used it the odds +were, as I reckoned, about five to one in favour of my blowing myself +into the tree-tops; but if I didn't I should very likely be occupying a +six-foot hole in the garden by the evening. That was the way I had to +look at it. The prospect was pretty dark either way, but anyhow there +was a chance, both for myself and for my country. +</P> + +<P> +The remembrance of little Scudder decided me. It was about the +beastliest moment of my life, for I'm no good at these cold-blooded +resolutions. Still I managed to rake up the pluck to set my teeth and +choke back the horrid doubts that flooded in on me. I simply shut off +my mind and pretended I was doing an experiment as simple as Guy Fawkes +fireworks. +</P> + +<P> +I got a detonator, and fixed it to a couple of feet of fuse. Then I +took a quarter of a lentonite brick, and buried it near the door below +one of the sacks in a crack of the floor, fixing the detonator in it. +For all I knew half those boxes might be dynamite. If the cupboard +held such deadly explosives, why not the boxes? In that case there +would be a glorious skyward journey for me and the German servants and +about an acre of surrounding country. There was also the risk that the +detonation might set off the other bricks in the cupboard, for I had +forgotten most that I knew about lentonite. But it didn't do to begin +thinking about the possibilities. The odds were horrible, but I had to +take them. +</P> + +<P> +I ensconced myself just below the sill of the window, and lit the fuse. +Then I waited for a moment or two. There was dead silence—only a +shuffle of heavy boots in the passage, and the peaceful cluck of hens +from the warm out-of-doors. I commended my soul to my Maker, and +wondered where I would be in five seconds ... +</P> + +<P> +A great wave of heat seemed to surge upwards from the floor, and hang +for a blistering instant in the air. Then the wall opposite me flashed +into a golden yellow and dissolved with a rending thunder that hammered +my brain into a pulp. Something dropped on me, catching the point of +my left shoulder. +</P> + +<P> +And then I think I became unconscious. +</P> + +<P> +My stupor can scarcely have lasted beyond a few seconds. I felt myself +being choked by thick yellow fumes, and struggled out of the debris to +my feet. Somewhere behind me I felt fresh air. The jambs of the +window had fallen, and through the ragged rent the smoke was pouring +out to the summer noon. I stepped over the broken lintel, and found +myself standing in a yard in a dense and acrid fog. I felt very sick +and ill, but I could move my limbs, and I staggered blindly forward +away from the house. +</P> + +<P> +A small mill-lade ran in a wooden aqueduct at the other side of the +yard, and into this I fell. The cool water revived me, and I had just +enough wits left to think of escape. I squirmed up the lade among the +slippery green slime till I reached the mill-wheel. Then I wriggled +through the axle hole into the old mill and tumbled on to a bed of +chaff. A nail caught the seat of my trousers, and I left a wisp of +heather-mixture behind me. +</P> + +<P> +The mill had been long out of use. The ladders were rotten with age, +and in the loft the rats had gnawed great holes in the floor. Nausea +shook me, and a wheel in my head kept turning, while my left shoulder +and arm seemed to be stricken with the palsy. I looked out of the +window and saw a fog still hanging over the house and smoke escaping +from an upper window. Please God I had set the place on fire, for I +could hear confused cries coming from the other side. +</P> + +<P> +But I had no time to linger, since this mill was obviously a bad +hiding-place. Anyone looking for me would naturally follow the lade, +and I made certain the search would begin as soon as they found that my +body was not in the storeroom. From another window I saw that on the +far side of the mill stood an old stone dovecot. If I could get there +without leaving tracks I might find a hiding-place, for I argued that +my enemies, if they thought I could move, would conclude I had made for +open country, and would go seeking me on the moor. +</P> + +<P> +I crawled down the broken ladder, scattering chaff behind me to cover +my footsteps. I did the same on the mill floor, and on the threshold +where the door hung on broken hinges. Peeping out, I saw that between +me and the dovecot was a piece of bare cobbled ground, where no +footmarks would show. Also it was mercifully hid by the mill buildings +from any view from the house. I slipped across the space, got to the +back of the dovecot and prospected a way of ascent. +</P> + +<P> +That was one of the hardest jobs I ever took on. My shoulder and arm +ached like hell, and I was so sick and giddy that I was always on the +verge of falling. But I managed it somehow. By the use of out-jutting +stones and gaps in the masonry and a tough ivy root I got to the top in +the end. There was a little parapet behind which I found space to lie +down. Then I proceeded to go off into an old-fashioned swoon. +</P> + +<P> +I woke with a burning head and the sun glaring in my face. For a long +time I lay motionless, for those horrible fumes seemed to have loosened +my joints and dulled my brain. Sounds came to me from the house—men +speaking throatily and the throbbing of a stationary car. There was a +little gap in the parapet to which I wriggled, and from which I had +some sort of prospect of the yard. I saw figures come out—a servant +with his head bound up, and then a younger man in knickerbockers. They +were looking for something, and moved towards the mill. Then one of +them caught sight of the wisp of cloth on the nail, and cried out to +the other. They both went back to the house, and brought two more to +look at it. I saw the rotund figure of my late captor, and I thought I +made out the man with the lisp. I noticed that all had pistols. +</P> + +<P> +For half an hour they ransacked the mill. I could hear them kicking +over the barrels and pulling up the rotten planking. Then they came +outside, and stood just below the dovecot arguing fiercely. The +servant with the bandage was being soundly rated. I heard them +fiddling with the door of the dovecote and for one horrid moment I +fancied they were coming up. Then they thought better of it, and went +back to the house. +</P> + +<P> +All that long blistering afternoon I lay baking on the rooftop. Thirst +was my chief torment. My tongue was like a stick, and to make it worse +I could hear the cool drip of water from the mill-lade. I watched the +course of the little stream as it came in from the moor, and my fancy +followed it to the top of the glen, where it must issue from an icy +fountain fringed with cool ferns and mosses. I would have given a +thousand pounds to plunge my face into that. +</P> + +<P> +I had a fine prospect of the whole ring of moorland. I saw the car +speed away with two occupants, and a man on a hill pony riding east. I +judged they were looking for me, and I wished them joy of their quest. +</P> + +<P> +But I saw something else more interesting. The house stood almost on +the summit of a swell of moorland which crowned a sort of plateau, and +there was no higher point nearer than the big hills six miles off. The +actual summit, as I have mentioned, was a biggish clump of trees—firs +mostly, with a few ashes and beeches. On the dovecot I was almost on a +level with the tree-tops, and could see what lay beyond. The wood was +not solid, but only a ring, and inside was an oval of green turf, for +all the world like a big cricket-field. +</P> + +<P> +I didn't take long to guess what it was. It was an aerodrome, and a +secret one. The place had been most cunningly chosen. For suppose +anyone were watching an aeroplane descending here, he would think it +had gone over the hill beyond the trees. As the place was on the top +of a rise in the midst of a big amphitheatre, any observer from any +direction would conclude it had passed out of view behind the hill. +Only a man very close at hand would realize that the aeroplane had not +gone over but had descended in the midst of the wood. An observer with +a telescope on one of the higher hills might have discovered the truth, +but only herds went there, and herds do not carry spy-glasses. When I +looked from the dovecot I could see far away a blue line which I knew +was the sea, and I grew furious to think that our enemies had this +secret conning-tower to rake our waterways. +</P> + +<P> +Then I reflected that if that aeroplane came back the chances were ten +to one that I would be discovered. So through the afternoon I lay and +prayed for the coming of darkness, and glad I was when the sun went +down over the big western hills and the twilight haze crept over the +moor. The aeroplane was late. The gloaming was far advanced when I +heard the beat of wings and saw it volplaning downward to its home in +the wood. Lights twinkled for a bit and there was much coming and +going from the house. Then the dark fell, and silence. +</P> + +<P> +Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last quarter +and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow me to +tarry, so about nine o'clock, so far as I could judge, I started to +descend. It wasn't easy, and half-way down I heard the back door of +the house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill wall. +For some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed that whoever it +was would not come round by the dovecot. Then the light disappeared, +and I dropped as softly as I could on to the hard soil of the yard. +</P> + +<P> +I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the +fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to do +it I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I +realized that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty +certain that there would be some kind of defence round the house, so I +went through the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully every inch +before me. It was as well, for presently I came on a wire about two +feet from the ground. If I had tripped over that, it would doubtless +have rung some bell in the house and I would have been captured. +</P> + +<P> +A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly placed on the +edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and in five minutes +I was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was round the shoulder of +the rise, in the little glen from which the mill-lade flowed. Ten +minutes later my face was in the spring, and I was soaking down pints +of the blessed water. +</P> + +<P> +But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me and +that accursed dwelling. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap07"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER SEVEN +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Dry-Fly Fisherman +</H3> + +<P> +I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn't +feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was +clouded by my severe bodily discomfort. Those lentonite fumes had +fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn't helped +matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat. Also +my shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a bruise, +but it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm. +</P> + +<P> +My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull's cottage, recover my garments, and +especially Scudder's note-book, and then make for the main line and get +back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I got in touch with +the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the better. I didn't see +how I could get more proof than I had got already. He must just take +or leave my story, and anyway, with him I would be in better hands than +those devilish Germans. I had begun to feel quite kindly towards the +British police. +</P> + +<P> +It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty about +the road. Sir Harry's map had given me the lie of the land, and all I +had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west to come to the +stream where I had met the roadman. In all these travels I never knew +the names of the places, but I believe this stream was no less than the +upper waters of the river Tweed. I calculated I must be about eighteen +miles distant, and that meant I could not get there before morning. So +I must lie up a day somewhere, for I was too outrageous a figure to be +seen in the sunlight. I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, +my trousers were badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the +explosion. I daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they +were furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for +God-fearing citizens to see on a highroad. +</P> + +<P> +Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a hill +burn, and then approached a herd's cottage, for I was feeling the need +of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was alone, with no +neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body, and a plucky one, +for though she got a fright when she saw me, she had an axe handy, and +would have used it on any evil-doer. I told her that I had had a +fall—I didn't say how—and she saw by my looks that I was pretty sick. +Like a true Samaritan she asked no questions, but gave me a bowl of +milk with a dash of whisky in it, and let me sit for a little by her +kitchen fire. She would have bathed my shoulder, but it ached so badly +that I would not let her touch it. +</P> + +<P> +I don't know what she took me for—a repentant burglar, perhaps; for +when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a sovereign which +was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head and said something +about 'giving it to them that had a right to it'. At this I protested +so strongly that I think she believed me honest, for she took the money +and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and an old hat of her man's. She +showed me how to wrap the plaid around my shoulders, and when I left +that cottage I was the living image of the kind of Scotsman you see in +the illustrations to Burns's poems. But at any rate I was more or less +clad. +</P> + +<P> +It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick +drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the +crook of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable bed. +There I managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped and +wretched, with my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the oatcake +and cheese the old wife had given me and set out again just before the +darkening. +</P> + +<P> +I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There were +no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my memory +of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty falls into +peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow flies, but my +mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was completed with set +teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I managed it, and in the +early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull's door. The mist lay close +and thick, and from the cottage I could not see the highroad. +</P> + +<P> +Mr Turnbull himself opened to me—sober and something more than sober. +He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended suit of black; he +had been shaved not later than the night before; he wore a linen +collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible. At first he +did not recognize me. +</P> + +<P> +'Whae are ye that comes stravaigin' here on the Sabbath mornin'?' he +asked. +</P> + +<P> +I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason for +this strange decorum. +</P> + +<P> +My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a coherent +answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill. +</P> + +<P> +'Hae ye got my specs?' he asked. +</P> + +<P> +I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them. +</P> + +<P> +'Ye'll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,' he said. 'Come in-bye. +Losh, man, ye're terrible dune i' the legs. Haud up till I get ye to a +chair.' +</P> + +<P> +I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of fever +in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my shoulder +and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel pretty bad. +Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with my clothes, and +putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that lined the kitchen +walls. +</P> + +<P> +He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was dead +years ago, and since his daughter's marriage he lived alone. +</P> + +<P> +For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I needed. +I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its course, +and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had more or less +cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and though I was out of +bed in five days, it took me some time to get my legs again. +</P> + +<P> +He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and locking the +door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit silent in the +chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When I was getting +better, he never bothered me with a question. Several times he fetched +me a two days' old <i>Scotsman</i>, and I noticed that the interest in the +Portland Place murder seemed to have died down. There was no mention +of it, and I could find very little about anything except a thing +called the General Assembly—some ecclesiastical spree, I gathered. +</P> + +<P> +One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. 'There's a +terrible heap o' siller in't,' he said. 'Ye'd better coont it to see +it's a' there.' +</P> + +<P> +He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had been around +making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making. +</P> + +<P> +'Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta'en my +place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on at +me, and syne I said he maun be thinkin' o' my gude-brither frae the +Cleuch that whiles lent me a haun'. He was a wersh-lookin' sowl, and I +couldna understand the half o' his English tongue.' +</P> + +<P> +I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself +fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June, +and as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking some +cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of Turnbull's, +and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to take me with him. +</P> + +<P> +I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard job I had +of it. There never was a more independent being. He grew positively +rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and took the money at last +without a thank you. When I told him how much I owed him, he grunted +something about 'ae guid turn deservin' anither'. You would have +thought from our leave-taking that we had parted in disgust. +</P> + +<P> +Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass and +down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets and sheep +prices, and he made up his mind I was a 'pack-shepherd' from those +parts—whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat, as I have said, +gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving cattle is a mortally +slow job, and we took the better part of the day to cover a dozen miles. +</P> + +<P> +If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that time. +It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing prospect of +brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual sound of larks and +curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind for the summer, and +little for Hislop's conversation, for as the fateful fifteenth of June +drew near I was overweighed with the hopeless difficulties of my +enterprise. +</P> + +<P> +I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked the two +miles to the junction on the main line. The night express for the +south was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time I went up +on the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me. I all but +slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the train with +two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class cushions and +the smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully. At any rate, I +felt now that I was getting to grips with my job. +</P> + +<P> +I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to +get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and +changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire. +Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow reedy streams. +About eight o'clock in the evening, a weary and travel-stained being—a +cross between a farm-labourer and a vet—with a checked black-and-white +plaid over his arm (for I did not dare to wear it south of the Border), +descended at the little station of Artinswell. There were several +people on the platform, and I thought I had better wait to ask my way +till I was clear of the place. +</P> + +<P> +The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a shallow +valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the distant trees. +After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but infinitely sweet, for +the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes of blossom. +Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow stream flowed +between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little above it was a mill; +and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in the scented dusk. Somehow +the place soothed me and put me at my ease. I fell to whistling as I +looked into the green depths, and the tune which came to my lips was +'Annie Laurie'. +</P> + +<P> +A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he too +began to whistle. The tune was infectious, for he followed my suit. +He was a huge man in untidy old flannels and a wide-brimmed hat, with a +canvas bag slung on his shoulder. He nodded to me, and I thought I had +never seen a shrewder or better-tempered face. He leaned his delicate +ten-foot split-cane rod against the bridge, and looked with me at the +water. +</P> + +<P> +'Clear, isn't it?' he said pleasantly. 'I back our Kenner any day +against the Test. Look at that big fellow. Four pounds if he's an +ounce. But the evening rise is over and you can't tempt 'em.' +</P> + +<P> +'I don't see him,' said I. +</P> + +<P> +'Look! There! A yard from the reeds just above that stickle.' +</P> + +<P> +'I've got him now. You might swear he was a black stone.' +</P> + +<P> +'So,' he said, and whistled another bar of 'Annie Laurie'. +</P> + +<P> +'Twisdon's the name, isn't it?' he said over his shoulder, his eyes +still fixed on the stream. +</P> + +<P> +'No,' I said. 'I mean to say, Yes.' I had forgotten all about my +alias. +</P> + +<P> +'It's a wise conspirator that knows his own name,' he observed, +grinning broadly at a moor-hen that emerged from the bridge's shadow. +</P> + +<P> +I stood up and looked at him, at the square, cleft jaw and broad, lined +brow and the firm folds of cheek, and began to think that here at last +was an ally worth having. His whimsical blue eyes seemed to go very +deep. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly he frowned. 'I call it disgraceful,' he said, raising his +voice. 'Disgraceful that an able-bodied man like you should dare to +beg. You can get a meal from my kitchen, but you'll get no money from +me.' +</P> + +<P> +A dog-cart was passing, driven by a young man who raised his whip to +salute the fisherman. When he had gone, he picked up his rod. +</P> + +<P> +'That's my house,' he said, pointing to a white gate a hundred yards +on. 'Wait five minutes and then go round to the back door.' And with +that he left me. +</P> + +<P> +I did as I was bidden. I found a pretty cottage with a lawn running +down to the stream, and a perfect jungle of guelder-rose and lilac +flanking the path. The back door stood open, and a grave butler was +awaiting me. +</P> + +<P> +'Come this way, Sir,' he said, and he led me along a passage and up a +back staircase to a pleasant bedroom looking towards the river. There +I found a complete outfit laid out for me—dress clothes with all the +fixings, a brown flannel suit, shirts, collars, ties, shaving things +and hair-brushes, even a pair of patent shoes. 'Sir Walter thought as +how Mr Reggie's things would fit you, Sir,' said the butler. 'He keeps +some clothes 'ere, for he comes regular on the week-ends. There's a +bathroom next door, and I've prepared a 'ot bath. Dinner in 'alf an +hour, Sir. You'll 'ear the gong.' +</P> + +<P> +The grave being withdrew, and I sat down in a chintz-covered easy-chair +and gaped. It was like a pantomime, to come suddenly out of beggardom +into this orderly comfort. Obviously Sir Walter believed in me, though +why he did I could not guess. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw +a wild, haggard brown fellow, with a fortnight's ragged beard, and dust +in ears and eyes, collarless, vulgarly shirted, with shapeless old +tweed clothes and boots that had not been cleaned for the better part +of a month. I made a fine tramp and a fair drover; and here I was +ushered by a prim butler into this temple of gracious ease. And the +best of it was that they did not even know my name. +</P> + +<P> +I resolved not to puzzle my head but to take the gifts the gods had +provided. I shaved and bathed luxuriously, and got into the dress +clothes and clean crackling shirt, which fitted me not so badly. By +the time I had finished the looking-glass showed a not unpersonable +young man. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little round table +was lit with silver candles. The sight of him—so respectable and +established and secure, the embodiment of law and government and all +the conventions—took me aback and made me feel an interloper. He +couldn't know the truth about me, or he wouldn't treat me like this. I +simply could not accept his hospitality on false pretences. +</P> + +<P> +'I'm more obliged to you than I can say, but I'm bound to make things +clear,' I said. 'I'm an innocent man, but I'm wanted by the police. +I've got to tell you this, and I won't be surprised if you kick me out.' +</P> + +<P> +He smiled. 'That's all right. Don't let that interfere with your +appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.' I never ate a +meal with greater relish, for I had had nothing all day but railway +sandwiches. Sir Walter did me proud, for we drank a good champagne and +had some uncommon fine port afterwards. It made me almost hysterical +to be sitting there, waited on by a footman and a sleek butler, and +remember that I had been living for three weeks like a brigand, with +every man's hand against me. I told Sir Walter about tiger-fish in the +Zambesi that bite off your fingers if you give them a chance, and we +discussed sport up and down the globe, for he had hunted a bit in his +day. +</P> + +<P> +We went to his study for coffee, a jolly room full of books and +trophies and untidiness and comfort. I made up my mind that if ever I +got rid of this business and had a house of my own, I would create just +such a room. Then when the coffee-cups were cleared away, and we had +got our cigars alight, my host swung his long legs over the side of his +chair and bade me get started with my yarn. +</P> + +<P> +'I've obeyed Harry's instructions,' he said, 'and the bribe he offered +me was that you would tell me something to wake me up. I'm ready, Mr +Hannay.' +</P> + +<P> +I noticed with a start that he called me by my proper name. +</P> + +<P> +I began at the very beginning. I told of my boredom in London, and the +night I had come back to find Scudder gibbering on my doorstep. I told +him all Scudder had told me about Karolides and the Foreign Office +conference, and that made him purse his lips and grin. +</P> + +<P> +Then I got to the murder, and he grew solemn again. He heard all about +the milkman and my time in Galloway, and my deciphering Scudder's notes +at the inn. +</P> + +<P> +'You've got them here?' he asked sharply, and drew a long breath when I +whipped the little book from my pocket. +</P> + +<P> +I said nothing of the contents. Then I described my meeting with Sir +Harry, and the speeches at the hall. At that he laughed uproariously. +</P> + +<P> +'Harry talked dashed nonsense, did he? I quite believe it. He's as +good a chap as ever breathed, but his idiot of an uncle has stuffed his +head with maggots. Go on, Mr Hannay.' +</P> + +<P> +My day as roadman excited him a bit. He made me describe the two +fellows in the car very closely, and seemed to be raking back in his +memory. He grew merry again when he heard of the fate of that ass +Jopley. +</P> + +<P> +But the old man in the moorland house solemnized him. Again I had to +describe every detail of his appearance. +</P> + +<P> +'Bland and bald-headed and hooded his eyes like a bird ... He sounds a +sinister wild-fowl! And you dynamited his hermitage, after he had +saved you from the police. Spirited piece of work, that!' Presently I +reached the end of my wanderings. He got up slowly, and looked down at +me from the hearth-rug. +</P> + +<P> +'You may dismiss the police from your mind,' he said. 'You're in no +danger from the law of this land.' +</P> + +<P> +'Great Scot!' I cried. 'Have they got the murderer?' +</P> + +<P> +'No. But for the last fortnight they have dropped you from the list of +possibles.' +</P> + +<P> +'Why?' I asked in amazement. +</P> + +<P> +'Principally because I received a letter from Scudder. I knew +something of the man, and he did several jobs for me. He was half +crank, half genius, but he was wholly honest. The trouble about him +was his partiality for playing a lone hand. That made him pretty well +useless in any Secret Service—a pity, for he had uncommon gifts. I +think he was the bravest man in the world, for he was always shivering +with fright, and yet nothing would choke him off. I had a letter from +him on the 31st of May.' +</P> + +<P> +'But he had been dead a week by then.' +</P> + +<P> +'The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. He evidently did not +anticipate an immediate decease. His communications usually took a +week to reach me, for they were sent under cover to Spain and then to +Newcastle. He had a mania, you know, for concealing his tracks.' +</P> + +<P> +'What did he say?' I stammered. +</P> + +<P> +'Nothing. Merely that he was in danger, but had found shelter with a +good friend, and that I would hear from him before the 15th of June. +He gave me no address, but said he was living near Portland Place. I +think his object was to clear you if anything happened. When I got it +I went to Scotland Yard, went over the details of the inquest, and +concluded that you were the friend. We made inquiries about you, Mr +Hannay, and found you were respectable. I thought I knew the motives +for your disappearance—not only the police, the other one too—and +when I got Harry's scrawl I guessed at the rest. I have been expecting +you any time this past week.' You can imagine what a load this took off +my mind. I felt a free man once more, for I was now up against my +country's enemies only, and not my country's law. +</P> + +<P> +'Now let us have the little note-book,' said Sir Walter. +</P> + +<P> +It took us a good hour to work through it. I explained the cypher, and +he was jolly quick at picking it up. He emended my reading of it on +several points, but I had been fairly correct, on the whole. His face +was very grave before he had finished, and he sat silent for a while. +</P> + +<P> +'I don't know what to make of it,' he said at last. 'He is right about +one thing—what is going to happen the day after tomorrow. How the +devil can it have got known? That is ugly enough in itself. But all +this about war and the Black Stone—it reads like some wild melodrama. +If only I had more confidence in Scudder's judgement. The trouble +about him was that he was too romantic. He had the artistic +temperament, and wanted a story to be better than God meant it to be. +He had a lot of odd biases, too. Jews, for example, made him see red. +Jews and the high finance. +</P> + +<P> +'The Black Stone,' he repeated. '<i>Der Schwarze Stein</i>. It's like a +penny novelette. And all this stuff about Karolides. That is the weak +part of the tale, for I happen to know that the virtuous Karolides is +likely to outlast us both. There is no State in Europe that wants him +gone. Besides, he has just been playing up to Berlin and Vienna and +giving my Chief some uneasy moments. No! Scudder has gone off the +track there. Frankly, Hannay, I don't believe that part of his story. +There's some nasty business afoot, and he found out too much and lost +his life over it. But I am ready to take my oath that it is ordinary +spy work. A certain great European Power makes a hobby of her spy +system, and her methods are not too particular. Since she pays by +piecework her blackguards are not likely to stick at a murder or two. +They want our naval dispositions for their collection at the Marineamt; +but they will be pigeon-holed—nothing more.' +</P> + +<P> +Just then the butler entered the room. +</P> + +<P> +'There's a trunk-call from London, Sir Walter. It's Mr 'Eath, and he +wants to speak to you personally.' +</P> + +<P> +My host went off to the telephone. +</P> + +<P> +He returned in five minutes with a whitish face. 'I apologize to the +shade of Scudder,' he said. 'Karolides was shot dead this evening at a +few minutes after seven.' +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap08"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER EIGHT +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Coming of the Black Stone +</H3> + +<P> +I came down to breakfast next morning, after eight hours of blessed +dreamless sleep, to find Sir Walter decoding a telegram in the midst of +muffins and marmalade. His fresh rosiness of yesterday seemed a +thought tarnished. +</P> + +<P> +'I had a busy hour on the telephone after you went to bed,' he said. +'I got my Chief to speak to the First Lord and the Secretary for War, +and they are bringing Royer over a day sooner. This wire clinches it. +He will be in London at five. Odd that the code word for a <i>Sous-chef +d'tat Major-General</i> should be "Porker".' +</P> + +<P> +He directed me to the hot dishes and went on. +</P> + +<P> +'Not that I think it will do much good. If your friends were clever +enough to find out the first arrangement they are clever enough to +discover the change. I would give my head to know where the leak is. +We believed there were only five men in England who knew about Royer's +visit, and you may be certain there were fewer in France, for they +manage these things better there.' +</P> + +<P> +While I ate he continued to talk, making me to my surprise a present of +his full confidence. +</P> + +<P> +'Can the dispositions not be changed?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'They could,' he said. 'But we want to avoid that if possible. They +are the result of immense thought, and no alteration would be as good. +Besides, on one or two points change is simply impossible. Still, +something could be done, I suppose, if it were absolutely necessary. +But you see the difficulty, Hannay. Our enemies are not going to be +such fools as to pick Royer's pocket or any childish game like that. +They know that would mean a row and put us on our guard. Their aim is +to get the details without any one of us knowing, so that Royer will go +back to Paris in the belief that the whole business is still deadly +secret. If they can't do that they fail, for, once we suspect, they +know that the whole thing must be altered.' +</P> + +<P> +'Then we must stick by the Frenchman's side till he is home again,' I +said. 'If they thought they could get the information in Paris they +would try there. It means that they have some deep scheme on foot in +London which they reckon is going to win out.' +</P> + +<P> +'Royer dines with my Chief, and then comes to my house where four +people will see him—Whittaker from the Admiralty, myself, Sir Arthur +Drew, and General Winstanley. The First Lord is ill, and has gone to +Sheringham. At my house he will get a certain document from Whittaker, +and after that he will be motored to Portsmouth where a destroyer will +take him to Havre. His journey is too important for the ordinary +boat-train. He will never be left unattended for a moment till he is +safe on French soil. The same with Whittaker till he meets Royer. +That is the best we can do, and it's hard to see how there can be any +miscarriage. But I don't mind admitting that I'm horribly nervous. +This murder of Karolides will play the deuce in the chancelleries of +Europe.' +</P> + +<P> +After breakfast he asked me if I could drive a car. 'Well, you'll be +my chauffeur today and wear Hudson's rig. You're about his size. You +have a hand in this business and we are taking no risks. There are +desperate men against us, who will not respect the country retreat of +an overworked official.' +</P> + +<P> +When I first came to London I had bought a car and amused myself with +running about the south of England, so I knew something of the +geography. I took Sir Walter to town by the Bath Road and made good +going. It was a soft breathless June morning, with a promise of +sultriness later, but it was delicious enough swinging through the +little towns with their freshly watered streets, and past the summer +gardens of the Thames valley. I landed Sir Walter at his house in +Queen Anne's Gate punctually by half-past eleven. The butler was +coming up by train with the luggage. +</P> + +<P> +The first thing he did was to take me round to Scotland Yard. There we +saw a prim gentleman, with a clean-shaven, lawyer's face. +</P> + +<P> +'I've brought you the Portland Place murderer,' was Sir Walter's +introduction. +</P> + +<P> +The reply was a wry smile. 'It would have been a welcome present, +Bullivant. This, I presume, is Mr Richard Hannay, who for some days +greatly interested my department.' +</P> + +<P> +'Mr Hannay will interest it again. He has much to tell you, but not +today. For certain grave reasons his tale must wait for four hours. +Then, I can promise you, you will be entertained and possibly edified. +I want you to assure Mr Hannay that he will suffer no further +inconvenience.' +</P> + +<P> +This assurance was promptly given. 'You can take up your life where +you left off,' I was told. 