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diff --git a/old/56036-h/56036-h.htm b/old/56036-h/56036-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index fda58b2..0000000 --- a/old/56036-h/56036-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,13327 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.1//EN" - "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml11/DTD/xhtml11.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en"> - -<head> - -<link rel="coverpage" href="images/img-cover.jpg" /> - -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1" /> - -<title> -The Project Gutenberg E-text of Inside the Lines, by Earl Derr Biggers -</title> - -<style type="text/css"> -body { color: black; - background: white; - margin-right: 10%; - margin-left: 10%; - font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; - text-align: justify } - -p {text-indent: 4% } - -p.noindent {text-indent: 0% } - -p.t1 {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 200%; - text-align: center } - -p.t2 {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 150%; - text-align: center } - -p.t2b {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 150%; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center } - -p.t3 {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 100%; - text-align: center } - -p.t3b {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 100%; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center } - -p.t4 {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 80%; - text-align: center } - -p.t4b {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 80%; - font-weight: bold; - text-align: center } - -p.t5 {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 60%; - text-align: center } - -h1 { text-align: center } -h2 { text-align: center } -h3 { text-align: center } -h4 { text-align: center } -h5 { text-align: center } - -p.poem {text-indent: 0%; - margin-left: 10%; } - -p.thought {text-indent: 0% ; - letter-spacing: 4em ; - text-align: center } - -p.letter {text-indent: 0%; - margin-left: 10% ; - margin-right: 10% } - -p.footnote {text-indent: 0% ; - font-size: 80%; - margin-left: 10% ; - margin-right: 10% } - -.smcap { font-variant: small-caps } - -p.transnote {text-indent: 0% ; - margin-left: 10% ; - margin-right: 10% } - -p.intro {font-size: 90% ; - text-indent: -5% ; - margin-left: 5% ; - margin-right: 0% } - -p.quote {text-indent: 4% ; - margin-left: 0% ; - margin-right: 0% } - -p.finis { font-size: larger ; - text-align: center ; - text-indent: 0% ; - margin-left: 0% ; - margin-right: 0% } - -p.capcenter { margin-left: 0; - margin-right: 0 ; - margin-bottom: .5% ; - margin-top: 0; - font-weight: bold; - float: none ; - clear: both ; - text-indent: 0%; - text-align: center } - -img.imgcenter { margin-left: auto; - margin-bottom: 0; - margin-top: 1%; - margin-right: auto; } - -</style> - -</head> - -<body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Inside the Lines, by -Earl Derr Biggers and Robert Welles Ritchie - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world 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.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: Inside the Lines - -Author: Earl Derr Biggers - Robert Welles Ritchie - -Release Date: November 23, 2017 [EBook #56036] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INSIDE THE LINES *** - - - - -Produced by Al Haines - - - - - -</pre> - - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-front"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-front.jpg" alt="'You must accept my word.'" /> -<br /> -"You must accept my word." -</p> - -<h1> -<br /><br /> - INSIDE THE LINES<br /> -</h1> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - <i>By</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - EARL DERR BIGGERS<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t3b"> - AND<br /> -</p> - -<p class="t2"> - ROBERT WELLES RITCHIE<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - <i>Founded on Earl Derr Biggers'<br /> - Play of the Same Name</i><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> - INDIANAPOLIS<br /> - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY<br /> - PUBLISHERS<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - COPYRIGHT 1915<br /> - THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t4"> - PRESS OF<br /> - BRAUNWORTH & CO.<br /> - BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS<br /> - BROOKLYN. N. Y.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3b"> - CONTENTS<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - CHAPTER<br /> -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - I <a href="#chap01">Jane Gerson, Buyer</a><br /> - II <a href="#chap02">From the Wilhelmstrasse</a><br /> - III <a href="#chap03">Billy Capper at Play</a><br /> - IV <a href="#chap04">32 Queen's Terrace</a><br /> - V <a href="#chap05">A Ferret</a><br /> - VI <a href="#chap06">A Fugitive</a><br /> - VII <a href="#chap07">The Hotel Splendide</a><br /> - VIII <a href="#chap08">Chaff of War</a><br /> - IX <a href="#chap09">Room D</a><br />s - X <a href="#chap10">A Visit to a Lady</a><br /> - XI <a href="#chap11">A Spy in the Signal Tower</a><br /> - XII <a href="#chap12">Her Country's Example</a><br /> - XIII <a href="#chap13">Enter, a Cigarette</a><br /> - XIV <a href="#chap14">The Captain Comes to Tea</a><br /> - XV <a href="#chap15">The Third Degree</a><br /> - XVI <a href="#chap16">The Pendulum of Fate</a><br /> - XVII <a href="#chap17">Three-Thirty A. M.</a><br /> - XVIII <a href="#chap18">The Trap Is Sprung</a><br /> - XIX <a href="#chap19">At the Quay</a><br /> -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap01"></a></p> - -<h2> -INSIDE THE LINES -</h2> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER I -<br /> -JANE GERSON, BUYER -</h3> - -<p> -"I had two trunks—two, you ninny! Two! -<i>Ou est l'autre?</i>" -</p> - -<p> -The grinning customs guard lifted his -shoulders to his ears and spread out his palms. -"<i>Mais, mamselle——</i>" -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you '<i>mais</i>' me, sir! I had two trunks—<i>deux -troncs</i>—when I got aboard that wabbly -old boat at Dover this morning, and I'm not -going to budge from this wharf until I find -the other one. Where <i>did</i> you learn your -French, anyway? Can't you understand when -I speak your language?" -</p> - -<p> -The girl plumped herself down on top of -the unhasped trunk and folded her arms -truculently. With a quizzical smile, the customs -guard looked down into her brown eyes, -smoldering dangerously now, and began all over -again his speech of explanation. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Wagon-lit?</i>" She caught a familiar word. -"<i>Mais oui</i>; that's where I want to go—aboard -your wagon-lit, for Paris. <i>Voilà!</i>"—the girl -carefully gave the word three syllables—"<i>mon -ticket pour Paree!</i>" She opened her -patent-leather reticule, rummaged furiously therein, -brought out a handkerchief, a tiny mirror, a -packet of rice papers, and at last a folded and -punched ticket. This she displayed with a -triumphant flourish. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Voilà! Il dit</i> 'Miss Jane Gerson'; that's -me—<i>moi-meme</i>, I mean. And <i>il dit 'deux troncs'</i>; -now you can't go behind that, can you? Where -is that other trunk?" -</p> - -<p> -A whistle shrilled back beyond the swinging -doors of the station. Folk in the customs shed -began a hasty gathering together of parcels -and shawl straps, and a general exodus toward -the train sheds commenced. The girl on the -trunk looked appealingly about her; nothing -but bustle and confusion; no Samaritan to turn -aside and rescue a fair traveler fallen among -customs guards. Her eyes filled with trouble, -and for an instant her reliant mouth broke its -line of determination; the lower lip quivered -suspiciously. Even the guard started to walk -away. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, oh, please don't go!" Jane Gerson was -on her feet, and her hands shot out in an -impulsive appeal. "Oh, dear; maybe I forgot to -tip you. Here, <i>attende au secours</i>, if you'll only -find that other trunk before the train——" -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon; but if I may be of any assistance——" -</p> - -<p> -Miss Gerson turned. A tallish, old-young-looking -man, in a gray lounge suit, stood heels -together and bent stiffly in a bow. Nothing of -the beau or the boulevardier about his face or -manner. Miss Gerson accepted his intervention -as heaven-sent. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, thank you ever so much! The guard, -you see, doesn't understand good French. I -just can't make him understand that one of -my trunks is missing. And the train for -Paris——" -</p> - -<p> -Already the stranger was rattling incisive -French at the guard. That official bowed low, -and, with hands and lips, gave rapid explanation. -The man in the gray lounge suit turned -to the girl. -</p> - -<p> -"A little misunderstanding, Miss—ah——" -</p> - -<p> -"Gerson—Jane Gerson, of New York," she -promptly supplied. -</p> - -<p> -"A little misunderstanding, Miss Gerson. -The customs guard says your other trunk has -already been examined, passed, and placed on -the baggage van. He was trying to tell you -that it would be necessary for you to permit -a porter to take this trunk to the train before -time for starting. With your permission——" -</p> - -<p> -The stranger turned and halloed to a porter, -who came running. Miss Gerson had the -trunk locked and strapped in no time, and it -was on the shoulders of the porter. -</p> - -<p> -"You have very little time, Miss Gerson. -The train will be making a start directly. If -I might—ah—pilot you through the station to -the proper train shed. I am not presuming?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are very kind," she answered hurriedly. -</p> - -<p> -They set off, the providential Samaritan in -the lead. Through the waiting-room and on to -a broad platform, almost deserted, they went. -A guard's whistle shrilled. The stranger -tucked a helping hand under Jane Gerson's -arm to steady her in the sharp sprint down a -long aisle between tracks to where the Paris -train stood. It began to move before they had -reached its mid-length. A guard threw open -a carriage door, in they hopped, and with a -rattle of chains and banging of buffers the -Express du Nord was off on its arrow flight -from Calais to the capital. -</p> - -<p> -The carriage, which was of the second class, -was comfortably filled. Miss Gerson stumbled -over the feet of a puffy Fleming nearest the -door, was launched into the lap of a comfortably -upholstered widow on the opposite seat, -ricochetted back to jam an elbow into a French -gentleman's spread newspaper, and finally was -catapulted into a vacant space next to the -window on the carriage's far side. She giggled, -tucked the skirts of her pearl-gray duster -about her, righted the chic sailor hat on her -chestnut-brown head, and patted a stray wisp -of hair back into place. Her meteor flight into -and through the carriage disturbed her not a -whit. -</p> - -<p> -As for the Samaritan, he stood uncertainly -in the narrow cross aisle, swaying to the -swing of the carriage and reconnoitering -seating possibilities. There was a place, a very -narrow one, next to the fat Fleming; also -there was a vacant place next to Jane Gerson. -The Samaritan caught the girl's glance in his -indecision, read in it something frankly -comradely, and chose the seat beside her. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good of you, I'm sure," he murmured. -"I did not wish to presume——" -</p> - -<p> -"You're not," the girl assured, and there was -something so fresh, so ingenuous, in the tone -and the level glance of her brown eyes that -the Samaritan felt all at once distinctly -satisfied with the cast of fortune that had thrown -him in the way of a distressed traveler. He -sat down with a lifting of the checkered Alpine -hat he wore and a stiff little bow from the -waist. -</p> - -<p> -"If I may, Miss Gerson—I am Captain -Woodhouse, of the signal service." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" The girl let slip a little gasp—the -meed of admiration the feminine heart always -pays to shoulder straps. "Signal service; that -means the army?" -</p> - -<p> -"His majesty's service; yes, Miss Gerson." -</p> - -<p> -"You are, of course, off duty?" she suggested, -with the faintest possible tinge of regret -at the absence of the stripes and buttons that -spell "soldier" with the woman. -</p> - -<p> -"You might say so, Miss Gerson. Egypt—the -Nile country is my station. I am on my -way back there after a bit of a vacation at -home—London I mean, of course." -</p> - -<p> -She stole a quick side glance at the face of -her companion. A soldier's face it was, lean and -school-hardened and competent. Lines about -the eyes and mouth—the stamp of the sun and -the imprint of the habit to command—had -taken from Captain Woodhouse's features -something of freshness and youth, though -giving in return the index of inflexible will and -lust for achievement. His smooth lips were -a bit thin, Jane Gerson thought, and the -out-shooting chin, almost squared at the angles, -marked Captain Woodhouse as anything but a -trifler or a flirt. She was satisfied that -nothing of presumption or forwardness on the part -of this hard-molded chap from Egypt would -give her cause to regret her unconventional -offer of friendship. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse, in his turn, had made -a satisfying, though covert, appraisal of his -traveling companion by means of a narrow -mirror inset above the baggage rack over the -opposite seat. Trim and petite of figure, which -was just a shade under the average for height -and plumpness; a small head set sturdily on a -round smooth neck; face the very embodiment -of independence and self-confidence, with its -brown eyes wide apart, its high brow under -the parting waves of golden chestnut, broad -humorous mouth, and tiny nose slightly nibbed -upward: Miss Up-to-the-Minute New York, -indeed! From the cocked red feather in her -hat to the dainty spatted boots Jane Gerson -appeared in Woodhouse's eyes a perfect, virile, -vividly alive American girl. He'd met her -kind before; had seen them browbeating -bazaar merchants in Cairo and riding desert -donkeys like strong young queens. The type -appealed to him. -</p> - -<p> -The first stiffness of informal meeting wore -away speedily. The girl tactfully directed the -channel of conversation into lines familiar to -Woodhouse. What was Egypt like; who owned -the Pyramids, and why didn't the owners plant -a park around them and charge admittance? -Didn't he think Rameses and all those other -old Pharaohs had the right idea in advertising—putting -up stone billboards to last all time? -The questions came crisp and startling; -Woodhouse found himself chuckling at the shrewd -incisiveness of them. Rameses an advertiser -and the Pyramids stone hoardings to carry all -those old boys' fame through the ages! He'd -never looked on them in that light before. -</p> - -<p> -"I say, Miss Gerson, you'd make an excellent -business person, now, really," the captain -voiced his admiration. -</p> - -<p> -"Just cable that at my expense to old Pop -Hildebrand, of Hildebrand's department store, -New York," she flashed back at him. "I'm -trying to convince him of just that very -thing." -</p> - -<p> -"Really, now; a department shop! What, -may I ask, do you have to do for—ah—Pop -Hildebrand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I'm his foreign buyer," Jane answered, -with a conscious note of pride. "I'm over here -to buy gowns for the winter season, you see. -Paul Poiret—Worth—Paquin; you've heard of -those wonderful people, of course?" -</p> - -<p> -"Can't say I have," the captain confessed, -with a rueful smile into the girl's brown eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you've never bought a Worth?" she -challenged. "For if you had you'd not forget -the name—or the price—very soon." -</p> - -<p> -"Gowns—and things are not in my line, Miss -Gerson," he answered simply, and the girl -caught herself feeling a secret elation. A man -who didn't know gowns couldn't be very -intimately acquainted with women. And—well— -</p> - -<p> -"And this Hildebrand, he sends you over -here alone just to buy pretties for New York's -wonderful women?" the captain was saying. -"Aren't you just a bit—ah—nervous to be over -in this part of the world—alone?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not in the least," the girl caught him up. -"Not about the alone part, I should say. Maybe -I am fidgety and sort of worried about making -good on the job. This is my first trip—my -very first as a buyer for Hildebrand. And, -of course, if I should fall down——" -</p> - -<p> -"Fall down?" Woodhouse echoed, mystified. -The girl laughed, and struck her left wrist a -smart blow with her gloved right hand. -</p> - -<p> -"There I go again—slang; 'vulgar American -slang,' you'll call it. If I could only rattle off -the French as easily as I do New Yorkese I'd -be a wonder. I mean I'm afraid I won't make -good." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" -</p> - -<p> -"But why should I worry about coming over -alone?" Jane urged. "Lots of American girls -come over here alone with an American flag -pinned to their shirt-waists and wearing a -Baedeker for a wrist watch. Nothing ever -happens to them." -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse looked out on the flying -panorama of straw-thatched houses and -fields heavy with green grain. He seemed to -be balancing words. He glanced at the -passenger across the aisle, a wizened little man, -asleep. In a lowered voice he began: -</p> - -<p> -"A woman alone—over here on the Continent -at this time; why, I very much fear she -will have great difficulties when -the—ah—trouble comes." -</p> - -<p> -"Trouble?" Jane's eyes were questioning. -</p> - -<p> -"I do not wish to be an alarmist, Miss -Gerson," Captain Woodhouse continued, hesitant. -"Goodness knows we've had enough calamity -shouters among the Unionists at home. But -have you considered what you would do—how -you would get back to America in case -of—war?" The last word was almost a whisper. -</p> - -<p> -"War?" she echoed. "Why, you don't mean -all this talk in the papers is——" -</p> - -<p> -"Is serious, yes," Woodhouse answered quietly. -"Very serious." -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Captain Woodhouse, I thought you -had war talk every summer over here just as -our papers are filled each spring with gossip -about how Tesreau is going to jump to the -Feds, or the Yanks are going to be sold. It's -your regular midsummer outdoor sport over -here, this stirring up the animals." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse smiled, though his gray eyes -were filled with something not mirth. -</p> - -<p> -"I fear the animals are—stirred, as you say, -too far this time," he resumed. "The -assassination of the Archduke Ferd——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I remember I did read something -about that in the papers at home. But -archdukes and kings have been killed before, and -no war came of it. In Mexico they murder a -president before he has a chance to send out -'At home' cards." -</p> - -<p> -"Europe is so different from Mexico," her -companion continued, the lines of his face -deepening. "I am afraid you over in the States -do not know the dangerous politics here; you -are so far away; you should thank God for -that. You are not in a land where one -man—or two or three—may say, 'We will now go -to war,' and then you go, willy-nilly." -</p> - -<p> -The seriousness of the captain's speech and -the fear that he could not keep from his eyes -sobered the girl. She looked out on the -sun-drenched plains of Pas de Calais, where toy -villages, hedged fields, and squat farmhouses -lay all in order, established, seeming for all -time in the comfortable doze of security. The -plodding manikins in the fields, the slumberous -oxen drawing the harrows amid the beet rows, -pigeons circling over the straw hutches by the -tracks' side—all this denied the possibility of -war's corrosion. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you think everybody is suffering -from a bad dream when they say there's to -be fighting?" she queried. "Surely it is -impossible that folks over here would all consent -to destroy this." She waved toward the -peaceful countryside. -</p> - -<p> -"A bad dream, yes. But one that will end -in a nightmare," he answered. "Tell me, Miss -Gerson, when will you be through with your -work in Paris, and on your way back to America?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not for a month; that's sure. Maybe I'll -be longer if I like the place." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse pondered. -</p> - -<p> -"A month. This is the tenth of July. I am -afraid—— I say, Miss Gerson, please do not -set me down for a meddler—this short -acquaintance, and all that; but may I not urge -on you that you finish your work in Paris -and get back to England at least in two -weeks?" The captain had turned, and was -looking into the girl's eyes with an earnest -intensity that startled her. "I can not tell you -all I know, of course. I may not even know -the truth, though I think I have a bit of it, -right enough. But one of your sort—to be -caught alone on this side of the water by the -madness that is brewing! By George, I do -not like to think of it!" -</p> - -<p> -"I thank you, Captain Woodhouse, for your -warning," Jane answered him, and impulsively -she put out her hand to his. "But, you see, I'll -have to run the risk. I couldn't go scampering -back to New York like a scared pussy-cat just -because somebody starts a war over here. I'm -on trial. This is my first trip as buyer for -Hildebrand, and it's a case of make or break -with me. War or no war, I've got to make -good. Anyway"—this with a toss of her round -little chin—"I'm an American citizen, and -nobody'll dare to start anything with me." -</p> - -<p> -"Right you are!" Woodhouse beamed his -admiration. "Now we'll talk about those -skyscrapers of yours. Everybody back from the -States has something to say about those famous -buildings, and I'm fairly burning for first-hand -information from one who knows them." -</p> - -<p> -Laughingly she acquiesced, and the grim -shadow of war was pushed away from them, -though hardly forgotten by either. At the -man's prompting, Jane gave intimate pictures -of life in the New World metropolis, touching -with shrewd insight the fads and shams of -New York's denizens even as she exalted the -achievements of their restless energy. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse found secret amusement and -delight in her racy nervous speech, in the -dexterity of her idiom and patness of her -characterizations. Here was a new sort of -for him. Not the languid creature of -studied suppression and feeble enthusiasm he -had known, but a virile, vivid, sparkling -woman of a new land, whose impulses were as -unhindered as her speech was heterodox. She -was a woman who worked for her living; that -was a new type, too. Unafraid, she threw -herself into the competition of a man's world; -insensibly she prided herself on her ability to -"make good"—expressive Americanism, -that,—under any handicap. She was a woman with -a "job"; Captain Woodhouse had never before -met one such. -</p> - -<p> -Again, here was a woman who tried none -of the stale arts and tricks of coquetry; no -eyebrow strategy or maidenly simpering about -Jane Gerson. Once sure Woodhouse was what -she took him to be, a gentleman, the girl had -established a frank basis of comradeship that -took no reckoning of the age-old conventions -of sex allure and sex defense. The -unconventionality of their meeting weighed nothing -with her. Equally there was not a hint of -sophistication on the girl's part. -</p> - -<p> -So the afternoon sped, and when the sun -dropped over the maze of spires and chimney -pots that was Paris, each felt regret at parting. -</p> - -<p> -"To Egypt, yes," Woodhouse ruefully admitted. -"A dreary deadly 'place in the sun' for -me. To have met you, Miss Gerson; it has -been delightful, quite." -</p> - -<p> -"I hope," the girl said, as Woodhouse handed -her into a taxi, "I hope that <i>if</i> that war comes -it will find you still in Egypt, away from the -firing-line." -</p> - -<p> -"Not a fair thing to wish for a man in the -service," Woodhouse answered, laughing. "I -may be more happy when I say my best wish -for you is that <i>when</i> the war comes it will find -you a long way from Paris. Good-by, Miss -Gerson, and good luck!" -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse stood, heels together and -hat in hand, while her taxi trundled off, a -farewell flash of brown eyes rewarding him for the -military correctness of his courtesy. Then he -hurried to another station to take a train—not -for a Mediterranean port and distant Egypt, -but for Berlin. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap02"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER II -<br /> -FROM THE WILHELMSTRASSE -</h3> - -<p> -"It would be wiser to talk in German," the -woman said. "In these times French or -English speech in Berlin——" she finished, with -a lifting of her shapely bare shoulders, -sufficiently eloquent. The waiter speeded his task -of refilling the man's glass and discreetly -withdrew. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I'll talk in German quick enough," the -man assented, draining his thin half bubble of -glass down to the last fizzing residue in the -stem. "Only just show me you've got the right -to hear, and the good fat bank-notes to pay; -that's all." He propped his sharp chin on a -hand that shook slightly, and pushed his lean -flushed face nearer hers. An owlish caution -fought the wine fancies in his shifting lynx -eyes under reddened lids; also there was -admiration for the milk-white skin and ripe lips -of the woman by his side. For an instant—half -the time of a breath—a flash of loathing -made the woman's eyes tigerish; but at once -they changed again to mild bantering. -</p> - -<p> -"So? Friend Billy Capper, of Brussels, has -a touch of the spy fever himself, and distrusts -an old pal?" She laughed softly, and one slim -hand toyed with a heavy gold locket on her -bosom. "Friend Billy Capper forgets old -times and old faces—forgets even the matter -of the Lord Fisher letters——" -</p> - -<p> -"Chop it, Louisa!" The man called Capper -lapsed into brusk English as he banged the -stem of his wineglass on the damask. "No -sense in raking that up again—just because I -ask you a fair question—ask you to identify -yourself in your new job." -</p> - -<p> -"We go no further, Billy Capper," she -returned, speaking swiftly in German; "not -another word between us unless you obey my -rule, and talk this language. Why did you get -that message through to me to meet you here -in the Café Riche to-night if you did not trust -me? Why did you have me carry your offer -to—to headquarters and come here ready to talk -business if it was only to hum and haw about -my identifying myself?" -</p> - -<p> -The tenseness of exaggerated concentration -on Capper's gaunt face began slowly to -dissolve. First the thin line of shaven lips -flickered and became weak at down-drawn corners; -then the frown faded from about the eyes, and -the beginnings of tears gathered there. -Shrewdness and the stamp of cunning sped -entirely, and naught but weakness remained. -</p> - -<p> -"Louisa—Louisa, old pal; don't be hard on -poor Billy Capper," he mumbled. "I'm down, -girl—away down again. Since they kicked me -out at Brussels I haven't had a shilling to bless -myself with. Can't go back to England—you -know that; the French won't have me, and here -I am, my dinner clothes my only stock in trade -left, and you even having to buy the wine." A -tear of self-pity slipped down the hard drain -of his cheek and splashed on his hand. "But -I'll show 'em, Louisa! They can't kick me out -of the Brussels shop like a dog and not pay for -it! I know too much, I do!" -</p> - -<p> -"And what you know about the Brussels -shop you want to sell to the—Wilhelmstrasse?" -the woman asked tensely. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, if the Wilhelmstrasse is willing to pay -well for it," Capper answered, his lost cunning -returning in a bound. -</p> - -<p> -"I am authorized to judge how much your -information is worth," his companion declared, -leveling a cold glance into Capper's eyes. -"You can tell me what you know, and depend -on me to pay well, or—we part at once." -</p> - -<p> -"But, Louisa"—again the whine—"how do I -know you're what you say? You've flown high -since you and I worked together in the Brussels -shop. The Wilhelmstrasse—most perfect spy -machine in the world! How I'd like to be in -your shoes, Louisa!" -</p> - -<p> -She detached the heavy gold locket from the -chain on her bosom, with a quick twist of slim -fingers had one side of the case open, then laid -the locket before him, pointing to a place on -the bevel of the case. Capper swept up the -trinket, looked searchingly for an instant at -the spot the woman had designated, and -returned the locket to her hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Your number in the Wilhelmstrasse," he -whispered in awe. "Genuine, no doubt. Saw -the same sort of mark once before in Rome. -All right. Now, listen, Louisa. What I'm -going to tell you about where Brussells stands -in this—this business that's brewing will make -the German general staff sit up." The woman -inclined her head toward Capper's. He, -looking not at her but out over the rich plain of -brocades, broadcloths and gleaming shoulders, -began in a monotone: -</p> - -<p> -"When the war comes—the day the war -starts, French artillerymen will be behind the -guns at Namur. The English——" -</p> - -<p> -The Hungarian orchestra of forty strings -swept into a wild gipsy chant. Dissonances, -fierce and barbaric, swept like angry tides over -the brilliant floor, of the café. Still Capper -talked on, and the woman called Louisa bent -her jewel-starred head to listen. Her face, the -face of a fine animal, was set in rapt attention. -</p> - -<p> -"You mark my words," he finished, "when -the German army enters Brussels proof of -what I'm telling you will be there. Yes, in a -pigeonhole of the foreign-office safe those joint -plans between England and Belgium for resisting -invasion from the eastern frontier. If the -Germans strike as swiftly as I think they will -the foreign-office Johnnies will be so flustered -in moving out they'll forget these papers I'm -telling you about. Then your Wilhelmstrasse -will know they've paid for the truth when they -paid Billy Capper." -</p> - -<p> -Capper eagerly reached for his glass, and, -finding it empty, signaled the waiter. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll buy this one, Louisa," he said -grandiloquently. "Can't have a lady buying me wine -all night." He gave the order. "You're going -to slip me some bank-notes to-night—right -now, aren't you, Louisa, old pal?" Capper -anxiously honed his cheeks with a hand that -trembled. The woman's eyes were narrowed -in thought. -</p> - -<p> -"If I give you anything to-night, Billy -Capper, you'll get drunker than you are now, and -how do I know you won't run to the first -English secret-service man you meet and blab?" -</p> - -<p> -"Louisa! Louisa! Don't say that!" Great -fear and great yearning sat in Capper's filmed -eyes. "You know I'm honest, Louisa! You -wouldn't milk me this way—take all the info -I've got and then throw me over like a dog!" Cold -scorn was in her glance. -</p> - -<p> -"Maybe I might manage to get you a position—with -the Wilhelmstrasse." She named the -great secret-service office under her breath. -"You can't go back to England, to be sure; but -you might be useful in the Balkans, where -you're not known, or even in Egypt. You have -your good points, Capper; you're a sly little -weasel—when you're sober. Perhaps——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes; get me a job with the Wilhelmstrasse, -Louisa!" Capper was babbling in an -agony of eagerness. "You know my work. -You can vouch for me, and you needn't mention -that business of the Lord Fisher letters; -you were tarred pretty much with the same -brush there, Louisa. But, come, be a good -sport; pay me at least half of what you think -my info's worth, and I'll take the rest out in -salary checks, if you get me that job. I'm -broke, Louisa!" His voice cracked in a sob. -"Absolutely stony broke!" -</p> - -<p> -She sat toying with the stem of her wineglass -while Capper's clasped hands on the table -opened and shut themselves without his -volition. Finally she made a swift move of one -hand to her bodice, withdrew it with a bundle -of notes crinkling between the fingers. -</p> - -<p> -"Three hundred marks now, Billy Capper," -she said. The man echoed the words lovingly. -"Three hundred now, and my promise to try -to get a number for you with—my people. -That's fair?" -</p> - -<p> -"Fair as can be, Louisa." He stretched out -clawlike fingers to receive the thin sheaf of -notes she counted from her roll. "Here comes -the wine—the wine I'm buying. We'll drink -to my success at landing a job with—your -people." -</p> - -<p> -"For me no more to-night," the woman -answered. "My cape, please." She rose. -</p> - -<p> -"But, I say!" Capper protested. "Just one -more bottle—the bottle I'm buying. See, here -it is all proper and cooled. Marks the end of -my bad luck, so it does. You won't refuse to -drink with me to my good luck that's coming?" -</p> - -<p> -"Your good luck is likely to stop short with -that bottle, Billy Capper," she said, her lips -parting in a smile half scornful. "You know -how wine has played you before. Better stop -now while luck's with you." -</p> - -<p> -"Hanged if I do!" he answered stubbornly. -"After these months of hand to mouth and -begging for a nasty pint of ale in a common -pub—leave good wine when it's right under my -nose? Not me!" Still protesting against her -refusal to drink with him the wine he would -pay for himself—the man made that a point of -injured honor—Capper grudgingly helped -place the cape of web lace over his companion's -white shoulders, and accompanied her to her -taxi. -</p> - -<p> -"If you're here this time to-morrow night—and -sober," were her farewell words, "I may -bring you your number in the—you -understand; that and your commission to duty." -</p> - -<p> -"God bless you, Louisa, girl!" Capper -stammered thickly. "I'll not fail you." -</p> - -<p> -He watched the taxi trundle down the brilliant -mirror of Unter den Linden, a sardonic -smile twisting his lips. Then he turned back -to the world of light and perfume and wine—the -world from which he had been barred these -many months and for which the starved body -of him had cried out in agony. His glass stood -brimming; money crinkled in his pocket; there -were eyes for him and fair white shoulders. -Billy Capper, discredited spy, had come to his -own once more. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The orchestra was booming a rag-time, and -the chorus on the stage of the Winter Garden -came plunging to the footlights, all in line, -their black legs kicking out from the skirts -like thrusting spindles in some marvelous -engine of stagecraft. They screeched the -final line of a Germanized coon song, the -cymbals clanged "Zam-m-m!" and folk about -the clustered tables pattered applause. -Captain Woodhouse, at a table by himself, pulled -a wafer of a watch from his waistcoat pocket, -glanced at its face and looked back at the -rococo entrance arches, through which the -late-comers were streaming. -</p> - -<p> -"Henry Sherman, do you think Kitty ought -to see this sort of thing? It's positively -indecent!" -</p> - -<p> -The high-pitched nasal complaint came from -a table a little to the right of the one where -Woodhouse was sitting. -</p> - -<p> -"There, there, mother! Now, don't go taking -all the joy outa life just because you're seeing -something that would make the minister back -in Kewanee roll his eyes in horror. This is -Germany, mother!" -</p> - -<p> -Out of the tail of his eye, Woodhouse could -see the family group wherein Mrs. Grundy had -sat down to make a fourth. A blocky little -man with a red face and a pinky-bald head, -whose clothes looked as if they had been -whipsawed out of the bolt; a comfortably stout -matron wearing a bonnet which even to the -untutored masculine eye betrayed its -provincialism; a slim slip of a girl of about -nineteen with a face like a choir boy's—these were -the American tourists whose voices had -attracted Woodhouse's attention. He played an -amused eavesdropper, all the more interested -because they were Americans, and since a -certain day on the Calais-Paris express, a week -or so gone, he'd had reason to be interested in -all Americans. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm surprised at you, Henry, defending -such an exhibition as this," the matron's high -complaint went on, "when you were mighty -shocked at the bare feet of those innocent -Greek dancers the Ladies' Aid brought to give -an exhibition on Mrs. Peck's lawn." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, mother, that was different," the -genial little chap answered. "Kewanee's a good -little town, and should stay proper. Berlin, -from what I can see, is a pretty bad big -town—and don't care." He pulled a heavy watch -from his waistcoat pocket and consulted it. -"Land's sakes, mother; seven o'clock back -home, and the bell's just ringing for -Wednesday-night prayer meeting! Maybe since it's -prayer-meeting night we might be passing our -time better than by looking at this—ah—exhibition." -</p> - -<p> -There was a scraping of chairs, then: -</p> - -<p> -"Henry, I tell you he does look like Albert -Downs—the living image!" This from the -woman, sotto voce. -</p> - -<p> -"Sh! mother! What would Albert Downs -be doing in Berlin?" The daughter was reproving. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Kitty, they say curiosity once killed -a cat; but I'm going to have a better look. I'd -swear——" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse was slightly startled when he saw -the woman from America utilize the clumsy -subterfuge of a dropped handkerchief to step -into a position whence she could look at his -face squarely. Also he was annoyed. He did -not care to be stared at under any circumstances, -particularly at this time. The alert -and curious lady saw his flush of annoyance, -flushed herself, and joined her husband and -daughter. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, if I didn't know Albert Downs had a -livery business which he couldn't well leave," -floated back the hoarse whisper, "I'd say that -was him setting right there in that chair." -</p> - -<p> -"Come, mother, bedtime and after—in -Berlin," was the old gentleman's admonition. -Woodhouse heard their retreating footsteps, -and laughed in spite of his temporary chagrin -at the American woman's curiosity. He was -just reaching for his watch a second time when -a quick step sounded on the gravel behind him. -He turned. A woman of ripe beauty had her -hand outstretched in welcome. She was the -one Billy Capper had called Louisa. Captain -Woodhouse rose and grasped her hand warmly. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah! So good of you! I've been expecting——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I'm late. I could not come -earlier." Salutation and answer were in German, -fluently spoken on the part of each. -</p> - -<p> -"You will not be followed?" Woodhouse -asked, assisting her to sit. She laughed -shortly. -</p> - -<p> -"Hardly, when a bottle of champagne is my -rival. The man will be well entertained—too -well." -</p> - -<p> -"I have been thinking," Woodhouse continued -gravely, "that a place hardly as public -as this would have been better for our -meeting. Perhaps——" -</p> - -<p> -"You fear the English agents? Pah! They -have ears for keyholes only; they do not expect -to use them in a place where there is light and -plenty of people. You know their clumsiness." Woodhouse -nodded. His eyes traveled slowly -over the bold beauty of the woman's face. -</p> - -<p> -"The man Capper will do for the stalking -horse—a willing nag," went on the woman -in a half whisper across the table. "You know -the ways of the Wilhelmstrasse. Capper is -what we call 'the target.' The English suspect -him. They will catch him; you get his number -and do the work in safety. We have one man -to draw their fire, another to accomplish the -deed. We'll let the English bag him at Malta—a -word placed in the right direction will fix -that—and you'll go on to Alexandria to do the -real work." -</p> - -<p> -"Good, good!" Woodhouse agreed. -</p> - -<p> -"The Wilhelmstrasse will give him a number, -and send him on this mission on my recommendation; -I had that assurance before ever I -met the fellow to-night. They—the big -people—know little Capper's reputation, and, as a -matter of fact, I think they are convinced he's -a little less dangerous working for the -Wilhelmstrasse than against it. At Malta the -arrest—the firing squad at dawn—and the English -are convinced they've nipped something big in -the bud, whereas they've only put out of the -way a dangerous little weasel who's ready to -bite any hand that feeds him." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse's level glance never left the eyes -of the woman called Louisa; it was alert, -appraising. -</p> - -<p> -"But if there should be some slip-up at -Malta," he interjected. "If somehow this -Capper should get through to Alexandria, wouldn't -that make it somewhat embarrassing for me?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not at all, my dear Woodhouse," she caught -him up, with a little pat on his hand. "His -instructions will be only to report to So-and-so -at Alexandria; he will not have the slightest -notion what work he is to do there. You can -slip in unsuspected by the English, and the -trick will be turned." -</p> - -<p> -For a minute Woodhouse sat watching the -cavortings of a dancer on the stage. Finally -he put a question judiciously: -</p> - -<p> -"The whole scheme, then, is——" -</p> - -<p> -"This," she answered quickly. "Captain -Woodhouse—the real Woodhouse, you know—is -to be transferred from his present post at -Wady Halfa, on the Nile, to Gibraltar—transfer -is to be announced in the regular way -within a week. As a member of the signal -service he will have access to the signal tower -on the Rock when he takes his new post, and -that, as you know, will be very important." -</p> - -<p> -"Very important!" Woodhouse echoed dryly. -</p> - -<p> -"This Woodhouse arrives in Alexandria to -await the steamer from Suez to Gib. He has -no friends there—that much we know. Three -men of the Wilhelmstrasse are waiting there, -whose business it is to see that the real -Woodhouse does not take the boat for Gib. They -expect a man from Berlin to come to them, -bearing a number from the Wilhelmstrasse—the -man who is to impersonate Woodhouse and -as such take his place in the garrison on the -Rock. There are two others of the Wilhelmstrasse -at Gibraltar already; they, too, are -eagerly awaiting the arrival of 'Woodhouse' -from Alexandria. Capper, with a number, will -start from Berlin for Alexandria. Capper will -never arrive in Alexandria. You will." -</p> - -<p> -"With a number—the number expected?" the -man asked. -</p> - -<p> -"If you are clever en route—yes," she -answered, with a smile. "Wine, remember, is -Billy Capper's best friend—and worst enemy." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I will hear from you as to the time -and route of departure for Alexandria?" -</p> - -<p> -"To the very hour, yes. And, now, dear -friend——" -</p> - -<p> -Interruption came suddenly from the stage. -The manager, in shirt-sleeves and with hair -wildly rumpled over his eyes, came prancing -out from the wings. He held up a pudgy hand -to check the orchestra. Hundreds about the -tables rose in a gust of excitement, of -questioning wonder. -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Herren!</i>" The stage manager's bellow -carried to the farthest arches of the Winter -Garden. "News just published by the general -staff: Russia has mobilized five divisions on -the frontier of East Prussia and Galicia!" -</p> - -<p> -Not a sound save the sharp catching of -breath over all the acre of tables. Then the -stage manager nodded to the orchestra leader, -and in a fury the brass mouths began to bray. -Men climbed on table tops, women stood on -chairs, and all—all sang in tremendous chorus: -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Deutschland, Deutschland üeber alles!