'Your flat, which probably you no longer +wish to occupy, is waiting for you, and your man is still there. As +you were never publicly accused, we considered that there was no need +of a public exculpation. But on that, of course, you must please +yourself.' +</P> + +<P> +'We may want your assistance later on, MacGillivray,' Sir Walter said +as we left. +</P> + +<P> +Then he turned me loose. +</P> + +<P> +'Come and see me tomorrow, Hannay. I needn't tell you to keep deadly +quiet. If I were you I would go to bed, for you must have considerable +arrears of sleep to overtake. You had better lie low, for if one of +your Black Stone friends saw you there might be trouble.' +</P> + +<P> +I felt curiously at a loose end. At first it was very pleasant to be a +free man, able to go where I wanted without fearing anything. I had +only been a month under the ban of the law, and it was quite enough for +me. I went to the Savoy and ordered very carefully a very good +luncheon, and then smoked the best cigar the house could provide. But +I was still feeling nervous. When I saw anybody look at me in the +lounge, I grew shy, and wondered if they were thinking about the murder. +</P> + +<P> +After that I took a taxi and drove miles away up into North London. I +walked back through fields and lines of villas and terraces and then +slums and mean streets, and it took me pretty nearly two hours. All +the while my restlessness was growing worse. I felt that great things, +tremendous things, were happening or about to happen, and I, who was +the cog-wheel of the whole business, was out of it. Royer would be +landing at Dover, Sir Walter would be making plans with the few people +in England who were in the secret, and somewhere in the darkness the +Black Stone would be working. I felt the sense of danger and impending +calamity, and I had the curious feeling, too, that I alone could avert +it, alone could grapple with it. But I was out of the game now. How +could it be otherwise? It was not likely that Cabinet Ministers and +Admiralty Lords and Generals would admit me to their councils. +</P> + +<P> +I actually began to wish that I could run up against one of my three +enemies. That would lead to developments. I felt that I wanted +enormously to have a vulgar scrap with those gentry, where I could hit +out and flatten something. I was rapidly getting into a very bad +temper. +</P> + +<P> +I didn't feel like going back to my flat. That had to be faced some +time, but as I still had sufficient money I thought I would put it off +till next morning, and go to a hotel for the night. +</P> + +<P> +My irritation lasted through dinner, which I had at a restaurant in +Jermyn Street. I was no longer hungry, and let several courses pass +untasted. I drank the best part of a bottle of Burgundy, but it did +nothing to cheer me. An abominable restlessness had taken possession +of me. Here was I, a very ordinary fellow, with no particular brains, +and yet I was convinced that somehow I was needed to help this business +through—that without me it would all go to blazes. I told myself it +was sheer silly conceit, that four or five of the cleverest people +living, with all the might of the British Empire at their back, had the +job in hand. Yet I couldn't be convinced. It seemed as if a voice +kept speaking in my ear, telling me to be up and doing, or I would +never sleep again. +</P> + +<P> +The upshot was that about half-past nine I made up my mind to go to +Queen Anne's Gate. Very likely I would not be admitted, but it would +ease my conscience to try. +</P> + +<P> +I walked down Jermyn Street, and at the corner of Duke Street passed a +group of young men. They were in evening dress, had been dining +somewhere, and were going on to a music-hall. One of them was Mr +Marmaduke Jopley. +</P> + +<P> +He saw me and stopped short. +</P> + +<P> +'By God, the murderer!' he cried. 'Here, you fellows, hold him! +That's Hannay, the man who did the Portland Place murder!' He gripped +me by the arm, and the others crowded round. I wasn't looking for any +trouble, but my ill-temper made me play the fool. A policeman came up, +and I should have told him the truth, and, if he didn't believe it, +demanded to be taken to Scotland Yard, or for that matter to the +nearest police station. But a delay at that moment seemed to me +unendurable, and the sight of Marmie's imbecile face was more than I +could bear. I let out with my left, and had the satisfaction of seeing +him measure his length in the gutter. +</P> + +<P> +Then began an unholy row. They were all on me at once, and the +policeman took me in the rear. I got in one or two good blows, for I +think, with fair play, I could have licked the lot of them, but the +policeman pinned me behind, and one of them got his fingers on my +throat. +</P> + +<P> +Through a black cloud of rage I heard the officer of the law asking +what was the matter, and Marmie, between his broken teeth, declaring +that I was Hannay the murderer. +</P> + +<P> +'Oh, damn it all,' I cried, 'make the fellow shut up. I advise you to +leave me alone, constable. Scotland Yard knows all about me, and +you'll get a proper wigging if you interfere with me.' +</P> + +<P> +'You've got to come along of me, young man,' said the policeman. 'I +saw you strike that gentleman crool 'ard. You began it too, for he +wasn't doing nothing. I seen you. Best go quietly or I'll have to fix +you up.' +</P> + +<P> +Exasperation and an overwhelming sense that at no cost must I delay +gave me the strength of a bull elephant. I fairly wrenched the +constable off his feet, floored the man who was gripping my collar, and +set off at my best pace down Duke Street. I heard a whistle being +blown, and the rush of men behind me. +</P> + +<P> +I have a very fair turn of speed, and that night I had wings. In a +jiffy I was in Pall Mall and had turned down towards St James's Park. +I dodged the policeman at the Palace gates, dived through a press of +carriages at the entrance to the Mall, and was making for the bridge +before my pursuers had crossed the roadway. In the open ways of the +Park I put on a spurt. Happily there were few people about and no one +tried to stop me. I was staking all on getting to Queen Anne's Gate. +</P> + +<P> +When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir +Walter's house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four +motor-cars were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and walked +briskly up to the door. If the butler refused me admission, or if he +even delayed to open the door, I was done. +</P> + +<P> +He didn't delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened. +</P> + +<P> +'I must see Sir Walter,' I panted. 'My business is desperately +important.' +</P> + +<P> +That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held the door +open, and then shut it behind me. 'Sir Walter is engaged, Sir, and I +have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait.' +</P> + +<P> +The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and rooms on +both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a telephone and a +couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat. +</P> + +<P> +'See here,' I whispered. 'There's trouble about and I'm in it. But +Sir Walter knows, and I'm working for him. If anyone comes and asks if +I am here, tell him a lie.' +</P> + +<P> +He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the street, and +a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man more than that +butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a graven image waited +to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He told them whose house it +was, and what his orders were, and simply froze them off the doorstep. +I could see it all from my alcove, and it was better than any play. +</P> + +<P> +I hadn't waited long till there came another ring at the bell. The +butler made no bones about admitting this new visitor. +</P> + +<P> +While he was taking off his coat I saw who it was. You couldn't open a +newspaper or a magazine without seeing that face—the grey beard cut +like a spade, the firm fighting mouth, the blunt square nose, and the +keen blue eyes. I recognized the First Sea Lord, the man, they say, +that made the new British Navy. +</P> + +<P> +He passed my alcove and was ushered into a room at the back of the +hall. As the door opened I could hear the sound of low voices. It +shut, and I was left alone again. +</P> + +<P> +For twenty minutes I sat there, wondering what I was to do next. I was +still perfectly convinced that I was wanted, but when or how I had no +notion. I kept looking at my watch, and as the time crept on to +half-past ten I began to think that the conference must soon end. In a +quarter of an hour Royer should be speeding along the road to +Portsmouth ... +</P> + +<P> +Then I heard a bell ring, and the butler appeared. The door of the +back room opened, and the First Sea Lord came out. He walked past me, +and in passing he glanced in my direction, and for a second we looked +each other in the face. +</P> + +<P> +Only for a second, but it was enough to make my heart jump. I had +never seen the great man before, and he had never seen me. But in that +fraction of time something sprang into his eyes, and that something was +recognition. You can't mistake it. It is a flicker, a spark of light, +a minute shade of difference which means one thing and one thing only. +It came involuntarily, for in a moment it died, and he passed on. In a +maze of wild fancies I heard the street door close behind him. +</P> + +<P> +I picked up the telephone book and looked up the number of his house. +We were connected at once, and I heard a servant's voice. +</P> + +<P> +'Is his Lordship at home?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'His Lordship returned half an hour ago,' said the voice, 'and has gone +to bed. He is not very well tonight. Will you leave a message, Sir?' +</P> + +<P> +I rang off and almost tumbled into a chair. My part in this business +was not yet ended. It had been a close shave, but I had been in time. +</P> + +<P> +Not a moment could be lost, so I marched boldly to the door of that +back room and entered without knocking. +</P> + +<P> +Five surprised faces looked up from a round table. There was Sir +Walter, and Drew the War Minister, whom I knew from his photographs. +There was a slim elderly man, who was probably Whittaker, the Admiralty +official, and there was General Winstanley, conspicuous from the long +scar on his forehead. Lastly, there was a short stout man with an +iron-grey moustache and bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the +middle of a sentence. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter's face showed surprise and annoyance. +</P> + +<P> +'This is Mr Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you,' he said +apologetically to the company. 'I'm afraid, Hannay, this visit is +ill-timed.' +</P> + +<P> +I was getting back my coolness. 'That remains to be seen, Sir,' I +said; 'but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God's sake, +gentlemen, tell me who went out a minute ago?' +</P> + +<P> +'Lord Alloa,' Sir Walter said, reddening with anger.</P> + +<P>'It was not,' I +cried; 'it was his living image, but it was not Lord Alloa. It was +someone who recognized me, someone I have seen in the last month. He +had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up Lord Alloa's house and +was told he had come in half an hour before and had gone to bed.' +</P> + +<P> +'Who—who—' someone stammered. +</P> + +<P> +'The Black Stone,' I cried, and I sat down in the chair so recently +vacated and looked round at five badly scared gentlemen. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap09"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER NINE +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +The Thirty-Nine Steps +</H3> + +<P> +'Nonsense!' said the official from the Admiralty. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter got up and left the room while we looked blankly at the +table. He came back in ten minutes with a long face. 'I have spoken +to Alloa,' he said. 'Had him out of bed—very grumpy. He went +straight home after Mulross's dinner.' +</P> + +<P> +'But it's madness,' broke in General Winstanley. 'Do you mean to tell +me that that man came here and sat beside me for the best part of half +an hour and that I didn't detect the imposture? Alloa must be out of +his mind.' +</P> + +<P> +'Don't you see the cleverness of it?' I said. 'You were too interested +in other things to have any eyes. You took Lord Alloa for granted. If +it had been anybody else you might have looked more closely, but it was +natural for him to be here, and that put you all to sleep.' +</P> + +<P> +Then the Frenchman spoke, very slowly and in good English. +</P> + +<P> +'The young man is right. His psychology is good. Our enemies have not +been foolish!' +</P> + +<P> +He bent his wise brows on the assembly. +</P> + +<P> +'I will tell you a tale,' he said. 'It happened many years ago in +Senegal. I was quartered in a remote station, and to pass the time +used to go fishing for big barbel in the river. A little Arab mare +used to carry my luncheon basket—one of the salted dun breed you got +at Timbuctoo in the old days. Well, one morning I had good sport, and +the mare was unaccountably restless. I could hear her whinnying and +squealing and stamping her feet, and I kept soothing her with my voice +while my mind was intent on fish. I could see her all the time, as I +thought, out of a corner of my eye, tethered to a tree twenty yards +away. After a couple of hours I began to think of food. I collected +my fish in a tarpaulin bag, and moved down the stream towards the mare, +trolling my line. When I got up to her I flung the tarpaulin on her +back—' +</P> + +<P> +He paused and looked round. +</P> + +<P> +'It was the smell that gave me warning. I turned my head and found +myself looking at a lion three feet off ... An old man-eater, that was +the terror of the village ... What was left of the mare, a mass of +blood and bones and hide, was behind him.' +</P> + +<P> +'What happened?' I asked. I was enough of a hunter to know a true yarn +when I heard it. +</P> + +<P> +'I stuffed my fishing-rod into his jaws, and I had a pistol. Also my +servants came presently with rifles. But he left his mark on me.' He +held up a hand which lacked three fingers. +</P> + +<P> +'Consider,' he said. 'The mare had been dead more than an hour, and +the brute had been patiently watching me ever since. I never saw the +kill, for I was accustomed to the mare's fretting, and I never marked +her absence, for my consciousness of her was only of something tawny, +and the lion filled that part. If I could blunder thus, gentlemen, in +a land where men's senses are keen, why should we busy preoccupied +urban folk not err also?' +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter nodded. No one was ready to gainsay him. +</P> + +<P> +'But I don't see,' went on Winstanley. 'Their object was to get these +dispositions without our knowing it. Now it only required one of us to +mention to Alloa our meeting tonight for the whole fraud to be exposed.' +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter laughed dryly. 'The selection of Alloa shows their acumen. +Which of us was likely to speak to him about tonight? Or was he likely +to open the subject?' +</P> + +<P> +I remembered the First Sea Lord's reputation for taciturnity and +shortness of temper. +</P> + +<P> +'The one thing that puzzles me,' said the General, 'is what good his +visit here would do that spy fellow? He could not carry away several +pages of figures and strange names in his head.' +</P> + +<P> +'That is not difficult,' the Frenchman replied. 'A good spy is trained +to have a photographic memory. Like your own Macaulay. You noticed he +said nothing, but went through these papers again and again. I think +we may assume that he has every detail stamped on his mind. When I was +younger I could do the same trick.' +</P> + +<P> +'Well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to change the plans,' said +Sir Walter ruefully. +</P> + +<P> +Whittaker was looking very glum. 'Did you tell Lord Alloa what has +happened?' he asked. 'No? Well, I can't speak with absolute +assurance, but I'm nearly certain we can't make any serious change +unless we alter the geography of England.' +</P> + +<P> +'Another thing must be said,' it was Royer who spoke. 'I talked freely +when that man was here. I told something of the military plans of my +Government. I was permitted to say so much. But that information +would be worth many millions to our enemies. No, my friends, I see no +other way. The man who came here and his confederates must be taken, +and taken at once.' +</P> + +<P> +'Good God,' I cried, 'and we have not a rag of a clue.' +</P> + +<P> +'Besides,' said Whittaker, 'there is the post. By this time the news +will be on its way.' +</P> + +<P> +'No,' said the Frenchman. 'You do not understand the habits of the +spy. He receives personally his reward, and he delivers personally his +intelligence. We in France know something of the breed. There is +still a chance, <i>mes amis</i>. These men must cross the sea, and there are +ships to be searched and ports to be watched. Believe me, the need is +desperate for both France and Britain.' +</P> + +<P> +Royer's grave good sense seemed to pull us together. He was the man of +action among fumblers. But I saw no hope in any face, and I felt none. +Where among the fifty millions of these islands and within a dozen +hours were we to lay hands on the three cleverest rogues in Europe? +</P> + +<P> +Then suddenly I had an inspiration. +</P> + +<P> +'Where is Scudder's book?' I cried to Sir Walter. 'Quick, man, I +remember something in it.' +</P> + +<P> +He unlocked the door of a bureau and gave it to me. +</P> + +<P> +I found the place. <i>thirty-nine steps</i>, I read, and again, +<i>thirty-nine steps</i>—<i>I counted them—high tide 10.17 P.M.</i> +</P> + +<P> +The Admiralty man was looking at me as if he thought I had gone mad. +</P> + +<P> +'Don't you see it's a clue,' I shouted. 'Scudder knew where these +fellows laired—he knew where they were going to leave the country, +though he kept the name to himself. Tomorrow was the day, and it was +some place where high tide was at 10.17.' +</P> + +<P> +'They may have gone tonight,' someone said. +</P> + +<P> +'Not they. They have their own snug secret way, and they won't be +hurried. I know Germans, and they are mad about working to a plan. +Where the devil can I get a book of Tide Tables?' +</P> + +<P> +Whittaker brightened up. 'It's a chance,' he said. 'Let's go over to +the Admiralty.' +</P> + +<P> +We got into two of the waiting motor-cars—all but Sir Walter, who went +off to Scotland Yard—to 'mobilize MacGillivray', so he said. We +marched through empty corridors and big bare chambers where the +charwomen were busy, till we reached a little room lined with books and +maps. A resident clerk was unearthed, who presently fetched from the +library the Admiralty Tide Tables. I sat at the desk and the others +stood round, for somehow or other I had got charge of this expedition. +</P> + +<P> +It was no good. There were hundreds of entries, and so far as I could +see 10.17 might cover fifty places. We had to find some way of +narrowing the possibilities. +</P> + +<P> +I took my head in my hands and thought. There must be some way of +reading this riddle. What did Scudder mean by steps? I thought of +dock steps, but if he had meant that I didn't think he would have +mentioned the number. It must be some place where there were several +staircases, and one marked out from the others by having thirty-nine +steps. +</P> + +<P> +Then I had a sudden thought, and hunted up all the steamer sailings. +There was no boat which left for the Continent at 10.17 p.m. +</P> + +<P> +Why was high tide so important? If it was a harbour it must be some +little place where the tide mattered, or else it was a heavy-draught +boat. But there was no regular steamer sailing at that hour, and +somehow I didn't think they would travel by a big boat from a regular +harbour. So it must be some little harbour where the tide was +important, or perhaps no harbour at all. +</P> + +<P> +But if it was a little port I couldn't see what the steps signified. +There were no sets of staircases on any harbour that I had ever seen. +It must be some place which a particular staircase identified, and +where the tide was full at 10.17. On the whole it seemed to me that +the place must be a bit of open coast. But the staircases kept +puzzling me. +</P> + +<P> +Then I went back to wider considerations. Whereabouts would a man be +likely to leave for Germany, a man in a hurry, who wanted a speedy and +a secret passage? Not from any of the big harbours. And not from the +Channel or the West Coast or Scotland, for, remember, he was starting +from London. I measured the distance on the map, and tried to put +myself in the enemy's shoes. I should try for Ostend or Antwerp or +Rotterdam, and I should sail from somewhere on the East Coast between +Cromer and Dover. +</P> + +<P> +All this was very loose guessing, and I don't pretend it was ingenious +or scientific. I wasn't any kind of Sherlock Holmes. But I have +always fancied I had a kind of instinct about questions like this. I +don't know if I can explain myself, but I used to use my brains as far +as they went, and after they came to a blank wall I guessed, and I +usually found my guesses pretty right. +</P> + +<P> +So I set out all my conclusions on a bit of Admiralty paper. They ran +like this: +</P> + +<P CLASS="c"> + FAIRLY CERTAIN<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (1) Place where there are several sets of stairs; one that + matters distinguished by having thirty-nine steps. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (2) Full tide at 10.17 p.m. Leaving shore only possible at full + tide.<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (3) Steps not dock steps, and so place probably not harbour. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (4) No regular night steamer at 10.17. Means of transport must + be tramp (unlikely), yacht, or fishing-boat. +</P> + +<P> +There my reasoning stopped. I made another list, which I headed +'Guessed', but I was just as sure of the one as the other. +</P> + +<P CLASS="c"> + GUESSED<BR> +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (1) Place not harbour but open coast. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (2) Boat small—trawler, yacht, or launch. +</P> + +<P CLASS="noindent"> + (3) Place somewhere on East Coast between Cromer and Dover. +</P> + +<P> +It struck me as odd that I should be sitting at that desk with a +Cabinet Minister, a Field-Marshal, two high Government officials, and a +French General watching me, while from the scribble of a dead man I was +trying to drag a secret which meant life or death for us. +</P> + +<P> +Sir Walter had joined us, and presently MacGillivray arrived. He had +sent out instructions to watch the ports and railway stations for the +three men whom I had described to Sir Walter. Not that he or anybody +else thought that that would do much good. +</P> + +<P> +'Here's the most I can make of it,' I said. 'We have got to find a +place where there are several staircases down to the beach, one of +which has thirty-nine steps. I think it's a piece of open coast with +biggish cliffs, somewhere between the Wash and the Channel. Also it's +a place where full tide is at 10.17 tomorrow night.' +</P> + +<P> +Then an idea struck me. 'Is there no Inspector of Coastguards or some +fellow like that who knows the East Coast?' +</P> + +<P> +Whittaker said there was, and that he lived in Clapham. He went off in +a car to fetch him, and the rest of us sat about the little room and +talked of anything that came into our heads. I lit a pipe and went +over the whole thing again till my brain grew weary. +</P> + +<P> +About one in the morning the coastguard man arrived. He was a fine old +fellow, with the look of a naval officer, and was desperately +respectful to the company. I left the War Minister to cross-examine +him, for I felt he would think it cheek in me to talk. +</P> + +<P> +'We want you to tell us the places you know on the East Coast where +there are cliffs, and where several sets of steps run down to the +beach.' +</P> + +<P> +He thought for a bit. 'What kind of steps do you mean, Sir? There are +plenty of places with roads cut down through the cliffs, and most roads +have a step or two in them. Or do you mean regular staircases—all +steps, so to speak?' +</P> + +<P> +Sir Arthur looked towards me. 'We mean regular staircases,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +He reflected a minute or two. 'I don't know that I can think of any. +Wait a second. There's a place in Norfolk—Brattlesham—beside a +golf-course, where there are a couple of staircases, to let the +gentlemen get a lost ball.' +</P> + +<P> +'That's not it,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +'Then there are plenty of Marine Parades, if that's what you mean. +Every seaside resort has them.' +</P> + +<P> +I shook my head. 'It's got to be more retired than that,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +'Well, gentlemen, I can't think of anywhere else. Of course, there's +the Ruff—' +</P> + +<P> +'What's that?' I asked. +</P> + +<P> +'The big chalk headland in Kent, close to Bradgate. It's got a lot of +villas on the top, and some of the houses have staircases down to a +private beach. It's a very high-toned sort of place, and the residents +there like to keep by themselves.' +</P> + +<P> +I tore open the Tide Tables and found Bradgate. High tide there was at +10.27 P.m. on the 15th of June. +</P> + +<P> +'We're on the scent at last,' I cried excitedly. 'How can I find out +what is the tide at the Ruff?' +</P> + +<P> +'I can tell you that, Sir,' said the coastguard man. 'I once was lent +a house there in this very month, and I used to go out at night to the +deep-sea fishing. The tide's ten minutes before Bradgate.' +</P> + +<P> +I closed the book and looked round at the company. +</P> + +<P> +'If one of those staircases has thirty-nine steps we have solved the +mystery, gentlemen,' I said. 'I want the loan of your car, Sir Walter, +and a map of the roads. If Mr MacGillivray will spare me ten minutes, +I think we can prepare something for tomorrow.' +</P> + +<P> +It was ridiculous in me to take charge of the business like this, but +they didn't seem to mind, and after all I had been in the show from the +start. Besides, I was used to rough jobs, and these eminent gentlemen +were too clever not to see it. It was General Royer who gave me my +commission. 'I for one,' he said, 'am content to leave the matter in +Mr Hannay's hands.' +</P> + +<P> +By half-past three I was tearing past the moonlit hedgerows of Kent, +with MacGillivray's best man on the seat beside me. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR> + +<A NAME="chap10"></A> +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +CHAPTER TEN +</H3> + +<H3 ALIGN="center"> +Various Parties Converging on the Sea +</H3> + +<P> +A pink and blue June morning found me at Bradgate looking from the +Griffin Hotel over a smooth sea to the lightship on the Cock sands +which seemed the size of a bell-buoy. A couple of miles farther south +and much nearer the shore a small destroyer was anchored. Scaife, +MacGillivray's man, who had been in the Navy, knew the boat, and told +me her name and her commander's, so I sent off a wire to Sir Walter. +</P> + +<P> +After breakfast Scaife got from a house-agent a key for the gates of +the staircases on the Ruff. I walked with him along the sands, and sat +down in a nook of the cliffs while he investigated the half-dozen of +them. I didn't want to be seen, but the place at this hour was quite +deserted, and all the time I was on that beach I saw nothing but the +sea-gulls. +</P> + +<P> +It took him more than an hour to do the job, and when I saw him coming +towards me, conning a bit of paper, I can tell you my heart was in my +mouth. Everything depended, you see, on my guess proving right. +</P> + +<P> +He read aloud the number of steps in the different stairs. +'Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-nine, forty-two, forty-seven,' and +'twenty-one' where the cliffs grew lower. I almost got up and shouted. +</P> + +<P> +We hurried back to the town and sent a wire to MacGillivray. I wanted +half a dozen men, and I directed them to divide themselves among +different specified hotels. Then Scaife set out to prospect the house +at the head of the thirty-nine steps. +</P> + +<P> +He came back with news that both puzzled and reassured me. The house +was called Trafalgar Lodge, and belonged to an old gentleman called +Appleton—a retired stockbroker, the house-agent said. Mr Appleton was +there a good deal in the summer time, and was in residence now—had +been for the better part of a week. Scaife could pick up very little +information about him, except that he was a decent old fellow, who paid +his bills regularly, and was always good for a fiver for a local +charity. Then Scaife seemed to have penetrated to the back door of the +house, pretending he was an agent for sewing-machines. Only three +servants were kept, a cook, a parlour-maid, and a housemaid, and they +were just the sort that you would find in a respectable middle-class +household. The cook was not the gossiping kind, and had pretty soon +shut the door in his face, but Scaife said he was positive she knew +nothing. Next door there was a new house building which would give +good cover for observation, and the villa on the other side was to let, +and its garden was rough and shrubby. +</P> + +<P> +I borrowed Scaife's telescope, and before lunch went for a walk along +the Ruff. I kept well behind the rows of villas, and found a good +observation point on the edge of the golf-course. There I had a view +of the line of turf along the cliff top, with seats placed at +intervals, and the little square plots, railed in and planted with +bushes, whence the staircases descended to the beach. I saw Trafalgar +Lodge very plainly, a red-brick villa with a veranda, a tennis lawn +behind, and in front the ordinary seaside flower-garden full of +marguerites and scraggy geraniums. There was a flagstaff from which an +enormous Union Jack hung limply in the still air. +</P> + +<P> +Presently I observed someone leave the house and saunter along the +cliff. When I got my glasses on him I saw it was an old man, wearing +white flannel trousers, a blue serge jacket, and a straw hat. He +carried field-glasses and a newspaper, and sat down on one of the iron +seats and began to read. Sometimes he would lay down the paper and +turn his glasses on the sea. He looked for a long time at the +destroyer. I watched him for half an hour, till he got up and went +back to the house for his luncheon, when I returned to the hotel for +mine. +</P> + +<P> +I wasn't feeling very confident. This decent common-place dwelling was +not what I had expected. The man might be the bald archaeologist of +that horrible moorland farm, or he might not. He was exactly the kind +of satisfied old bird you will find in every suburb and every holiday +place. If you wanted a type of the perfectly harmless person you would +probably pitch on that. +</P> + +<P> +But after lunch, as I sat in the hotel porch, I perked up, for I saw +the thing I had hoped for and had dreaded to miss. A yacht came up +from the south and dropped anchor pretty well opposite the Ruff. She +seemed about a hundred and fifty tons, and I saw she belonged to the +Squadron from the white ensign. So Scaife and I went down to the +harbour and hired a boatman for an afternoon's fishing. +</P> + +<P> +I spent a warm and peaceful afternoon. We caught between us about +twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue sea I took +a cheerier view of things. Above the white cliffs of the Ruff I saw +the green and red of the villas, and especially the great flagstaff of +Trafalgar Lodge. About four o'clock, when we had fished enough, I made +the boatman row us round the yacht, which lay like a delicate white +bird, ready at a moment to flee. Scaife said she must be a fast boat +for her build, and that she was pretty heavily engined. +</P> + +<P> +Her name was the <i>Ariadne</i>, as I discovered from the cap of one of the +men who was polishing brasswork. I spoke to him, and got an answer in +the soft dialect of Essex. Another hand that came along passed me the +time of day in an unmistakable English tongue. Our boatman had an +argument with one of them about the weather, and for a few minutes we +lay on our oars close to the starboard bow. +</P> + +<P> +Then the men suddenly disregarded us and bent their heads to their work +as an officer came along the deck. He was a pleasant, clean-looking +young fellow, and he put a question to us about our fishing in very +good English. But there could be no doubt about him. His +close-cropped head and the cut of his collar and tie never came out of +England. +</P> + +<P> +That did something to reassure me, but as we rowed back to Bradgate my +obstinate doubts would not be dismissed. The thing that worried me was +the reflection that my enemies knew that I had got my knowledge from +Scudder, and it was Scudder who had given me the clue to this place. +If they knew that Scudder had this clue, would they not be certain to +change their plans? Too much depended on their success for them to +take any risks. The whole question was how much they understood about +Scudder's knowledge. I had talked confidently last night about Germans +always sticking to a scheme, but if they had any suspicions that I was +on their track they would be fools not to cover it. I wondered if the +man last night had seen that I recognized him. Somehow I did not think +he had, and to that I had clung. But the whole business had never +seemed so difficult as that afternoon when by all calculations I should +have been rejoicing in assured success. +</P> + +<P> +In the hotel I met the commander of the destroyer, to whom Scaife +introduced me, and with whom I had a few words. Then I thought I would +put in an hour or two watching Trafalgar Lodge. +</P> + +<P> +I found a place farther up the hill, in the garden of an empty house. +From there I had a full view of the court, on which two figures were +having a game of tennis. One was the old man, whom I had already seen; +the other was a younger fellow, wearing some club colours in the scarf +round his middle. They played with tremendous zest, like two city +gents who wanted hard exercise to open their pores. You couldn't +conceive a more innocent spectacle. They shouted and laughed and +stopped for drinks, when a maid brought out two tankards on a salver. +I rubbed my eyes and asked myself if I was not the most immortal fool +on earth. Mystery and darkness had hung about the men who hunted me +over the Scotch moor in aeroplane and motor-car, and notably about that +infernal antiquarian. It was easy enough to connect those folk with +the knife that pinned Scudder to the floor, and with fell designs on +the world's peace. But here were two guileless citizens taking their +innocuous exercise, and soon about to go indoors to a humdrum dinner, +where they would talk of market prices and the last cricket scores and +the gossip of their native Surbiton. I had been making a net to catch +vultures and falcons, and lo and behold! two plump thrushes had +blundered into it. +</P> + +<P> +Presently a third figure arrived, a young man on a bicycle, with a bag +of golf-clubs slung on his back. He strolled round to the tennis lawn +and was welcomed riotously by the players. Evidently they were +chaffing him, and their chaff sounded horribly English. Then the plump +man, mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, announced that he must +have a tub. I heard his very words—'I've got into a proper lather,' +he said. 'This will bring down my weight and my handicap, Bob. I'll +take you on tomorrow and give you a stroke a hole.' You couldn't find +anything much more English than that. +</P> + +<P> +They all went into the house, and left me feeling a precious idiot. I +had been barking up the wrong tree this time. These men might be +acting; but if they were, where was their audience? They didn't know I +was sitting thirty yards off in a rhododendron. It was simply +impossible to believe that these three hearty fellows were anything but +what they seemed—three ordinary, game-playing, suburban Englishmen, +wearisome, if you like, but sordidly innocent. +</P> + +<P> +And yet there were three of them; and one was old, and one was plump, +and one was lean and dark; and their house chimed in with Scudder's +notes; and half a mile off was lying a steam yacht with at least one +German officer. I thought of Karolides lying dead and all Europe +trembling on the edge of earthquake, and the men I had left behind me +in London who were waiting anxiously for the events of the next hours. +There was no doubt that hell was afoot somewhere. The Black Stone had +won, and if it survived this June night would bank its winnings. +</P> + +<P> +There seemed only one thing to do—go forward as if I had no doubts, +and if I was going to make a fool of myself to do it handsomely. Never +in my life have I faced a job with greater disinclination. I would +rather in my then mind have walked into a den of anarchists, each with +his Browning handy, or faced a charging lion with a popgun, than enter +that happy home of three cheerful Englishmen and tell them that their +game was up. How they would laugh at me! +</P> + +<P> +But suddenly I remembered a thing I once heard in Rhodesia from old +Peter Pienaar. I have quoted Peter already in this narrative. He was +the best scout I ever knew, and before he had turned respectable he had +been pretty often on the windy side of the law, when he had been wanted +badly by the authorities. Peter once discussed with me the question of +disguises, and he had a theory which struck me at the time. He said, +barring absolute certainties like fingerprints, mere physical traits +were very little use for identification if the fugitive really knew his +business. He laughed at things like dyed hair and false beards and +such childish follies. The only thing that mattered was what Peter +called 'atmosphere'. +</P> + +<P> +If a man could get into perfectly different surroundings from those in +which he had been first observed, and—this is the important +part—really play up to these surroundings and behave as if he had +never been out of them, he would puzzle the cleverest detectives on +earth. And he used to tell a story of how he once borrowed a black +coat and went to church and shared the same hymn-book with the man that +was looking for him. If that man had seen him in decent company before +he would have recognized him; but he had only seen him snuffing the +lights in a public-house with a revolver. +</P> + +<P> +The recollection of Peter's talk gave me the first real comfort that I +had had that day. Peter had been a wise old bird, and these fellows I +was after were about the pick of the aviary. What if they were playing +Peter's game? A fool tries to look different: a clever man looks the +same and is different. +</P> + +<P> +Again, there was that other maxim of Peter's which had helped me when I +had been a roadman. 