</i>" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap03"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER III -<br /> -BILLY CAPPER AT PLAY -</h3> - -<p> -The night of July twenty-sixth. The scene -is the table-cluttered sidewalk before the -Café Pytheas, where the Cours St. Louis flings -its night tide of idlers into the broader stream -of the Cannebière, Marseilles' Broadway—the -white street of the great Provençal port. Here -at the crossing of these two streets summer -nights are incidents to stick in the traveler's -mind long after he sees the gray walls of the -Château d'If fade below the steamer's rail. -The flower girls in their little pulpits pressing -dewy violets and fragrant clusters of rosebuds -upon the strollers with persuasive eloquence; -the mystical eyes of hooded Moors who see -everything as they pass, yet seem to see so -little; jostling Greeks, Levantines, burnoosed -Jews from Algiers and red-trousered -Senegalese—all the color from the hot lands of the -Mediterranean is there. -</p> - -<p> -But on the night of July twenty-sixth the old -spirit of indolence, of pleasure seeking, -flirtation, intriguing, which was wont to make this -heart of arc-light life in Marseilles pulse -languorously, was gone. Instead, an electric -tenseness was abroad, pervading, infectious. About -each sidewalk table heads were clustered close -in conference, and eloquent hands aided -explosive argument. Around the news kiosk at the -Café Pytheas corner a constant stream eddied. -Men snatched papers from the pile, spread -them before their faces, and blundered into -their fellow pedestrians as they walked, buried -in the inky columns. Now and again -half-naked urchins came charging down the -Cannebière, waving shinplaster extras above their -heads—"<i>L'Allemagne s'arme! La guerre -vient!</i>" Up from the Quai marched a dozen -sailors from a torpedo boat, arms linked so -that they almost spanned the Cannebière. -Their red-tasseled caps were pushed back at -cocky angles on their black heads, and as they -marched they shouted in time: "<i>A Berlin! -Hou—hou!</i>" -</p> - -<p> -The black shadow of war—the first hallucinations -of the great madness—gripped Marseilles. -</p> - -<p> -For Captain Woodhouse, just in from Berlin -that evening, all this swirling excitement had -but an incidental interest. He sat alone by -one of the little iron tables before the Café -Pytheas, sipping his <i>boc</i>, and from time to time -his eyes carelessly followed the eddying of the -swarm about the news kiosk. Always his -attention would come back, however, to center on -the thin shoulders of a man sitting fifteen or -twenty feet away with a wine cooler by his -side. He could not see the face of the wine -drinker; he did not want to. All he cared to -do was to keep those thin shoulders always in -sight. Each time the solicitous waiter renewed -the bottle in the wine cooler Captain -Woodhouse nodded grimly, as a doctor might when -he recognized the symptoms of advancing fever -in a patient. -</p> - -<p> -So for two days, from Berlin across to Paris, -and now on this third day here in the Mediterranean -port, Woodhouse had kept ever in sight -those thin shoulders and that trembling hand -beyond the constantly crooking elbow. Not a -pleasant task; he had come to loathe and -abominate the very wrinkles in the back of that -shiny coat. But a very necessary duty it was -for Captain Woodhouse to shadow Mr. Billy -Capper until—the right moment should arrive. -They had come down on the same express -together from Paris. Woodhouse had observed -Capper when he checked his baggage, a single -shoddy hand-bag, for <i>La Vendée</i>, the French -line ship sailing with the dawn next morning -for Alexandria and Port Said via Malta. -Capper had squared his account at the Hotel Allées -de Meilhan, for the most part a bill for absinth -frappés, after dinner that night, and was now -enjoying the night life of Marseilles in -anticipation, evidently, of carrying direct to the -steamer with him as his farewell from France -all of the bottled laughter of her peasant girls -he could accommodate. -</p> - -<p> -The harsh memories of how he had been -forced to drink the bitter lees of poverty -during the lean months rode Billy Capper hard, -and this night he wanted to fill all the starved -chambers of his soul with the robust music of -the grape. So he drank with a purpose and -purposefully. That he drank alone was a -matter of choice with Capper; he could have had -a pair of dark eyes to glint over a goblet into -his had he wished—indeed, opportunities -almost amounted to embarrassment. But to all -advances from the fair, Billy Capper returned -merely an impolite leer. He knew from -beforetime that he was his one best companion -when the wine began to warm him. So he -squared himself to his pleasure with an -abandoned rakishness expressed in the set of his -thin shoulders and the forward droop of his -head. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, who watched, noted only one -peculiarity in Capper's conduct: The drinker -nursed his stick, a plain, crook-handled -malacca, with a tenderness almost maternal. It -never left his hands. Once when Capper -dropped it and the waiter made to prop the -stick against a near-by chair, the little spy -leaped to his feet and snatched the cane away -with a growl. Thereafter he propped his chin -on the handle, only removing this guard when -he had to tip his head back for another draft -of champagne. -</p> - -<p> -Eleven o'clock came. Capper rose from the -table and looked owlishly about him. Woodhouse -quickly turned his back to the man, and -was absorbed in the passing strollers. When -he looked back again Capper was slowly and a -little unsteadily making his way around the -corner into the Cannebière. Woodhouse -followed, sauntering. Capper began a dilatory -exploration of the various cafés along the white -street; his general course was toward the city's -slums about the Quai. Woodhouse, dawdling -about tree boxes and dodging into shadows by -black doorways, found his quarry easy to trail. -And he knew that each of Capper's sojourns in -an oasis put a period to the length of the -pursuit. The time for him to act drew appreciably -nearer with every tipping of that restless -elbow. -</p> - -<p> -Midnight found them down in the reek and -welter of the dives and sailors' frolic grounds. -Now the trailer found his task more difficult, -inasmuch as not only his quarry but he -himself was marked by the wolves. Dances in -smoke-wreathed rooms slackened when Capper -lurched in, found a seat and ordered a drink. -Women with cheeks carmined like poppies -wanted to make predatory love to him; dock -rats drew aside and consulted in whispers. -When Capper retreated from an evil dive on -the very edge of the Quai, Woodhouse, waiting -by the doors, saw that he was not the only -shadower. Close against the dead walls -flanking the narrow pavement a slinking figure -twisted and writhed after the drunkard, now -spread-eagling all over the street. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse quickened his pace on the opposite -sidewalk. The street was one lined with -warehouses, their closely shuttered windows -the only eyes. Capper dropped his stick, -laboriously halted, and started to go back for it. -That instant the shadow against the walls -detached itself and darted for the victim. -Woodhouse leaped to the cobbles and gained Capper's -side just as he dropped like a sack of rags -under a blow from the dock rat's fist. -</p> - -<p> -"Son of a pig! This is my meat; you clear -out!" The humped black beetle of a man -straddling the sprawling Capper whipped a -knife from his girdle and faced Woodhouse. -Quicker than light the captain's right arm shot -out; a thud as of a maul on an empty wine butt, -and the Apache turned a half somersault, -striking the cobbles with the back of his head. -Woodhouse stooped, lifted the limp Capper -from the street stones, and staggered with him -to the lighted avenue of the Cannebière, a block -away. He hailed a late-cruising fiacre, propped -Capper in the seat, and took his place beside -him. -</p> - -<p> -"To <i>La Vendée</i>, Quai de la Fraternité!" -Woodhouse ordered. -</p> - -<p> -The driver, wise in the ways of the city, -asked no questions, but clucked to his crow -bait. Woodhouse turned to make a quick -examination of the unconscious man by his side. -He feared a stab wound; he found nothing but -a nasty cut on the head, made by brass -knuckles. With the wine helping, any sort of -a blow would have put Capper out, he reflected. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse turned his back on the bundle of -clothes and reached for the malacca stick. Even -in his coma its owner grasped it tenaciously at -midlength. Without trying to disengage the -clasp, Woodhouse gripped the wood near the -crook of the handle with his left Hand while -with his right he applied torsion above. The -crook turned on hidden threads and came off in -his hand. An exploring forefinger in the -exposed hollow end of the cane encountered a -rolled wisp of paper. Woodhouse pocketed -this, substituted in its place a thin clean sheet -torn from a card-case memorandum, then -screwed the crook on the stick down on the -secret receptacle. By the light of a match he -assured himself the paper he had taken from -the cane was what he wanted. -</p> - -<p> -"Larceny from the person—guilty," he -murmured, with a wry smile of distaste. "But -assault—unpremeditated." -</p> - -<p> -The conveyance trundled down a long spit -of stone and stopped by the side of a black hull, -spotted with round eyes of light. The driver, -scenting a tip, helped Woodhouse lift Capper -to the ground and prop him against a bulkhead. -A bos'n, summoned from <i>La Vendée</i> by -the cabby's shrill whistle, heard Woodhouse's -explanation with sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -"Occasionally, yes, m'sieu, the passengers -from Marseilles have these regrets at parting," -he gravely commented, accepting the ticket -Woodhouse had rummaged from the unconscious -man's wallet and a crinkled note from -Woodhouse's. Up the gangplank, feet first, -went the new agent of the Wilhelmstrasse. -The one who called himself "captain in his -majesty's signal service" returned to his hotel. -</p> - -<p> -At dawn, <i>La Vendée</i> cleared the harbor for -Alexandria via Malta, bearing a very sick Billy -Capper to his destiny. Five hours later the -Castle liner, <i>Castle Claire</i>, for the Cape via -Alexandria and Suez direct, sailed out of the -Old Port, among her passengers a Captain -Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap04"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IV -<br /> -32 QUEEN'S TERRACE -</h3> - -<p> -Many a long starlit hour alone on the -deck of the <i>Castle Claire</i> Captain -Woodhouse found himself tortured by a -persistent vision. Far back over the northern -horizon lay Europe, trembling and breathless -before the imminent disaster—a great field of -grain, each stalk bearing for its head the -helmeted head of a man. Out of the east came -a glow, which spread from boundary to -boundary, waxed stronger in the wind of hate. -Finally the fire, devastating, insensate, began -its sweep through the close-standing mazes of -the grain. Somewhere in this fire-glow and -swift leveling under the scythe of the flame -was a girl, alone, appalled. Woodhouse could -see her as plainly as though a cinema was -unreeling swift pictures before him—the girl -caught in this vast acreage of fire, in the -standing grain, with destruction drawing nearer in -incredible strides. He saw her wide eyes, her -streaming hair—saw her running through the -grain, whose heads were the helmeted heads of -men. Her hands groped blindly and she was -calling—calling, with none to come in aid. -Jane Gerson alone in the face of Europe's -burning! -</p> - -<p> -Strive as he would, Woodhouse could not -screen this picture from his eyes. He tried to -hope that ere this, discretion had conquered her -resolution to "make good," and that she had -fled from Paris, one of the great army of -refugees who had already begun to pour out -of the gates of France when he passed through -the war-stunned capital a few days before. -But, no; there was no mistaking the determination -he had read in those brown eyes that day -on the express from Calais. "I couldn't go -scampering back to New York just because -somebody starts a war over here." Brave, yes; -but hers was the bravery of ignorance. This -little person from the States, on her first -venture into the complex life of the Continent, -could not know what war there would mean; -the terror and magnitude of it. And now -where was she? In Paris, caught in its -hysteria of patriotism and darkling fear of -what the morrow would bring forth? Or had -she started for England, and become wedged -in the jam of terrified thousands battling for -place on the Channel steamers? Was her fine -self-reliance upholding her, or had the crisis -sapped her courage and thrown her back on -the common helplessness of women before disaster? -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse, the self-sufficient and -aloof, whose training had been all toward -suppression of every instinct save that in the line -of duty, was surprised at himself. That a -little American inconnu—a "business person," -he would have styled her under conditions less -personal—should have come into his life in this -definite way was, to say the least, highly -irregular. The man tried to swing his reason -as a club against his heart—and failed -miserably. No, the fine brave spirit that looked out -of those big brown eyes would not be argued -out of court. Jane Gerson was a girl who was -<i>different</i>, and that very difference was -altogether alluring. Woodhouse caught himself -going over the incidents of their meeting. -Fondly he reviewed scraps of their -conversation on the train, lingering on the pat slang -she used so unconsciously. -</p> - -<p> -Was it possible Jane Gerson ever had a -thought for Captain Woodhouse? The man -winced a little at this speculation. Had it been -fair of him when he so glibly practised a -deception on her? If she knew what his present -business was, would she understand; would she -approve? Could this little American ever -know, or believe, that some sorts of service -were honorable? -</p> - -<p> -Just before the <i>Castle Claire</i> raised the -breakwater of Alexandria came a wireless, -which was posted at the head of the saloon -companionway: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Germany declares war on Russia. German -flying column reported moving through -Luxemburg on Belgium." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The fire was set to the grain. -</p> - -<p> -Upon landing, Captain Woodhouse's first -business was to go to a hotel on the Grand -Square, which is the favorite stopping place of -officers coming down from the Nile country. -He fought his way through the predatory -hordes of yelling donkey boys and obsequious -dragomans at the door, and entered the -palm-shaded court, which served as office and lounge. -Woodhouse paused for a second behind a screen -of palm leaves and cast a quick eye around the -court. None of the loungers there was known -to him. He strode to the desk. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, sir, a room with bath, overlooking the -gardens on the north side—very cool." The -Greek clerk behind the desk smiled a welcome. -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps," Woodhouse answered shortly, and -he turned the register around to read the names -of the recent comers. On the first page he -found nothing to interest him; but among the -arrivals of the day before he saw this entry: -"C. G. Woodhouse, Capt. Sig. Service; Wady -Halfa." After it was entered the room number: "210." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse read right over the name and -turned another page a bit impatiently. This -he scanned with seeming eagerness, while the -clerk stood with pen poised. -</p> - -<p> -"Um! When is the first boat out for -Gibraltar?" Woodhouse asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, sir, the <i>Princess Mary</i> is due to sail at -dawn day after to-morrow," the Greek -answered judiciously. "She is reported at Port -Said to-day, but, of course, the war——" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse turned away. -</p> - -<p> -"But you wish a room, sir—nice room, with -bath, overlooking——" -</p> - -<p> -"No." -</p> - -<p> -"You expected to find a friend, then?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not here," Woodhouse returned bruskly, -and passed out into the blinding square. -</p> - -<p> -He strode swiftly around the statue of -Mehemet Ali and plunged into the bedlam crowd -filling a side street. With sure sense of -direction, he threaded the narrow alleyways and -by-streets until he had come to the higher part of -the mongrel city, near the Rosetta Gate. There -he turned into a little French hotel, situated -far from the disordered pulse of the city's -heart; a sort of pension, it was, known only -to the occasional discriminating tourist. -Maitre Mouquère was proud of the anonymity -his house preserved, and abhorred poor, driven -Cook's slaves as he would a plague. In his Cap -de Liberté one was lost to all the world of -Alexandria. -</p> - -<p> -Thither the captain's baggage had been sent -direct from the steamer. After a glass with -Maitre Mouquère and a half hour's discussion -of the day's great news, Woodhouse pleaded a -touch of the sun, and went to his room. There -he remained, until the gold of sunset had faded -from the Mosque of Omar's great dome and all -the city from Pharos and its harbor hedge of -masts to El Meks winked with lights. Then -he took carriage to the railroad station and -entrained for Ramleh. What South Kensington -is to London and the Oranges are to New -York, Ramleh is to Alexandria—the suburb of -homes. There pretty villas lie in the lap of the -delta's greenery, skirted by canals, cooled by -the winds off Aboukir Bay and shaded by great -palms—the one beauty spot in all the hybrid -product of East and West that is the present -city of Alexander. -</p> - -<p> -Remembering directions he had received in -Berlin, Woodhouse threaded shaded streets -until he paused before a stone gateway set in a -high wall. On one of the pillars a small brass -plate was inset. By the light of a near-by arc, -Woodhouse read the inscription on it: -</p> - -<p class="noindent"> - EMIL KOCH, M.D.,<br /> - 32 Queen's Terrace.<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -He threw back his shoulders with a sudden -gesture, which might have been taken for that -of a man about to make a plunge, and rang -the bell. The heavy wooden gate, filling all the -space of the arch, was opened by a tall -Numidian in house livery of white. He nodded an -affirmative to Woodhouse's question, and led the -way through an avenue of flaming hibiscus to -a house, set far back under heavy shadow of -acacias. On every hand were gardens, rank -foliage shutting off this walled yard from the -street and neighboring dwellings. The heavy -gate closed behind the visitor with a sharp -snap. One might have said that Doctor Koch -lived in pretty secure isolation. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse was shown into a small room off -the main hall, by its furnishings and position -evidently a waiting-room for the doctor's -patients. The Numidian bowed, and disappeared. -Alone, Woodhouse rose and strolled aimlessly -about the room, flipped the covers of -magazines on the table, picked up and hefted the -bronze Buddha on the onyx mantel, noted, with -a careless glance, the position of the two -windows in relation to the entrance door and the -folding doors, now shut, which doubtless gave -on the consultation room. As he was regarding -these doors they rolled back and a short -thickset man, with a heavy mane of iron-gray -hair and black brush of beard, stood between -them. He looked at Woodhouse through thick-lensed -glasses, which gave to his stare a curiously -intent bent. -</p> - -<p> -"My office hours are from two to four, -afternoons," Doctor Koch said. He spoke in -English, but his speech was burred by a slight -heaviness on the aspirants, reminiscent of his -mother tongue. The doctor did not ask -Woodhouse to enter the consultation room, but -continued standing between the folding doors, -staring fixedly through his thick lenses. -</p> - -<p> -"I know that, Doctor," Woodhouse began -apologetically, following the physician's lead -and turning his tongue to English. "But, you -see, in a case like mine I have to intrude"—it -was "haf" and "indrude" as Woodhouse gave -these words—"because I could not be here -during your office hours. You will pardon?" -</p> - -<p> -Doctor Koch's eyes widened just perceptibly -at the hint of a Germanic strain in his visitor's -speech—just a hint quickly glossed over. But -still he remained standing in his former -attitude of annoyance. -</p> - -<p> -"Was the sun, then, too hot to bermit you -to come to my house during regular office -hours? At nights I see no batients—bositively -none." -</p> - -<p> -"The sun—perhaps," Woodhouse replied -guardedly. "But as I happened just to arrive -to-day from Marseilles, and your name was -strongly recommended to me as one to consult -in a case such as mine——" -</p> - -<p> -"Where was my name recommended to you, -and by whom?" Doctor Koch interrupted in -sudden interest. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse looked at him steadily. "In -Berlin—and by a friend of yours," he answered. -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed?" The doctor stepped back from the -doors, and motioned his visitor into the -consultation room. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse stepped into a large room lighted -by a single green-shaded reading lamp, which -threw a white circle of light straight down -upon a litter of thin-bladed scalpels in a glass -dish of disinfectant on a table. The shadowy -outlines of an operating chair, of -high-shouldered bookcases, and the dull glint of -instruments in a long glass case were almost -imperceptible because of the centering of all -light upon the glass dish of knives. Doctor -Koch dragged a chair out from the shadows, -and, carelessly enough, placed it in the area of -radiance; he motioned Woodhouse to sit. The -physician leaned carelessly against an arm of -the operating chair; his face was in the shadow -save where reflected light shone from his -glasses, giving them the aspect of detached -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"So, a friend—a friend in Berlin told you to -consult me, eh? Berlin is a long way from -Ramleh—especially in these times. Greater -physicians than I live in Berlin. Why——" -</p> - -<p> -"My friend in Berlin told me you were the -only physician who could help me in my -peculiar trouble." Imperceptibly the accenting -of the aspirants in Woodhouse's speech grew -more marked; his voice took on a throaty -character. "By some specialists my life even has -been set to end in a certain year, so sure is fate -for those afflicted like myself." -</p> - -<p> -"So? What year is it, then, you die?" Doctor -Koch's strangely detached eyes—those -eyes of glass glowing dimly in the shadow—seemed -to flicker palely with a light all their -own. Captain Woodhouse, sitting under the -white spray of the shaded incandescent, looked -up carelessly to meet the stare. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, they give me plenty of time to enjoy -myself," he answered, with a light laugh. "They -say in 1932——" -</p> - -<p> -"Nineteen thirty-two!" Doctor Koch stepped -lightly to the closed folding doors, trundled -them back an inch to assure himself nobody -was in the waiting-room, then closed and -locked them. He did similarly by a hidden door -on the opposite side of the room, which -Woodhouse had not seen. After that he pulled a -chair close to his visitor and sat down, his -knees almost touching the other's. He spoke -very low, in German: -</p> - -<p> -"If your trouble is so serious that you will -die—in 1932, I must, of course, examine you -for—symptoms." -</p> - -<p> -For half a minute the two men looked fixedly -at each other. Woodhouse's right hand went -slowly to the big green scarab stuck in his -cravat. He pulled the pin out, turned it over -in his fingers, and by pressure caused the -scarab to pop out of the gold-backed setting -holding it. The bit of green stone lay in the -palm of his left hand, its back exposed. In the -hollowed back of the beetle was a small square -of paper, folded minutely. This Woodhouse -removed, unfolded and passed to the physician. -The latter seized it avidly, holding it close to -his spectacled eyes, and then spreading it -against the light as if to read a secret water -mark. A smile struggled through the jungle -of his beard. He found Woodhouse's hand and -grasped it warmly. -</p> - -<p> -"Your symptom tallies with my diagnosis, -Nineteen Thirty-two," he began rapidly. "Five -days ago we heard from—the Wilhelmstrasse—you -would come. We have expected you each -day, now. Already we have got word through -to our friends at Gibraltar of the plan; they -are waiting for you." -</p> - -<p> -"Good!" Woodhouse commented. He was -busy refolding the thin slip of paper that had -been his talisman, and fitting it into the back -of the scarab. "Woodhouse—he is already at -the Hotel Khedive; saw his name on the -register when I landed from the Castle this -morning." Now the captain was talking in familiar -German. -</p> - -<p> -"Quite so," Doctor Koch put in. "Woodhouse -came down from Wady Halfa yesterday. -Our man up there had advised of the -time of his arrival in Alexandria to the -minute. The captain has his ticket for -the <i>Princess Mary</i>, which sails for Gibraltar -day after to-morrow at dawn." -</p> - -<p> -Number Nineteen Thirty-two listened to -Doctor Koch's outlining of the plot with set -features; only his eyes showed that he was -acutely alive to every detail. Said he: -</p> - -<p> -"But Woodhouse—this British captain who's -being transferred from the Nile country to the -Rock; has he ever served there before? If he -has, why, when I get there—when I am Captain -Woodhouse, of the signal service—I will -be embarrassed if I do not know the ropes." -</p> - -<p> -"Seven years ago Woodhouse was there for a -very short time," Doctor Koch explained. "New -governor since then—changes all around in -the personnel of the staff, I don't doubt. You'll -have no trouble." -</p> - -<p> -Silence between them for a minute, broken -by the captain: -</p> - -<p> -"Our friends at Gib—who are they, and how -will I know them?" -</p> - -<p> -The doctor bent a sudden glance of suspicion -upon the lean face before him. His thick lips -clapped together stubbornly. -</p> - -<p> -"Aha, my dear friend; you are asking questions. -In my time at Berlin the Wilhelmstrasse -taught that all orders and information -came from above—and from there only. -Why——" -</p> - -<p> -"I suppose in default of other information I -may ask the governor to point out the -Wilhelmstrasse men," Woodhouse answered, with a -shrug. "I was told at Berlin I would learn all -that was necessary to me as I went along, -therefore, I supposed——" -</p> - -<p> -"Come—come!" Doctor Koch patted the -other's shoulder, with a heavy joviality. "So -you will. When you arrive at Gib, put up at -the Hotel Splendide, and you will not be long -learning who your friends are. I, for instance, -did not hesitate overmuch to recognize you, -and I am under the eyes of the English here at -every turn, even though I am a naturalized -English citizen—and of undoubted loyalty." He -finished with a booming laugh. -</p> - -<p> -"But Woodhouse; you have arranged a way -to have him drop out of sight before the -<i>Princess Mary</i> sails? There will be no -confusion—no slip-up?" -</p> - -<p> -"Do not fear," the physician reassured. -"Everything will be arranged. His baggage -will leave the Hotel Khedive for the dock -to-morrow night; but it will not reach the dock. -Yours——" -</p> - -<p> -"Will be awaiting the transfer of tags at the -Cap de Liberté—Mouquère's little place," the -captain finished. "But the man himself—you're -not thinking of mur——" -</p> - -<p> -"My dear Nineteen Thirty-two," Doctor Koch -interrupted, lifting protesting hands; "we do -not use such crude methods; they are -dangerous. The real Captain Woodhouse will not -leave Alexandria—by sea, let us say—for many -months. Although I have no doubt he will not -be found in Alexandria the hour the <i>Princess -Mary</i> sails. The papers he carries—the papers -of identity and of transfer from Wady Halfa -to Gibraltar—will be in your hands in plenty -of time. You——" -</p> - -<p> -The doctor stopped abruptly. A hidden -electric buzzer somewhere in the shadowed -room was clucking an alarm. Koch pressed a -button at the side of the operating chair. -There was a sound beyond closed doors of some -one passing through a hallway; the front door -opened and closed. -</p> - -<p> -"Some one at the gate," Doctor Koch explained. -"Cæsar, my playful little Numidian—and -an artist with the Bedouin dagger is -Cæsar—he goes to answer." -</p> - -<p> -Their talk was desultory during the next -minutes. The doctor seemed restless under the -suspense of a pending announcement as to the -late visitor. Finally came a soft tapping on -the hidden door behind Woodhouse. The latter -heard the doctor exchange whispers with the -Numidian in the hallway. Finally, "Show him -into the waiting-room," Koch ordered. He -came back to where the captain was sitting, a -puzzled frown between his eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"An Englishman, Cæsar says—an Englishman, -who insists on seeing me—very -important." Koch bit the end of one stubby thumb -in hurried thought. He suddenly