'If you are playing a part, you will never keep it +up unless you convince yourself that you are it.' That would explain +the game of tennis. Those chaps didn't need to act, they just turned a +handle and passed into another life, which came as naturally to them as +the first. It sounds a platitude, but Peter used to say that it was +the big secret of all the famous criminals. +</P> + +<P> +It was now getting on for eight o'clock, and I went back and saw Scaife +to give him his instructions. I arranged with him how to place his +men, and then I went for a walk, for I didn't feel up to any dinner. I +went round the deserted golf-course, and then to a point on the cliffs +farther north beyond the line of the villas. +</P> + +<P> +On the little trim newly-made roads I met people in flannels coming +back from tennis and the beach, and a coastguard from the wireless +station, and donkeys and pierrots padding homewards. Out at sea in the +blue dusk I saw lights appear on the <i>Ariadne</i> and on the destroyer away +to the south, and beyond the Cock sands the bigger lights of steamers +making for the Thames. The whole scene was so peaceful and ordinary +that I got more dashed in spirits every second. It took all my +resolution to stroll towards Trafalgar Lodge about half-past nine. +</P> + +<P> +On the way I got a piece of solid comfort from the sight of a greyhound +that was swinging along at a nursemaid's heels. He reminded me of a +dog I used to have in Rhodesia, and of the time when I took him hunting +with me in the Pali hills. We were after rhebok, the dun kind, and I +recollected how we had followed one beast, and both he and I had clean +lost it. A greyhound works by sight, and my eyes are good enough, but +that buck simply leaked out of the landscape. Afterwards I found out +how it managed it. Against the grey rock of the kopjes it showed no +more than a crow against a thundercloud. It didn't need to run away; +all it had to do was to stand still and melt into the background. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly as these memories chased across my brain I thought of my +present case and applied the moral. The Black Stone didn't need to +bolt. They were quietly absorbed into the landscape. I was on the +right track, and I jammed that down in my mind and vowed never to +forget it. The last word was with Peter Pienaar. +</P> + +<P> +Scaife's men would be posted now, but there was no sign of a soul. The +house stood as open as a market-place for anybody to observe. A +three-foot railing separated it from the cliff road; the windows on the +ground-floor were all open, and shaded lights and the low sound of +voices revealed where the occupants were finishing dinner. Everything +was as public and above-board as a charity bazaar. Feeling the +greatest fool on earth, I opened the gate and rang the bell. +</P> + +<P> +A man of my sort, who has travelled about the world in rough places, +gets on perfectly well with two classes, what you may call the upper +and the lower. He understands them and they understand him. I was at +home with herds and tramps and roadmen, and I was sufficiently at my +ease with people like Sir Walter and the men I had met the night +before. I can't explain why, but it is a fact. But what fellows like +me don't understand is the great comfortable, satisfied middle-class +world, the folk that live in villas and suburbs. He doesn't know how +they look at things, he doesn't understand their conventions, and he is +as shy of them as of a black mamba. When a trim parlour-maid opened +the door, I could hardly find my voice. +</P> + +<P> +I asked for Mr Appleton, and was ushered in. My plan had been to walk +straight into the dining-room, and by a sudden appearance wake in the +men that start of recognition which would confirm my theory. But when +I found myself in that neat hall the place mastered me. There were the +golf-clubs and tennis-rackets, the straw hats and caps, the rows of +gloves, the sheaf of walking-sticks, which you will find in ten +thousand British homes. A stack of neatly folded coats and waterproofs +covered the top of an old oak chest; there was a grandfather clock +ticking; and some polished brass warming-pans on the walls, and a +barometer, and a print of Chiltern winning the St Leger. The place was +as orthodox as an Anglican church. When the maid asked me for my name +I gave it automatically, and was shown into the smoking-room, on the +right side of the hall. +</P> + +<P> +That room was even worse. I hadn't time to examine it, but I could see +some framed group photographs above the mantelpiece, and I could have +sworn they were English public school or college. I had only one +glance, for I managed to pull myself together and go after the maid. +But I was too late. She had already entered the dining-room and given +my name to her master, and I had missed the chance of seeing how the +three took it. +</P> + +<P> +When I walked into the room the old man at the head of the table had +risen and turned round to meet me. He was in evening dress—a short +coat and black tie, as was the other, whom I called in my own mind the +plump one. The third, the dark fellow, wore a blue serge suit and a +soft white collar, and the colours of some club or school. +</P> + +<P> +The old man's manner was perfect. 'Mr Hannay?' he said hesitatingly. +'Did you wish to see me? One moment, you fellows, and I'll rejoin you. +We had better go to the smoking-room.' +</P> + +<P> +Though I hadn't an ounce of confidence in me, I forced myself to play +the game. I pulled up a chair and sat down on it. +</P> + +<P> +'I think we have met before,' I said, 'and I guess you know my +business.' +</P> + +<P> +The light in the room was dim, but so far as I could see their faces, +they played the part of mystification very well. +</P> + +<P> +'Maybe, maybe,' said the old man. 'I haven't a very good memory, but +I'm afraid you must tell me your errand, Sir, for I really don't know +it.' +</P> + +<P> +'Well, then,' I said, and all the time I seemed to myself to be talking +pure foolishness—'I have come to tell you that the game's up. I have +a warrant for the arrest of you three gentlemen.' +</P> + +<P> +'Arrest,' said the old man, and he looked really shocked. 'Arrest! +Good God, what for?' +</P> + +<P> +'For the murder of Franklin Scudder in London on the 23rd day of last +month.' +</P> + +<P> +'I never heard the name before,' said the old man in a dazed voice. +</P> + +<P> +One of the others spoke up. 'That was the Portland Place murder. I +read about it. Good heavens, you must be mad, Sir! Where do you come +from?' +</P> + +<P> +'Scotland Yard,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +After that for a minute there was utter silence. The old man was +staring at his plate and fumbling with a nut, the very model of +innocent bewilderment. +</P> + +<P> +Then the plump one spoke up. He stammered a little, like a man picking +his words. +</P> + +<P> +'Don't get flustered, uncle,' he said. 'It is all a ridiculous +mistake; but these things happen sometimes, and we can easily set it +right. It won't be hard to prove our innocence. I can show that I was +out of the country on the 23rd of May, and Bob was in a nursing home. +You were in London, but you can explain what you were doing.' +</P> + +<P> +'Right, Percy! Of course that's easy enough. The 23rd! That was the +day after Agatha's wedding. Let me see. What was I doing? I came up +in the morning from Woking, and lunched at the club with Charlie +Symons. Then—oh yes, I dined with the Fishmongers. I remember, for +the punch didn't agree with me, and I was seedy next morning. Hang it +all, there's the cigar-box I brought back from the dinner.' He pointed +to an object on the table, and laughed nervously. +</P> + +<P> +'I think, Sir,' said the young man, addressing me respectfully, 'you +will see you are mistaken. We want to assist the law like all +Englishmen, and we don't want Scotland Yard to be making fools of +themselves. That's so, uncle?' +</P> + +<P> +'Certainly, Bob.' The old fellow seemed to be recovering his voice. +'Certainly, we'll do anything in our power to assist the authorities. +But—but this is a bit too much. I can't get over it.' +</P> + +<P> +'How Nellie will chuckle,' said the plump man. 'She always said that +you would die of boredom because nothing ever happened to you. And now +you've got it thick and strong,' and he began to laugh very pleasantly. +</P> + +<P> +'By Jove, yes. Just think of it! What a story to tell at the club. +Really, Mr Hannay, I suppose I should be angry, to show my innocence, +but it's too funny! I almost forgive you the fright you gave me! You +looked so glum, I thought I might have been walking in my sleep and +killing people.' +</P> + +<P> +It couldn't be acting, it was too confoundedly genuine. My heart went +into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and clear out. +But I told myself I must see it through, even though I was to be the +laughing-stock of Britain. The light from the dinner-table +candlesticks was not very good, and to cover my confusion I got up, +walked to the door and switched on the electric light. The sudden +glare made them blink, and I stood scanning the three faces. +</P> + +<P> +Well, I made nothing of it. One was old and bald, one was stout, one +was dark and thin. There was nothing in their appearance to prevent +them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but there was +nothing to identify them. I simply can't explain why I who, as a +roadman, had looked into two pairs of eyes, and as Ned Ainslie into +another pair, why I, who have a good memory and reasonable powers of +observation, could find no satisfaction. They seemed exactly what they +professed to be, and I could not have sworn to one of them. +</P> + +<P> +There in that pleasant dining-room, with etchings on the walls, and a +picture of an old lady in a bib above the mantelpiece, I could see +nothing to connect them with the moorland desperadoes. There was a +silver cigarette-box beside me, and I saw that it had been won by +Percival Appleton, Esq., of the St Bede's Club, in a golf tournament. +I had to keep a firm hold of Peter Pienaar to prevent myself bolting +out of that house. +</P> + +<P> +'Well,' said the old man politely, 'are you reassured by your scrutiny, +Sir?' +</P> + +<P> +I couldn't find a word. +</P> + +<P> +'I hope you'll find it consistent with your duty to drop this +ridiculous business. I make no complaint, but you'll see how annoying +it must be to respectable people.' +</P> + +<P> +I shook my head. +</P> + +<P> +'O Lord,' said the young man. 'This is a bit too thick!' +</P> + +<P> +'Do you propose to march us off to the police station?' asked the plump +one. 'That might be the best way out of it, but I suppose you won't be +content with the local branch. I have the right to ask to see your +warrant, but I don't wish to cast any aspersions upon you. You are +only doing your duty. But you'll admit it's horribly awkward. What do +you propose to do?' +</P> + +<P> +There was nothing to do except to call in my men and have them +arrested, or to confess my blunder and clear out. I felt mesmerized by +the whole place, by the air of obvious innocence—not innocence merely, +but frank honest bewilderment and concern in the three faces. +</P> + +<P> +'Oh, Peter Pienaar,' I groaned inwardly, and for a moment I was very +near damning myself for a fool and asking their pardon. +</P> + +<P> +'Meantime I vote we have a game of bridge,' said the plump one. 'It +will give Mr Hannay time to think over things, and you know we have +been wanting a fourth player. Do you play, Sir?' +</P> + +<P> +I accepted as if it had been an ordinary invitation at the club. The +whole business had mesmerized me. We went into the smoking-room where +a card-table was set out, and I was offered things to smoke and drink. +I took my place at the table in a kind of dream. The window was open +and the moon was flooding the cliffs and sea with a great tide of +yellow light. There was moonshine, too, in my head. The three had +recovered their composure, and were talking easily—just the kind of +slangy talk you will hear in any golf club-house. I must have cut a +rum figure, sitting there knitting my brows with my eyes wandering. +</P> + +<P> +My partner was the young dark one. I play a fair hand at bridge, but I +must have been rank bad that night. They saw that they had got me +puzzled, and that put them more than ever at their ease. I kept +looking at their faces, but they conveyed nothing to me. It was not +that they looked different; they were different. I clung desperately +to the words of Peter Pienaar. +</P> + +<P> +Then something awoke me. +</P> + +<P> +The old man laid down his hand to light a cigar. He didn't pick it up +at once, but sat back for a moment in his chair, with his fingers +tapping on his knees. +</P> + +<P> +It was the movement I remembered when I had stood before him in the +moorland farm, with the pistols of his servants behind me. +</P> + +<P> +A little thing, lasting only a second, and the odds were a thousand to +one that I might have had my eyes on my cards at the time and missed +it. But I didn't, and, in a flash, the air seemed to clear. Some +shadow lifted from my brain, and I was looking at the three men with +full and absolute recognition. +</P> + +<P> +The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o'clock. +</P> + +<P> +The three faces seemed to change before my eyes and reveal their +secrets. The young one was the murderer. Now I saw cruelty and +ruthlessness, where before I had only seen good-humour. His knife, I +made certain, had skewered Scudder to the floor. His kind had put the +bullet in Karolides. +</P> + +<P> +The plump man's features seemed to dislimn, and form again, as I looked +at them. He hadn't a face, only a hundred masks that he could assume +when he pleased. That chap must have been a superb actor. Perhaps he +had been Lord Alloa of the night before; perhaps not; it didn't matter. +I wondered if he was the fellow who had first tracked Scudder, and left +his card on him. Scudder had said he lisped, and I could imagine how +the adoption of a lisp might add terror. +</P> + +<P> +But the old man was the pick of the lot. He was sheer brain, icy, +cool, calculating, as ruthless as a steam hammer. Now that my eyes +were opened I wondered where I had seen the benevolence. His jaw was +like chilled steel, and his eyes had the inhuman luminosity of a +bird's. I went on playing, and every second a greater hate welled up +in my heart. It almost choked me, and I couldn't answer when my +partner spoke. Only a little longer could I endure their company. +</P> + +<P> +'Whew! Bob! Look at the time,' said the old man. 'You'd better think +about catching your train. Bob's got to go to town tonight,' he added, +turning to me. The voice rang now as false as hell. I looked at the +clock, and it was nearly half-past ten. +</P> + +<P> +'I am afraid he must put off his journey,' I said. +</P> + +<P> +'Oh, damn,' said the young man. 'I thought you had dropped that rot. +I've simply got to go. You can have my address, and I'll give any +security you like.' +</P> + +<P> +'No,' I said, 'you must stay.' +</P> + +<P> +At that I think they must have realized that the game was desperate. +Their only chance had been to convince me that I was playing the fool, +and that had failed. But the old man spoke again. +</P> + +<P> +'I'll go bail for my nephew. That ought to content you, Mr Hannay.' +Was it fancy, or did I detect some halt in the smoothness of that voice? +</P> + +<P> +There must have been, for as I glanced at him, his eyelids fell in that +hawk-like hood which fear had stamped on my memory. +</P> + +<P> +I blew my whistle. +</P> + +<P> +In an instant the lights were out. A pair of strong arms gripped me +round the waist, covering the pockets in which a man might be expected +to carry a pistol. +</P> + +<P> +'<i>Schnell, Franz,</i>' cried a voice, '<i>Das Boot, das Boot</i>!' As it spoke I +saw two of my fellows emerge on the moonlit lawn. +</P> + +<P> +The young dark man leapt for the window, was through it, and over the +low fence before a hand could touch him. I grappled the old chap, and +the room seemed to fill with figures. I saw the plump one collared, +but my eyes were all for the out-of-doors, where Franz sped on over the +road towards the railed entrance to the beach stairs. One man followed +him, but he had no chance. The gate of the stairs locked behind the +fugitive, and I stood staring, with my hands on the old boy's throat, +for such a time as a man might take to descend those steps to the sea. +</P> + +<P> +Suddenly my prisoner broke from me and flung himself on the wall. +There was a click as if a lever had been pulled. Then came a low +rumbling far, far below the ground, and through the window I saw a +cloud of chalky dust pouring out of the shaft of the stairway. +</P> + +<P> +Someone switched on the light. +</P> + +<P> +The old man was looking at me with blazing eyes. +</P> + +<P> +'He is safe,' he cried. 'You cannot follow in time ... He is gone ... +He has triumphed ... <i>Der Schwarze Stein ist in der Siegeskrone.</i>' +</P> + +<P> +There was more in those eyes than any common triumph. They had been +hooded like a bird of prey, and now they flamed with a hawk's pride. A +white fanatic heat burned in them, and I realized for the first time +the terrible thing I had been up against. This man was more than a +spy; in his foul way he had been a patriot. +</P> + +<P> +As the handcuffs clinked on his wrists I said my last word to him. +</P> + +<P> +'I hope Franz will bear his triumph well. I ought to tell you that the +<i>Ariadne</i> for the last hour has been in our hands.' +</P> + +<BR> + +<P> +Three weeks later, as all the world knows, we went to war. I joined +the New Army the first week, and owing to my Matabele experience got a +captain's commission straight off. But I had done my best service, I +think, before I put on khaki. +</P> + +<BR><BR><BR><BR> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirty-nine Steps, by John Buchan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + +***** This file should be named 558-h.htm or 558-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/558/ + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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Thus, we do not necessarily +keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper edition. + + +Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search facility: + + http://www.gutenberg.net + +This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, +including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary +Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to +subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. + + +</pre> + +</BODY> + +</HTML> + + diff --git a/old/558-h-20131025.zip b/old/558-h-20131025.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..33b22bc --- /dev/null +++ b/old/558-h-20131025.zip diff --git a/old/558.txt b/old/558.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..214e3e9 --- /dev/null +++ b/old/558.txt @@ -0,0 +1,4643 @@ + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirty-nine Steps, by John Buchan + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net + + +Title: The Thirty-nine Steps + +Author: John Buchan + +Posting Date: July 30, 2008 [EBook #558] +Release Date: June, 1996 +[Last updated: October 25, 2013] +[Last updated: October 30, 2018] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. +Corrections by Menno de Leeuw. + + + +The Thirty-Nine Steps + + +by John Buchan + + + + +Contents + + +Chapter I The Man Who Died +Chapter II The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels +Chapter III The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper +Chapter IV The Adventure of the Radical Candidate +Chapter V The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman +Chapter VI The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist +Chapter VII The Dry-Fly Fisherman +Chapter VIII The Coming of the Black Stone +Chapter IX The Thirty-Nine Steps +Chapter X Various Parties Converging on the Sea + + + +TO +THOMAS ARTHUR NELSON +(LOTHIAN AND BORDER HORSE) + +My Dear Tommy, + + You and I have long cherished an affection for that elemental type of + tale which Americans call the “dime novel” and which we know as the + “shocker”—the romance where the incidents defy the probabilities, and + march just inside the borders of the possible. During an illness last + winter I exhausted my store of those aids to cheerfulness, and was + driven to write one for myself. This little volume is the result, and + I should like to put your name on it in memory of our long friendship, + in the days when the wildest fictions are so much less improbable than + the facts. + +J.B. + +Sept. 1915 + + + +Chapter I + + + The Man Who Died + +I returned from the City about three o’clock on that May afternoon +pretty well disgusted with life. I had been three months in the Old +Country, and was fed up with it. If anyone had told me a year ago that +I would have been feeling like that I should have laughed at him; but +there was the fact. The weather made me liverish, the talk of the +ordinary Englishman made me sick. I couldn’t get enough exercise, and +the amusements of London seemed as flat as soda-water that has been +standing in the sun. “Richard Hannay,” I kept telling myself, “you have +got into the wrong ditch, my friend, and you had better climb out.” + +It made me bite my lips to think of the plans I had been building up +those last years in Buluwayo. I had got my pile—not one of the big +ones, but good enough for me; and I had figured out all kinds of ways +of enjoying myself. My father had brought me out from Scotland at the +age of six, and I had never been home since; so England was a sort of +Arabian Nights to me, and I counted on stopping there for the rest of +my days. + +But from the first I was disappointed with it. In about a week I was +tired of seeing sights, and in less than a month I had had enough of +restaurants and theatres and race-meetings. I had no real pal to go +about with, which probably explains things. Plenty of people invited me +to their houses, but they didn’t seem much interested in me. They would +fling me a question or two about South Africa, and then get on to their +own affairs. A lot of Imperialist ladies asked me to tea to meet +schoolmasters from New Zealand and editors from Vancouver, and that was +the dismalest business of all. Here was I, thirty-seven years old, +sound in wind and limb, with enough money to have a good time, yawning +my head off all day. I had just about settled to clear out and get back +to the veld, for I was the best bored man in the United Kingdom. + +That afternoon I had been worrying my brokers about investments to give +my mind something to work on, and on my way home I turned into my +club—rather a pot-house, which took in Colonial members. I had a long +drink, and read the evening papers. They were full of the row in the +Near East, and there was an article about Karolides, the Greek Premier. +I rather fancied the chap. From all accounts he seemed the one big man +in the show; and he played a straight game too, which was more than +could be said for most of them. I gathered that they hated him pretty +blackly in Berlin and Vienna, but that we were going to stick by him, +and one paper said that he was the only barrier between Europe and +Armageddon. I remember wondering if I could get a job in those parts. +It struck me that Albania was the sort of place that might keep a man +from yawning. + +About six o’clock I went home, dressed, dined at the Café Royal, and +turned into a music-hall. It was a silly show, all capering women and +monkey-faced men, and I did not stay long. The night was fine and clear +as I walked back to the flat I had hired near Portland Place. The crowd +surged past me on the pavements, busy and chattering, and I envied the +people for having something to do. These shop-girls and clerks and +dandies and policemen had some interest in life that kept them going. I +gave half-a-crown to a beggar because I saw him yawn; he was a +fellow-sufferer. At Oxford Circus I looked up into the spring sky and I +made a vow. I would give the Old Country another day to fit me into +something; if nothing happened, I would take the next boat for the +Cape. + +My flat was the first floor in a new block behind Langham Place. There +was a common staircase, with a porter and a liftman at the entrance, +but there was no restaurant or anything of that sort, and each flat was +quite shut off from the others. I hate servants on the premises, so I +had a fellow to look after me who came in by the day. He arrived before +eight o’clock every morning and used to depart at seven, for I never +dined at home. + +I was just fitting my key into the door when I noticed a man at my +elbow. I had not seen him approach, and the sudden appearance made me +start. He was a slim man, with a short brown beard and small, gimlety +blue eyes. I recognized him as the occupant of a flat on the top floor, +with whom I had passed the time of day on the stairs. + +“Can I speak to you?” he said. “May I come in for a minute?” He was +steadying his voice with an effort, and his hand was pawing my arm. + +I got my door open and motioned him in. No sooner was he over the +threshold than he made a dash for my back room, where I used to smoke +and write my letters. Then he bolted back. + +“Is the door locked?” he asked feverishly, and he fastened the chain +with his own hand. + +“I’m very sorry,” he said humbly. “It’s a mighty liberty, but you +looked the kind of man who would understand. I’ve had you in my mind +all this week when things got troublesome. Say, will you do me a good +turn?” + +“I’ll listen to you,” I said. “That’s all I’ll promise.” I was getting +worried by the antics of this nervous little chap. + +There was a tray of drinks on a table beside him, from which he filled +himself a stiff whisky-and-soda. He drank it off in three gulps, and +cracked the glass as he set it down. + +“Pardon,” he said, “I’m a bit rattled tonight. You see, I happen at +this moment to be dead.” + +I sat down in an armchair and lit my pipe. + +“What does it feel like?” I asked. I was pretty certain that I had to +deal with a madman. + +A smile flickered over his drawn face. “I’m not mad—yet. Say, sir, I’ve +been watching you, and I reckon you’re a cool customer. I reckon, too, +you’re an honest man, and not afraid of playing a bold hand. I’m going +to confide in you. I need help worse than any man ever needed it, and I +want to know if I can count you in.” + +“Get on with your yarn,” I said, “and I’ll tell you.” + +He seemed to brace himself for a great effort, and then started on the +queerest rigmarole. I didn’t get hold of it at first, and I had to stop +and ask him questions. But here is the gist of it: + +He was an American, from Kentucky, and after college, being pretty well +off, he had started out to see the world. He wrote a bit, and acted as +war correspondent for a Chicago paper, and spent a year or two in +South-Eastern Europe. I gathered that he was a fine linguist, and had +got to know pretty well the society in those parts. He spoke familiarly +of many names that I remembered to have seen in the newspapers. + +He had played about with politics, he told me, at first for the +interest of them, and then because he couldn’t help himself. I read him +as a sharp, restless fellow, who always wanted to get down to the roots +of things. He got a little further down than he wanted. + +I am giving you what he told me as well as I could make it out. Away +behind all the Governments and the armies there was a big subterranean +movement going on, engineered by very dangerous people. He had come on +it by accident; it fascinated him; he went further, and then he got +caught. I gathered that most of the people in it were the sort of +educated anarchists that make revolutions, but that beside them there +were financiers who were playing for money. A clever man can make big +profits on a falling market, and it suited the book of both classes to +set Europe by the ears. + +He told me some queer things that explained a lot that had puzzled +me—things that happened in the Balkan War, how one state suddenly came +out on top, why alliances were made and broken, why certain men +disappeared, and where the sinews of war came from. The aim of the +whole conspiracy was to get Russia and Germany at loggerheads. + +When I asked why, he said that the anarchist lot thought it would give +them their chance. Everything would be in the melting-pot, and they +looked to see a new world emerge. The capitalists would rake in the +shekels, and make fortunes by buying up wreckage. Capital, he said, had +no conscience and no fatherland. Besides, the Jew was behind it, and +the Jew hated Russia worse than hell. + +“Do you wonder?” he cried. “For three hundred years they have been +persecuted, and this is the return match for the _pogroms_. The Jew is +everywhere, but you have to go far down the backstairs to find him. +Take any big Teutonic business concern. If you have dealings with it +the first man you meet is Prince _von und zu_ Something, an elegant +young man who talks Eton-and-Harrow English. But he cuts no ice. If +your business is big, you get behind him and find a prognathous +Westphalian with a retreating brow and the manners of a hog. He is the +German business man that gives your English papers the shakes. But if +you’re on the biggest kind of job and are bound to get to the real +boss, ten to one you are brought up against a little white-faced Jew in +a bath-chair with an eye like a rattlesnake. Yes, sir, he is the man +who is ruling the world just now, and he has his knife in the Empire of +the Tsar, because his aunt was outraged and his father flogged in some +one-horse location on the Volga.” + +I could not help saying that his Jew-anarchists seemed to have got left +behind a little. + +“Yes and no,” he said. “They won up to a point, but they struck a +bigger thing than money, a thing that couldn’t be bought, the old +elemental fighting instincts of man. If you’re going to be killed you +invent some kind of flag and country to fight for, and if you survive +you get to love the thing. Those foolish devils of soldiers have found +something they care for, and that has upset the pretty plan laid in +Berlin and Vienna. But my friends haven’t played their last card by a +long sight. They’ve gotten the ace up their sleeves, and unless I can +keep alive for a month they are going to play it and win.” + +“But I thought you were dead,” I put in. + +“_Mors janua vitæ_,” he smiled. (I recognized the quotation: it was +about all the Latin I knew.) “I’m coming to that, but I’ve got to put +you wise about a lot of things first. If you read your newspaper, I +guess you know the name of Constantine Karolides?” + +I sat up at that, for I had been reading about him that very afternoon. + +“He is the man that has wrecked all their games. He is the one big +brain in the whole show, and he happens also to be an honest man. +Therefore he has been marked down these twelve months past. I found +that out—not that it was difficult, for any fool could guess as much. +But I found out the way they were going to get him, and that knowledge +was deadly. That’s why I have had to decease.” + +He had another drink, and I mixed it for him myself, for I was getting +interested in the beggar. + +“They can’t get him in his own land, for he has a bodyguard of Epirotes +that would skin their grandmothers. But on the 15th day of June he is +coming to this city. The British Foreign Office has taken to having +international tea-parties, and the biggest of them is due on that date. +Now Karolides is reckoned the principal guest, and if my friends have +their way he will never return to his admiring countrymen.” + +“That’s simple enough, anyhow,” I said. “You can warn him and keep him +at home.” + +“And play their game?” he asked sharply. “If he does not come they win, +for he’s the only man that can straighten out the tangle. And if his +Government are warned he won’t come, for he does not know how big the +stakes will be on June the 15th.” + +“What about the British Government?” I said. “They’re not going to let +their guests be murdered. Tip them the wink, and they’ll take extra +precautions.” + +“No good. They might stuff your city with plain-clothes detectives and +double the police and Constantine would still be a doomed man. My +friends are not playing this game for candy. They want a big occasion +for the taking off, with the eyes of all Europe on it. He’ll be +murdered by an Austrian, and there’ll be plenty of evidence to show the +connivance of the big folk in Vienna and Berlin. It will all be an +infernal lie, of course, but the case will look black enough to the +world. I’m not talking hot air, my friend. I happen to know every +detail of the hellish contrivance, and I can tell you it will be the +most finished piece of blackguardism since the Borgias. But it’s not +going to come off if there’s a certain man who knows the wheels of the +business alive right here in London on the 15th day of June. And that +man is going to be your servant, Franklin P. Scudder.” + +I was getting to like the little chap. His jaw had shut like a +rat-trap, and there was the fire of battle in his gimlety eyes. If he +was spinning me a yarn he could act up to it. + +“Where did you find out this story?” I asked. + +“I got the first hint in an inn on the Achensee in Tyrol. That set me +inquiring, and I collected my other clues in a fur-shop in the Galician +quarter of Buda, in a Strangers’ Club in Vienna, and in a little +bookshop off the Racknitzstrasse in Leipsig. I completed my evidence +ten days ago in Paris. I can’t tell you the details now, for it’s +something of a history. When I was quite sure in my own mind I judged +it my business to disappear, and I reached this city by a mighty queer +circuit. I left Paris a dandified young French-American, and I sailed +from Hamburg a Jew diamond merchant. In Norway I was an English student +of Ibsen collecting materials for lectures, but when I left Bergen I +was a cinema-man with special ski films. And I came here from Leith +with a lot of pulp-wood propositions in my pocket to put before the +London newspapers. Till yesterday I thought I had muddied my trail +some, and was feeling pretty happy. Then....” + +The recollection seemed to upset him, and he gulped down some more +whisky. + +“Then I saw a man standing in the street outside this block. I used to +stay close in my room all day, and only slip out after dark for an hour +or two. I watched him for a bit from my window, and I thought I +recognized him.... He came in and spoke to the porter.... When I came +back from my walk last night I found a card in my letter-box. It bore +the name of the man I want least to meet on God’s earth.” + +I think that the look in my companion’s eyes, the sheer naked scare on +his face, completed my conviction of his honesty. My own voice +sharpened a bit as I asked him what he did next. + +“I realized that I was bottled as sure as a pickled herring, and that +there was only one way out. I had to die. If my pursuers knew I was +dead they would go to sleep again.” + +“How did you manage it?” + +“I told the man that valets me that I was feeling pretty bad, and I got +myself up to look like death. That wasn’t difficult, for I’m no slouch +at disguises. Then I got a corpse—you can always get a body in London +if you know where to go for it. I fetched it back in a trunk on the top +of a four-wheeler, and I had to be assisted upstairs to my room. You +see I had to pile up some evidence for the inquest. I went to bed and +got my man to mix me a sleeping-draught, and then told him to clear +out. He wanted to fetch a doctor, but I swore some and said I couldn’t +abide leeches. When I was left alone I started in to fake up that +corpse. He was my size, and I judged had perished from too much +alcohol, so I put some spirits handy about the place. The jaw was the +weak point in the likeness, so I blew it away with a revolver. I +daresay there will be somebody tomorrow to swear to having heard a +shot, but there are no neighbours on my floor, and I guessed I could +risk it. So I left the body in bed dressed up in my pyjamas, with a +revolver lying on the bed-clothes and a considerable mess around. Then +I got into a suit of clothes I had kept waiting for emergencies. I +didn’t dare to shave for fear of leaving tracks, and besides, it wasn’t +any kind of use my trying to get into the streets. I had had you in my +mind all day, and there seemed nothing to do but to make an appeal to +you. I watched from my window till I saw you come home, and then +slipped down the stair to meet you.... There, sir, I guess you know +about as much as me of this business.” + +He sat blinking like an owl, fluttering with nerves and yet desperately +determined. By this time I was pretty well convinced that he was going +straight with me. It was the wildest sort of narrative, but I had heard +in my time many steep tales which had turned out to be true, and I had +made a practice of judging the man rather than the story. If he had +wanted to get a location in my flat, and then cut my throat, he would +have pitched a milder yarn. + +“Hand me your key,” I said, “and I’ll take a look at the corpse. Excuse +my caution, but I’m bound to verify a bit if I can.” + +He shook his head mournfully. “I reckoned you’d ask for that, but I +haven’t got it. It’s on my chain on the dressing-table. I had to leave +it behind, for I couldn’t leave any clues to breed suspicions. The +gentry who are after me are pretty bright-eyed citizens. You’ll have to +take me on trust for the night, and tomorrow you’ll get proof of the +corpse business right enough.” + +I thought for an instant or two. “Right. I’ll trust you for the night. +I’ll lock you into this room and keep the key. Just one word, Mr +Scudder. I believe you’re straight, but if so be you are not I should +warn you that I’m a handy man with a gun.” + +“Sure,” he said, jumping up with some briskness. “I haven’t the +privilege of your name, sir, but let me tell you that you’re a white +man. I’ll thank you to lend me a razor.” + +I took him into my bedroom and turned him loose. In half an hour’s time +a figure came out that I scarcely recognized. Only his gimlety, hungry +eyes were the same. He was shaved clean, his hair was parted in the +middle, and he had cut his eyebrows. Further, he carried himself as if +he had been drilled, and was the very model, even to the brown +complexion, of some British officer who had had a long spell in India. +He had a monocle, too, which he stuck in his eye, and every trace of +the American had gone out of his speech. + +“My hat! Mr Scudder—” I stammered. + +“Not Mr Scudder,” he corrected; “Captain Theophilus Digby, of the 40th +Gurkhas, presently home on leave. I’ll thank you to remember that, +sir.” + +I made him up a bed in my smoking-room and sought my own couch, more +cheerful than I had been for the past month. Things did happen +occasionally, even in this God-forgotten metropolis. + + + +I woke next morning to hear my man, Paddock, making the deuce of a row +at the smoking-room door. Paddock was a fellow I had done a good turn +to out on the Selakwe, and I had inspanned him as my servant as soon as +I got to England. He had about as much gift of the gab as a +hippopotamus, and was not a great hand at valeting, but I knew I could +count on his loyalty. + +“Stop that row, Paddock,” I said. “There’s a friend of mine, +Captain—Captain” (I couldn’t remember the name) “dossing down in there. +Get breakfast for two and then come and speak to me.” + +I told Paddock a fine story about how my friend was a great swell, with +his nerves pretty bad from overwork, who wanted absolute rest and +stillness. Nobody had got to know he was here, or he would be besieged +by communications from the India Office and the Prime Minister and his +cure would be ruined. I am bound to say Scudder played up splendidly +when he came to breakfast. He fixed Paddock with his eyeglass, just +like a British officer, asked him about the Boer War, and slung out at +me a lot of stuff about imaginary pals. Paddock couldn’t learn to call +me “sir’, but he “sirred’ Scudder as if his life depended on it. + +I left him with the newspaper and a box of cigars, and went down to the +City till luncheon. When I got back the liftman had an important face. + +“Nawsty business ’ere this morning, sir. Gent in No. 15 been and shot +’isself. They’ve just took ’im to the mortiary. The police are up there +now.” + +I ascended to No. 15, and found a couple of bobbies and an inspector +busy making an examination. I asked a few idiotic questions, and they +soon kicked me out. Then I found the man that had valeted Scudder, and +pumped him, but I could see he suspected nothing. He was a whining +fellow with a churchyard face, and half-a-crown went far to console +him. + +I attended the inquest next day. A partner of some publishing firm gave +evidence that the deceased had brought him wood-pulp propositions, and +had been, he believed, an agent of an American business. The jury found +it a case of suicide while of unsound mind, and the few effects were +handed over to the American Consul to deal with. I gave Scudder a full +account of the affair, and it interested him greatly. He said he wished +he could have attended the inquest, for he reckoned it would be about +as spicy as to read one’s own obituary notice. + +The first two days he stayed with me in that back room he was very +peaceful. He read and smoked a bit, and made a heap of jottings in a +note-book, and every night we had a game of chess, at which he beat me +hollow. I think he was nursing his nerves back to health, for he had +had a pretty trying time. But on the third day I could see he was +beginning to get restless. He fixed up a list of the days till June +15th, and ticked each off with a red pencil, making remarks in +shorthand against them. I would find him sunk in a brown study, with +his sharp eyes abstracted, and after those spells of meditation he was +apt to be very despondent. + +Then I could see that he began to get edgy again. He listened for +little noises, and was always asking me if Paddock could be trusted. +Once or twice he got very peevish, and apologized for it. I didn’t +blame him. I made every allowance, for he had taken on a fairly stiff +job. + +It was not the safety of his own skin that troubled him, but the +success of the scheme he had planned. That little man was clean grit +all through, without a soft spot in him. One night he was very solemn. + +“Say, Hannay,” he said, “I judge I should let you a bit deeper into +this business. I should hate to go out without leaving somebody else to +put up a fight.” And he began to tell me in detail what I had only +heard from him vaguely. + +I did not give him very close attention. The fact is, I was more +interested in his own adventures than in his high politics. I reckoned +that Karolides and his affairs were not my business, leaving all that +to him. So a lot that he said slipped clean out of my memory. I +remember that he was very clear that the danger to Karolides would not +begin till he had got to London, and would come from the very highest +quarters, where there would be no thought of suspicion. He mentioned +the name of a woman—Julia Czechenyi—as having something to do with the +danger. She would be the decoy, I gathered, to get Karolides out of the +care of his guards. He talked, too, about a Black Stone and a man that +lisped in his speech, and he described very particularly somebody that +he never referred to without a shudder—an old man with a young voice +who could hood his eyes like a hawk. + +He spoke a good deal about death, too. He was mortally anxious about +winning through with his job, but he didn’t care a rush for his life. + +“I reckon it’s like going to sleep when you are pretty well tired out, +and waking to find a summer day with the scent of hay coming in at the +window. I used to thank God for such mornings way back in the +Blue-Grass country, and I guess I’ll thank Him when I wake up on the +other side of Jordan.” + +Next day he was much more cheerful, and read the life of Stonewall +Jackson much of the time. I went out to dinner with a mining engineer I +had got to see on business, and came back about half-past ten in time +for our game of chess before turning in. + +I had a cigar in my mouth, I remember, as I pushed open the +smoking-room door. The lights were not lit, which struck me as odd. I +wondered if Scudder had turned in already. + +I snapped the switch, but there was nobody there. Then I saw something +in the far corner which made me drop my cigar and fall into a cold +sweat. + +My guest was lying sprawled on his back. There was a long knife through +his heart which skewered him to the floor. + + + +Chapter II + + + The Milkman Sets Out on his Travels + +I sat down in an armchair and felt very sick. That lasted for maybe +five minutes, and was succeeded by a fit of the horrors. The poor +staring white face on the floor was more than I could bear, and I +managed to get a table-cloth and cover it. Then I staggered to a +cupboard, found the brandy and swallowed several mouthfuls. I had seen +men die violently before; indeed I had killed a few myself in the +Matabele War; but this cold-blooded indoor business was different. +Still I managed to pull myself together. I looked at my watch, and saw +that it was half-past ten. + +An idea seized me, and I went over the flat with a small-tooth comb. +There was nobody there, nor any trace of anybody, but I shuttered and +bolted all the windows and put the chain on the door. By this time my +wits were coming back to me, and I could think again. It took me about +an hour to figure the thing out, and I did not hurry, for, unless the +murderer came back, I had till about six o’clock in the morning for my +cogitations. + +I was in the soup—that was pretty clear. Any shadow of a doubt I might +have had about the truth of Scudder’s tale was now gone. The proof of +it was lying under the table-cloth. The men who knew that he knew what +he knew had found him, and had taken the best way to make certain of +his silence. Yes; but he had been in my rooms four days, and his +enemies must have reckoned that he had confided in me. So I would be +the next to go. It might be that very night, or next day, or the day +after, but my number was up all right. + +Then suddenly I thought of another probability. Supposing I went out +now and called in the police, or went to bed and let Paddock find the +body and call them in the morning. What kind of a story was I to tell +about Scudder? I had lied to Paddock about him, and the whole thing +looked desperately fishy. If I made a clean breast of it and told the +police everything he had told me, they would simply laugh at me. The +odds were a thousand to one that I would be charged with the murder, +and the circumstantial evidence was strong enough to hang me. Few +people knew me in England; I had no real pal who could come forward and +swear to my character. Perhaps that was what those secret enemies were +playing for. They were clever enough for anything, and an English +prison was as good a way of getting rid of me till after June 15th as a +knife in my chest. + +Besides, if I told the whole story, and by any miracle was believed, I +would be playing their game. Karolides would stay at home, which was +what they wanted. Somehow or other the sight of Scudder’s dead face had +made me a passionate believer in his scheme. He was gone, but he had +taken me into his confidence, and I was pretty well bound to carry on +his work. + +You may think this ridiculous for a man in danger of his life, but that +was the way I looked at it. I am an ordinary sort of fellow, not braver +than other people, but I hate to see a good man downed, and that long +knife would not be the end of Scudder if I could play the game in his +place. + +It took me an hour or two to think this out, and by that time I had +come to a decision. I must vanish somehow, and keep vanished till the +end of the second week in June. Then I must somehow find a way to get +in touch with the Government people and tell them what Scudder had told +me. I wished to Heaven he had told me more, and that I had listened +more carefully to the little he had told me. I knew nothing but the +barest facts. There was a big risk that, even if I weathered the other +dangers, I would not be believed in the end. I must take my chance of +that, and hope that something might happen which would confirm my tale +in the eyes of the Government. + +My first job was to keep going for the next three weeks. It was now the +24th day of May, and that meant twenty days of hiding before I could +venture to approach the powers that be. I reckoned that two sets of +people would be looking for me—Scudder’s enemies to put me out of +existence, and the police, who would want me for Scudder’s murder. It +was going to be a giddy hunt, and it was queer how the prospect +comforted me. I had been slack so long that almost any chance of +activity was welcome. When I had to sit alone with that corpse and wait +on Fortune I was no better than a crushed worm, but if my neck’s safety +was to hang on my own wits I was prepared to be cheerful about it. + +My next thought was whether Scudder had any papers about him to give me +a better clue to the business. I drew back the table-cloth and searched +his pockets, for I had no longer any shrinking from the body. The face +was wonderfully calm for a man who had been struck down in a moment. +There was nothing in the breast-pocket, and only a few loose coins and +a cigar-holder in the waistcoat. The trousers held a little penknife +and some silver, and the side pocket of his jacket contained an old +crocodile-skin cigar-case. There was no sign of the little black book +in which I had seen him making notes. That had no doubt been taken by +his murderer. + +But as I looked up from my task I saw that some drawers had been pulled +out in the writing-table. Scudder would never have left them in that +state, for he was the tidiest of mortals. Someone must have been +searching for something—perhaps for the pocket-book. + +I went round the flat and found that everything had been ransacked—the +inside of books, drawers, cupboards, boxes, even the pockets of the +clothes in my wardrobe, and the sideboard in the dining-room. There was +no trace of the book. Most likely the enemy had found it, but they had +not found it on Scudder’s body. + +Then I got out an atlas and looked at a big map of the British Isles. +My notion was to get off to some wild district, where my veldcraft +would be of some use to me, for I would be like a trapped rat in a +city. I considered that Scotland would be best, for my people were +Scotch and I could pass anywhere as an ordinary Scotsman. I had half an +idea at first to be a German tourist, for my father had had German +partners, and I had been brought up to speak the tongue pretty +fluently, not to mention having put in three years prospecting for +copper in German Damaraland. But I calculated that it would be less +conspicuous to be a Scot, and less in a line with what the police might +know of my past. I fixed on Galloway as the best place to go. It was +the nearest wild part of Scotland, so far as I could figure it out, and +from the look of the map was not over thick with population. + +A search in Bradshaw informed me that a train left St Pancras at 7.10, +which would land me at any Galloway station in the late afternoon. That +was well enough, but a more important matter was how I was to make my +way to St Pancras, for I was pretty certain that Scudder’s friends +would be watching outside. This puzzled me for a bit; then I had an +inspiration, on which I went to bed and slept for two troubled hours. + +I got up at four and opened my bedroom shutters. The faint light of a +fine summer morning was flooding the skies, and the sparrows had begun +to chatter. I had a great revulsion of feeling, and felt a +God-forgotten fool. My inclination was to let things slide, and trust +to the British police taking a reasonable view of my case. But as I +reviewed the situation I could find no arguments to bring against my +decision of the previous night, so with a wry mouth I resolved to go on +with my plan. I was not feeling in any particular funk; only +disinclined to go looking for trouble, if you understand me. + +I hunted out a well-used tweed suit, a pair of strong nailed boots, and +a flannel shirt with a collar. Into my pockets I stuffed a spare shirt, +a cloth cap, some handkerchiefs, and a tooth-brush. I had drawn a good +sum in gold from the bank two days before, in case Scudder should want +money, and I took fifty pounds of it in sovereigns in a belt which I +had brought back from Rhodesia. That was about all I wanted. Then I had +a bath, and cut my moustache, which was long and drooping, into a short +stubbly fringe. + +Now came the next step. Paddock used to arrive punctually at 7.30 and +let himself in with a latch-key. But about twenty minutes to seven, as +I knew from bitter experience, the milkman turned up with a great +clatter of cans, and deposited my share outside my door. I had seen +that milkman sometimes when I had gone out for an early ride. He was a +young man about my own height, with an ill-nourished moustache, and he +wore a white overall. On him I staked all my chances. + +I went into the darkened smoking-room where the rays of morning light +were beginning to creep through the shutters. There I breakfasted off a +whisky-and-soda and some biscuits from the cupboard. By this time it +was getting on for six o’clock. I put a pipe in my pocket and filled my +pouch from the tobacco jar on the table by the fireplace. + +As I poked into the tobacco my fingers touched something hard, and I +drew out Scudder’s little black pocket-book.... + +That seemed to me a good omen. I lifted the cloth from the body and was +amazed at the peace and dignity of the dead face. “Goodbye, old chap,” +I said; “I am going to do my best for you. Wish me well, wherever you +are.” + +Then I hung about in the hall waiting for the milkman. That was the +worst part of the business, for I was fairly choking to get out of +doors. Six-thirty passed, then six-forty, but still he did not come. +The fool had chosen this day of all days to be late. + +At one minute after the quarter to seven I heard the rattle of the cans +outside. I opened the front door, and there was my man, singling out my +cans from a bunch he carried and whistling through his teeth. He jumped +a bit at the sight of me. + +“Come in here a moment,” I said. “I want a word with you.” And I led +him into the dining-room. + +“I reckon you’re a bit of a sportsman,” I said, “and I want you to do +me a service. Lend me your cap and overall for ten minutes, and here’s +a sovereign for you.” + +His eyes opened at the sight of the gold, and he grinned broadly. +“Wot’s the gyme?”he asked. + +“A bet,” I said. “I haven’t time to explain, but to win it I’ve got to +be a milkman for the next ten minutes. All you’ve got to do is to stay +here till I come back. You’ll be a bit late, but nobody will complain, +and you’ll have that quid for yourself.” + +“Right-o!” he said cheerily. “I ain’t the man to spoil a bit of sport. +’Ere’s the rig, guv’nor.” + +I stuck on his flat blue hat and his white overall, picked up the cans, +banged my door, and went whistling downstairs. The porter at the foot +told me to shut my jaw, which sounded as if my make-up was adequate. + +At first I thought there was nobody in the street. Then I caught sight +of a policeman a hundred yards down, and a loafer shuffling past on the +other side. Some impulse made me raise my eyes to the house opposite, +and there at a first-floor window was a face. As the loafer passed he +looked up, and I fancied a signal was exchanged. + +I crossed the street, whistling gaily and imitating the jaunty swing of +the milkman. Then I took the first side street, and went up a left-hand +turning which led past a bit of vacant ground. There was no one in the +little street, so I dropped the milk-cans inside the hoarding and sent +the cap and overall after them. I had only just put on my cloth cap +when a postman came round the corner. I gave him good morning and he +answered me unsuspiciously. At the moment the clock of a neighbouring +church struck the hour of seven. + +There was not a second to spare. As soon as I got to Euston Road I took +to my heels and ran. The clock at Euston Station showed five minutes +past the hour. At St Pancras I had no time to take a ticket, let alone +that I had not settled upon my destination. A porter told me the +platform, and as I entered it I saw the train already in motion. Two +station officials blocked the way, but I dodged them and clambered into +the last carriage. + +Three minutes later, as we were roaring through the northern tunnels, +an irate guard interviewed me. He wrote out for me a ticket to +Newton-Stewart, a name which had suddenly come back to my memory, and +he conducted me from the first-class compartment where I had ensconced +myself to a third-class smoker, occupied by a sailor and a stout woman +with a child. He went off grumbling, and as I mopped my brow I observed +to my companions in my broadest Scots that it was a sore job catching +trains. I had already entered upon my part. + +“The impidence o’ that gyaird!” said the lady bitterly. “He needit a +Scotch tongue to pit him in his place. He was complainin’ o’ this wean +no haein’ a ticket and her no fower till August twalmonth, and he was +objectin’ to this gentleman spittin’.” + +The sailor morosely agreed, and I started my new life in an atmosphere +of protest against authority. I reminded myself that a week ago I had +been finding the world dull. + + + +Chapter III + + + The Adventure of the Literary Innkeeper + +I had a solemn time travelling north that day. It was fine May weather, +with the hawthorn flowering on every hedge, and I asked myself why, +when I was still a free man, I had stayed on in London and not got the +good of this heavenly country. I didn’t dare face the restaurant car, +but I got a luncheon-basket at Leeds and shared it with the fat woman. +Also I got the morning’s papers, with news about starters for the Derby +and the beginning of the cricket season, and some paragraphs about how +Balkan affairs were settling down and a British squadron was going to +Kiel. + +When I had done with them I got out Scudder’s little black pocket-book +and studied it. It was pretty well filled with jottings, chiefly +figures, though now and then a name was printed in. For example, I +found the words “Hofgaard”, “Luneville”, and “Avocado” pretty often, +and especially the word “Pavia”. + +Now I was certain that Scudder never did anything without a reason, and +I was pretty sure that there was a cypher in all this. That is a +subject which has always interested me, and I did a bit at it myself +once as intelligence officer at Delagoa Bay during the Boer War. I have +a head for things like chess and puzzles, and I used to reckon myself +pretty good at finding out cyphers. This one looked like the numerical +kind where sets of figures correspond to the letters of the alphabet, +but any fairly shrewd man can find the clue to that sort after an hour +or two’s work, and I didn’t think Scudder would have been content with +anything so easy. So I fastened on the printed words, for you can make +a pretty good numerical cypher if you have a key word which gives you +the sequence of the letters. + +I tried for hours, but none of the words answered. Then I fell asleep +and woke at Dumfries just in time to bundle out and get into the slow +Galloway train. There was a man on the platform whose looks I didn’t +like, but he never glanced at me, and when I caught sight of myself in +the mirror of an automatic machine I didn’t wonder. With my brown face, +my old tweeds, and my slouch, I was the very model of one of the hill +farmers who were crowding into the third-class carriages. + +I travelled with half a dozen in an atmosphere of shag and clay pipes. +They had come from the weekly market, and their mouths were full of +prices. I heard accounts of how the lambing had gone up the Cairn and +the Deuch and a dozen other mysterious waters. Above half the men had +lunched heavily and were highly flavoured with whisky, so they took no +notice of me. We rumbled slowly into a land of little wooded glens and +then to a great wide moorland place, gleaming with lochs, with high +blue hills showing northwards. + +About five o’clock the carriage had emptied, and I was left alone as I +had hoped. I got out at the next station, a little place whose name I +scarcely noted, set right in the heart of a bog. It reminded me of one +of those forgotten little stations in the Karroo. An old station-master +was digging in his garden, and with his spade over his shoulder +sauntered to the train, took charge of a parcel, and went back to his +potatoes. A child of ten received my ticket, and I emerged on a white +road that straggled over the brown moor. + +It was a gorgeous spring evening, with every hill showing as clear as a +cut amethyst. The air had the queer, rooty smell of bogs, but it was as +fresh as mid-ocean, and it had the strangest effect on my spirits. I +actually felt light-hearted. I might have been a boy out for a spring +holiday tramp, instead of a man of thirty-seven very much wanted by the +police. I felt just as I used to feel when I was starting for a big +trek on a frosty morning on the high veld. If you believe me, I swung +along that road whistling. There was no plan of campaign in my head, +only just to go on and on in this blessed, honest-smelling hill +country, for every mile put me in better humour with myself. + +In a roadside planting I cut a walking-stick of hazel, and presently +struck off the highway up a by-path which followed the glen of a +brawling stream. I reckoned that I was still far ahead of any pursuit, +and for that night might please myself. It was some hours since I had +tasted food, and I was getting very hungry when I came to a herd’s +cottage set in a nook beside a waterfall. A brown-faced woman was +standing by the door, and greeted me with the kindly shyness of +moorland places. When I asked for a night’s lodging she said I was +welcome to the “bed in the loft”, and very soon she set before me a +hearty meal of ham and eggs, scones, and thick sweet milk. + +At the darkening her man came in from the hills, a lean giant, who in +one step covered as much ground as three paces of ordinary mortals. +They asked me no questions, for they had the perfect breeding of all +dwellers in the wilds, but I could see they set me down as a kind of +dealer, and I took some trouble to confirm their view. I spoke a lot +about cattle, of which my host knew little, and I picked up from him a +good deal about the local Galloway markets, which I tucked away in my +memory for future use. At ten I was nodding in my chair, and the “bed +in the loft” received a weary man who never opened his eyes till five +o’clock set the little homestead a-going once more. + +They refused any payment, and by six I had breakfasted and was striding +southwards again. My notion was to return to the railway line a station +or two farther on than the place where I had alighted yesterday and to +double back. I reckoned that that was the safest way, for the police +would naturally assume that I was always making farther from London in +the direction of some western port. I thought I had still a good bit of +a start, for, as I reasoned, it would take some hours to fix the blame +on me, and several more to identify the fellow who got on board the +train at St Pancras. + +It was the same jolly, clear spring weather, and I simply could not +contrive to feel careworn. Indeed I was in better spirits than I had +been for months. Over a long ridge of moorland I took my road, skirting +the side of a high hill which the herd had called Cairnsmore of Fleet. +Nesting curlews and plovers were crying everywhere, and the links of +green pasture by the streams were dotted with young lambs. All the +slackness of the past months was slipping from my bones, and I stepped +out like a four-year-old. By-and-by I came to a swell of moorland which +dipped to the vale of a little river, and a mile away in the heather I +saw the smoke of a train. + +The station, when I reached it, proved to be ideal for my purpose. The +moor surged up around it and left room only for the single line, the +slender siding, a waiting-room, an office, the station-master’s +cottage, and a tiny yard of gooseberries and sweet-william. There +seemed no road to it from anywhere, and to increase the desolation the +waves of a tarn lapped on their grey granite beach half a mile away. I +waited in the deep heather till I saw the smoke of an east-going train +on the horizon. Then I approached the tiny booking-office and took a +ticket for Dumfries. + +The only occupants of the carriage were an old shepherd and his dog—a +wall-eyed brute that I mistrusted. The man was asleep, and on the +cushions beside him was that morning’s _Scotsman_. Eagerly I seized on +it, for I fancied it would tell me something. + +There were two columns about the Portland Place Murder, as it was +called. My man Paddock had given the alarm and had the milkman +arrested. Poor devil, it looked as if the latter had earned his +sovereign hardly; but for me he had been cheap at the price, for he +seemed to have occupied the police for the better part of the day. In +the latest news I found a further instalment of the story. The milkman +had been released, I read, and the true criminal, about whose identity +the police were reticent, was believed to have got away from London by +one of the northern lines. There was a short note about me as the owner +of the flat. I guessed the police had stuck that in, as a clumsy +contrivance to persuade me that I was unsuspected. + +There was nothing else in the paper, nothing about foreign politics or +Karolides, or the things that had interested Scudder. I laid it down, +and found that we were approaching the station at which I had got out +yesterday. The potato-digging station-master had been gingered up into +some activity, for the west-going train was waiting to let us pass, and +from it had descended three men who were asking him questions. I +supposed that they were the local police, who had been stirred up by +Scotland Yard, and had traced me as far as this one-horse siding. +Sitting well back in the shadow I watched them carefully. One of them +had a book, and took down notes. The old potato-digger seemed to have +turned peevish, but the child who had collected my ticket was talking +volubly. All the party looked out across the moor where the white road +departed. I hoped they were going to take up my tracks there. + +As we moved away from that station my companion woke up. He fixed me +with a wandering glance, kicked his dog viciously, and inquired where +he was. Clearly he was very drunk. + +“That’s what comes o’ bein’ a teetotaller,” he observed in bitter +regret. + +I expressed my surprise that in him I should have met a blue-ribbon +stalwart. + +“Ay, but I’m a strong teetotaller,” he said pugnaciously. “I took the +pledge last Martinmas, and I havena touched a drop o’ whisky sinsyne. +Not even at Hogmanay, though I was sair temptit.” + +He swung his heels up on the seat, and burrowed a frowsy head into the +cushions. + +“And that’s a’ I get,” he moaned. “A heid better than hell fire, and +twae een lookin’ different ways for the Sabbath.” + +“What did it?” I asked. + +“A drink they ca’ brandy. Bein’ a teetotaller I keepit off the whisky, +but I was nip-nippin’ a’ day at this brandy, and I doubt I’ll no be +weel for a fortnicht.” His voice died away into a splutter, and sleep +once more laid its heavy hand on him. + +My plan had been to get out at some station down the line, but the +train suddenly gave me a better chance, for it came to a standstill at +the end of a culvert which spanned a brawling porter-coloured river. I +looked out and saw that every carriage window was closed and no human +figure appeared in the landscape. So I opened the door, and dropped +quickly into the tangle of hazels which edged the line. + +It would have been all right but for that infernal dog. Under the +impression that I was decamping with its master’s belongings, it +started to bark, and all but got me by the trousers. This woke up the +herd, who stood bawling at the carriage door in the belief that I had +committed suicide. I crawled through the thicket, reached the edge of +the stream, and in cover of the bushes put a hundred yards or so behind +me. Then from my shelter I peered back, and saw the guard and several +passengers gathered round the open carriage door and staring in my +direction. I could not have made a more public departure if I had left +with a bugler and a brass band. + +Happily the drunken herd provided a diversion. He and his dog, which +was attached by a rope to his waist, suddenly cascaded out of the +carriage, landed on their heads on the track, and rolled some way down +the bank towards the water. In the rescue which followed the dog bit +somebody, for I could hear the sound of hard swearing. Presently they +had forgotten me, and when after a quarter of a mile’s crawl I ventured +to look back, the train had started again and was vanishing in the +cutting. + +I was in a wide semicircle of moorland, with the brown river as radius, +and the high hills forming the northern circumference. There was not a +sign or sound of a human being, only the plashing water and the +interminable crying of curlews. Yet, oddly enough, for the first time I +felt the terror of the hunted on me. It was not the police that I +thought of, but the other folk, who knew that I knew Scudder’s secret +and dared not let me live. I was certain that they would pursue me with +a keenness and vigilance unknown to the British law, and that once +their grip closed on me I should find no mercy. + +I looked back, but there was nothing in the landscape. The sun glinted +on the metals of the line and the wet stones in the stream, and you +could not have found a more peaceful sight in the world. Nevertheless I +started to run. Crouching low in the runnels of the bog, I ran till the +sweat blinded my eyes. The mood did not leave me till I had reached the +rim of mountain and flung myself panting on a ridge high above the +young waters of the brown river. + +From my vantage-ground I could scan the whole moor right away to the +railway line and to the south of it where green fields took the place +of heather. I have eyes like a hawk, but I could see nothing moving in +the whole countryside. Then I looked east beyond the ridge and saw a +new kind of landscape—shallow green valleys with plentiful fir +plantations and the faint lines of dust which spoke of highroads. Last +of all I looked into the blue May sky, and there I saw that which set +my pulses racing.... + +Low down in the south a monoplane was climbing into the heavens. I was +as certain as if I had been told that that aeroplane was looking for +me, and that it did not belong to the police. For an hour or two I +watched it from a pit of heather. It flew low along the hill-tops, and +then in narrow circles over the valley up which I had come. Then it +seemed to change its mind, rose to a great height, and flew away back +to the south. + +I did not like this espionage from the air, and I began to think less +well of the countryside I had chosen for a refuge. These heather hills +were no sort of cover if my enemies were in the sky, and I must find a +different kind of sanctuary. I looked with more satisfaction to the +green country beyond the ridge, for there I should find woods and stone +houses. + +About six in the evening I came out of the moorland to a white ribbon +of road which wound up the narrow vale of a lowland stream. As I +followed it, fields gave place to bent, the glen became a plateau, and +presently I had reached a kind of pass where a solitary house smoked in +the twilight. The road swung over a bridge, and leaning on the parapet +was a young man. + +He was smoking a long clay pipe and studying the water with spectacled +eyes. In his left hand was a small book with a finger marking the +place. Slowly he repeated— + + As when a Gryphon through the wilderness + With wingèd step, o’er hill and moory dale + Pursues the Arimaspian. + +He jumped round as my step rung on the keystone, and I saw a pleasant +sunburnt boyish face. + +“Good evening to you,” he said gravely. “It’s a fine night for the +road.” + +The smell of peat smoke and of some savoury roast floated to me from +the house. + +“Is that place an inn?” I asked. + +“At your service,” he said politely. “I am the landlord, sir, and I +hope you will stay the night, for to tell you the truth I have had no +company for a week.” + +I pulled myself up on the parapet of the bridge and filled my pipe. I +began to detect an ally. + +“You’re young to be an innkeeper,” I said. + +“My father died a year ago and left me the business. I live there with +my grandmother. It’s a slow job for a young man, and it wasn’t my +choice of profession.” + +“Which was?” + +He actually blushed. “I want to write books,” he said. + +“And what better chance could you ask?” I cried. “Man, I’ve often +thought that an innkeeper would make the best story-teller in the +world.” + +“Not now,” he said eagerly. “Maybe in the old days when you had +pilgrims and ballad-makers and highwaymen and mail-coaches on the road. +But not now. Nothing comes here but motor-cars full of fat women, who +stop for lunch, and a fisherman or two in the spring, and the shooting +tenants in August. There is not much material to be got out of that. I +want to see life, to travel the world, and write things like Kipling +and Conrad. But the most I’ve done yet is to get some verses printed in +_Chambers’s Journal_.” + +I looked at the inn standing golden in the sunset against the brown +hills. + +“I’ve knocked a bit about the world, and I wouldn’t despise such a +hermitage. D’you think that adventure is found only in the tropics or +among gentry in red shirts? Maybe you’re rubbing shoulders with it at +this moment.” + +“That’s what Kipling says,” he said, his eyes brightening, and he +quoted some verse about “Romance brings up the 9.15.” + +“Here’s a true tale for you then,” I cried, “and a month from now you +can make a novel out of it.” + +Sitting on the bridge in the soft May gloaming I pitched him a lovely +yarn. It was true in essentials, too, though I altered the minor +details. I made out that I was a mining magnate from Kimberley, who had +had a lot of trouble with I.D.B. and had shown up a gang. They had +pursued me across the ocean, and had killed my best friend, and were +now on my tracks. + +I told the story well, though I say it who shouldn’t. I pictured a +flight across the Kalahari to German Africa, the crackling, parching +days, the wonderful blue-velvet nights. I described an attack on my +life on the voyage home, and I made a really horrid affair of the +Portland Place murder. “You’re looking for adventure,” I cried; “well, +you’ve found it here. The devils are after me, and the police are after +them. It’s a race that I mean to win.” + +“By God!” he whispered, drawing his breath in sharply, “it is all pure +Rider Haggard and Conan Doyle.” + +“You believe me,” I said gratefully. + +“Of course I do,” and he held out his hand. “I believe everything out +of the common. The only thing to distrust is the normal.” + +He was very young, but he was the man for my money. + +“I think they’re off my track for the moment, but I must lie close for +a couple of days. Can you take me in?” + +He caught my elbow in his eagerness and drew me towards the house. “You +can lie as snug here as if you were in a moss-hole. I’ll see that +nobody blabs, either. And you’ll give me some more material about your +adventures?” + +As I entered the inn porch I heard from far off the beat of an engine. +There silhouetted against the dusky West was my friend, the monoplane. + + + +He gave me a room at the back of the house, with a fine outlook over +the plateau, and he made me free of his own study, which was stacked +with cheap editions of his favourite authors. I never saw the +grandmother, so I guessed she was bedridden. An old woman called Margit +brought me my meals, and the innkeeper was around me at all hours. I +wanted some time to myself, so I invented a job for him. He had a motor +bicycle, and I sent him off next morning for the daily paper, which +usually arrived with the post in the late afternoon. I told him to keep +his eyes skinned, and make note of any strange figures he saw, keeping +a special sharp look-out for motors and aeroplanes. Then I sat down in +real earnest to Scudder’s note-book. + +He came back at midday with the _Scotsman_. There was nothing in it, +except some further evidence of Paddock and the milkman, and a +repetition of yesterday’s statement that the murderer had gone North. +But there was a long article, reprinted from the _Times_, about +Karolides and the state of affairs in the Balkans, though there was no +mention of any visit to England. I got rid of the innkeeper for the +afternoon, for I was getting very warm in my search for the cypher. + +As I told you, it was a numerical cypher, and by an elaborate system of +experiments I had pretty well discovered what were the nulls and stops. +The trouble was the key word, and when I thought of the odd million +words he might have used I felt pretty hopeless. But about three +o’clock I had a sudden inspiration. + +The name Julia Czechenyi flashed across my memory. Scudder had said it +was the key to the Karolides business, and it occurred to me to try it +on his cypher. + +It worked. The five letters of “Julia” gave me the position of the +vowels. A was J, the tenth letter of the alphabet, and so represented +by X in the cypher. E was U=XXI, and so on. “Czechenyi’ gave me the +numerals for the principal consonants. I scribbled that scheme on a bit +of paper and sat down to read Scudder’s pages. + +In half an hour I was reading with a whitish face and fingers that +drummed on the table. + +I glanced out of the window and saw a big touring-car coming up the +glen towards the inn. It drew up at the door, and there was the sound +of people alighting. There seemed to be two of them, men in aquascutums +and tweed caps. + +Ten minutes later the innkeeper slipped into the room, his eyes bright +with excitement. + +“There’s two chaps below looking for you,” he whispered. “They’re in +the dining-room having whiskies-and-sodas. They asked about you and +said they had hoped to meet you here. Oh! and they described you jolly +well, down to your boots and shirt. I told them you had been here last +night and had gone off on a motor bicycle this morning, and one of the +chaps swore like a navvy.” + +I made him tell me what they looked like. One was a dark-eyed thin +fellow with bushy eyebrows, the other was always smiling and lisped in +his talk. Neither was any kind of foreigner; on this my young friend +was positive. + +I took a bit of paper and wrote these words in German as if they were +part of a letter— + + + ... “Black Stone. Scudder had got on to this, but he could not + act for a fortnight. I doubt if I can do any good now, especially + as Karolides is uncertain about his plans. But if Mr T. advises I + will do the best I....” + + +I manufactured it rather neatly, so that it looked like a loose page of +a private letter. + +“Take this down and say it was found in my bedroom, and ask them to +return it to me if they overtake me.” + +Three minutes later I heard the car begin to move, and peeping from +behind the curtain caught sight of the two figures. One was slim, the +other was sleek; that was the most I could make of my reconnaissance. + +The innkeeper appeared in great excitement. “Your paper woke them up,” +he said gleefully. “The dark fellow went as white as death and cursed +like blazes, and the fat one whistled and looked ugly. They paid for +their drinks with half-a-sovereign and wouldn’t wait for change.” + +“Now I’ll tell you what I want you to do,” I said. “Get on your bicycle +and go off to Newton-Stewart to the Chief Constable. Describe the two +men, and say you suspect them of having had something to do with the +London murder. You can invent reasons. The two will come back, never +fear. Not tonight, for they’ll follow me forty miles along the road, +but first thing tomorrow morning. Tell the police to be here bright and +early.” + +He set off like a docile child, while I worked at Scudder’s notes. When +he came back we dined together, and in common decency I had to let him +pump me. I gave him a lot of stuff about lion hunts and the Matabele +War, thinking all the while what tame businesses these were compared to +this I was now engaged in! When he went to bed I sat up and finished +Scudder. I smoked in a chair till daylight, for I could not sleep. + +About eight next morning I witnessed the arrival of two constables and +a sergeant. They put their car in a coach-house under the innkeeper’s +instructions, and entered the house. Twenty minutes later I saw from my +window a second car come across the plateau from the opposite +direction. It did not come up to the inn, but stopped two hundred yards +off in the shelter of a patch of wood. I noticed that its occupants +carefully reversed it before leaving it. A minute or two later I heard +their steps on the gravel outside the window. + +My plan had been to lie hid in my bedroom, and see what happened. I had +a notion that, if I could bring the police and my other more dangerous +pursuers together, something might work out of it to my advantage. But +now I had a better idea. I scribbled a line of thanks to my host, +opened the window, and dropped quietly into a gooseberry bush. +Unobserved I crossed the dyke, crawled down the side of a tributary +burn, and won the highroad on the far side of the patch of trees. There +stood the car, very spick and span in the morning sunlight, but with +the dust on her which told of a long journey. I started her, jumped +into the chauffeur’s seat, and stole gently out on to the plateau. + +Almost at once the road dipped so that I lost sight of the inn, but the +wind seemed to bring me the sound of angry voices. + + + +Chapter IV + + + The Adventure of the Radical Candidate + +You may picture me driving that 40 h.p. car for all she was worth over +the crisp moor roads on that shining May morning; glancing back at +first over my shoulder, and looking anxiously to the next turning; then +driving with a vague eye, just wide enough awake to keep on the +highway. For I was thinking desperately of what I had found in +Scudder’s pocket-book. + +The little man had told me a pack of lies. All his yarns about the +Balkans and the Jew-Anarchists and the Foreign Office Conference were +eyewash, and so was Karolides. And yet not quite, as you shall hear. I +had staked everything on my belief in his story, and had been let down; +here was his book telling me a different tale, and instead of being +once-bitten-twice-shy, I believed it absolutely. + +Why, I don’t know. It rang desperately true, and the first yarn, if you +understand me, had been in a queer way true also in spirit. The +fifteenth day of June was going to be a day of destiny, a bigger +destiny than the killing of a Dago. It was so big that I didn’t blame +Scudder for keeping me out of the game and wanting to play a lone hand. +That, I was pretty clear, was his intention. He had told me something +which sounded big enough, but the real thing was so immortally big that +he, the man who had found it out, wanted it all for himself. I didn’t +blame him. It was risks after all that he was chiefly greedy about. + +The whole story was in the notes—with gaps, you understand, which he +would have filled up from his memory. He stuck down his authorities, +too, and had an odd trick of giving them all a numerical value and then +striking a balance, which stood for the reliability of each stage in +the yarn. The four names he had printed were authorities, and there was +a man, Ducrosne, who got five out of a possible five; and another +fellow, Ammersfoort, who got three. The bare bones of the tale were all +that was in the book—these, and one queer phrase which occurred half a +dozen times inside brackets. (“Thirty-nine steps”) was the phrase; and +at its last time of use it ran—(“Thirty-nine steps, I counted them—high +tide 10.17 p.m.”). I could make nothing of that. + +The first thing I learned was that it was no question of preventing a +war. That was coming, as sure as Christmas: had been arranged, said +Scudder, ever since February 1912. Karolides was going to be the +occasion. He was booked all right, and was to hand in his checks on +June 14th, two weeks and four days from that May morning. I gathered +from Scudder’s notes that nothing on earth could prevent that. His talk +of Epirote guards that would skin their own grandmothers was all +billy-o. + +The second thing was that this war was going to come as a mighty +surprise to Britain. Karolides’ death would set the Balkans by the +ears, and then Vienna would chip in with an ultimatum. Russia wouldn’t +like that, and there would be high words. But Berlin would play the +peacemaker, and pour oil on the waters, till suddenly she would find a +good cause for a quarrel, pick it up, and in five hours let fly at us. +That was the idea, and a pretty good one too. Honey and fair speeches, +and then a stroke in the dark. While we were talking about the goodwill +and good intentions of Germany our coast would be silently ringed with +mines, and submarines would be waiting for every battleship. + +But all this depended upon the third thing, which was due to happen on +June 15th. I would never have grasped this if I hadn’t once happened to +meet a French staff officer, coming back from West Africa, who had told +me a lot of things. One was that, in spite of all the nonsense talked +in Parliament, there was a real working alliance between France and +Britain, and that the two General Staffs met every now and then, and +made plans for joint action in case of war. Well, in June a very great +swell was coming over from Paris, and he was going to get nothing less +than a statement of the disposition of the British Home Fleet on +mobilization. At least I gathered it was something like that; anyhow, +it was something uncommonly important. + +But on the 15th day of June there were to be others in London—others, +at whom I could only guess. Scudder was content to call them +collectively the “Black Stone”. They represented not our Allies, but +our deadly foes; and the information, destined for France, was to be +diverted to their pockets. And it was to be used, remember—used a week +or two later, with great guns and swift torpedoes, suddenly in the +darkness of a summer night. + +This was the story I had been deciphering in a back room of a country +inn, overlooking a cabbage garden. This was the story that hummed in my +brain as I swung in the big touring-car from glen to glen. + +My first impulse had been to write a letter to the Prime Minister, but +a little reflection convinced me that that would be useless. Who would +believe my tale? I must show a sign, some token in proof, and Heaven +knew what that could be. Above all, I must keep going myself, ready to +act when things got riper, and that was going to be no light job with +the police of the British Isles in full cry after me and the watchers +of the Black Stone running silently and swiftly on my trail. + +I had no very clear purpose in my journey, but I steered east by the +sun, for I remembered from the map that if I went north I would come +into a region of coalpits and industrial towns. Presently I was down +from the moorlands and traversing the broad haugh of a river. For miles +I ran alongside a park wall, and in a break of the trees I saw a great +castle. I swung through little old thatched villages, and over peaceful +lowland streams, and past gardens blazing with hawthorn and yellow +laburnum. The land was so deep in peace that I could scarcely believe +that somewhere behind me were those who sought my life; ay, and that in +a month’s time, unless I had the almightiest of luck, these round +country faces would be pinched and staring, and men would be lying dead +in English fields. + +About midday I entered a long straggling village, and had a mind to +stop and eat. Half-way down was the Post Office, and on the steps of it +stood the postmistress and a policeman hard at work conning a telegram. +When they saw me they wakened up, and the policeman advanced with +raised hand, and cried on me to stop. + +I nearly was fool enough to obey. Then it flashed upon me that the wire +had to do with me; that my friends at the inn had come to an +understanding, and were united in desiring to see more of me, and that +it had been easy enough for them to wire the description of me and the +car to thirty villages through which I might pass. I released the +brakes just in time. As it was, the policeman made a claw at the hood, +and only dropped off when he got my left in his eye. + +I saw that main roads were no place for me, and turned into the byways. +It wasn’t an easy job without a map, for there was the risk of getting +on to a farm road and ending in a duck-pond or a stable-yard, and I +couldn’t afford that kind of delay. I began to see what an ass I had +been to steal the car. The big green brute would be the safest kind of +clue to me over the breadth of Scotland. If I left it and took to my +feet, it would be discovered in an hour or two and I would get no start +in the race. + +The immediate thing to do was to get to the loneliest roads. These I +soon found when I struck up a tributary of the big river, and got into +a glen with steep hills all about me, and a corkscrew road at the end +which climbed over a pass. Here I met nobody, but it was taking me too +far north, so I slewed east along a bad track and finally struck a big +double-line railway. Away below me I saw another broadish valley, and +it occurred to me that if I crossed it I might find some remote inn to +pass the night. The evening was now drawing in, and I was furiously +hungry, for I had eaten nothing since breakfast except a couple of buns +I had bought from a baker’s cart. + +Just then I heard a noise in the sky, and lo and behold there was that +infernal aeroplane, flying low, about a dozen miles to the south and +rapidly coming towards me. + +I had the sense to remember that on a bare moor I was at the +aeroplane’s mercy, and that my only chance was to get to the leafy +cover of the valley. Down the hill I went like blue lightning, screwing +my head round, whenever I dared, to watch that damned flying machine. +Soon I was on a road between hedges, and dipping to the deep-cut glen +of a stream. Then came a bit of thick wood where I slackened speed. + +Suddenly on my left I heard the hoot of another car, and realized to my +horror that I was almost up on a couple of gate-posts through which a +private road debouched on the highway. My horn gave an agonized roar, +but it was too late. I clapped on my brakes, but my impetus was too +great, and there before me a car was sliding athwart my course. In a +second there would have been the deuce of a wreck. I did the only thing +possible, and ran slap into the hedge on the right, trusting to find +something soft beyond. + +But there I was mistaken. My car slithered through the hedge like +butter, and then gave a sickening plunge forward. I saw what was +coming, leapt on the seat and would have jumped out. But a branch of +hawthorn got me in the chest, lifted me up and held me, while a ton or +two of expensive metal slipped below me, bucked and pitched, and then +dropped with an almighty smash fifty feet to the bed of the stream. + + + +Slowly that thorn let me go. I subsided first on the hedge, and then +very gently on a bower of nettles. As I scrambled to my feet a hand +took me by the arm, and a sympathetic and badly scared voice asked me +if I were hurt. + +I found myself looking at a tall young man in goggles and a leather +ulster, who kept on blessing his soul and whinnying apologies. For +myself, once I got my wind back, I was rather glad than otherwise. This +was one way of getting rid of the car. + +“My blame, sir,” I answered him. “It’s lucky that I did not add +homicide to my follies. That’s the end of my Scotch motor tour, but it +might have been the end of my life.” + +He plucked out a watch and studied it. “You’re the right sort of +fellow,” he said. “I can spare a quarter of an hour, and my house is +two minutes off. I’ll see you clothed and fed and snug in bed. Where’s +your kit, by the way? Is it in the burn along with the car?” + +“It’s in my pocket,” I said, brandishing a toothbrush. “I’m a colonial +and travel light.” + +“A colonial,” he cried. “By Gad, you’re the very man I’ve been praying +for. Are you by any blessed chance a Free Trader?” + +“I am,” said I, without the foggiest notion of what he meant. + +He patted my shoulder and hurried me into his car. Three minutes later +we drew up before a comfortable-looking shooting-box set among pine +trees, and he ushered me indoors. He took me first to a bedroom and +flung half a dozen of his suits before me, for my own had been pretty +well reduced to rags. I selected a loose blue serge, which differed +most conspicuously from my former garments, and borrowed a linen +collar. Then he haled me to the dining-room, where the remnants of a +meal stood on the table, and announced that I had just five minutes to +feed. “You can take a snack in your pocket, and we’ll have supper when +we get back. I’ve got to be at the Masonic Hall at eight o’clock, or my +agent will comb my hair.” + +I had a cup of coffee and some cold ham, while he yarned away on the +hearthrug. + +“You find me in the deuce of a mess, Mr ——; by-the-by, you haven’t told +me your name. Twisdon? Any relation of old Tommy Twisdon of the +Sixtieth? No? Well, you see I’m Liberal Candidate for this part of the +world, and I had a meeting on tonight at Brattleburn—that’s my chief +town, and an infernal Tory stronghold. I had got the Colonial +ex-Premier fellow, Crumpleton, coming to speak for me tonight, and had +the thing tremendously billed and the whole place ground-baited. This +afternoon I had a wire from the ruffian saying he had got influenza at +Blackpool, and here am I left to do the whole thing myself. I had meant +to speak for ten minutes and must now go on for forty, and, though I’ve +been racking my brains for three hours to think of something, I simply +cannot last the course. Now you’ve got to be a good chap and help me. +You’re a Free Trader and can tell our people what a wash-out Protection +is in the Colonies. All you fellows have the gift of the gab—I wish to +Heaven I had it. I’ll be for evermore in your debt.” + +I had very few notions about Free Trade one way or the other, but I saw +no other chance to get what I wanted. My young gentleman was far too +absorbed in his own difficulties to think how odd it was to ask a +stranger who had just missed death by an ace and had lost a +1,000-guinea car to address a meeting for him on the spur of the +moment. But my necessities did not allow me to contemplate oddnesses or +to pick and choose my supports. + +“All right,” I said. “I’m not much good as a speaker, but I’ll tell +them a bit about Australia.” + +At my words the cares of the ages slipped from his shoulders, and he +was rapturous in his thanks. He lent me a big driving coat—and never +troubled to ask why I had started on a motor tour without possessing an +ulster—and, as we slipped down the dusty roads, poured into my ears the +simple facts of his history. He was an orphan, and his uncle had +brought him up—I’ve forgotten the uncle’s name, but he was in the +Cabinet, and you can read his speeches in the papers. He had gone round +the world after leaving Cambridge, and then, being short of a job, his +uncle had advised politics. I gathered that he had no preference in +parties. “Good chaps in both,” he said cheerfully, “and plenty of +blighters, too. I’m Liberal, because my family have always been Whigs.” +But if he was lukewarm politically he had strong views on other things. +He found out I knew a bit about horses, and jawed away about the Derby +entries; and he was full of plans for improving his shooting. +Altogether, a very clean, decent, callow young man. + +As we passed through a little town two policemen signalled us to stop, +and flashed their lanterns on us. + +“Beg pardon, Sir Harry,” said one. “We’ve got instructions to look out +for a car, and the description’s no unlike yours.” + +“Right-o,” said my host, while I thanked Providence for the devious +ways I had been brought to safety. After that he spoke no more, for his +mind began to labour heavily with his coming speech. His lips kept +muttering, his eye wandered, and I began to prepare myself for a second +catastrophe. I tried to think of something to say myself, but my mind +was dry as a stone. The next thing I knew we had drawn up outside a +door in a street, and were being welcomed by some noisy gentlemen with +rosettes. + +The hall had about five hundred in it, women mostly, a lot of bald +heads, and a dozen or two young men. The chairman, a weaselly minister +with a reddish nose, lamented Crumpleton’s absence, soliloquized on his +influenza, and gave me a certificate as a “trusted leader of Australian +thought”. There were two policemen at the door, and I hoped they took +note of that testimonial. Then Sir Harry started. + +I never heard anything like it. He didn’t begin to know how to talk. He +had about a bushel of notes from which he read, and when he let go of +them he fell into one prolonged stutter. Every now and then he +remembered a phrase he had learned by heart, straightened his back, and +gave it off like Henry Irving, and the next moment he was bent double +and crooning over his papers. It was the most appalling rot, too. He +talked about the “German menace”, and said it was all a Tory invention +to cheat the poor of their rights and keep back the great flood of +social reform, but that “organized labour” realized this and laughed +the Tories to scorn. He was all for reducing our Navy as a proof of our +good faith, and then sending Germany an ultimatum telling her to do the +same or we would knock her into a cocked hat. He said that, but for the +Tories, Germany and Britain would be fellow-workers in peace and +reform. I thought of the little black book in my pocket! A giddy lot +Scudder’s friends cared for peace and reform. + +Yet in a queer way I liked the speech. You could see the niceness of +the chap shining out behind the muck with which he had been spoon-fed. +Also it took a load off my mind. I mightn’t be much of an orator, but I +was a thousand per cent better than Sir Harry. + +I didn’t get on so badly when it came to my turn. I simply told them +all I could remember about Australia, praying there should be no +Australian there—all about its labour party and emigration and +universal service. I doubt if I remembered to mention Free Trade, but I +said there were no Tories in Australia, only Labour and Liberals. That +fetched a cheer, and I woke them up a bit when I started in to tell +them the kind of glorious business I thought could be made out of the +Empire if we really put our backs into it. + +Altogether I fancy I was rather a success. The minister didn’t like me, +though, and when he proposed a vote of thanks, spoke of Sir Harry’s +speech as “statesmanlike” and mine as having “the eloquence of an +emigration agent.” + +When we were in the car again my host was in wild spirits at having got +his job over. “A ripping speech, Twisdon,” he said. “Now, you’re coming +home with me. I’m all alone, and if you’ll stop a day or two I’ll show +you some very decent fishing.” + +We had a hot supper—and I wanted it pretty badly—and then drank grog in +a big cheery smoking-room with a crackling wood fire. I thought the +time had come for me to put my cards on the table. I saw by this man’s +eye that he was the kind you can trust. + +“Listen, Sir Harry,” I said. “I’ve something pretty important to say to +you. You’re a good fellow, and I’m going to be frank. Where on earth +did you get that poisonous rubbish you talked tonight?” + +His face fell. “Was it as bad as that?” he asked ruefully. “It did +sound rather thin. I got most of it out of the _Progressive Magazine_ +and pamphlets that agent chap of mine keeps sending me. But you surely +don’t think Germany would ever go to war with us?” + +“Ask that question in six weeks and it won’t need an answer,” I said. +“If you’ll give me your attention for half an hour I am going to tell +you a story.” + +I can see yet that bright room with the deers’ heads and the old prints +on the walls, Sir Harry standing restlessly on the stone curb of the +hearth, and myself lying back in an armchair, speaking. I seemed to be +another person, standing aside and listening to my own voice, and +judging carefully the reliability of my tale. It was the first time I +had ever told anyone the exact truth, so far as I understood it, and it +did me no end of good, for it straightened out the thing in my own +mind. I blinked no detail. He heard all about Scudder, and the milkman, +and the note-book, and my doings in Galloway. Presently he got very +excited and walked up and down the hearthrug. + +“So you see,” I concluded, “you have got here in your house the man +that is wanted for the Portland Place murder. Your duty is to send your +car for the police and give me up. I don’t think I’ll get very far. +There’ll be an accident, and I’ll have a knife in my ribs an hour or so +after arrest. Nevertheless, it’s your duty, as a law-abiding citizen. +Perhaps in a month’s time you’ll be sorry, but you have no cause to +think of that.” + +He was looking at me with bright steady eyes. “What was your job in +Rhodesia, Mr Hannay?” he asked. + +“Mining engineer,” I said. “I’ve made my pile cleanly and I’ve had a +good time in the making of it.” + +“Not a profession that weakens the nerves, is it?” + +I laughed. “Oh, as to that, my nerves are good enough.” I took down a +hunting-knife from a stand on the wall, and did the old Mashona trick +of tossing it and catching it in my lips. That wants a pretty steady +heart. + +He watched me with a smile. “I don’t want proofs. I may be an ass on +the platform, but I can size up a man. You’re no murderer and you’re no +fool, and I believe you are speaking the truth. I’m going to back you +up. Now, what can I do?” + +“First, I want you to write a letter to your uncle. I’ve got to get in +touch with the Government people sometime before the 15th of June.” + +He pulled his moustache. “That won’t help you. This is Foreign Office +business, and my uncle would have nothing to do with it. Besides, you’d +never convince him. No, I’ll go one better. I’ll write to the Permanent +Secretary at the Foreign Office. He’s my godfather, and one of the best +going. What do you want?” + +He sat down at a table and wrote to my dictation. The gist of it was +that if a man called Twisdon (I thought I had better stick to that +name) turned up before June 15th he was to entreat him kindly. He said +Twisdon would prove his _bona fides_ by passing the word “Black Stone” +and whistling “Annie Laurie”. + +“Good,” said Sir Harry. “That’s the proper style. By the way, you’ll +find my godfather—his name’s Sir Walter Bullivant—down at his country +cottage for Whitsuntide. It’s close to Artinswell on the Kennet. That’s +done. Now, what’s the next thing?” + +“You’re about my height. Lend me the oldest tweed suit you’ve got. +Anything will do, so long as the colour is the opposite of the clothes +I destroyed this afternoon. Then show me a map of the neighbourhood and +explain to me the lie of the land. Lastly, if the police come seeking +me, just show them the car in the glen. If the other lot turn up, tell +them I caught the south express after your meeting.” + +He did, or promised to do, all these things. I shaved off the remnants +of my moustache, and got inside an ancient suit of what I believe is +called heather mixture. The map gave me some notion of my whereabouts, +and told me the two things I wanted to know—where the main railway to +the south could be joined, and what were the wildest districts near at +hand. + +At two o’clock he wakened me from my slumbers in the smoking-room +armchair, and led me blinking into the dark starry night. An old +bicycle was found in a tool-shed and handed over to me. + +“First turn to the right up by the long fir-wood,” he enjoined. “By +daybreak you’ll be well into the hills. Then I should pitch the machine +into a bog and take to the moors on foot. You can put in a week among +the shepherds, and be as safe as if you were in New Guinea.” + +I pedalled diligently up steep roads of hill gravel till the skies grew +pale with morning. As the mists cleared before the sun, I found myself +in a wide green world with glens falling on every side and a far-away +blue horizon. Here, at any rate, I could get early news of my enemies. + + + +Chapter V + + + The Adventure of the Spectacled Roadman + +I sat down on the very crest of the pass and took stock of my position. + +Behind me was the road climbing through a long cleft in the hills, +which was the upper glen of some notable river. In front was a flat +space of maybe a mile, all pitted with bog-holes and rough with +tussocks, and then beyond it the road fell steeply down another glen to +a plain whose blue dimness melted into the distance. To left and right +were round-shouldered green hills as smooth as pancakes, but to the +south—that is, the left hand—there was a glimpse of high heathery +mountains, which I remembered from the map as the big knot of hill +which I had chosen for my sanctuary. I was on the central boss of a +huge upland country, and could see everything moving for miles. In the +meadows below the road half a mile back a cottage smoked, but it was +the only sign of human life. Otherwise there was only the calling of +plovers and the tinkling of little streams. + +It was now about seven o’clock, and as I waited I heard once again that +ominous beat in the air. Then I realized that my vantage-ground might +be in reality a trap. There was no cover for a tomtit in those bald +green places. + +I sat quite still and hopeless while the beat grew louder. Then I saw +an aeroplane coming up from the east. It was flying high, but as I +looked it dropped several hundred feet and began to circle round the +knot of hill in narrowing circles, just as a hawk wheels before it +pounces. Now it was flying very low, and now the observer on board +caught sight of me. I could see one of the two occupants examining me +through glasses. + +Suddenly it began to rise in swift whorls, and the next I knew it was +speeding eastward again till it became a speck in the blue morning. + +That made me do some savage thinking. My enemies had located me, and +the next thing would be a cordon round me. I didn’t know what force +they could command, but I was certain it would be sufficient. The +aeroplane had seen my bicycle, and would conclude that I would try to +escape by the road. In that case there might be a chance on the moors +to the right or left. I wheeled the machine a hundred yards from the +highway, and plunged it into a moss-hole, where it sank among pond-weed +and water-buttercups. Then I climbed to a knoll which gave me a view of +the two valleys. Nothing was stirring on the long white ribbon that +threaded them. + +I have said there was not cover in the whole place to hide a rat. As +the day advanced it was flooded with soft fresh light till it had the +fragrant sunniness of the South African veld. At other times I would +have liked the place, but now it seemed to suffocate me. The free +moorlands were prison walls, and the keen hill air was the breath of a +dungeon. + +I tossed a coin—heads right, tails left—and it fell heads, so I turned +to the north. In a little I came to the brow of the ridge which was the +containing wall of the pass. I saw the highroad for maybe ten miles, +and far down it something that was moving, and that I took to be a +motor-car. Beyond the ridge I looked on a rolling green moor, which +fell away into wooded glens. + +Now my life on the veld has given me the eyes of a kite, and I can see +things for which most men need a telescope.... Away down the slope, a +couple of miles away, several men were advancing, like a row of beaters +at a shoot. + +I dropped out of sight behind the sky-line. That way was shut to me, +and I must try the bigger hills to the south beyond the highway. The +car I had noticed was getting nearer, but it was still a long way off +with some very steep gradients before it. I ran hard, crouching low +except in the hollows, and as I ran I kept scanning the brow of the +hill before me. Was it imagination, or did I see figures—one, two, +perhaps more—moving in a glen beyond the stream? + +If you are hemmed in on all sides in a patch of land there is only one +chance of escape. You must stay in the patch, and let your enemies +search it and not find you. That was good sense, but how on earth was I +to escape notice in that table-cloth of a place? I would have buried +myself to the neck in mud or lain below water or climbed the tallest +tree. But there was not a stick of wood, the bog-holes were little +puddles, the stream was a slender trickle. There was nothing but short +heather, and bare hill bent, and the white highway. + + + + +Then in a tiny bight of road, beside a heap of stones, I found the +roadman. + +He had just arrived, and was wearily flinging down his hammer. He +looked at me with a fishy eye and yawned. + +“Confoond the day I ever left the herdin’!” he said, as if to the world +at large. “There I was my ain maister. Now I’m a slave to the +Goavernment, tethered to the roadside, wi’ sair een, and a back like a +suckle.” + +He took up the hammer, struck a stone, dropped the implement with an +oath, and put both hands to his ears. “Mercy on me! My heid’s +burstin’!” he cried. + +He was a wild figure, about my own size but much bent, with a week’s +beard on his chin, and a pair of big horn spectacles. + +“I canna dae’t,” he cried again. “The Surveyor maun just report me. I’m +for my bed.” + +I asked him what was the trouble, though indeed that was clear enough. + +“The trouble is that I’m no sober. Last nicht my dochter Merran was +waddit, and they danced till fower in the byre. Me and some ither +chiels sat down to the drinkin’, and here I am. Peety that I ever +lookit on the wine when it was red!” + +I agreed with him about bed. + +“It’s easy speakin’,” he moaned. “But I got a postcard yestreen sayin’ +that the new Road Surveyor would be round the day. He’ll come and he’ll +no find me, or else he’ll find me fou, and either way I’m a done man. +I’ll awa’ back to my bed and say I’m no weel, but I doot that’ll no +help me, for they ken my kind o’ no-weel-ness.” + +Then I had an inspiration. “Does the new Surveyor know you?” I asked. + +“No him. He’s just been a week at the job. He rins about in a wee +motor-cawr, and wad speir the inside oot o’ a whelk.” + +“Where’s your house?” I asked, and was directed by a wavering finger to +the cottage by the stream. + +“Well, back to your bed,” I said, “and sleep in peace. I’ll take on +your job for a bit and see the Surveyor.” + +He stared at me blankly; then, as the notion dawned on his fuddled +brain, his face broke into the vacant drunkard’s smile. + +“You’re the billy,” he cried. “It’ll be easy eneuch managed. I’ve +finished that bing o’ stanes, so you needna chap ony mair this +forenoon. Just take the barry, and wheel eneuch metal frae yon quarry +doon the road to mak anither bing the morn. My name’s Alexander +Trummle, and I’ve been seeven year at the trade, and twenty afore that +herdin’ on Leithen Water. My freens ca’ me Ecky, and whiles Specky, for +I wear glesses, being waik i’ the sicht. Just you speak the Surveyor +fair, and ca’ him Sir, and he’ll be fell pleased. I’ll be back or +midday.” + +I borrowed his spectacles and filthy old hat; stripped off coat, +waistcoat, and collar, and gave him them to carry home; borrowed, too, +the foul stump of a clay pipe as an extra property. He indicated my +simple tasks, and without more ado set off at an amble bedwards. Bed +may have been his chief object, but I think there was also something +left in the foot of a bottle. I prayed that he might be safe under +cover before my friends arrived on the scene. + +Then I set to work to dress for the part. I opened the collar of my +shirt—it was a vulgar blue-and-white check such as ploughmen wear—and +revealed a neck as brown as any tinker’s. I rolled up my sleeves, and +there was a forearm which might have been a blacksmith’s, sunburnt and +rough with old scars. I got my boots and trouser-legs all white from +the dust of the road, and hitched up my trousers, tying them with +string below the knee. Then I set to work on my face. With a handful of +dust I made a water-mark round my neck, the place where Mr Turnbull’s +Sunday ablutions might be expected to stop. I rubbed a good deal of +dirt also into the sunburn of my cheeks. A roadman’s eyes would no +doubt be a little inflamed, so I contrived to get some dust in both of +mine, and by dint of vigorous rubbing produced a bleary effect. + +The sandwiches Sir Harry had given me had gone off with my coat, but +the roadman’s lunch, tied up in a red handkerchief, was at my disposal. +I ate with great relish several of the thick slabs of scone and cheese +and drank a little of the cold tea. In the handkerchief was a local +paper tied with string and addressed to Mr Turnbull—obviously meant to +solace his midday leisure. I did up the bundle again, and put the paper +conspicuously beside it. + +My boots did not satisfy me, but by dint of kicking among the stones I +reduced them to the granite-like surface which marks a roadman’s +footgear. Then I bit and scraped my finger-nails till the edges were +all cracked and uneven. The men I was matched against would miss no +detail. I broke one of the bootlaces and retied it in a clumsy knot, +and loosed the other so that my thick grey socks bulged over the +uppers. Still no sign of anything on the road. The motor I had observed +half an hour ago must have gone home. + +My toilet complete, I took up the barrow and began my journeys to and +from the quarry a hundred yards off. + +I remember an old scout in Rhodesia, who had done many queer things in +his day, once telling me that the secret of playing a part was to think +yourself into it. You could never keep it up, he said, unless you could +manage to convince yourself that you were _it_. So I shut off all other +thoughts and switched them on to the road-mending. I thought of the +little white cottage as my home, I recalled the years I had spent +herding on Leithen Water, I made my mind dwell lovingly on sleep in a +box-bed and a bottle of cheap whisky. Still nothing appeared on that +long white road. + +Now and then a sheep wandered off the heather to stare at me. A heron +flopped down to a pool in the stream and started to fish, taking no +more notice of me than if I had been a milestone. On I went, trundling +my loads of stone, with the heavy step of the professional. Soon I grew +warm, and the dust on my face changed into solid and abiding grit. I +was already counting the hours till evening should put a limit to Mr +Turnbull’s monotonous toil. + +Suddenly a crisp voice spoke from the road, and looking up I saw a +little Ford two-seater, and a round-faced young man in a bowler hat. + +“Are you Alexander Turnbull?” he asked. “I am the new County Road +Surveyor. You live at Blackhopefoot, and have charge of the section +from Laidlawbyres to the Riggs? Good! A fair bit of road, Turnbull, and +not badly engineered. A little soft about a mile off, and the edges +want cleaning. See you look after that. Good morning. You’ll know me +the next time you see me.” + +Clearly my get-up was good enough for the dreaded Surveyor. I went on +with my work, and as the morning grew towards noon I was cheered by a +little traffic. A baker’s van breasted the hill, and sold me a bag of +ginger biscuits which I stowed in my trouser-pockets against +emergencies. Then a herd passed with sheep, and disturbed me somewhat +by asking loudly, “What had become o’ Specky?” + +“In bed wi’ the colic,” I replied, and the herd passed on.... + +Just about midday a big car stole down the hill, glided past and drew +up a hundred yards beyond. Its three occupants descended as if to +stretch their legs, and sauntered towards me. + +Two of the men I had seen before from the window of the Galloway +inn—one lean, sharp, and dark, the other comfortable and smiling. The +third had the look of a countryman—a vet, perhaps, or a small farmer. +He was dressed in ill-cut knickerbockers, and the eye in his head was +as bright and wary as a hen’s. + +“Morning,” said the last. “That’s a fine easy job o’ yours.” + +I had not looked up on their approach, and now, when accosted, I slowly +and painfully straightened my back, after the manner of roadmen; spat +vigorously, after the manner of the low Scot; and regarded them +steadily before replying. I confronted three pairs of eyes that missed +nothing. + +“There’s waur jobs and there’s better,” I said sententiously. “I wad +rather hae yours, sittin’ a’ day on your hinderlands on thae cushions. +It’s you and your muckle cawrs that wreck my roads! If we a’ had oor +richts, ye sud be made to mend what ye break.” + +The bright-eyed man was looking at the newspaper lying beside +Turnbull’s bundle. + +“I see you get your papers in good time,” he said. + +I glanced at it casually. “Aye, in gude time. Seein’ that that paper +cam’ out last Setterday I’m just sax days late.” + +He picked it up, glanced at the superscription, and laid it down again. +One of the others had been looking at my boots, and a word in German +called the speaker’s attention to them. + +“You’ve a fine taste in boots,” he said. “These were never made by a +country shoemaker.” + +“They were not,” I said readily. “They were made in London. I got them +frae the gentleman that was here last year for the shootin’. What was +his name now?” And I scratched a forgetful head. Again the sleek one +spoke in German. “Let us get on,” he said. “This fellow is all right.” + +They asked one last question. + +“Did you see anyone pass early this morning? He might be on a bicycle +or he might be on foot.” + +I very nearly fell into the trap and told a story of a bicyclist +hurrying past in the grey dawn. But I had the sense to see my danger. I +pretended to consider very deeply. + +“I wasna up very early,” I said. “Ye see, my dochter was merrit last +nicht, and we keepit it up late. I opened the house door about seeven +and there was naebody on the road then. Since I cam up here there has +just been the baker and the Ruchill herd, besides you gentlemen.” + +One of them gave me a cigar, which I smelt gingerly and stuck in +Turnbull’s bundle. They got into their car and were out of sight in +three minutes. + +My heart leaped with an enormous relief, but I went on wheeling my +stones. It was as well, for ten minutes later the car returned, one of +the occupants waving a hand to me. Those gentry left nothing to chance. + +I finished Turnbull’s bread and cheese, and pretty soon I had finished +the stones. The next step was what puzzled me. I could not keep up this +roadmaking business for long. A merciful Providence had kept Mr +Turnbull indoors, but if he appeared on the scene there would be +trouble. I had a notion that the cordon was still tight round the glen, +and that if I walked in any direction I should meet with questioners. +But get out I must. No man’s nerve could stand more than a day of being +spied on. + +I stayed at my post till five o’clock. By that time I had resolved to +go down to Turnbull’s cottage at nightfall and take my chance of +getting over the hills in the darkness. But suddenly a new car came up +the road, and slowed down a yard or two from me. A fresh wind had +risen, and the occupant wanted to light a cigarette. + +It was a touring car, with the tonneau full of an assortment of +baggage. One man sat in it, and by an amazing chance I knew him. His +name was Marmaduke Jopley, and he was an offence to creation. He was a +sort of blood stockbroker, who did his business by toadying eldest sons +and rich young peers and foolish old ladies. “Marmie’ was a familiar +figure, I understood, at balls and polo-weeks and country houses. He +was an adroit scandal-monger, and would crawl a mile on his belly to +anything that had a title or a million. I had a business introduction +to his firm when I came to London, and he was good enough to ask me to +dinner at his club. There he showed off at a great rate, and pattered +about his duchesses till the snobbery of the creature turned me sick. I +asked a man afterwards why nobody kicked him, and was told that +Englishmen reverenced the weaker sex. + +Anyhow there he was now, nattily dressed, in a fine new car, obviously +on his way to visit some of his smart friends. A sudden daftness took +me, and in a second I had jumped into the tonneau and had him by the +shoulder. + +“Hullo, Jopley,” I sang out. “Well met, my lad!” He got a horrid +fright. His chin dropped as he stared at me. “Who the devil are you?” +he gasped. + +“My name’s Hannay,” I said. “From Rhodesia, you remember.” + +“Good God, the murderer!” he choked. + +“Just so. And there’ll be a second murder, my dear, if you don’t do as +I tell you. Give me that coat of yours. That cap, too.” + +He did as he was bid, for he was blind with terror. Over my dirty +trousers and vulgar shirt I put on his smart driving-coat, which +buttoned high at the top and thereby hid the deficiencies of my collar. +I stuck the cap on my head, and added his gloves to my get-up. The +dusty roadman in a minute was transformed into one of the neatest +motorists in Scotland. On Mr Jopley’s head I clapped Turnbull’s +unspeakable hat, and told him to keep it there. + +Then with some difficulty I turned the car. My plan was to go back the +road he had come, for the watchers, having seen it before, would +probably let it pass unremarked, and Marmie’s figure was in no way like +mine. + +“Now, my child,” I said, “sit quite still and be a good boy. I mean you +no harm. I’m only borrowing your car for an hour or two. But if you +play me any tricks, and above all if you open your mouth, as sure as +there’s a God above me I’ll wring your neck. _Savez?