whipped -open the door of one of the instrument cases, -pulled out a stethoscope, and hooked the two -little black receivers into his ears. Then he -turned to Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p> -"Quick! Off with your coat and open your -shirt. You are a patient; I am just examining -you when interrupted. This may be one of -these clumsy English secret-service men, and I -might need your alibi." The sound of an -opening door beyond the folding doors and of -footsteps in the adjoining room. -</p> - -<p> -"You say you are sleepless at night?" -Doctor Koch was talking English. "And you -have a temperature on arising? Hm'm! This -under your tongue, if you please"—he thrust a -clinical thermometer between Woodhouse's -lips; the latter already had his coat off, and was -unbuttoning his shirt. Koch gave him a meaning -glance, and disappeared between the folding -doors, closing them behind him. -</p> - -<p> -The captain, feeling much like a fool with -the tiny glass tube sprouting from his lips, yet -with all his faculties strained to alertness, -awaited developments. If Doctor Koch's -hazard should prove correct and this was an -English secret-service man come to arrest him, -wouldn't suspicion also fall on whomever was -found a visitor in the German spy's house? -Arrest and search; examination of his scarab -pin—that would not be pleasant. -</p> - -<p> -He tried to hear what was being said beyond -the folding doors, but could catch nothing save -the deep rumble of the doctor's occasional bass -and a higher, querulous voice raised in what -might be argument. Had he dared, Woodhouse -would have drawn closer to the crack in -the folding doors so that he could hear what -was passing; every instinct of self-preservation -in him made his ears yearn to dissect this -murmur into sense. But if Doctor Koch should -catch him eavesdropping, embarrassment fatal -to his plans might follow; besides, he had a -feeling that eyes he could not see—perhaps the -unwinking eyes of the Numidian, avid for an -excuse to put into practise his dexterity with -the Bedouin dagger—were on him. -</p> - -<p> -Minutes slipped by. The captain still nursed -the clinical thermometer. The mumble and -muttering continued to sound through the -closed doors. Suddenly the high whine of the -unseen visitor was raised in excitement. Came -clearly through to Woodhouse's ears his -passionate declaration: -</p> - -<p> -"But I tell you you've got to recognize me. -My number's Nineteen Thirty-two. My ticket -was stolen out of the head of my cane -somewhere between Paris and Alexandria. But I -got it all right—got it from the Wilhelmstrasse -direct, with orders to report to Doctor Emil -Koch, in Alexandria!" -</p> - -<p> -Capper! Capper, who was to be betrayed to -the firing squad in Malta, after his Wilhelmstrasse -ticket had passed from his possession. -Capper on the job! -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse hurled every foot pound of his -will to hear into his ears. He caught Koch's -gruff answer: -</p> - -<p> -"Young man, you're talking madness. You're -talking to a loyal British subject. I know -nothing about your Wilhelmstrasse or your -number. If I did not think you were drunk I'd -have you held here, to be turned over to the -military as a spy. Now, go before I change -my mind." -</p> - -<p> -Again the querulous protestation of Capper, -met by the doctor's peremptory order. The -captain heard the front door close. A long -wait, and Doctor Koch's black beard, with the -surmounting eyes of thick glass, appeared at a -parting of the folding doors. Woodhouse, the -tiny thermometer still sticking absurdly from -his mouth, met the basilisk stare of those two -ovals of glass with a coldly casual glance. He -removed the thermometer from between his -lips and read it, with a smile, as if that were -part of playing a game. Still the ghastly stare -from the glass eyes over the bristling beard, -searching—searching. -</p> - -<p> -"Well," Woodhouse said lightly, "no need of -an alibi evidently." -</p> - -<p> -Doctor Koch stepped into the room with the -lightness of a cat, walked to a desk drawer at -one side, and fumbled there a second, his back -to his guest. When he turned he held a -short-barreled automatic at his hip; the muzzle -covered the shirt-sleeved man in the chair. -</p> - -<p> -"Much need—for an alibi—from you!" -Doctor Koch croaked, his voice dry and flat -with rage. "Much need, Mister Nineteen -Thirty-two. Commence your explanation -immediately, for this minute my temptation is -strong—very strong—to shoot you for the dog -you are." -</p> - -<p> -"Is this—ah, customary?" Woodhouse -twiddled the tiny mercury tube between his -fingers and looked unflinchingly at the small -round mouth of the automatic. "Do you make -a practise of consulting a—friend with a -revolver at your hip?" -</p> - -<p> -"You heard—what was said in there!" Koch's -forehead was curiously ridged and -flushed with much blood. -</p> - -<p> -"Did you ask me to listen? Surely, my dear -Doctor, you have provided doors that are -sound-proof. If I may suggest, isn't it about time -that you explain this—this melodrama?" The -captain's voice was cold; his lips were drawn -to a thin line. Koch's big head moved from side -to side with a gesture curiously like that of a -bull about to charge, but knowing not where -his enemy stands. He blurted out: -</p> - -<p> -"For your information, if you did not -overhear: An Englishman comes just now to -address me familiarly as of the Wilhelmstrasse. -He comes to say he was sent to report to me; -that his number in the Wilhelmstrasse is -nineteen thirty-two—nineteen thirty-two, -remember; and I am to give him orders. Please -explain that before I pull this trigger." -</p> - -<p> -"He showed you his number—his ticket, -then?" Woodhouse added this parenthetically. -</p> - -<p> -"The man said his ticket had been stolen -from him some time after he left Paris—stolen -from the head of his cane, where he had it -concealed. But the number was nineteen -thirty-two." The doctor voiced this last doggedly. -</p> - -<p> -"You have, of course, had this man followed," -the other put in. "You have not let him leave -this house alone." -</p> - -<p> -"Cæsar was after him before he left the -garden gate—naturally. But——" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse held up an interrupting hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon me, Doctor Koch; did you get this -fellow's name?" -</p> - -<p> -"He refused to give it—said I wouldn't know -him, anyway." -</p> - -<p> -"Was he an undersized man, very thin, -sparse hair, and a face showing dissipation?" -Woodhouse went on. "Nervous, jerky way of -talking—fingers to his mouth, as if to feel his -words as they come out—brandy or wine -breath? Can't you guess who he was?" -</p> - -<p> -"I guess nothing." -</p> - -<p> -"The <i>target</i>!" -</p> - -<p> -At the word Louisa had used in describing -Capper to Woodhouse, Koch's face underwent -a change. He lowered his pistol. -</p> - -<p> -"Ach!" he said. "The man they are to -arrest. And you have the number." -</p> - -<p> -"That was Capper—Capper, formerly of the -Belgian office—kicked out for drunkenness. -One time he sold out Downing Street in the -matter of the Lord Fisher letters; you remember -the scandal when they came to light—his -majesty, the kaiser's, Kiel speech referring to -them. He is a good stalking horse." -</p> - -<p> -Koch's suspicion had left him. Still gripping -the automatic, he sat down on the edge of the -operating chair, regarding the other man -respectfully. -</p> - -<p> -"Come—come, Doctor Koch; you and I can -not continue longer at cross-purposes." The -captain spoke with terse displeasure. "This -man Capper showed you nothing to prove his -claims, yet you come back to this room and -threaten my life on the strength of a -drunkard's bare word. What his mission is you -know; how he got that number, which is the -number I have shown you on my ticket from -the Wilhelmstrasse—you understand how such -things are managed. I happen to know, however, -because it was my business to know, that -Capper left Marseilles for Malta aboard <i>La -Vendée</i> four days ago; he was not expected to -go beyond Malta." -</p> - -<p> -Koch caught him up: "But the fellow told -me his boat didn't stop at Malta—was warned -by wireless to proceed at all speed to Alexandria, -for fear of the <i>Breslau</i>, known to be in -the Adriatic." Woodhouse spread out his -hands with a gesture of finality. -</p> - -<p> -"There you are! Capper finds himself -stranded in Alexandria, knows somehow of -your position as a man of the Wilhelmstrasse—such -things can not be hid from the underground -workers; comes here to explain himself -to you and excuse himself for the loss of his -number. Is there anything more to be said -except that we must keep a close watch on -him?" -</p> - -<p> -The physician rose and paced the room, his -hands clasped behind his back. The automatic -bobbed against the tails of his long coat as he -walked. After a minute's restless striding, he -broke his step before the desk, jerked open the -drawer, and dropped the weapon in it. Back to -where Woodhouse was sitting he stalked and -held out his right hand stiffly. -</p> - -<p> -"Your pardon, Number Nineteen Thirty-two! -For my suspicion I apologize. But, you -see my position—a very delicate one." Woodhouse -rose, grasped the doctor's hand, and -wrung it heartily. -</p> - -<p> -"And now," he said, "to keep this fellow -Capper in sight until the <i>Princess Mary</i> sails -and I aboard her as Captain Woodhouse, of -Wady Halfa. The man might trip us all up." -</p> - -<p> -"He will not; be sure of that," Koch growled, -helping Woodhouse into his coat and leading -the way to the folding doors. "I will have -Cæsar attend to him the minute he comes back -to report where Capper is stopping." -</p> - -<p> -"Until when?" the captain asked, pausing -at the gate, to which Koch had escorted him. -</p> - -<p> -"Here to-morrow night at nine," the doctor -answered, and the gate shut behind him. -Captain Woodhouse, alone under the shadowing -trees of Queen's Terrace, drew in a long breath, -shook his shoulders and started for the -station and the midnight train to Alexandria. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap05"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER V -<br /> -A FERRET -</h3> - -<p> -Consider the mental state of Mr. Billy -Capper as he sank into a seat on the -midnight suburban from Ramleh to Alexandria. -Even to the guard, unused to particular -observation of his passengers save as to their -possible propensity for trying to beat their fares, -the bundle of clothes surmounted by a rusty -brown bowler which huddled under the sickly -light of the second-class carriage bespoke either -a candidate for a plunge off the quay or a -"bloomer" returning from his wassailing. But -the eyes of the man denied this latter hypothesis; -sanity was in them, albeit the merciless -sanity that refuses an alternative when fate -has its victim pushed into a corner. So -submerged was Capper under the flood of his own -bitter cogitations that he had not noticed the -other two passengers boarding the train at the -little tiled station—a tall, quietly dressed white -man and a Numidian with a cloak thrown over -his white livery. The latter had faded like a -shadow into the third-class carriage behind the -one in which Capper rode. -</p> - -<p> -Here was Capper—poor old Hardluck Billy -Capper—floored again, and just when the tide -of bad fortune was on the turn; so ran the -minor strain of self-pity under the brown -bowler. A failure once more, and through no -fault of his own. No, no! Hadn't he been -ready to deliver the goods? Hadn't he come all -the way down here from Berlin, faithful to his -pledge to Louisa, the girl in the Wilhelmstrasse, -ready and willing to embark on that important -mission of which he was to be told by Doctor -Emil Koch? And what happens? Koch turns -him into the street like a dog; threatens to have -him before the military as a spy if he doesn't -make himself scarce. Koch refuses even to -admit he'd ever heard of the Wilhelmstrasse. -Clever beggar! A jolly keen eye he's got for -his own skin; won't take a chance on being -betrayed into the hands of the English, even when -he ought to see that a chap's honest when he -comes and tells a straight story about losing -that silly little bit of paper with his working -number on it. What difference if he can't -produce the ticket when he has the number pat on -the tip of his tongue, and is willing to risk his -own life to give that number to a stranger? -</p> - -<p> -Back upon the old perplexity that had kept -Capper's brain on strain ever since the first day -aboard <i>La Vendée</i>—who had lifted his ticket, -and when was it done? The man recalled, for -the hundredth time, his awakening aboard the -French liner—what a horror that first morning -was, with the ratty little surgeon feeding a -fellow aromatic spirits of ammonia like porridge! -Capper, in this mood of detached review, saw -himself painfully stretching out his arm from -his bunk to grasp his stick the very first -minute he was alone in the stateroom; the crooked -handle comes off under his turning, and the -white wisp of paper is stuck in the hollow of -the stick. Blank paper! -</p> - -<p> -Safe as safe could be had been that little -square of paper Louisa had given him with his -expense money, from the day he left Berlin -until—when? To be sure, he had treated himself -to a little of the grape in Paris and, maybe, -in Marseilles; but his brain had been clear -every minute. Oh, Capper would have sworn -to that! The whole business of the disappearance -of his Wilhelmstrasse ticket and the -substitution of the blank was simply another low -trick the Capper luck had played on him. -</p> - -<p> -The train rushed through the dark toward -the distant prickly coral bed of lights, and the -whirligig of black despair churned under the -brown bowler. No beginning, no end to the -misery of it. Each new attempt to force a -little light of hope into the blackness of his -plight fetched up at the same dead wall—here -was Billy Capper, hired by the Wilhelmstrasse, -after having been booted out of the secret -offices of England and Belgium—given a show -for his white alley—and he couldn't move a -hand to earn his new salary. Nor could he go -back to Berlin, even though he dared return -with confession of the stolen ticket; Berlin was -no place for an Englishman right now, granting -he could get there. No, he was in the -backwash again—this time in this beastly -half-caste city of Alexandria, and with—how -much was it now?