_” + +I enjoyed that evening’s ride. We ran eight miles down the valley, +through a village or two, and I could not help noticing several +strange-looking folk lounging by the roadside. These were the watchers +who would have had much to say to me if I had come in other garb or +company. As it was, they looked incuriously on. One touched his cap in +salute, and I responded graciously. + +As the dark fell I turned up a side glen which, as I remember from the +map, led into an unfrequented corner of the hills. Soon the villages +were left behind, then the farms, and then even the wayside cottage. +Presently we came to a lonely moor where the night was blackening the +sunset gleam in the bog pools. Here we stopped, and I obligingly +reversed the car and restored to Mr Jopley his belongings. + +“A thousand thanks,” I said. “There’s more use in you than I thought. +Now be off and find the police.” + +As I sat on the hillside, watching the tail-light dwindle, I reflected +on the various kinds of crime I had now sampled. Contrary to general +belief, I was not a murderer, but I had become an unholy liar, a +shameless impostor, and a highwayman with a marked taste for expensive +motor-cars. + + + +Chapter VI + + + The Adventure of the Bald Archaeologist + +I spent the night on a shelf of the hillside, in the lee of a boulder +where the heather grew long and soft. It was a cold business, for I had +neither coat nor waistcoat. These were in Mr Turnbull’s keeping, as was +Scudder’s little book, my watch and—worst of all—my pipe and tobacco +pouch. Only my money accompanied me in my belt, and about half a pound +of ginger biscuits in my trousers pocket. + +I supped off half those biscuits, and by worming myself deep into the +heather got some kind of warmth. My spirits had risen, and I was +beginning to enjoy this crazy game of hide-and-seek. So far I had been +miraculously lucky. The milkman, the literary innkeeper, Sir Harry, the +roadman, and the idiotic Marmie, were all pieces of undeserved good +fortune. Somehow the first success gave me a feeling that I was going +to pull the thing through. + +My chief trouble was that I was desperately hungry. When a Jew shoots +himself in the City and there is an inquest, the newspapers usually +report that the deceased was “well-nourished”. I remember thinking that +they would not call me well-nourished if I broke my neck in a bog-hole. +I lay and tortured myself—for the ginger biscuits merely emphasized the +aching void—with the memory of all the good food I had thought so +little of in London. There were Paddock’s crisp sausages and fragrant +shavings of bacon, and shapely poached eggs—how often I had turned up +my nose at them! There were the cutlets they did at the club, and a +particular ham that stood on the cold table, for which my soul lusted. +My thoughts hovered over all varieties of mortal edible, and finally +settled on a porterhouse steak and a quart of bitter with a welsh +rabbit to follow. In longing hopelessly for these dainties I fell +asleep. + +I woke very cold and stiff about an hour after dawn. It took me a +little while to remember where I was, for I had been very weary and had +slept heavily. I saw first the pale blue sky through a net of heather, +then a big shoulder of hill, and then my own boots placed neatly in a +blaeberry bush. I raised myself on my arms and looked down into the +valley, and that one look set me lacing up my boots in mad haste. + +For there were men below, not more than a quarter of a mile off, spaced +out on the hillside like a fan, and beating the heather. Marmie had not +been slow in looking for his revenge. + +I crawled out of my shelf into the cover of a boulder, and from it +gained a shallow trench which slanted up the mountain face. This led me +presently into the narrow gully of a burn, by way of which I scrambled +to the top of the ridge. From there I looked back, and saw that I was +still undiscovered. My pursuers were patiently quartering the hillside +and moving upwards. + +Keeping behind the skyline I ran for maybe half a mile, till I judged I +was above the uppermost end of the glen. Then I showed myself, and was +instantly noted by one of the flankers, who passed the word to the +others. I heard cries coming up from below, and saw that the line of +search had changed its direction. I pretended to retreat over the +skyline, but instead went back the way I had come, and in twenty +minutes was behind the ridge overlooking my sleeping place. From that +viewpoint I had the satisfaction of seeing the pursuit streaming up the +hill at the top of the glen on a hopelessly false scent. + +I had before me a choice of routes, and I chose a ridge which made an +angle with the one I was on, and so would soon put a deep glen between +me and my enemies. The exercise had warmed my blood, and I was +beginning to enjoy myself amazingly. As I went I breakfasted on the +dusty remnants of the ginger biscuits. + +I knew very little about the country, and I hadn’t a notion what I was +going to do. I trusted to the strength of my legs, but I was well aware +that those behind me would be familiar with the lie of the land, and +that my ignorance would be a heavy handicap. I saw in front of me a sea +of hills, rising very high towards the south, but northwards breaking +down into broad ridges which separated wide and shallow dales. The +ridge I had chosen seemed to sink after a mile or two to a moor which +lay like a pocket in the uplands. That seemed as good a direction to +take as any other. + +My stratagem had given me a fair start—call it twenty minutes—and I had +the width of a glen behind me before I saw the first heads of the +pursuers. The police had evidently called in local talent to their aid, +and the men I could see had the appearance of herds or gamekeepers. +They hallooed at the sight of me, and I waved my hand. Two dived into +the glen and began to climb my ridge, while the others kept their own +side of the hill. I felt as if I were taking part in a schoolboy game +of hare and hounds. + +But very soon it began to seem less of a game. Those fellows behind +were hefty men on their native heath. Looking back I saw that only +three were following direct, and I guessed that the others had fetched +a circuit to cut me off. My lack of local knowledge might very well be +my undoing, and I resolved to get out of this tangle of glens to the +pocket of moor I had seen from the tops. I must so increase my distance +as to get clear away from them, and I believed I could do this if I +could find the right ground for it. If there had been cover I would +have tried a bit of stalking, but on these bare slopes you could see a +fly a mile off. My hope must be in the length of my legs and the +soundness of my wind, but I needed easier ground for that, for I was +not bred a mountaineer. How I longed for a good Afrikander pony! + +I put on a great spurt and got off my ridge and down into the moor +before any figures appeared on the skyline behind me. I crossed a burn, +and came out on a highroad which made a pass between two glens. All in +front of me was a big field of heather sloping up to a crest which was +crowned with an odd feather of trees. In the dyke by the roadside was a +gate, from which a grass-grown track led over the first wave of the +moor. + +I jumped the dyke and followed it, and after a few hundred yards—as +soon as it was out of sight of the highway—the grass stopped and it +became a very respectable road, which was evidently kept with some +care. Clearly it ran to a house, and I began to think of doing the +same. Hitherto my luck had held, and it might be that my best chance +would be found in this remote dwelling. Anyhow there were trees there, +and that meant cover. + +I did not follow the road, but the burnside which flanked it on the +right, where the bracken grew deep and the high banks made a tolerable +screen. It was well I did so, for no sooner had I gained the hollow +than, looking back, I saw the pursuit topping the ridge from which I +had descended. + +After that I did not look back; I had no time. I ran up the burnside, +crawling over the open places, and for a large part wading in the +shallow stream. I found a deserted cottage with a row of phantom +peat-stacks and an overgrown garden. Then I was among young hay, and +very soon had come to the edge of a plantation of wind-blown firs. From +there I saw the chimneys of the house smoking a few hundred yards to my +left. I forsook the burnside, crossed another dyke, and almost before I +knew was on a rough lawn. A glance back told me that I was well out of +sight of the pursuit, which had not yet passed the first lift of the +moor. + +The lawn was a very rough place, cut with a scythe instead of a mower, +and planted with beds of scrubby rhododendrons. A brace of black-game, +which are not usually garden birds, rose at my approach. The house +before me was the ordinary moorland farm, with a more pretentious +whitewashed wing added. Attached to this wing was a glass veranda, and +through the glass I saw the face of an elderly gentleman meekly +watching me. + +I stalked over the border of coarse hill gravel and entered the open +veranda door. Within was a pleasant room, glass on one side, and on the +other a mass of books. More books showed in an inner room. On the +floor, instead of tables, stood cases such as you see in a museum, +filled with coins and queer stone implements. + +There was a knee-hole desk in the middle, and seated at it, with some +papers and open volumes before him, was the benevolent old gentleman. +His face was round and shiny, like Mr Pickwick’s, big glasses were +stuck on the end of his nose, and the top of his head was as bright and +bare as a glass bottle. He never moved when I entered, but raised his +placid eyebrows and waited on me to speak. + +It was not an easy job, with about five minutes to spare, to tell a +stranger who I was and what I wanted, and to win his aid. I did not +attempt it. There was something about the eye of the man before me, +something so keen and knowledgeable, that I could not find a word. I +simply stared at him and stuttered. + +“You seem in a hurry, my friend,” he said slowly. + +I nodded towards the window. It gave a prospect across the moor through +a gap in the plantation, and revealed certain figures half a mile off +straggling through the heather. + +“Ah, I see,” he said, and took up a pair of field-glasses through which +he patiently scrutinized the figures. + +“A fugitive from justice, eh? Well, we’ll go into the matter at our +leisure. Meantime I object to my privacy being broken in upon by the +clumsy rural policeman. Go into my study, and you will see two doors +facing you. Take the one on the left and close it behind you. You will +be perfectly safe.” + +And this extraordinary man took up his pen again. + +I did as I was bid, and found myself in a little dark chamber which +smelt of chemicals, and was lit only by a tiny window high up in the +wall. The door had swung behind me with a click like the door of a +safe. Once again I had found an unexpected sanctuary. + +All the same I was not comfortable. There was something about the old +gentleman which puzzled and rather terrified me. He had been too easy +and ready, almost as if he had expected me. And his eyes had been +horribly intelligent. + +No sound came to me in that dark place. For all I knew the police might +be searching the house, and if they did they would want to know what +was behind this door. I tried to possess my soul in patience, and to +forget how hungry I was. + +Then I took a more cheerful view. The old gentleman could scarcely +refuse me a meal, and I fell to reconstructing my breakfast. Bacon and +eggs would content me, but I wanted the better part of a flitch of +bacon and half a hundred eggs. And then, while my mouth was watering in +anticipation, there was a click and the door stood open. + +I emerged into the sunlight to find the master of the house sitting in +a deep armchair in the room he called his study, and regarding me with +curious eyes. + +“Have they gone?” I asked. + +“They have gone. I convinced them that you had crossed the hill. I do +not choose that the police should come between me and one whom I am +delighted to honour. This is a lucky morning for you, Mr Richard +Hannay.” + +As he spoke his eyelids seemed to tremble and to fall a little over his +keen grey eyes. In a flash the phrase of Scudder’s came back to me, +when he had described the man he most dreaded in the world. He had said +that he “could hood his eyes like a hawk”. Then I saw that I had walked +straight into the enemy’s headquarters. + +My first impulse was to throttle the old ruffian and make for the open +air. He seemed to anticipate my intention, for he smiled gently, and +nodded to the door behind me. I turned, and saw two men-servants who +had me covered with pistols. + +He knew my name, but he had never seen me before. And as the reflection +darted across my mind I saw a slender chance. + +“I don’t know what you mean,” I said roughly. “And who are you calling +Richard Hannay? My name’s Ainslie.” + +“So?” he said, still smiling. “But of course you have others. We won’t +quarrel about a name.” + +I was pulling myself together now, and I reflected that my garb, +lacking coat and waistcoat and collar, would at any rate not betray me. +I put on my surliest face and shrugged my shoulders. + +“I suppose you’re going to give me up after all, and I call it a damned +dirty trick. My God, I wish I had never seen that cursed motor-car! +Here’s the money and be damned to you,” and I flung four sovereigns on +the table. + +He opened his eyes a little. “Oh no, I shall not give you up. My +friends and I will have a little private settlement with you, that is +all. You know a little too much, Mr Hannay. You are a clever actor, but +not quite clever enough.” + +He spoke with assurance, but I could see the dawning of a doubt in his +mind. + +“Oh, for God’s sake stop jawing,” I cried. “Everything’s against me. I +haven’t had a bit of luck since I came on shore at Leith. What’s the +harm in a poor devil with an empty stomach picking up some money he +finds in a bust-up motor-car? That’s all I done, and for that I’ve been +chivvied for two days by those blasted bobbies over those blasted +hills. I tell you I’m fair sick of it. You can do what you like, old +boy! Ned Ainslie’s got no fight left in him.” + +I could see that the doubt was gaining. + +“Will you oblige me with the story of your recent doings?” he asked. + +“I can’t, guv’nor,” I said in a real beggar’s whine. “I’ve not had a +bite to eat for two days. Give me a mouthful of food, and then you’ll +hear God’s truth.” + +I must have showed my hunger in my face, for he signalled to one of the +men in the doorway. A bit of cold pie was brought and a glass of beer, +and I wolfed them down like a pig—or rather, like Ned Ainslie, for I +was keeping up my character. In the middle of my meal he spoke suddenly +to me in German, but I turned on him a face as blank as a stone wall. + +Then I told him my story—how I had come off an Archangel ship at Leith +a week ago, and was making my way overland to my brother at Wigtown. I +had run short of cash—I hinted vaguely at a spree—and I was pretty well +on my uppers when I had come on a hole in a hedge, and, looking +through, had seen a big motor-car lying in the burn. I had poked about +to see what had happened, and had found three sovereigns lying on the +seat and one on the floor. There was nobody there or any sign of an +owner, so I had pocketed the cash. But somehow the law had got after +me. When I had tried to change a sovereign in a baker’s shop, the woman +had cried on the police, and a little later, when I was washing my face +in a burn, I had been nearly gripped, and had only got away by leaving +my coat and waistcoat behind me. + +“They can have the money back,” I cried, “for a fat lot of good it’s +done me. Those perishers are all down on a poor man. Now, if it had +been you, guv’nor, that had found the quids, nobody would have troubled +you.” + +“You’re a good liar, Hannay,” he said. + +I flew into a rage. “Stop fooling, damn you! I tell you my name’s +Ainslie, and I never heard of anyone called Hannay in my born days. I’d +sooner have the police than you with your Hannays and your monkey-faced +pistol tricks.... No, guv’nor, I beg pardon, I don’t mean that. I’m +much obliged to you for the grub, and I’ll thank you to let me go now +the coast’s clear.” + +It was obvious that he was badly puzzled. You see he had never seen me, +and my appearance must have altered considerably from my photographs, +if he had got one of them. I was pretty smart and well dressed in +London, and now I was a regular tramp. + +“I do not propose to let you go. If you are what you say you are, you +will soon have a chance of clearing yourself. If you are what I believe +you are, I do not think you will see the light much longer.” + +He rang a bell, and a third servant appeared from the veranda. + +“I want the Lanchester in five minutes,” he said. “There will be three +to luncheon.” + +Then he looked steadily at me, and that was the hardest ordeal of all. + +There was something weird and devilish in those eyes, cold, malignant, +unearthly, and most hellishly clever. They fascinated me like the +bright eyes of a snake. I had a strong impulse to throw myself on his +mercy and offer to join his side, and if you consider the way I felt +about the whole thing you will see that that impulse must have been +purely physical, the weakness of a brain mesmerized and mastered by a +stronger spirit. But I managed to stick it out and even to grin. + +“You’ll know me next time, guv’nor,” I said. + +“Karl,” he spoke in German to one of the men in the doorway, “you will +put this fellow in the storeroom till I return, and you will be +answerable to me for his keeping.” + +I was marched out of the room with a pistol at each ear. + + + +The storeroom was a damp chamber in what had been the old farmhouse. +There was no carpet on the uneven floor, and nothing to sit down on but +a school form. It was black as pitch, for the windows were heavily +shuttered. I made out by groping that the walls were lined with boxes +and barrels and sacks of some heavy stuff. The whole place smelt of +mould and disuse. My gaolers turned the key in the door, and I could +hear them shifting their feet as they stood on guard outside. + +I sat down in that chilly darkness in a very miserable frame of mind. +The old boy had gone off in a motor to collect the two ruffians who had +interviewed me yesterday. Now, they had seen me as the roadman, and +they would remember me, for I was in the same rig. What was a roadman +doing twenty miles from his beat, pursued by the police? A question or +two would put them on the track. Probably they had seen Mr Turnbull, +probably Marmie too; most likely they could link me up with Sir Harry, +and then the whole thing would be crystal clear. What chance had I in +this moorland house with three desperadoes and their armed servants? + +I began to think wistfully of the police, now plodding over the hills +after my wraith. They at any rate were fellow-countrymen and honest +men, and their tender mercies would be kinder than these ghoulish +aliens. But they wouldn’t have listened to me. That old devil with the +eyelids had not taken long to get rid of them. I thought he probably +had some kind of graft with the constabulary. Most likely he had +letters from Cabinet Ministers saying he was to be given every facility +for plotting against Britain. That’s the sort of owlish way we run our +politics in this jolly old country. + +The three would be back for lunch, so I hadn’t more than a couple of +hours to wait. It was simply waiting on destruction, for I could see no +way out of this mess. I wished that I had Scudder’s courage, for I am +free to confess I didn’t feel any great fortitude. The only thing that +kept me going was that I was pretty furious. It made me boil with rage +to think of those three spies getting the pull on me like this. I hoped +that at any rate I might be able to twist one of their necks before +they downed me. + +The more I thought of it the angrier I grew, and I had to get up and +move about the room. I tried the shutters, but they were the kind that +lock with a key, and I couldn’t move them. From the outside came the +faint clucking of hens in the warm sun. Then I groped among the sacks +and boxes. I couldn’t open the latter, and the sacks seemed to be full +of things like dog-biscuits that smelt of cinnamon. But, as I +circumnavigated the room, I found a handle in the wall which seemed +worth investigating. + +It was the door of a wall cupboard—what they call a “press” in +Scotland—and it was locked. I shook it, and it seemed rather flimsy. +For want of something better to do I put out my strength on that door, +getting some purchase on the handle by looping my braces round it. +Presently the thing gave with a crash which I thought would bring in my +warders to inquire. I waited for a bit, and then started to explore the +cupboard shelves. + +There was a multitude of queer things there. I found an odd vesta or +two in my trouser pockets and struck a light. It was out in a second, +but it showed me one thing. There was a little stock of electric +torches on one shelf. I picked up one, and found it was in working +order. + +With the torch to help me I investigated further. There were bottles +and cases of queer-smelling stuffs, chemicals no doubt for experiments, +and there were coils of fine copper wire and yanks and yanks of thin +oiled silk. There was a box of detonators, and a lot of cord for fuses. +Then away at the back of the shelf I found a stout brown cardboard box, +and inside it a wooden case. I managed to wrench it open, and within +lay half a dozen little grey bricks, each a couple of inches square. + +I took up one, and found that it crumbled easily in my hand. Then I +smelt it and put my tongue to it. After that I sat down to think. I +hadn’t been a mining engineer for nothing, and I knew lentonite when I +saw it. + +With one of these bricks I could blow the house to smithereens. I had +used the stuff in Rhodesia and knew its power. But the trouble was that +my knowledge wasn’t exact. I had forgotten the proper charge and the +right way of preparing it, and I wasn’t sure about the timing. I had +only a vague notion, too, as to its power, for though I had used it I +had not handled it with my own fingers. + +But it was a chance, the only possible chance. It was a mighty risk, +but against it was an absolute black certainty. If I used it the odds +were, as I reckoned, about five to one in favour of my blowing myself +into the tree-tops; but if I didn’t I should very likely be occupying a +six-foot hole in the garden by the evening. That was the way I had to +look at it. The prospect was pretty dark either way, but anyhow there +was a chance, both for myself and for my country. + +The remembrance of little Scudder decided me. It was about the +beastliest moment of my life, for I’m no good at these cold-blooded +resolutions. Still I managed to rake up the pluck to set my teeth and +choke back the horrid doubts that flooded in on me. I simply shut off +my mind and pretended I was doing an experiment as simple as Guy Fawkes +fireworks. + +I got a detonator, and fixed it to a couple of feet of fuse. Then I +took a quarter of a lentonite brick, and buried it near the door below +one of the sacks in a crack of the floor, fixing the detonator in it. +For all I knew half those boxes might be dynamite. If the cupboard held +such deadly explosives, why not the boxes? In that case there would be +a glorious skyward journey for me and the German servants and about an +acre of surrounding country. There was also the risk that the +detonation might set off the other bricks in the cupboard, for I had +forgotten most that I knew about lentonite. But it didn’t do to begin +thinking about the possibilities. The odds were horrible, but I had to +take them. + +I ensconced myself just below the sill of the window, and lit the fuse. +Then I waited for a moment or two. There was dead silence—only a +shuffle of heavy boots in the passage, and the peaceful cluck of hens +from the warm out-of-doors. I commended my soul to my Maker, and +wondered where I would be in five seconds.... + +A great wave of heat seemed to surge upwards from the floor, and hang +for a blistering instant in the air. Then the wall opposite me flashed +into a golden yellow and dissolved with a rending thunder that hammered +my brain into a pulp. Something dropped on me, catching the point of my +left shoulder. + +And then I think I became unconscious. + +My stupor can scarcely have lasted beyond a few seconds. I felt myself +being choked by thick yellow fumes, and struggled out of the debris to +my feet. Somewhere behind me I felt fresh air. The jambs of the window +had fallen, and through the ragged rent the smoke was pouring out to +the summer noon. I stepped over the broken lintel, and found myself +standing in a yard in a dense and acrid fog. I felt very sick and ill, +but I could move my limbs, and I staggered blindly forward away from +the house. + +A small mill-lade ran in a wooden aqueduct at the other side of the +yard, and into this I fell. The cool water revived me, and I had just +enough wits left to think of escape. I squirmed up the lade among the +slippery green slime till I reached the mill-wheel. Then I wriggled +through the axle hole into the old mill and tumbled on to a bed of +chaff. A nail caught the seat of my trousers, and I left a wisp of +heather-mixture behind me. + +The mill had been long out of use. The ladders were rotten with age, +and in the loft the rats had gnawed great holes in the floor. Nausea +shook me, and a wheel in my head kept turning, while my left shoulder +and arm seemed to be stricken with the palsy. I looked out of the +window and saw a fog still hanging over the house and smoke escaping +from an upper window. Please God I had set the place on fire, for I +could hear confused cries coming from the other side. + +But I had no time to linger, since this mill was obviously a bad +hiding-place. Anyone looking for me would naturally follow the lade, +and I made certain the search would begin as soon as they found that my +body was not in the storeroom. From another window I saw that on the +far side of the mill stood an old stone dovecot. If I could get there +without leaving tracks I might find a hiding-place, for I argued that +my enemies, if they thought I could move, would conclude I had made for +open country, and would go seeking me on the moor. + +I crawled down the broken ladder, scattering chaff behind me to cover +my footsteps. I did the same on the mill floor, and on the threshold +where the door hung on broken hinges. Peeping out, I saw that between +me and the dovecot was a piece of bare cobbled ground, where no +footmarks would show. Also it was mercifully hid by the mill buildings +from any view from the house. I slipped across the space, got to the +back of the dovecot and prospected a way of ascent. + +That was one of the hardest jobs I ever took on. My shoulder and arm +ached like hell, and I was so sick and giddy that I was always on the +verge of falling. But I managed it somehow. By the use of out-jutting +stones and gaps in the masonry and a tough ivy root I got to the top in +the end. There was a little parapet behind which I found space to lie +down. Then I proceeded to go off into an old-fashioned swoon. + +I woke with a burning head and the sun glaring in my face. For a long +time I lay motionless, for those horrible fumes seemed to have loosened +my joints and dulled my brain. Sounds came to me from the house—men +speaking throatily and the throbbing of a stationary car. There was a +little gap in the parapet to which I wriggled, and from which I had +some sort of prospect of the yard. I saw figures come out—a servant +with his head bound up, and then a younger man in knickerbockers. They +were looking for something, and moved towards the mill. Then one of +them caught sight of the wisp of cloth on the nail, and cried out to +the other. They both went back to the house, and brought two more to +look at it. I saw the rotund figure of my late captor, and I thought I +made out the man with the lisp. I noticed that all had pistols. + +For half an hour they ransacked the mill. I could hear them kicking +over the barrels and pulling up the rotten planking. Then they came +outside, and stood just below the dovecot arguing fiercely. The servant +with the bandage was being soundly rated. I heard them fiddling with +the door of the dovecote and for one horrid moment I fancied they were +coming up. Then they thought better of it, and went back to the house. + +All that long blistering afternoon I lay baking on the rooftop. Thirst +was my chief torment. My tongue was like a stick, and to make it worse +I could hear the cool drip of water from the mill-lade. I watched the +course of the little stream as it came in from the moor, and my fancy +followed it to the top of the glen, where it must issue from an icy +fountain fringed with cool ferns and mosses. I would have given a +thousand pounds to plunge my face into that. + +I had a fine prospect of the whole ring of moorland. I saw the car +speed away with two occupants, and a man on a hill pony riding east. I +judged they were looking for me, and I wished them joy of their quest. + +But I saw something else more interesting. The house stood almost on +the summit of a swell of moorland which crowned a sort of plateau, and +there was no higher point nearer than the big hills six miles off. The +actual summit, as I have mentioned, was a biggish clump of trees—firs +mostly, with a few ashes and beeches. On the dovecot I was almost on a +level with the tree-tops, and could see what lay beyond. The wood was +not solid, but only a ring, and inside was an oval of green turf, for +all the world like a big cricket-field. + +I didn’t take long to guess what it was. It was an aerodrome, and a +secret one. The place had been most cunningly chosen. For suppose +anyone were watching an aeroplane descending here, he would think it +had gone over the hill beyond the trees. As the place was on the top of +a rise in the midst of a big amphitheatre, any observer from any +direction would conclude it had passed out of view behind the hill. +Only a man very close at hand would realize that the aeroplane had not +gone over but had descended in the midst of the wood. An observer with +a telescope on one of the higher hills might have discovered the truth, +but only herds went there, and herds do not carry spy-glasses. When I +looked from the dovecot I could see far away a blue line which I knew +was the sea, and I grew furious to think that our enemies had this +secret conning-tower to rake our waterways. + +Then I reflected that if that aeroplane came back the chances were ten +to one that I would be discovered. So through the afternoon I lay and +prayed for the coming of darkness, and glad I was when the sun went +down over the big western hills and the twilight haze crept over the +moor. The aeroplane was late. The gloaming was far advanced when I +heard the beat of wings and saw it volplaning downward to its home in +the wood. Lights twinkled for a bit and there was much coming and going +from the house. Then the dark fell, and silence. + +Thank God it was a black night. The moon was well on its last quarter +and would not rise till late. My thirst was too great to allow me to +tarry, so about nine o’clock, so far as I could judge, I started to +descend. It wasn’t easy, and half-way down I heard the back door of the +house open, and saw the gleam of a lantern against the mill wall. For +some agonizing minutes I hung by the ivy and prayed that whoever it was +would not come round by the dovecot. Then the light disappeared, and I +dropped as softly as I could on to the hard soil of the yard. + +I crawled on my belly in the lee of a stone dyke till I reached the +fringe of trees which surrounded the house. If I had known how to do it +I would have tried to put that aeroplane out of action, but I realized +that any attempt would probably be futile. I was pretty certain that +there would be some kind of defence round the house, so I went through +the wood on hands and knees, feeling carefully every inch before me. It +was as well, for presently I came on a wire about two feet from the +ground. If I had tripped over that, it would doubtless have rung some +bell in the house and I would have been captured. + +A hundred yards farther on I found another wire cunningly placed on the +edge of a small stream. Beyond that lay the moor, and in five minutes I +was deep in bracken and heather. Soon I was round the shoulder of the +rise, in the little glen from which the mill-lade flowed. Ten minutes +later my face was in the spring, and I was soaking down pints of the +blessed water. + +But I did not stop till I had put half a dozen miles between me and +that accursed dwelling. + + + +Chapter VII + + + The Dry-Fly Fisherman + +I sat down on a hill-top and took stock of my position. I wasn’t +feeling very happy, for my natural thankfulness at my escape was +clouded by my severe bodily discomfort. Those lentonite fumes had +fairly poisoned me, and the baking hours on the dovecot hadn’t helped +matters. I had a crushing headache, and felt as sick as a cat. Also my +shoulder was in a bad way. At first I thought it was only a bruise, but +it seemed to be swelling, and I had no use of my left arm. + +My plan was to seek Mr Turnbull’s cottage, recover my garments, and +especially Scudder’s note-book, and then make for the main line and get +back to the south. It seemed to me that the sooner I got in touch with +the Foreign Office man, Sir Walter Bullivant, the better. I didn’t see +how I could get more proof than I had got already. He must just take or +leave my story, and anyway, with him I would be in better hands than +those devilish Germans. I had begun to feel quite kindly towards the +British police. + +It was a wonderful starry night, and I had not much difficulty about +the road. Sir Harry’s map had given me the lie of the land, and all I +had to do was to steer a point or two west of south-west to come to the +stream where I had met the roadman. In all these travels I never knew +the names of the places, but I believe this stream was no less than the +upper waters of the river Tweed. I calculated I must be about eighteen +miles distant, and that meant I could not get there before morning. So +I must lie up a day somewhere, for I was too outrageous a figure to be +seen in the sunlight. I had neither coat, waistcoat, collar, nor hat, +my trousers were badly torn, and my face and hands were black with the +explosion. I daresay I had other beauties, for my eyes felt as if they +were furiously bloodshot. Altogether I was no spectacle for God-fearing +citizens to see on a highroad. + +Very soon after daybreak I made an attempt to clean myself in a hill +burn, and then approached a herd’s cottage, for I was feeling the need +of food. The herd was away from home, and his wife was alone, with no +neighbour for five miles. She was a decent old body, and a plucky one, +for though she got a fright when she saw me, she had an axe handy, and +would have used it on any evil-doer. I told her that I had had a fall—I +didn’t say how—and she saw by my looks that I was pretty sick. Like a +true Samaritan she asked no questions, but gave me a bowl of milk with +a dash of whisky in it, and let me sit for a little by her kitchen +fire. She would have bathed my shoulder, but it ached so badly that I +would not let her touch it. + +I don’t know what she took me for—a repentant burglar, perhaps; for +when I wanted to pay her for the milk and tendered a sovereign which +was the smallest coin I had, she shook her head and said something +about “giving it to them that had a right to it”. At this I protested +so strongly that I think she believed me honest, for she took the money +and gave me a warm new plaid for it, and an old hat of her man’s. She +showed me how to wrap the plaid around my shoulders, and when I left +that cottage I was the living image of the kind of Scotsman you see in +the illustrations to Burns’s poems. But at any rate I was more or less +clad. + +It was as well, for the weather changed before midday to a thick +drizzle of rain. I found shelter below an overhanging rock in the crook +of a burn, where a drift of dead brackens made a tolerable bed. There I +managed to sleep till nightfall, waking very cramped and wretched, with +my shoulder gnawing like a toothache. I ate the oatcake and cheese the +old wife had given me and set out again just before the darkening. + +I pass over the miseries of that night among the wet hills. There were +no stars to steer by, and I had to do the best I could from my memory +of the map. Twice I lost my way, and I had some nasty falls into +peat-bogs. I had only about ten miles to go as the crow flies, but my +mistakes made it nearer twenty. The last bit was completed with set +teeth and a very light and dizzy head. But I managed it, and in the +early dawn I was knocking at Mr Turnbull’s door. The mist lay close and +thick, and from the cottage I could not see the highroad. + +Mr Turnbull himself opened to me—sober and something more than sober. +He was primly dressed in an ancient but well-tended suit of black; he +had been shaved not later than the night before; he wore a linen +collar; and in his left hand he carried a pocket Bible. At first he did +not recognize me. + +“Whae are ye that comes stravaigin’ here on the Sabbath mornin’?” he +asked. + +I had lost all count of the days. So the Sabbath was the reason for +this strange decorum. + +My head was swimming so wildly that I could not frame a coherent +answer. But he recognized me, and he saw that I was ill. + +“Hae ye got my specs?” he asked. + +I fetched them out of my trouser pocket and gave him them. + +“Ye’ll hae come for your jaicket and westcoat,” he said. “Come in-bye. +Losh, man, ye’re terrible dune i’ the legs. Haud up till I get ye to a +chair.” + +I perceived I was in for a bout of malaria. I had a good deal of fever +in my bones, and the wet night had brought it out, while my shoulder +and the effects of the fumes combined to make me feel pretty bad. +Before I knew, Mr Turnbull was helping me off with my clothes, and +putting me to bed in one of the two cupboards that lined the kitchen +walls. + +He was a true friend in need, that old roadman. His wife was dead years +ago, and since his daughter’s marriage he lived alone. + +For the better part of ten days he did all the rough nursing I needed. +I simply wanted to be left in peace while the fever took its course, +and when my skin was cool again I found that the bout had more or less +cured my shoulder. But it was a baddish go, and though I was out of bed +in five days, it took me some time to get my legs again. + +He went out each morning, leaving me milk for the day, and locking the +door behind him; and came in in the evening to sit silent in the +chimney corner. Not a soul came near the place. When I was getting +better, he never bothered me with a question. Several times he fetched +me a two days’ old _Scotsman_, and I noticed that the interest in the +Portland Place murder seemed to have died down. There was no mention of +it, and I could find very little about anything except a thing called +the General Assembly—some ecclesiastical spree, I gathered. + +One day he produced my belt from a lockfast drawer. “There’s a terrible +heap o’ siller in’t,” he said. “Ye’d better coont it to see it’s a’ +there.” + +He never even sought my name. I asked him if anybody had been around +making inquiries subsequent to my spell at the road-making. + +“Ay, there was a man in a motor-cawr. He speired whae had ta’en my +place that day, and I let on I thocht him daft. But he keepit on at me, +and syne I said he maun be thinkin’ o’ my gude-brither frae the Cleuch +that whiles lent me a haun’. He was a wersh-lookin’ sowl, and I couldna +understand the half o’ his English tongue.” + +I was getting restless those last days, and as soon as I felt myself +fit I decided to be off. That was not till the twelfth day of June, and +as luck would have it a drover went past that morning taking some +cattle to Moffat. He was a man named Hislop, a friend of Turnbull’s, +and he came in to his breakfast with us and offered to take me with +him. + +I made Turnbull accept five pounds for my lodging, and a hard job I had +of it. There never was a more independent being. He grew positively +rude when I pressed him, and shy and red, and took the money at last +without a thank you. When I told him how much I owed him, he grunted +something about “ae guid turn deservin’ anitherv” You would have +thought from our leave-taking that we had parted in disgust. + +Hislop was a cheery soul, who chattered all the way over the pass and +down the sunny vale of Annan. I talked of Galloway markets and sheep +prices, and he made up his mind I was a “pack-shepherd” from those +parts—whatever that may be. My plaid and my old hat, as I have said, +gave me a fine theatrical Scots look. But driving cattle is a mortally +slow job, and we took the better part of the day to cover a dozen +miles. + +If I had not had such an anxious heart I would have enjoyed that time. +It was shining blue weather, with a constantly changing prospect of +brown hills and far green meadows, and a continual sound of larks and +curlews and falling streams. But I had no mind for the summer, and +little for Hislop’s conversation, for as the fateful fifteenth of June +drew near I was overweighed with the hopeless difficulties of my +enterprise. + +I got some dinner in a humble Moffat public-house, and walked the two +miles to the junction on the main line. The night express for the south +was not due till near midnight, and to fill up the time I went up on +the hillside and fell asleep, for the walk had tired me. I all but +slept too long, and had to run to the station and catch the train with +two minutes to spare. The feel of the hard third-class cushions and the +smell of stale tobacco cheered me up wonderfully. At any rate, I felt +now that I was getting to grips with my job. + +I was decanted at Crewe in the small hours and had to wait till six to +get a train for Birmingham. In the afternoon I got to Reading, and +changed into a local train which journeyed into the deeps of Berkshire. +Presently I was in a land of lush water-meadows and slow reedy streams. +About eight o’clock in the evening, a weary and travel-stained being—a +cross between a farm-labourer and a vet—with a checked black-and-white +plaid over his arm (for I did not dare to wear it south of the Border), +descended at the little station of Artinswell. There were several +people on the platform, and I thought I had better wait to ask my way +till I was clear of the place. + +The road led through a wood of great beeches and then into a shallow +valley, with the green backs of downs peeping over the distant trees. +After Scotland the air smelt heavy and flat, but infinitely sweet, for +the limes and chestnuts and lilac bushes were domes of blossom. +Presently I came to a bridge, below which a clear slow stream flowed +between snowy beds of water-buttercups. A little above it was a mill; +and the lasher made a pleasant cool sound in the scented dusk. Somehow +the place soothed me and put me at my ease. I fell to whistling as I +looked into the green depths, and the tune which came to my lips was +“Annie Laurie”. + +A fisherman came up from the waterside, and as he neared me he too +began to whistle. The tune was infectious, for he followed my suit. He +was a huge man in untidy old flannels and a wide-brimmed hat, with a +canvas bag slung on his shoulder. He nodded to me, and I thought I had +never seen a shrewder or better-tempered face. He leaned his delicate +ten-foot split-cane rod against the bridge, and looked with me at the +water. + +“Clear, isn’t it?” he said pleasantly. “I back our Kennet any day +against the Test. Look at that big fellow. Four pounds if he’s an +ounce. But the evening rise is over and you can’t tempt ’em.” + +“I don’t see him,” said I. + +“Look! There! A yard from the reeds just above that stickle.” + +“I’ve got him now. You might swear he was a black stone.” + +“So,” he said, and whistled another bar of “Annie Laurie”. + +“Twisdon’s the name, isn’t it?” he said over his shoulder, his eyes +still fixed on the stream. + +“No,” I said. “I mean to say, Yes.” I had forgotten all about my +_alias_. + +“It’s a wise conspirator that knows his own name,” he observed, +grinning broadly at a moor-hen that emerged from the bridge’s shadow. + +I stood up and looked at him, at the square, cleft jaw and broad, lined +brow and the firm folds of cheek, and began to think that here at last +was an ally worth having. His whimsical blue eyes seemed to go very +deep. + +Suddenly he frowned. “I call it disgraceful,” he said, raising his +voice. “Disgraceful that an able-bodied man like you should dare to +beg. You can get a meal from my kitchen, but you’ll get no money from +me.” + +A dog-cart was passing, driven by a young man who raised his whip to +salute the fisherman. When he had gone, he picked up his rod. + +“That’s my house,” he said, pointing to a white gate a hundred yards +on. “Wait five minutes and then go round to the back door.” And with +that he left me. + +I did as I was bidden. I found a pretty cottage with a lawn running +down to the stream, and a perfect jungle of guelder-rose and lilac +flanking the path. The back door stood open, and a grave butler was +awaiting me. + +“Come this way, sir,” he said, and he led me along a passage and up a +back staircase to a pleasant bedroom looking towards the river. There I +found a complete outfit laid out for me—dress clothes with all the +fixings, a brown flannel suit, shirts, collars, ties, shaving things +and hair-brushes, even a pair of patent shoes. “Sir Walter thought as +how Mr Reggie’s things would fit you, sir,” said the butler. “He keeps +some clothes ’ere, for he comes regular on the week-ends. There’s a +bathroom next door, and I’ve prepared a ’ot bath. Dinner in ’alf an +hour, sir. You’ll ’ear the gong.” + +The grave being withdrew, and I sat down in a chintz-covered easy-chair +and gaped. It was like a pantomime, to come suddenly out of beggardom +into this orderly comfort. Obviously Sir Walter believed in me, though +why he did I could not guess. I looked at myself in the mirror and saw +a wild, haggard brown fellow, with a fortnight’s ragged beard, and dust +in ears and eyes, collarless, vulgarly shirted, with shapeless old +tweed clothes and boots that had not been cleaned for the better part +of a month. I made a fine tramp and a fair drover; and here I was +ushered by a prim butler into this temple of gracious ease. And the +best of it was that they did not even know my name. + +I resolved not to puzzle my head but to take the gifts the gods had +provided. I shaved and bathed luxuriously, and got into the dress +clothes and clean crackling shirt, which fitted me not so badly. By the +time I had finished the looking-glass showed a not unpersonable young +man. + +Sir Walter awaited me in a dusky dining-room where a little round table +was lit with silver candles. The sight of him—so respectable and +established and secure, the embodiment of law and government and all +the conventions—took me aback and made me feel an interloper. He +couldn’t know the truth about me, or he wouldn’t treat me like this. I +simply could not accept his hospitality on false pretences. + +“I’m more obliged to you than I can say, but I’m bound to make things +clear,” I said. “I’m an innocent man, but I’m wanted by the police. +I’ve got to tell you this, and I won’t be surprised if you kick me +out.” + +He smiled. “That’s all right. Don’t let that interfere with your +appetite. We can talk about these things after dinner.” I never ate a +meal with greater relish, for I had had nothing all day but railway +sandwiches. Sir Walter did me proud, for we drank a good champagne and +had some uncommon fine port afterwards. It made me almost hysterical to +be sitting there, waited on by a footman and a sleek butler, and +remember that I had been living for three weeks like a brigand, with +every man’s hand against me. I told Sir Walter about tiger-fish in the +Zambesi that bite off your fingers if you give them a chance, and we +discussed sport up and down the globe, for he had hunted a bit in his +day. + +We went to his study for coffee, a jolly room full of books and +trophies and untidiness and comfort. I made up my mind that if ever I +got rid of this business and had a house of my own, I would create just +such a room. Then when the coffee-cups were cleared away, and we had +got our cigars alight, my host swung his long legs over the side of his +chair and bade me get started with my yarn. + +“I’ve obeyed Harry’s instructions,” he said, “and the bribe he offered +me was that you would tell me something to wake me up. I’m ready, Mr +Hannay.” + +I noticed with a start that he called me by my proper name. + +I began at the very beginning. I told of my boredom in London, and the +night I had come back to find Scudder gibbering on my doorstep. I told +him all Scudder had told me about Karolides and the Foreign Office +conference, and that made him purse his lips and grin. + +Then I got to the murder, and he grew solemn again. He heard all about +the milkman and my time in Galloway, and my deciphering Scudder’s notes +at the inn. + +“You’ve got them here?” he asked sharply, and drew a long breath when I +whipped the little book from my pocket. + +I said nothing of the contents. Then I described my meeting with Sir +Harry, and the speeches at the hall. At that he laughed uproariously. + +“Harry talked dashed nonsense, did he? I quite believe it. He’s as good +a chap as ever breathed, but his idiot of an uncle has stuffed his head +with maggots. Go on, Mr Hannay.” + +My day as roadman excited him a bit. He made me describe the two +fellows in the car very closely, and seemed to be raking back in his +memory. He grew merry again when he heard of the fate of that ass +Jopley. + +But the old man in the moorland house solemnized him. Again I had to +describe every detail of his appearance. + +“Bland and bald-headed and hooded his eyes like a bird.... He sounds a +sinister wild-fowl! And you dynamited his hermitage, after he had saved +you from the police. Spirited piece of work, that!” Presently I reached +the end of my wanderings. He got up slowly, and looked down at me from +the hearthrug. + +“You may dismiss the police from your mind,” he said. “You’re in no +danger from the law of this land.” + +“Great Scot!” I cried. “Have they got the murderer?” + +“No. But for the last fortnight they have dropped you from the list of +possibles.” + +“Why?” I asked in amazement. + +“Principally because I received a letter from Scudder. I knew something +of the man, and he did several jobs for me. He was half crank, half +genius, but he was wholly honest. The trouble about him was his +partiality for playing a lone hand. That made him pretty well useless +in any Secret Service—a pity, for he had uncommon gifts. I think he was +the bravest man in the world, for he was always shivering with fright, +and yet nothing would choke him off. I had a letter from him on the +31st of May.” + +“But he had been dead a week by then.” + +“The letter was written and posted on the 23rd. He evidently did not +anticipate an immediate decease. His communications usually took a week +to reach me, for they were sent under cover to Spain and then to +Newcastle. He had a mania, you know, for concealing his tracks.” + +“What did he say?” I stammered. + +“Nothing. Merely that he was in danger, but had found shelter with a +good friend, and that I would hear from him before the 15th of June. He +gave me no address, but said he was living near Portland Place. I think +his object was to clear you if anything happened. When I got it I went +to Scotland Yard, went over the details of the inquest, and concluded +that you were the friend. We made inquiries about you, Mr Hannay, and +found you were respectable. I thought I knew the motives for your +disappearance—not only the police, the other one too—and when I got +Harry’s scrawl I guessed at the rest. I have been expecting you any +time this past week.” + +You can imagine what a load this took off my mind. I felt a free man +once more, for I was now up against my country’s enemies only, and not +my country’s law. + +“Now let us have the little note-book,” said Sir Walter. + +It took us a good hour to work through it. I explained the cypher, and +he was jolly quick at picking it up. He emended my reading of it on +several points, but I had been fairly correct, on the whole. His face +was very grave before he had finished, and he sat silent for a while. + +“I don’t know what to make of it,” he said at last. “He is right about +one thing—what is going to happen the day after tomorrow. How the devil +can it have got known? That is ugly enough in itself. But all this +about war and the Black Stone—it reads like some wild melodrama. If +only I had more confidence in Scudder’s judgement. The trouble about +him was that he was too romantic. He had the artistic temperament, and +wanted a story to be better than God meant it to be. He had a lot of +odd biases, too. Jews, for example, made him see red. Jews and the high +finance. + +“The Black Stone,” he repeated. “_Der Schwarze Stein_. It’s like a +penny novelette. And all this stuff about Karolides. That is the weak +part of the tale, for I happen to know that the virtuous Karolides is +likely to outlast us both. There is no State in Europe that wants him +gone. Besides, he has just been playing up to Berlin and Vienna and +giving my Chief some uneasy moments. No! Scudder has gone off the track +there. Frankly, Hannay, I don’t believe that part of his story. There’s +some nasty business afoot, and he found out too much and lost his life +over it. But I am ready to take my oath that it is ordinary spy work. A +certain great European Power makes a hobby of her spy system, and her +methods are not too particular. Since she pays by piecework her +blackguards are not likely to stick at a murder or two. They want our +naval dispositions for their collection at the Marineamt; but they will +be pigeon-holed—nothing more.” + +Just then the butler entered the room. + +“There’s a trunk-call from London, Sir Walter. It’s Mr ’Eath, and he +wants to speak to you personally.” + +My host went off to the telephone. + +He returned in five minutes with a whitish face. “I apologize to the +shade of Scudder,” he said. “Karolides was shot dead this evening at a +few minutes after seven.” + + + +Chapter VIII + + + The Coming of the Black Stone + +I came down to breakfast next morning, after eight hours of blessed +dreamless sleep, to find Sir Walter decoding a telegram in the midst of +muffins and marmalade. His fresh rosiness of yesterday seemed a thought +tarnished. + +“I had a busy hour on the telephone after you went to bed,” he said. “I +got my Chief to speak to the First Lord and the Secretary for War, and +they are bringing Royer over a day sooner. This wire clinches it. He +will be in London at five. Odd that the code word for a _Sous-chef +d’État Major-General_ should be ‘Porker.’” + +He directed me to the hot dishes and went on. + +“Not that I think it will do much good. If your friends were clever +enough to find out the first arrangement they are clever enough to +discover the change. I would give my head to know where the leak is. We +believed there were only five men in England who knew about Royer’s +visit, and you may be certain there were fewer in France, for they +manage these things better there.” + +While I ate he continued to talk, making me to my surprise a present of +his full confidence. + +“Can the dispositions not be changed?” I asked. + +“They could,” he said. “But we want to avoid that if possible. They are +the result of immense thought, and no alteration would be as good. +Besides, on one or two points change is simply impossible. Still, +something could be done, I suppose, if it were absolutely necessary. +But you see the difficulty, Hannay. Our enemies are not going to be +such fools as to pick Royer’s pocket or any childish game like that. +They know that would mean a row and put us on our guard. Their aim is +to get the details without any one of us knowing, so that Royer will go +back to Paris in the belief that the whole business is still deadly +secret. If they can’t do that they fail, for, once we suspect, they +know that the whole thing must be altered.” + +“Then we must stick by the Frenchman’s side till he is home again,” I +said. “If they thought they could get the information in Paris they +would try there. It means that they have some deep scheme on foot in +London which they reckon is going to win out.” + +“Royer dines with my Chief, and then comes to my house where four +people will see him—Whittaker from the Admiralty, myself, Sir Arthur +Drew, and General Winstanley. The First Lord is ill, and has gone to +Sheringham. At my house he will get a certain document from Whittaker, +and after that he will be motored to Portsmouth where a destroyer will +take him to Havre. His journey is too important for the ordinary +boat-train. He will never be left unattended for a moment till he is +safe on French soil. The same with Whittaker till he meets Royer. That +is the best we can do, and it’s hard to see how there can be any +miscarriage. But I don’t mind admitting that I’m horribly nervous. This +murder of Karolides will play the deuce in the chancelleries of +Europe.” + +After breakfast he asked me if I could drive a car. “Well, you’ll be my +chauffeur today and wear Hudson’s rig. You’re about his size. You have +a hand in this business and we are taking no risks. There are desperate +men against us, who will not respect the country retreat of an +overworked official.” + +When I first came to London I had bought a car and amused myself with +running about the south of England, so I knew something of the +geography. I took Sir Walter to town by the Bath Road and made good +going. It was a soft breathless June morning, with a promise of +sultriness later, but it was delicious enough swinging through the +little towns with their freshly watered streets, and past the summer +gardens of the Thames valley. I landed Sir Walter at his house in Queen +Anne’s Gate punctually by half-past eleven. The butler was coming up by +train with the luggage. + +The first thing he did was to take me round to Scotland Yard. There we +saw a prim gentleman, with a clean-shaven, lawyer’s face. + +“I’ve brought you the Portland Place murderer,” was Sir Walter’s +introduction. + +The reply was a wry smile. “It would have been a welcome present, +Bullivant. This, I presume, is Mr Richard Hannay, who for some days +greatly interested my department.” + +“Mr Hannay will interest it again. He has much to tell you, but not +today. For certain grave reasons his tale must wait for four hours. +Then, I can promise you, you will be entertained and possibly edified. +I want you to assure Mr Hannay that he will suffer no further +inconvenience.” + +This assurance was promptly given. “You can take up your life where you +left off,” I was told. “Your flat, which probably you no longer wish to +occupy, is waiting for you, and your man is still there. As you were +never publicly accused, we considered that there was no need of a +public exculpation. But on that, of course, you must please yourself.” + +“We may want your assistance later on, MacGillivray,” Sir Walter said +as we left. + +Then he turned me loose. + +“Come and see me tomorrow, Hannay. I needn’t tell you to keep deadly +quiet. If I were you I would go to bed, for you must have considerable +arrears of sleep to overtake. You had better lie low, for if one of +your Black Stone friends saw you there might be trouble.” + +I felt curiously at a loose end. At first it was very pleasant to be a +free man, able to go where I wanted without fearing anything. I had +only been a month under the ban of the law, and it was quite enough for +me. I went to the Savoy and ordered very carefully a very good +luncheon, and then smoked the best cigar the house could provide. But I +was still feeling nervous. When I saw anybody look at me in the lounge, +I grew shy, and wondered if they were thinking about the murder. + +After that I took a taxi and drove miles away up into North London. I +walked back through fields and lines of villas and terraces and then +slums and mean streets, and it took me pretty nearly two hours. All the +while my restlessness was growing worse. I felt that great things, +tremendous things, were happening or about to happen, and I, who was +the cog-wheel of the whole business, was out of it. Royer would be +landing at Dover, Sir Walter would be making plans with the few people +in England who were in the secret, and somewhere in the darkness the +Black Stone would be working. I felt the sense of danger and impending +calamity, and I had the curious feeling, too, that I alone could avert +it, alone could grapple with it. But I was out of the game now. How +could it be otherwise? It was not likely that Cabinet Ministers and +Admiralty Lords and Generals would admit me to their councils. + +I actually began to wish that I could run up against one of my three +enemies. That would lead to developments. I felt that I wanted +enormously to have a vulgar scrap with those gentry, where I could hit +out and flatten something. I was rapidly getting into a very bad +temper. + +I didn’t feel like going back to my flat. That had to be faced some +time, but as I still had sufficient money I thought I would put it off +till next morning, and go to a hotel for the night. + +My irritation lasted through dinner, which I had at a restaurant in +Jermyn Street. I was no longer hungry, and let several courses pass +untasted. I drank the best part of a bottle of Burgundy, but it did +nothing to cheer me. An abominable restlessness had taken possession of +me. Here was I, a very ordinary fellow, with no particular brains, and +yet I was convinced that somehow I was needed to help this business +through—that without me it would all go to blazes. I told myself it was +sheer silly conceit, that four or five of the cleverest people living, +with all the might of the British Empire at their back, had the job in +hand. Yet I couldn’t be convinced. It seemed as if a voice kept +speaking in my ear, telling me to be up and doing, or I would never +sleep again. + +The upshot was that about half-past nine I made up my mind to go to +Queen Anne’s Gate. Very likely I would not be admitted, but it would +ease my conscience to try. + +I walked down Jermyn Street, and at the corner of Duke Street passed a +group of young men. They were in evening dress, had been dining +somewhere, and were going on to a music-hall. One of them was Mr +Marmaduke Jopley. + +He saw me and stopped short. + +“By God, the murderer!” he cried. “Here, you fellows, hold him! That’s +Hannay, the man who did the Portland Place murder!” He gripped me by +the arm, and the others crowded round. I wasn’t looking for any +trouble, but my ill-temper made me play the fool. A policeman came up, +and I should have told him the truth, and, if he didn’t believe it, +demanded to be taken to Scotland Yard, or for that matter to the +nearest police station. But a delay at that moment seemed to me +unendurable, and the sight of Marmie’s imbecile face was more than I +could bear. I let out with my left, and had the satisfaction of seeing +him measure his length in the gutter. + +Then began an unholy row. They were all on me at once, and the +policeman took me in the rear. I got in one or two good blows, for I +think, with fair play, I could have licked the lot of them, but the +policeman pinned me behind, and one of them got his fingers on my +throat. + +Through a black cloud of rage I heard the officer of the law asking +what was the matter, and Marmie, between his broken teeth, declaring +that I was Hannay the murderer. + +“Oh, damn it all,” I cried, “make the fellow shut up. I advise you to +leave me alone, constable. Scotland Yard knows all about me, and you’ll +get a proper wigging if you interfere with me.” + +“You’ve got to come along of me, young man,” said the policeman. “I saw +you strike that gentleman crool ’ard. You began it too, for he wasn’t +doing nothing. I seen you. Best go quietly or I’ll have to fix you up.” + +Exasperation and an overwhelming sense that at no cost must I delay +gave me the strength of a bull elephant. I fairly wrenched the +constable off his feet, floored the man who was gripping my collar, and +set off at my best pace down Duke Street. I heard a whistle being +blown, and the rush of men behind me. + +I have a very fair turn of speed, and that night I had wings. In a +jiffy I was in Pall Mall and had turned down towards St James’s Park. I +dodged the policeman at the Palace gates, dived through a press of +carriages at the entrance to the Mall, and was making for the bridge +before my pursuers had crossed the roadway. In the open ways of the +Park I put on a spurt. Happily there were few people about and no one +tried to stop me. I was staking all on getting to Queen Anne’s Gate. + +When I entered that quiet thoroughfare it seemed deserted. Sir Walter’s +house was in the narrow part, and outside it three or four motor-cars +were drawn up. I slackened speed some yards off and walked briskly up +to the door. If the butler refused me admission, or if he even delayed +to open the door, I was done. + +He didn’t delay. I had scarcely rung before the door opened. + +“I must see Sir Walter,” I panted. “My business is desperately +important.” + +That butler was a great man. Without moving a muscle he held the door +open, and then shut it behind me. “Sir Walter is engaged, sir, and I +have orders to admit no one. Perhaps you will wait.” + +The house was of the old-fashioned kind, with a wide hall and rooms on +both sides of it. At the far end was an alcove with a telephone and a +couple of chairs, and there the butler offered me a seat. + +“See here,” I whispered. “There’s trouble about and I’m in it. But Sir +Walter knows, and I’m working for him. If anyone comes and asks if I am +here, tell him a lie.” + +He nodded, and presently there was a noise of voices in the street, and +a furious ringing at the bell. I never admired a man more than that +butler. He opened the door, and with a face like a graven image waited +to be questioned. Then he gave them it. He told them whose house it +was, and what his orders were, and simply froze them off the doorstep. +I could see it all from my alcove, and it was better than any play. + + + +I hadn’t waited long till there came another ring at the bell. The +butler made no bones about admitting this new visitor. + +While he was taking off his coat I saw who it was. You couldn’t open a +newspaper or a magazine without seeing that face—the grey beard cut +like a spade, the firm fighting mouth, the blunt square nose, and the +keen blue eyes. I recognized the First Sea Lord, the man, they say, +that made the new British Navy. + +He passed my alcove and was ushered into a room at the back of the +hall. As the door opened I could hear the sound of low voices. It shut, +and I was left alone again. + +For twenty minutes I sat there, wondering what I was to do next. I was +still perfectly convinced that I was wanted, but when or how I had no +notion. I kept looking at my watch, and as the time crept on to +half-past ten I began to think that the conference must soon end. In a +quarter of an hour Royer should be speeding along the road to +Portsmouth.... + +Then I heard a bell ring, and the butler appeared. The door of the back +room opened, and the First Sea Lord came out. He walked past me, and in +passing he glanced in my direction, and for a second we looked each +other in the face. + +Only for a second, but it was enough to make my heart jump. I had never +seen the great man before, and he had never seen me. But in that +fraction of time something sprang into his eyes, and that something was +recognition. You can’t mistake it. It is a flicker, a spark of light, a +minute shade of difference which means one thing and one thing only. It +came involuntarily, for in a moment it died, and he passed on. In a +maze of wild fancies I heard the street door close behind him. + +I picked up the telephone book and looked up the number of his house. +We were connected at once, and I heard a servant’s voice. + +“Is his Lordship at home?” I asked. + +“His Lordship returned half an hour ago,” said the voice, “and has gone +to bed. He is not very well tonight. Will you leave a message, sir?” + +I rang off and almost tumbled into a chair. My part in this business +was not yet ended. It had been a close shave, but I had been in time. + +Not a moment could be lost, so I marched boldly to the door of that +back room and entered without knocking. + +Five surprised faces looked up from a round table. There was Sir +Walter, and Drew the War Minister, whom I knew from his photographs. +There was a slim elderly man, who was probably Whittaker, the Admiralty +official, and there was General Winstanley, conspicuous from the long +scar on his forehead. Lastly, there was a short stout man with an +iron-grey moustache and bushy eyebrows, who had been arrested in the +middle of a sentence. + +Sir Walter’s face showed surprise and annoyance. + +“This is Mr Hannay, of whom I have spoken to you,” he said +apologetically to the company. “I’m afraid, Hannay, this visit is +ill-timed.” + +I was getting back my coolness. “That remains to be seen, sir,” I said; +“but I think it may be in the nick of time. For God’s sake, gentlemen, +tell me who went out a minute ago?” + +“Lord Alloa,” Sir Walter said, reddening with anger. + +“It was not,” I cried; “it was his living image, but it was not Lord +Alloa. It was someone who recognized me, someone I have seen in the +last month. He had scarcely left the doorstep when I rang up Lord +Alloa’s house and was told he had come in half an hour before and had +gone to bed.” + +“Who—who—” someone stammered. + +“The Black Stone,” I cried, and I sat down in the chair so recently +vacated and looked round at five badly scared gentlemen. + + + +Chapter IX + + + The Thirty-Nine Steps + +“Nonsense!” said the official from the Admiralty. + +Sir Walter got up and left the room while we looked blankly at the +table. He came back in ten minutes with a long face. “I have spoken to +Alloa,” he said. “Had him out of bed—very grumpy. He went straight home +after Mulross’s dinner.” + +“But it’s madness,” broke in General Winstanley. “Do you mean to tell +me that that man came here and sat beside me for the best part of half +an hour and that I didn’t detect the imposture? Alloa must be out of +his mind.” + +“Don’t you see the cleverness of it?” I said. “You were too interested +in other things to have any eyes. You took Lord Alloa for granted. If +it had been anybody else you might have looked more closely, but it was +natural for him to be here, and that put you all to sleep.” + +Then the Frenchman spoke, very slowly and in good English. + +“The young man is right. His psychology is good. Our enemies have not +been foolish!” + +He bent his wise brows on the assembly. + +“I will tell you a tale,” he said. “It happened many years ago in +Senegal. I was quartered in a remote station, and to pass the time used +to go fishing for big barbel in the river. A little Arab mare used to +carry my luncheon basket—one of the salted dun breed you got at +Timbuctoo in the old days. Well, one morning I had good sport, and the +mare was unaccountably restless. I could hear her whinnying and +squealing and stamping her feet, and I kept soothing her with my voice +while my mind was intent on fish. I could see her all the time, as I +thought, out of a corner of my eye, tethered to a tree twenty yards +away. After a couple of hours I began to think of food. I collected my +fish in a tarpaulin bag, and moved down the stream towards the mare, +trolling my line. When I got up to her I flung the tarpaulin on her +back—” + +He paused and looked round. + +“It was the smell that gave me warning. I turned my head and found +myself looking at a lion three feet off.... An old man-eater, that was +the terror of the village.... What was left of the mare, a mass of +blood and bones and hide, was behind him.” + +“What happened?” I asked. I was enough of a hunter to know a true yarn +when I heard it. + +“I stuffed my fishing-rod into his jaws, and I had a pistol. Also my +servants came presently with rifles. But he left his mark on me.” He +held up a hand which lacked three fingers. + +“Consider,” he said. “The mare had been dead more than an hour, and the +brute had been patiently watching me ever since. I never saw the kill, +for I was accustomed to the mare’s fretting, and I never marked her +absence, for my consciousness of her was only of something tawny, and +the lion filled that part. If I could blunder thus, gentlemen, in a +land where men’s senses are keen, why should we busy preoccupied urban +folk not err also?” + +Sir Walter nodded. No one was ready to gainsay him. + +“But I don’t see,” went on Winstanley. “Their object was to get these +dispositions without our knowing it. Now it only required one of us to +mention to Alloa our meeting tonight for the whole fraud to be +exposed.” + +Sir Walter laughed dryly. “The selection of Alloa shows their acumen. +Which of us was likely to speak to him about tonight? Or was he likely +to open the subject?” + +I remembered the First Sea Lord’s reputation for taciturnity and +shortness of temper. + +“The one thing that puzzles me,” said the General, “is what good his +visit here would do that spy fellow? He could not carry away several +pages of figures and strange names in his head.” + +“That is not difficult,” the Frenchman replied. “A good spy is trained +to have a photographic memory. Like your own Macaulay. You noticed he +said nothing, but went through these papers again and again. I think we +may assume that he has every detail stamped on his mind. When I was +younger I could do the same trick.” + +“Well, I suppose there is nothing for it but to change the plans,” said +Sir Walter ruefully. + +Whittaker was looking very glum. “Did you tell Lord Alloa what has +happened?” he asked. “No? Well, I can’t speak with absolute assurance, +but I’m nearly certain we can’t make any serious change unless we alter +the geography of England.” + +“Another thing must be said,” it was Royer who spoke. “I talked freely +when that man was here. I told something of the military plans of my +Government. I was permitted to say so much. But that information would +be worth many millions to our enemies. No, my friends, I see no other +way. The man who came here and his confederates must be taken, and +taken at once.” + +“Good God,” I cried, “and we have not a rag of a clue.” + +“Besides,” said Whittaker, “there is the post. By this time the news +will be on its way.” + +“No,” said the Frenchman. “You do not understand the habits of the spy. +He receives personally his reward, and he delivers personally his +intelligence. We in France know something of the breed. There is still +a chance, _mes amis_. These men must cross the sea, and there are ships +to be searched and ports to be watched. Believe me, the need is +desperate for both France and Britain.” + +Royer’s grave good sense seemed to pull us together. He was the man of +action among fumblers. But I saw no hope in any face, and I felt none. +Where among the fifty millions of these islands and within a dozen +hours were we to lay hands on the three cleverest rogues in Europe? + + + +Then suddenly I had an inspiration. + +“Where is Scudder’s book?” I cried to Sir Walter. “Quick, man, I +remember something in it.” + +He unlocked the door of a bureau and gave it to me. + +I found the place. “_Thirty-nine steps_,” I read, and again, +“_Thirty-nine steps—I counted them—High tide_, 10.17 p.m.” + +The Admiralty man was looking at me as if he thought I had gone mad. + +“Don’t you see it’s a clue,” I shouted. “Scudder knew where these +fellows laired—he knew where they were going to leave the country, +though he kept the name to himself. Tomorrow was the day, and it was +some place where high tide was at 10.17.” + +“They may have gone tonight,” someone said. + +“Not they. They have their own snug secret way, and they won’t be +hurried. I know Germans, and they are mad about working to a plan. +Where the devil can I get a book of Tide Tables?” + +Whittaker brightened up. “It’s a chance,” he said. “Let’s go over to +the Admiralty.” + +We got into two of the waiting motor-cars—all but Sir Walter, who went +off to Scotland Yard—to “mobilize MacGillivray”, so he said. + +We marched through empty corridors and big bare chambers where the +charwomen were busy, till we reached a little room lined with books and +maps. A resident clerk was unearthed, who presently fetched from the +library the Admiralty Tide Tables. I sat at the desk and the others +stood round, for somehow or other I had got charge of this expedition. + +It was no good. There were hundreds of entries, and so far as I could +see 10.17 might cover fifty places. We had to find some way of +narrowing the possibilities. + +I took my head in my hands and thought. There must be some way of +reading this riddle. What did Scudder mean by steps? I thought of dock +steps, but if he had meant that I didn’t think he would have mentioned +the number. It must be some place where there were several staircases, +and one marked out from the others by having thirty-nine steps. + +Then I had a sudden thought, and hunted up all the steamer sailings. +There was no boat which left for the Continent at 10.17 p.m. + +Why was high tide so important? If it was a harbour it must be some +little place where the tide mattered, or else it was a heavy-draught +boat. But there was no regular steamer sailing at that hour, and +somehow I didn’t think they would travel by a big boat from a regular +harbour. So it must be some little harbour where the tide was +important, or perhaps no harbour at all. + +But if it was a little port I couldn’t see what the steps signified. +There were no sets of staircases on any harbour that I had ever seen. +It must be some place which a particular staircase identified, and +where the tide was full at 10.17. On the whole it seemed to me that the +place must be a bit of open coast. But the staircases kept puzzling me. + +Then I went back to wider considerations. Whereabouts would a man be +likely to leave for Germany, a man in a hurry, who wanted a speedy and +a secret passage? Not from any of the big harbours. And not from the +Channel or the West Coast or Scotland, for, remember, he was starting +from London. I measured the distance on the map, and tried to put +myself in the enemy’s shoes. I should try for Ostend or Antwerp or +Rotterdam, and I should sail from somewhere on the East Coast between +Cromer and Dover. + +All this was very loose guessing, and I don’t pretend it was ingenious +or scientific. I wasn’t any kind of Sherlock Holmes. But I have always +fancied I had a kind of instinct about questions like this. I don’t +know if I can explain myself, but I used to use my brains as far as +they went, and after they came to a blank wall I guessed, and I usually +found my guesses pretty right. + +So I set out all my conclusions on a bit of Admiralty paper. They ran +like this: + + FAIRLY CERTAIN. + + (1) Place where there are several sets of stairs; one that + matters distinguished by having thirty-nine steps. + (2) Full tide at 10.17 p.m. Leaving shore only possible at full + tide. + (3) Steps not dock steps, and so place probably not harbour. + (4) No regular night steamer at 10.17. Means of transport must be + tramp (unlikely), yacht, or fishing-boat. + + +There my reasoning stopped. I made another list, which I headed +“Guessed”, but I was just as sure of the one as the other. + + GUESSED. + + (1) Place not harbour but open coast. + (2) Boat small—trawler, yacht, or launch. + (3) Place somewhere on East Coast between Cromer and Dover. + + +It struck me as odd that I should be sitting at that desk with a +Cabinet Minister, a Field-Marshal, two high Government officials, and a +French General watching me, while from the scribble of a dead man I was +trying to drag a secret which meant life or death for us. + +Sir Walter had joined us, and presently MacGillivray arrived. He had +sent out instructions to watch the ports and railway stations for the +three men whom I had described to Sir Walter. Not that he or anybody +else thought that that would do much good. + +“Here’s the most I can make of it,” I said. “We have got to find a +place where there are several staircases down to the beach, one of +which has thirty-nine steps. I think it’s a piece of open coast with +biggish cliffs, somewhere between the Wash and the Channel. Also it’s a +place where full tide is at 10.17 tomorrow night.” + +Then an idea struck me. “Is there no Inspector of Coastguards or some +fellow like that who knows the East Coast?” + +Whittaker said there was, and that he lived in Clapham. He went off in +a car to fetch him, and the rest of us sat about the little room and +talked of anything that came into our heads. I lit a pipe and went over +the whole thing again till my brain grew weary. + +About one in the morning the coastguard man arrived. He was a fine old +fellow, with the look of a naval officer, and was desperately +respectful to the company. I left the War Minister to cross-examine +him, for I felt he would think it cheek in me to talk. + +“We want you to tell us the places you know on the East Coast where +there are cliffs, and where several sets of steps run down to the +beach.” + +He thought for a bit. “What kind of steps do you mean, sir? There are +plenty of places with roads cut down through the cliffs, and most roads +have a step or two in them. Or do you mean regular staircases—all +steps, so to speak?” + +Sir Arthur looked towards me. “We mean regular staircases,” I said. + +He reflected a minute or two. “I don’t know that I can think of any. +Wait a second. There’s a place in Norfolk—Brattlesham—beside a +golf-course, where there are a couple of staircases, to let the +gentlemen get a lost ball.” + +“That’s not it,” I said. + +“Then there are plenty of Marine Parades, if that’s what you mean. +Every seaside resort has them.” + +I shook my head. “It’s got to be more retired than that,” I said. + +“Well, gentlemen, I can’t think of anywhere else. Of course, there’s +the Ruff—” + +“What’s that?” I asked. + +“The big chalk headland in Kent, close to Bradgate. It’s got a lot of +villas on the top, and some of the houses have staircases down to a +private beach. It’s a very high-toned sort of place, and the residents +there like to keep by themselves.” + +I tore open the Tide Tables and found Bradgate. High tide there was at +10.27 p.m. on the 15th of June. + +“We’re on the scent at last,” I cried excitedly. “How can I find out +what is the tide at the Ruff?” + +“I can tell you that, sir,” said the coastguard man. “I once was lent a +house there in this very month, and I used to go out at night to the +deep-sea fishing. The tide’s ten minutes before Bradgate.” + +I closed the book and looked round at the company. + +“If one of those staircases has thirty-nine steps we have solved the +mystery, gentlemen,” I said. “I want the loan of your car, Sir Walter, +and a map of the roads. If Mr MacGillivray will spare me ten minutes, I +think we can prepare something for tomorrow.” + +It was ridiculous in me to take charge of the business like this, but +they didn’t seem to mind, and after all I had been in the show from the +start. Besides, I was used to rough jobs, and these eminent gentlemen +were too clever not to see it. It was General Royer who gave me my +commission. “I for one,” he said, “am content to leave the matter in Mr +Hannay’s hands.” + +By half-past three I was tearing past the moonlit hedgerows of Kent, +with MacGillivray’s best man on the seat beside me. + + + +Chapter X + + + Various Parties Converging on the Sea + +A pink and blue June morning found me at Bradgate looking from the +Griffin Hotel over a smooth sea to the lightship on the Cock sands +which seemed the size of a bell-buoy. A couple of miles farther south +and much nearer the shore a small destroyer was anchored. Scaife, +MacGillivray’s man, who had been in the Navy, knew the boat, and told +me her name and her commander’s, so I sent off a wire to Sir Walter. + +After breakfast Scaife got from a house-agent a key for the gates of +the staircases on the Ruff. I walked with him along the sands, and sat +down in a nook of the cliffs while he investigated the half-dozen of +them. I didn’t want to be seen, but the place at this hour was quite +deserted, and all the time I was on that beach I saw nothing but the +seagulls. + +It took him more than an hour to do the job, and when I saw him coming +towards me, conning a bit of paper, I can tell you my heart was in my +mouth. Everything depended, you see, on my guess proving right. + +He read aloud the number of steps in the different stairs. +“Thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-nine, forty-two, forty-seven,” and +“twenty-one’ where the cliffs grew lower. I almost got up and shouted. + +We hurried back to the town and sent a wire to MacGillivray. I wanted +half a dozen men, and I directed them to divide themselves among +different specified hotels. Then Scaife set out to prospect the house +at the head of the thirty-nine steps. + +He came back with news that both puzzled and reassured me. The house +was called Trafalgar Lodge, and belonged to an old gentleman called +Appleton—a retired stockbroker, the house-agent said. Mr Appleton was +there a good deal in the summer time, and was in residence now—had been +for the better part of a week. Scaife could pick up very little +information about him, except that he was a decent old fellow, who paid +his bills regularly, and was always good for a fiver for a local +charity. Then Scaife seemed to have penetrated to the back door of the +house, pretending he was an agent for sewing-machines. Only three +servants were kept, a cook, a parlour-maid, and a housemaid, and they +were just the sort that you would find in a respectable middle-class +household. The cook was not the gossiping kind, and had pretty soon +shut the door in his face, but Scaife said he was positive she knew +nothing. Next door there was a new house building which would give good +cover for observation, and the villa on the other side was to let, and +its garden was rough and shrubby. + +I borrowed Scaife’s telescope, and before lunch went for a walk along +the Ruff. I kept well behind the rows of villas, and found a good +observation point on the edge of the golf-course. There I had a view of +the line of turf along the cliff top, with seats placed at intervals, +and the little square plots, railed in and planted with bushes, whence +the staircases descended to the beach. I saw Trafalgar Lodge very +plainly, a red-brick villa with a veranda, a tennis lawn behind, and in +front the ordinary seaside flower-garden full of marguerites and +scraggy geraniums. There was a flagstaff from which an enormous Union +Jack hung limply in the still air. + +Presently I observed someone leave the house and saunter along the +cliff. When I got my glasses on him I saw it was an old man, wearing +white flannel trousers, a blue serge jacket, and a straw hat. He +carried field-glasses and a newspaper, and sat down on one of the iron +seats and began to read. Sometimes he would lay down the paper and turn +his glasses on the sea. He looked for a long time at the destroyer. I +watched him for half an hour, till he got up and went back to the house +for his luncheon, when I returned to the hotel for mine. + +I wasn’t feeling very confident. This decent common-place dwelling was +not what I had expected. The man might be the bald archaeologist of +that horrible moorland farm, or he might not. He was exactly the kind +of satisfied old bird you will find in every suburb and every holiday +place. If you wanted a type of the perfectly harmless person you would +probably pitch on that. + +But after lunch, as I sat in the hotel porch, I perked up, for I saw +the thing I had hoped for and had dreaded to miss. A yacht came up from +the south and dropped anchor pretty well opposite the Ruff. She seemed +about a hundred and fifty tons, and I saw she belonged to the Squadron +from the white ensign. So Scaife and I went down to the harbour and +hired a boatman for an afternoon’s fishing. + +I spent a warm and peaceful afternoon. We caught between us about +twenty pounds of cod and lythe, and out in that dancing blue sea I took +a cheerier view of things. Above the white cliffs of the Ruff I saw the +green and red of the villas, and especially the great flagstaff of +Trafalgar Lodge. About four o’clock, when we had fished enough, I made +the boatman row us round the yacht, which lay like a delicate white +bird, ready at a moment to flee. Scaife said she must be a fast boat +for her build, and that she was pretty heavily engined. + +Her name was the _Ariadne_, as I discovered from the cap of one of the +men who was polishing brasswork. I spoke to him, and got an answer in +the soft dialect of Essex. Another hand that came along passed me the +time of day in an unmistakable English tongue. Our boatman had an +argument with one of them about the weather, and for a few minutes we +lay on our oars close to the starboard bow. + +Then the men suddenly disregarded us and bent their heads to their work +as an officer came along the deck. He was a pleasant, clean-looking +young fellow, and he put a question to us about our fishing in very +good English. But there could be no doubt about him. His close-cropped +head and the cut of his collar and tie never came out of England. + +That did something to reassure me, but as we rowed back to Bradgate my +obstinate doubts would not be dismissed. The thing that worried me was +the reflection that my enemies knew that I had got my knowledge from +Scudder, and it was Scudder who had given me the clue to this place. If +they knew that Scudder had this clue, would they not be certain to +change their plans? Too much depended on their success for them to take +any risks. The whole question was how much they understood about +Scudder’s knowledge. I had talked confidently last night about Germans +always sticking to a scheme, but if they had any suspicions that I was +on their track they would be fools not to cover it. I wondered if the +man last night had seen that I recognized him. Somehow I did not think +he had, and to that I had clung. But the whole business had never +seemed so difficult as that afternoon when by all calculations I should +have been rejoicing in assured success. + +In the hotel I met the commander of the destroyer, to whom Scaife +introduced me, and with whom I had a few words. Then I thought I would +put in an hour or two watching Trafalgar Lodge. + +I found a place farther up the hill, in the garden of an empty house. +From there I had a full view of the court, on which two figures were +having a game of tennis. One was the old man, whom I had already seen; +the other was a younger fellow, wearing some club colours in the scarf +round his middle. They played with tremendous zest, like two city gents +who wanted hard exercise to open their pores. You couldn’t conceive a +more innocent spectacle. They shouted and laughed and stopped for +drinks, when a maid brought out two tankards on a salver. I rubbed my +eyes and asked myself if I was not the most immortal fool on earth. +Mystery and darkness had hung about the men who hunted me over the +Scotch moor in aeroplane and motor-car, and notably about that infernal +antiquarian. It was easy enough to connect those folk with the knife +that pinned Scudder to the floor, and with fell designs on the world’s +peace. But here were two guileless citizens taking their innocuous +exercise, and soon about to go indoors to a humdrum dinner, where they +would talk of market prices and the last cricket scores and the gossip +of their native Surbiton. I had been making a net to catch vultures and +falcons, and lo and behold! two plump thrushes had blundered into it. + +Presently a third figure arrived, a young man on a bicycle, with a bag +of golf-clubs slung on his back. He strolled round to the tennis lawn +and was welcomed riotously by the players. Evidently they were chaffing +him, and their chaff sounded horribly English. Then the plump man, +mopping his brow with a silk handkerchief, announced that he must have +a tub. I heard his very words—“I’ve got into a proper lather,” he said. +“This will bring down my weight and my handicap, Bob. I’ll take you on +tomorrow and give you a stroke a hole.” You couldn’t find anything much +more English than that. + +They all went into the house, and left me feeling a precious idiot. I +had been barking up the wrong tree this time. These men might be +acting; but if they were, where was their audience? They didn’t know I +was sitting thirty yards off in a rhododendron. It was simply +impossible to believe that these three hearty fellows were anything but +what they seemed—three ordinary, game-playing, suburban Englishmen, +wearisome, if you like, but sordidly innocent. + + + +And yet there were three of them; and one was old, and one was plump, +and one was lean and dark; and their house chimed in with Scudder’s +notes; and half a mile off was lying a steam yacht with at least one +German officer. I thought of Karolides lying dead and all Europe +trembling on the edge of earthquake, and the men I had left behind me +in London who were waiting anxiously for the events of the next hours. +There was no doubt that hell was afoot somewhere. The Black Stone had +won, and if it survived this June night would bank its winnings. + +There seemed only one thing to do—go forward as if I had no doubts, and +if I was going to make a fool of myself to do it handsomely. Never in +my life have I faced a job with greater disinclination. I would rather +in my then mind have walked into a den of anarchists, each with his +Browning handy, or faced a charging lion with a popgun, than enter that +happy home of three cheerful Englishmen and tell them that their game +was up. How they would laugh at me! + +But suddenly I remembered a thing I once heard in Rhodesia from old +Peter Pienaar. I have quoted Peter already in this narrative. He was +the best scout I ever knew, and before he had turned respectable he had +been pretty often on the windy side of the law, when he had been wanted +badly by the authorities. Peter once discussed with me the question of +disguises, and he had a theory which struck me at the time. He said, +barring absolute certainties like fingerprints, mere physical traits +were very little use for identification if the fugitive really knew his +business. He laughed at things like dyed hair and false beards and such +childish follies. The only thing that mattered was what Peter called +“atmosphere”. + +If a man could get into perfectly different surroundings from those in +which he had been first observed, and—this is the important part—really +play up to these surroundings and behave as if he had never been out of +them, he would puzzle the cleverest detectives on earth. And he used to +tell a story of how he once borrowed a black coat and went to church +and shared the same hymn-book with the man that was looking for him. If +that man had seen him in decent company before he would have recognized +him; but he had only seen him snuffing the lights in a public-house +with a revolver. + +The recollection of Peter’s talk gave me the first real comfort that I +had had that day. Peter had been a wise old bird, and these fellows I +was after were about the pick of the aviary. What if they were playing +Peter’s game? A fool tries to look different: a clever man looks the +same and is different. + +Again, there was that other maxim of Peter’s which had helped me when I +had been a roadman. “If you are playing a part, you will never keep it +up unless you convince yourself that you are _it_.” That would explain +the game of tennis. Those chaps didn’t need to act, they just turned a +handle and passed into another life, which came as naturally to them as +the first. It sounds a platitude, but Peter used to say that it was the +big secret of all the famous criminals. + +It was now getting on for eight o’clock, and I went back and saw Scaife +to give him his instructions. I arranged with him how to place his men, +and then I went for a walk, for I didn’t feel up to any dinner. I went +round the deserted golf-course, and then to a point on the cliffs +farther north beyond the line of the villas. + +On the little trim newly-made roads I met people in flannels coming +back from tennis and the beach, and a coastguard from the wireless +station, and donkeys and pierrots padding homewards. Out at sea in the +blue dusk I saw lights appear on the _Ariadne_ and on the destroyer +away to the south, and beyond the Cock sands the bigger lights of +steamers making for the Thames. The whole scene was so peaceful and +ordinary that I got more dashed in spirits every second. It took all my +resolution to stroll towards Trafalgar Lodge about half-past nine. + +On the way I got a piece of solid comfort from the sight of a greyhound +that was swinging along at a nursemaid’s heels. He reminded me of a dog +I used to have in Rhodesia, and of the time when I took him hunting +with me in the Pali hills. We were after rhebok, the dun kind, and I +recollected how we had followed one beast, and both he and I had clean +lost it. A greyhound works by sight, and my eyes are good enough, but +that buck simply leaked out of the landscape. Afterwards I found out +how it managed it. Against the grey rock of the kopjes it showed no +more than a crow against a thundercloud. It didn’t need to run away; +all it had to do was to stand still and melt into the background. + +Suddenly as these memories chased across my brain I thought of my +present case and applied the moral. The Black Stone didn’t need to +bolt. They were quietly absorbed into the landscape. I was on the right +track, and I jammed that down in my mind and vowed never to forget it. +The last word was with Peter Pienaar. + +Scaife’s men would be posted now, but there was no sign of a soul. The +house stood as open as a market-place for anybody to observe. A +three-foot railing separated it from the cliff road; the windows on the +ground-floor were all open, and shaded lights and the low sound of +voices revealed where the occupants were finishing dinner. Everything +was as public and above-board as a charity bazaar. Feeling the greatest +fool on earth, I opened the gate and rang the bell. + + + +A man of my sort, who has travelled about the world in rough places, +gets on perfectly well with two classes, what you may call the upper +and the lower. He understands them and they understand him. I was at +home with herds and tramps and roadmen, and I was sufficiently at my +ease with people like Sir Walter and the men I had met the night +before. I can’t explain why, but it is a fact. But what fellows like me +don’t understand is the great comfortable, satisfied middle-class +world, the folk that live in villas and suburbs. He doesn’t know how +they look at things, he doesn’t understand their conventions, and he is +as shy of them as of a black mamba. When a trim parlour-maid opened the +door, I could hardly find my voice. + +I asked for Mr Appleton, and was ushered in. My plan had been to walk +straight into the dining-room, and by a sudden appearance wake in the +men that start of recognition which would confirm my theory. But when I +found myself in that neat hall the place mastered me. There were the +golf-clubs and tennis-rackets, the straw hats and caps, the rows of +gloves, the sheaf of walking-sticks, which you will find in ten +thousand British homes. A stack of neatly folded coats and waterproofs +covered the top of an old oak chest; there was a grandfather clock +ticking; and some polished brass warming-pans on the walls, and a +barometer, and a print of Chiltern winning the St Leger. The place was +as orthodox as an Anglican church. When the maid asked me for my name I +gave it automatically, and was shown into the smoking-room, on the +right side of the hall. + +That room was even worse. I hadn’t time to examine it, but I could see +some framed group photographs above the mantelpiece, and I could have +sworn they were English public school or college. I had only one +glance, for I managed to pull myself together and go after the maid. +But I was too late. She had already entered the dining-room and given +my name to her master, and I had missed the chance of seeing how the +three took it. + +When I walked into the room the old man at the head of the table had +risen and turned round to meet me. He was in evening dress—a short coat +and black tie, as was the other, whom I called in my own mind the plump +one. The third, the dark fellow, wore a blue serge suit and a soft +white collar, and the colours of some club or school. + +The old man’s manner was perfect. “Mr Hannay?” he said hesitatingly. +“Did you wish to see me? One moment, you fellows, and I’ll rejoin you. +We had better go to the smoking-room.” + +Though I hadn’t an ounce of confidence in me, I forced myself to play +the game. I pulled up a chair and sat down on it. + +“I think we have met before,” I said, “and I guess you know my +business.” + +The light in the room was dim, but so far as I could see their faces, +they played the part of mystification very well. + +“Maybe, maybe,” said the old man. “I haven’t a very good memory, but +I’m afraid you must tell me your errand, sir, for I really don’t know +it.” + +“Well, then,” I said, and all the time I seemed to myself to be talking +pure foolishness—“I have come to tell you that the game’s up. I have a +warrant for the arrest of you three gentlemen.” + +“Arrest,” said the old man, and he looked really shocked. “Arrest! Good +God, what for?” + +“For the murder of Franklin Scudder in London on the 23rd day of last +month.” + +“I never heard the name before,” said the old man in a dazed voice. + +One of the others spoke up. “That was the Portland Place murder. I read +about it. Good heavens, you must be mad, sir! Where do you come from?” + +“Scotland Yard,” I said. + +After that for a minute there was utter silence. The old man was +staring at his plate and fumbling with a nut, the very model of +innocent bewilderment. + +Then the plump one spoke up. He stammered a little, like a man picking +his words. + +“Don’t get flustered, uncle,” he said. “It is all a ridiculous mistake; +but these things happen sometimes, and we can easily set it right. It +won’t be hard to prove our innocence. I can show that I was out of the +country on the 23rd of May, and Bob was in a nursing home. You were in +London, but you can explain what you were doing.” + +“Right, Percy! Of course that’s easy enough. The 23rd! That was the day +after Agatha’s wedding. Let me see. What was I doing? I came up in the +morning from Woking, and lunched at the club with Charlie Symons. +Then—oh yes, I dined with the Fishmongers. I remember, for the punch +didn’t agree with me, and I was seedy next morning. Hang it all, +there’s the cigar-box I brought back from the dinner.” He pointed to an +object on the table, and laughed nervously. + +“I think, sir,” said the young man, addressing me respectfully, “you +will see you are mistaken. We want to assist the law like all +Englishmen, and we don’t want Scotland Yard to be making fools of +themselves. That’s so, uncle?” + +“Certainly, Bob.” The old fellow seemed to be recovering his voice. +“Certainly, we’ll do anything in our power to assist the authorities. +But—but this is a bit too much. I can’t get over it.” + +“How Nellie will chuckle,” said the plump man. “She always said that +you would die of boredom because nothing ever happened to you. And now +you’ve got it thick and strong,” and he began to laugh very pleasantly. + +“By Jove, yes. Just think of it! What a story to tell at the club. +Really, Mr Hannay, I suppose I should be angry, to show my innocence, +but it’s too funny! I almost forgive you the fright you gave me! You +looked so glum, I thought I might have been walking in my sleep and +killing people.” + +It couldn’t be acting, it was too confoundedly genuine. My heart went +into my boots, and my first impulse was to apologize and clear out. But +I told myself I must see it through, even though I was to be the +laughing-stock of Britain. The light from the dinner-table candlesticks +was not very good, and to cover my confusion I got up, walked to the +door and switched on the electric light. The sudden glare made them +blink, and I stood scanning the three faces. + +Well, I made nothing of it. One was old and bald, one was stout, one +was dark and thin. There was nothing in their appearance to prevent +them being the three who had hunted me in Scotland, but there was +nothing to identify them. I simply can’t explain why I who, as a +roadman, had looked into two pairs of eyes, and as Ned Ainslie into +another pair, why I, who have a good memory and reasonable powers of +observation, could find no satisfaction. They seemed exactly what they +professed to be, and I could not have sworn to one of them. + +There in that pleasant dining-room, with etchings on the walls, and a +picture of an old lady in a bib above the mantelpiece, I could see +nothing to connect them with the moorland desperadoes. There was a +silver cigarette-box beside me, and I saw that it had been won by +Percival Appleton, Esq., of the St Bede’s Club, in a golf tournament. I +had to keep a firm hold of Peter Pienaar to prevent myself bolting out +of that house. + +“Well,” said the old man politely, “are you reassured by your scrutiny, +sir?” + +I couldn’t find a word. + +“I hope you’ll find it consistent with your duty to drop this +ridiculous business. I make no complaint, but you’ll see how annoying +it must be to respectable people.” + +I shook my head. + +“O Lord,” said the young man. “This is a bit too thick!” + +“Do you propose to march us off to the police station?” asked the plump +one. “That might be the best way out of it, but I suppose you won’t be +content with the local branch. I have the right to ask to see your +warrant, but I don’t wish to cast any aspersions upon you. You are only +doing your duty. But you’ll admit it’s horribly awkward. What do you +propose to do?” + +There was nothing to do except to call in my men and have them +arrested, or to confess my blunder and clear out. I felt mesmerized by +the whole place, by the air of obvious innocence—not innocence merely, +but frank honest bewilderment and concern in the three faces. + +“Oh, Peter Pienaar,” I groaned inwardly, and for a moment I was very +near damning myself for a fool and asking their pardon. + +“Meantime I vote we have a game of bridge,” said the plump one. “It +will give Mr Hannay time to think over things, and you know we have +been wanting a fourth player. Do you play, sir?” + +I accepted as if it had been an ordinary invitation at the club. The +whole business had mesmerized me. We went into the smoking-room where a +card-table was set out, and I was offered things to smoke and drink. I +took my place at the table in a kind of dream. The window was open and +the moon was flooding the cliffs and sea with a great tide of yellow +light. There was moonshine, too, in my head. The three had recovered +their composure, and were talking easily—just the kind of slangy talk +you will hear in any golf club-house. I must have cut a rum figure, +sitting there knitting my brows with my eyes wandering. + +My partner was the young dark one. I play a fair hand at bridge, but I +must have been rank bad that night. They saw that they had got me +puzzled, and that put them more than ever at their ease. I kept looking +at their faces, but they conveyed nothing to me. It was not that they +looked different; they _were_ different. I clung desperately to the +words of Peter Pienaar. + + + +Then something awoke me. + +The old man laid down his hand to light a cigar. He didn’t pick it up +at once, but sat back for a moment in his chair, with his fingers +tapping on his knees. + +It was the movement I remembered when I had stood before him in the +moorland farm, with the pistols of his servants behind me. + +A little thing, lasting only a second, and the odds were a thousand to +one that I might have had my eyes on my cards at the time and missed +it. But I didn’t, and, in a flash, the air seemed to clear. Some shadow +lifted from my brain, and I was looking at the three men with full and +absolute recognition. + +The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten o’clock. + +The three faces seemed to change before my eyes and reveal their +secrets. The young one was the murderer. Now I saw cruelty and +ruthlessness, where before I had only seen good-humour. His knife, I +made certain, had skewered Scudder to the floor. His kind had put the +bullet in Karolides. + +The plump man’s features seemed to dislimn, and form again, as I looked +at them. He hadn’t a face, only a hundred masks that he could assume +when he pleased. That chap must have been a superb actor. Perhaps he +had been Lord Alloa of the night before; perhaps not; it didn’t matter. +I wondered if he was the fellow who had first tracked Scudder, and left +his card on him. Scudder had said he lisped, and I could imagine how +the adoption of a lisp might add terror. + +But the old man was the pick of the lot. He was sheer brain, icy, cool, +calculating, as ruthless as a steam hammer. Now that my eyes were +opened I wondered where I had seen the benevolence. His jaw was like +chilled steel, and his eyes had the inhuman luminosity of a bird’s. I +went on playing, and every second a greater hate welled up in my heart. +It almost choked me, and I couldn’t answer when my partner spoke. Only +a little longer could I endure their company. + +“Whew! Bob! Look at the time,” said the old man. “You’d better think +about catching your train. Bob’s got to go to town tonight,” he added, +turning to me. The voice rang now as false as hell. I looked at the +clock, and it was nearly half-past ten. + +“I am afraid he must put off his journey,” I said. + +“Oh, damn,” said the young man. “I thought you had dropped that rot. +I’ve simply got to go. You can have my address, and I’ll give any +security you like.” + +“No,” I said, “you must stay.” + +At that I think they must have realized that the game was desperate. +Their only chance had been to convince me that I was playing the fool, +and that had failed. But the old man spoke again. + +“I’ll go bail for my nephew. That ought to content you, Mr Hannay.” Was +it fancy, or did I detect some halt in the smoothness of that voice? + +There must have been, for as I glanced at him, his eyelids fell in that +hawk-like hood which fear had stamped on my memory. + +I blew my whistle. + +In an instant the lights were out. A pair of strong arms gripped me +round the waist, covering the pockets in which a man might be expected +to carry a pistol. + +“_Schnell, Franz,_’ cried a voice, “_das Boot, das Boot!_” As it spoke +I saw two of my fellows emerge on the moonlit lawn. + +The young dark man leapt for the window, was through it, and over the +low fence before a hand could touch him. I grappled the old chap, and +the room seemed to fill with figures. I saw the plump one collared, but +my eyes were all for the out-of-doors, where Franz sped on over the +road towards the railed entrance to the beach stairs. One man followed +him, but he had no chance. The gate of the stairs locked behind the +fugitive, and I stood staring, with my hands on the old boy’s throat, +for such a time as a man might take to descend those steps to the sea. + +Suddenly my prisoner broke from me and flung himself on the wall. There +was a click as if a lever had been pulled. Then came a low rumbling +far, far below the ground, and through the window I saw a cloud of +chalky dust pouring out of the shaft of the stairway. + +Someone switched on the light. + +The old man was looking at me with blazing eyes. + +“He is safe,” he cried. “You cannot follow in time.... He is gone.... +He has triumphed.... _Der Schwarze Stein ist in der Siegeskrone._” + +There was more in those eyes than any common triumph. They had been +hooded like a bird of prey, and now they flamed with a hawk’s pride. A +white fanatic heat burned in them, and I realized for the first time +the terrible thing I had been up against. This man was more than a spy; +in his foul way he had been a patriot. + +As the handcuffs clinked on his wrists I said my last word to him. + +“I hope Franz will bear his triumph well. I ought to tell you that the +_Ariadne_ for the last hour has been in our hands.” + + +Seven weeks later, as all the world knows, we went to war. I joined the +New Army the first week, and owing to my Matabele experience got a +captain’s commission straight off. But I had done my best service, I +think, before I put on khaki. + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Thirty-nine Steps, by John Buchan + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE THIRTY-NINE STEPS *** + +***** This file should be named 558-0.txt or 558--0.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + http://www.gutenberg.org/5/5/558/ + +Produced by Jo Churcher. HTML version by Al Haines. +Corrections by Menno de Leeuw. + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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