—with a beggarly fifteen -pounds between himself and the beach. -</p> - -<p> -Out of the ruck of Capper's sad reflections -the old persistent call began to make itself -heard before ever the train from Ramleh pulled -into the Alexandria station. That elusive -country of fountains, incense and rose dreams -which can only be approached through the neck -of a bottle spread itself before him alluringly, -inviting him to forgetfulness. And Capper -answered the call. -</p> - -<p> -From the railroad station, he set his course -through narrow villainous streets down to the -district on Pharos, where the deep-water men -of all the world gather to make vivid the nights -of Egypt. Behind him was the faithful -shadow, Cæsar, Doctor Koch's man. The -Numidian trailed like a panther, slinking from -cover to cover, bending his body as the big cat -does to the accommodations of the trail's blinds. -</p> - -<p> -Once Capper found himself in a blind alley, -turned and strode out of it just in time to bump -heavily into the unsuspected pursuer. Instantly -a hem of the Numidian's cloak was lifted -to screen his face, but not before the sharp eyes -of the Englishman had seen and recognized it. -A tart smile curled the corners of Capper's -mouth as he passed on down the bazaar-lined -street to the Tavern of Thermopylæ, at the next -corner. So old Koch was taking precautions, -eh? Well, Capper, for one, could hardly blame -him; who wouldn't, under the circumstances? -</p> - -<p> -The Tavern of Thermopylæ was built for -the Billy Cappers of the world—a place of -genial deviltry where every man's gold was -better than his name, and no man asked more -than to see the color of the stranger's money. -Here was gathered as sweet a company of -assassins as one could find from Port Said to -Honmoku, all gentle to fellows of their craft -under the freemasonry of hard liquor. Greeks, -Levantines, Liverpool lime-juicers from the -Cape, leech-eyed Finns from a Russian's -stoke-hole, tanned ivory runners from the forbidden -lands of the African back country—all that -made Tyre and Sidon infamous in Old Testament -police records was represented there. -</p> - -<p> -Capper called for an absinth dripper and -established himself in a deserted corner of the -smoke-filled room. There was music, of sorts, -and singing; women whose eyes told strange -stories, and whose tongues jumped nimbly over -three or four languages, offered their -companionship to those who needed company with -their drink. But Billy Capper ignored the -music and closed his ears to the sirens; he knew -who was his best cup companion. -</p> - -<p> -The thin green blood of the wormwood drip-dripped -down on to the ice in Capper's glass, -coloring it with a rime like moss. He watched -it, fascinated, and when he sipped the cold -sicky-sweet liquor he was eager as a child to -see how the pictures the absinth drew on the -ice had been changed by the draft. Sip—sip; -a soothing numbness came to the tortured -nerves. Sip—sip; the clouds of doubt and -self-pity pressing down on his brain began to shred -away. He saw things clearly now; everything -was sharp and clear as the point of an icicle. -</p> - -<p> -He reviewed, with new zest, his recent -experiences, from the night he met Louisa in the -Café Riche up to his interview with Doctor -Koch. Louisa—that girl with the face of a fine -animal and a heart as cold as carved amethyst; -why had she been so willing to intercede for -Billy Capper with her superiors in the -Wilhelmstrasse and procure him a number and a -mission to Alexandria? For his information -regarding the Anglo-Belgian understanding? -But she paid for that; the deal was fairly -closed with three hundred marks. Did Louisa -go further and list him in the Wilhelmstrasse -out of the goodness of her heart, or for old -memory's sake? Capper smiled wryly over his -absinth. There was no goodness in Louisa's -heart, and the strongest memory she had was -how nearly Billy Capper had dragged her down -with him in the scandal of the Lord Fisher letters. -</p> - -<p> -How the thin green blood of the wormwood -cleared the mind—made it leap to logical -reasoning! -</p> - -<p> -Why had Louisa instructed him to leave -Marseilles by the steamer touching at Malta -when a swifter boat scheduled to go to -Alexandria direct was leaving the French port a -few hours later? Was it that the girl intended -he should get no farther than Malta; that the -English there should—— -</p> - -<p> -Capper laughed like the philosopher who has -just discovered the absolute of life's futility. -The ticket—his ticket from the Wilhelmstrasse -which Louisa had procured for him; Louisa -wanted that for other purposes, and used him -as the dummy to obtain it. She wanted it -before he could arrive at Malta—and she got it -before he left Marseilles. Even Louisa, the -wise, had played without discounting the -Double 0 on the wheel—fate's percentage in -every game; she could not know the <i>Vendée</i> -would be warned from lingering at Malta -because of the exigency of war, and that Billy -Capper would reach Alexandria, after all. -</p> - -<p> -The green logic in the glass carried Capper -along with mathematical exactness of deduction. -As he sipped, his mind became a thing -detached and, looking down from somewhere -high above earth, reviewed the blundering -course of Billy Capper's body from Berlin to -Alexandria—the poor deluded body of a dupe. -With this certitude of logic came the beginnings -of resolve. Vague at first and intangible, then, -helped by the absinth to focus, was this new -determination. Capper nursed it, elaborated -on it, took pleasure in forecasting its -outcome, and viewing himself in the new light of -a humble hero. It was near morning, and the -Tavern of Thermopylæ was well-nigh deserted -when Capper paid his score and blundered -through the early-morning crowd of mixed -races to his hotel. His legs were quite drunk, -but his mind was coldly and acutely sober. -</p> - -<p> -"Very drunk, master," was the report Cæsar, -the Numidian, delivered to Doctor Koch at the -Ramleh villa. The doctor, believing Cæsar to -be a competent judge, chuckled in his beard. -Cæsar was called off from the trail. -</p> - -<p> -Across the street from Doctor Koch's home -on Queen's Terrace was the summer home of a -major of fusileers, whose station was up the -Nile. But this summer it was not occupied. -The major had hurried his family back to -England at the first mutterings of the great war, -and he himself had to stick by his regiment up -in the doubtful Sudan country. Like Doctor -Koch's place, the major's yard was surrounded -by a high wall, over which the fronds of big -palms and flowered shrubs draped themselves. -The nearest villa, aside from the Kochs' across -the street, was a hundred yards away. At -night an arc light, set about thirty feet from -Doctor Koch's gate, marked all the road -thereabouts with sharp blocks of light and shadow. -One lying close atop the wall about the major's -yard, screened by the palms and the heavy -branches of some night-blooming ghost flower, -could command a perfect view of Doctor Koch's -gateway without being himself visible. -</p> - -<p> -At least, so Billy Capper found it on the -night following his visit to the German -physician's and his subsequent communion with -himself at the Tavern of Thermopylæ. Almost -with the falling of the dark, Capper had -stepped off the train at Ramleh station, ferried -himself by boat down the canal that passed -behind the major's home, after careful -reconnoitering, discovered that the tangle of -wildwood about the house was not guarded by a -watchman, and had so achieved his position of -vantage on top of the wall directly opposite -the gateway of No. 32. He was stretched flat. -Through the spaces between the dry fingers -of a palm leaf he could command a good view -of the gate and of the road on either side. Few -pedestrians passed below him; an automobile -or two puffed by; but in the main, Queen's -Terrace was deserted and Capper was alone. It -was a tedious vigil. Capper had no reliance -except his instinct of a spy familiar with spy's -work to assure that he would be rewarded for -his pains. Some sixth sense in him had -prompted him to come thither, sure in the -promise that the night would not be misspent. -A clock somewhere off in the odorous dark -struck the hour twice, and Capper fidgeted. -The hard stone he was lying on cramped him. -</p> - -<p> -The sound of footsteps on the flagged walk -aroused momentary interest. He looked out -through his screen of green and saw a tall -well-knit figure of a man approach the opposite -gate, stop and ring the bell. Instantly -Capper tingled with the hunting fever of his -trade. In the strong light from the arc he -could study minutely the face of the man at the -gate—smoothly shaven, slightly gaunt and -with thin lips above a strong chin. It was a -striking face—one easily remembered. The -gate opened; beyond it Capper saw, for an -instant, the white figure of the Numidian he had -bumped into at the alley's mouth. The gate -closed on both. -</p> - -<p> -Another weary hour for the ferret on the -wall, then something happened that was -reward enough for cramped muscles and taut -nerves. An automobile purred up to the gate; -out of it hopped two men, while a third, tilted -over like one drunk, remained on the rear seat -of the tonneau. One rang the bell. The two -before the gate fidgeted anxiously for it to be -opened. Capper paid not so much heed to them -as to the half-reclining figure in the machine. -It was in strong light. Capper saw, with a -leap of his heart, that the man in the machine -was clothed in the khaki service uniform of -the British army—an officer's uniform he -judged by the trimness of its fitting, though -he could not see the shoulder straps. The -unconscious man was bareheaded and one side of -his face was darkened by a broad trickle of -blood from the scalp. -</p> - -<p> -When the gate opened, there were a few -hurried words between the Numidian and the two -who had waited. All three united in lifting -an inert figure from the car and carrying it -quickly through the gate. Consumed with the -desire to follow them into the labyrinth of the -doctor's yard, yet not daring, Capper remained -plastered to the wall. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse, sitting in the consultation -room with the doctor, heard the front door -open and the scuffle of burdened feet in the -hall. Doctor Koch hopped nimbly to the folding -doors and threw them back. First, the Numidian's -broad back, then, the bent shoulders of -two other men, both illy dressed, came into -view. Between them they carried the form -of a man in officer's khaki. Woodhouse could -not check a fluttering of the muscles in his -cheeks; this was a surprise to him; the doctor -had given no hint of it. -</p> - -<p> -"Good—good!" clucked Koch, indicating that -they should lay their burden on the operating -chair. "Any trouble?" -</p> - -<p> -"None in the least, Herr Doktor," the larger -of the two white men answered. "At the -corner of the warehouse near the docks, where -it is dark—he was going early to the <i>Princess -Mary</i>, and——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, a tap on the head—so?" Koch broke -in, casting a quick glance toward where -Captain Woodhouse had risen from his seat. A -shrewd appraising glance it was, which was -not lost on Woodhouse. He stepped forward -to join the physician by the side of the figure -on the operating chair. -</p> - -<p> -"Our man, Doctor?" he queried casually. -</p> - -<p> -"Your name sponsor," Koch answered, with -a satisfied chuckle; "the original Captain -Woodhouse of his majesty's signal service, -formerly stationed at Wady Halfa." -</p> - -<p> -"Quite so," the other answered in English. -Doctor Koch clapped him on the shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"Perfect, man! You do the Englishman -from the book. It will fool them all." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse shrugged his shoulders in deprecation. -Koch cackled on, as he began to lay -out sponge and gauze bandages on the -glass-topped table by the operating chair: -</p> - -<p> -"You see, I did not tell you of this because—well, -that fellow Capper's coming last night -looked bad; even your explanation did not -altogether convince. So I thought we'd have this -little surprise for you. If you were an -Englishman you'd show it in the face of -this—you couldn't help it. Eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"Possibly not," the captain vouchsafed. "But -what is your plan, Doctor? What are you -going to do with this Captain Woodhouse to -insure his being out of the way while I am in -Gibraltar. I hope no violence—unless necessary." -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing more violent than a violent -headache and some fever," Koch answered. He -was busy fumbling in the unconscious man's -pockets. From the breast pocket of the -uniform jacket he withdrew a wallet, glanced at -its contents, and passed it to the captain. -</p> - -<p> -"Your papers, Captain—the papers of -transfer from Wady Halfa to Gibraltar. Money, -too. I suppose we'll have to take that, also, -to make appearances perfect—robbery following -assault on the wharves." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse pocketed the military papers in -the wallet and laid it down, the money -untouched. The two white aids of Doctor Koch, -who were standing by the folding doors, eyed -the leather folder hungrily. Koch, meanwhile, -had stripped off the jacket from the Englishman -and was rolling up the right sleeve of his -shirt. That done, he brought down from the -top of the glass instrument case a wooden rack -containing several test tubes, stoppled with -cotton. One glass tube he lifted out of the rack -and squinted at its clouded contents against -the light. -</p> - -<p> -"A very handy little thing—very handy." Koch -was talking to himself as much as to -Woodhouse. "A sweet little product of the -Niam Niam country down in Belgian Kongo. -Natives think no more of it than they would -of a water fly's bite; but the white man -is——" -</p> - -<p> -"A virus of some kind?" the other guessed. -</p> - -<p> -"Of my own isolation," Doctor Koch answered -proudly. He scraped the skin on the -victim's arm until the blood came, then dipped -an ivory spatula into the tube of murky gelatine -and transferred what it brought up to the -raw place in the flesh. -</p> - -<p> -"The action is very quick, and may be -violent," he continued. "Our friend here won't -recover consciousness for three days, and he -will be unable to stand on his feet for two -weeks, at least—dizziness, intermittent fever, -clouded memory; he'll be pretty sick." -</p> - -<p> -"But not too sick to communicate with -others," Woodhouse suggested. "Surely——" -</p> - -<p> -"Maybe not too sick, but unable to communicate -with others," Doctor Koch interrupted, -with a booming laugh. "This time to-morrow -night our friend will be well out on the Libyan -Desert, with some ungentle Bedouins for -company. He's bound for Fezzan—and it will be -a long way home without money. Who knows? -Maybe three months." -</p> - -<p> -Very deftly Koch bound up the abrasion on -the Englishman's arm with gauze, explaining -as he worked that the man's desert guardians -would have instructions to remove the bandages -before he recovered his faculties. There -would be nothing to tell the luckless prisoner -more than that he had been kidnaped, robbed -and carried away by tribesmen—a not -uncommon occurrence in lower Egypt. Koch -completed his work by directing his aids to -strip off the rest of the unconscious man's -uniform and clothe him in a nondescript civilian -garb that Cæsar brought into the consultation -room from the mysterious upper regions -of the house. -</p> - -<p> -"Exit Captain Woodhouse of the signal service," -the smiling doctor exclaimed when the -last button of the misfit jacket had been flipped -into its buttonhole, "and enter Captain -Woodhouse of the Wilhelmstrasse." Turning, he -bowed humorously to the lean-faced man beside -him. He nodded his head at Cæsar; the latter -dived into a cupboard at the far end of the -room and brought out a squat flask and glasses, -which he passed around. When the liquor had -been poured, Doctor Koch lifted his glass and -squinted through it with the air of a gentle -satyr. -</p> - -<p> -"Gentlemen, we drink to what will happen -soon on the Rock of Gibraltar!" All downed -the toast gravely. Then the master of the -house jerked his head toward the unconscious -man on the operating chair. Cæsar and the -two white men lifted the limp body and started -with it to the door, Doctor Koch preceding -them to open doors. The muffled chug-chugging -of the auto at the gate sounded almost -at once. -</p> - -<p> -The doctor and Number Nineteen Thirty-two -remained together in the consultation room -for a few minutes, going over, in final review, -the plans that the latter was to put into -execution at the great English stronghold on the -Rock. The captain looked at his watch, found -the hour late, and rose to depart. Doctor Koch -accompanied him to the gate, and stood with -him for a minute under the strong light from -the near-by arc. -</p> - -<p> -"You go direct to the <i>Princess Mary</i>?" he -asked. -</p> - -<p> -"Direct to the <i>Princess Mary</i>," the other -answered. "She is to sail at five o'clock." -</p> - -<p> -"Then God guard you, my friend, on—your -great adventure." They clasped hands, and -the gate closed behind the doctor. -</p> - -<p> -A shadow skipped from the top of the wall -about the major's house across the road. A -shadow dogged the footsteps of the tall -well-knit man who strode down the deserted -Queen's Terrace toward the tiled station by -the tracks. A little more than an hour later, -the same shadow flitted up the gangplank of -the <i>Princess Mary</i> at her berth. When the big -P. & O. liner pulled out at dawn, she carried -among her saloon passengers one registered as -"C. G. Woodhouse, Capt. Sig. Service," and in -her second cabin a "William Capper." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap06"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VI -<br /> -A FUGITIVE -</h3> - -<p> -"No, madam does not know me; but she -must see me. Oh, I know she will see -me. Tell her, please, it is a girl from New -York all alone in Paris who needs her help." -</p> - -<p> -The butler looked again at the card the -visitor had given him. Quick suspicion flashed -into his tired eyes—the same suspicion that -had all Paris mad. -</p> - -<p> -"Ger-son—Mademoiselle Ger-son. That -name, excuse me, if I say it—that name -ees——" -</p> - -<p> -"It sounds German; yes. Haven't I had that -told me a thousand times these last few days?" The -girl's shoulders drooped limply, and she -tried to smile, but somehow failed. "But it's -my name, and I'm an American—been an -American twenty-two years. Please—please!" -</p> - -<p> -"Madam the ambassador's wife; she ees -overwhelm wiz woark." The butler gave the -door an insinuating push. Jane Gerson's -patent-leather boot stopped it. She made a -quick rummage in her bag, and when she -withdrew her hand, a bit of bank paper crinkled -in it. The butler pocketed the note with -perfect legerdemain, smiled a formal thanks and -invited Jane into the dark cool hallway of the -embassy. She dropped on a skin-covered -couch, utterly spent. Hours she had passed -moving, foot by foot, in an interminable line, -up to a little wicket in a steamship office, only -to be told, "Every boat's sold out." Other -grilling hours she had passed similarly before -the express office, to find, at last, that her little -paper booklet of checks was as worthless as a -steamship folder. Food even lacked, because -the money she offered was not acceptable. For -a week she had lived in the seething caldron -that was Paris in war time, harried, buffeted, -trampled and stampeded—a chip on the froth -of madness. This day, the third of August, -found Jane Gerson summoning the last -remnants of her flagging nerve to the supreme -endeavor. Upon her visit to the embassy -depended everything: her safety, the future she -was battling for. But now, with the first -barrier passed, she found herself suddenly faint -and weak. -</p> - -<p> -"Madam the ambassador's wife will see you. -Come!" The butler's voice sounded from afar -off, though Jane saw the gleaming buckles at -his knees very close. The pounding of her -heart almost choked her as she rose to follow -him. Down a long hall and into a richly -furnished drawing-room, now strangely transformed -by the presence of desks, filing cabinets, -and busy girl stenographers; the click of -typewriters and rustle of papers gave the -air of an office at top pressure. The butler -showed Jane to a couch near the portières and -withdrew. From the tangle of desks at the -opposite end of the room, a woman with a -kindly face crossed, with hand extended. Jane -rose, grasped the hand and squeezed convulsively. -</p> - -<p> -"You are——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, my dear, I am the wife of the -ambassador. Be seated and tell me all your -troubles. We are pretty busy here, but not too -busy to help—if we can." -</p> - -<p> -Jane looked into the sympathetic eyes of the -ambassador's wife, and what she found there -was like a draft of water to her parched soul. -The elder woman, smiling down into the white -face, wherein the large brown eyes burned -unnaturally bright, saw a trembling of the lips -instantly conquered by a rallying will, and she -patted the small hand hearteningly. -</p> - -<p> -"Dear lady," Jane began, almost as a little -child, "I must get out of Paris, and I've come -to you to help me. Every way is closed except through you." -</p> - -<p> -"So many hundreds like you, poor girl. All -want to get back to the home country, and we -are so helpless to aid every one." The lady -of the embassy thought, as she cast a swift -glance over the slender shoulders and diminutive -figure beneath them, that here, indeed, was -a babe in the woods. The blatant, self-assured -tourist demanding assistance from her country's -representative as a right she knew; also -the shifty, sloe-eyed demi-vierge who wanted -no questions asked. But such a one as this -little person—— -</p> - -<p> -"You see, I am a buyer for Hildebrand's -store in New York." Jane was rushing breathlessly -to the heart of her tragedy. "This is my -very first trip as buyer, and—it will be my last -unless I can get through the lines and back to -New York. I have seventy of the very last -gowns from Poiret, from Paquin and Worth—you -know what they will mean in the old town -back home—and I must—just simply must get -them through. You understand! With them, -Hildebrand can crow over every other gown -shop in New York. He can be supreme, and I -will be—well, I will be made!" -</p> - -<p> -The kindly eyes were still smiling, and the -woman's heart, which is unchanged even in -the breast of an ambassador's wife, was leaping -to the magic lure of that simple word—gowns. -</p> - -<p> -"But—but the banks refuse to give me a -cent on my letter of credit. The express office -says my checks, which I brought along for -incidentals, can not be cashed. The steamship -companies will not sell a berth in the steerage, -even, out of Havre or Antwerp or -Southampton—everything gobbled up. You can't get -trunks on an aeroplane, or I'd try that. I -just don't know where to turn, and so I've -come to you. You must know some way out." -</p> - -<p> -Jane unconsciously clasped her hands in -supplication, and upon her face, flushed now with -the warmth of her pleading, was the dawning -of hope. It was as if the girl were assured -that once the ambassador's wife heard her -story, by some magic she could solve the -difficulties. The older woman read this trust, and -was touched by it. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you thought of catching a boat at -Gibraltar?" she asked. "They are not so -crowded; people haven't begun to rush out of -Italy yet." -</p> - -<p> -"But nobody will honor my letter of credit," -Jane mourned. "And, besides, all the trains -south of Paris are given up to the mobilization. -Nobody can ride on them but soldiers." The -lady of the embassy knit her brows for a -few minutes while Jane anxiously scanned her -face. Finally she spoke: -</p> - -<p> -"The ambassador knows a gentleman—a -large-hearted American gentleman here in -Paris—who has promised his willingness to -help in deserving cases by advancing money -on letters of credit. And with money there is -a way—just a possible way—of getting to -Gibraltar. Leave your letter of credit with -me, my dear; go to the police station in the -district where you live and get your pass -through the lines, just as a precaution against -the possibility of your being able to leave -to-night. Then come back here and see me at -four o'clock. Perhaps—just a chance——" -</p> - -<p> -Hildebrand's buyer seized the hands of the -embassy's lady ecstatically, tumbled words of -thanks crowding to her lips. When she went -out into the street, the sun was shining as it -had not shone for her for a dreary terrible -week. -</p> - -<p> -At seven o'clock that night a big Roman-nosed -automobile, long and low and powerful -as a torpedo on wheels, pulled up at the door -of the American embassy. Two bulky osier -baskets were strapped on the back of its -tonneau; in the rear seat were many rugs. A -young chap with a sharp shrewd face—an -American—sat behind the wheel. -</p> - -<p> -The door of the embassy opened, and Jane -Gerson, swathed in veils, and with a gray -duster buttoned tight about her, danced out; -behind her followed the ambassador, the lady -of the embassy and a bevy of girls, the -volunteer aids of the overworked representative's -staff. Jane's arms went about the ambassador's -wife in an impulsive hug of gratitude and -good-by; the ambassador received a hearty -handshake for his "God speed you!" A waving -of hands and fluttering of handkerchiefs, -and the car leaped forward. Jane Gerson -leaned far over the back, and, through cupped -hands, she shouted: "I'll paint Hildebrand's -sign on the Rock of Gibraltar!" -</p> - -<p> -Over bridges and through outlying faubourgs -sped the car until the Barrier was -gained. There crossed bayonets denying passage, -an officer with a pocket flash pawing over -pass and passport, a curt dismissal, and once -more the motor purred its speed song, and the -lights of the road flashed by. More picket -lines, more sprouting of armed men from the -dark, and flashing of lights upon official -signatures. On the heights appeared the -hump-shouldered bastions of the great outer forts, -squatting like huge fighting beasts of the night, -ready to spring upon the invader. Bugles -sounded; the white arms of search-lights swung -back and forth across the arc of night in their -ceaseless calisthenics; a murmuring and stamping -of many men and beasts was everywhere. -</p> - -<p> -The ultimate picket line gained and passed, -the car leaped forward with the bound of some -freed animal, its twin headlights feeling far -ahead the road to the south. Behind lay Paris, -the city of dread. Ahead—far ahead, where -the continent is spiked down with a rock, -Gibraltar. Beyond that the safe haven from -this madness of the millions—America. -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson stretched out her arms to the -vision and laughed shrilly. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap07"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VII -<br /> -THE HOTEL SPLENDIDE -</h3> - -<p> -Mr. Joseph Almer, proprietor of the -Hotel Splendide, on Gibraltar's Waterport -Street, was alone in his office, busy over -his books. The day was August fifth. The -night before the cable had flashed word to -General Sir George Crandall, Governor-general -of the Rock, that England had hurled herself -into the great war. But that was no concern -of Mr. Joseph Almer except as it affected the -hotel business; admittedly it did bring -complications there. -</p> - -<p> -A sleek well-fed Swiss he was; one whose -neutrality was publicly as impervious as the -rocky barriers of his home land. A bland eye -and a suave professional smile were the -ever-present advertisements of urbanity on Joseph -Almer's chubby countenance. He spoke with -an accent that might have got him into -trouble with the English masters of the Rock had -they not known that certain cantons in -Switzerland occupy an unfortunate contiguity with -Germany, and Almer, therefore, was hardly -to be blamed for an accident of birth. From -a window of his office, he looked out on crooked -Waterport Street, where all the world of the -Mediterranean shuffled by on shoes, slippers -and bare feet. Just across his desk was the -Hotel Splendide's reception room—a sad -retreat, wherein a superannuated parlor set of -worn red plush tried to give the lie to the -reflection cast back at it by the dingy -gold-framed mirror over the battered fireplace. -Gaudy steamship posters and lithographs of the -Sphinx and kindred tourists' delights were the -walls' only decorations. Not even the potted -palm, which is the hotel man's cure-all, was -there to screen the interior of the -office-reception room from the curious eyes of the -street, just beyond swinging glass doors. -Joseph Almer had taken poetic license with the -word "splendide"; but in Gibraltar that is -permissible; necessary, in fact. Little there lives -up to its reputation save the Rock itself. -</p> - -<p> -It was four in the afternoon. The street -outside steamed with heat, and the odors that -make Gibraltar a lasting memory were at their -prime of distillation. The proprietor of the -Splendide was nodding over his books. A light -footfall on the boards beyond the desk roused -him. A girl with two cigar boxes under her -arm slipped, like a shadow, up to the desk. She -was dressed in the bright colors of Spain, -claret-colored skirt under a broad Romany -sash, and with thin white waist, open at rounded -throat. A cheap tortoise-shell comb held her -coils of chestnut hair high on her head. Louisa -of the Wilhelmstrasse; but not the same Louisa—the -sophisticated Louisa of the Café Riche -and the Winter Garden. A timid little cigar -maker she was, here in Gibraltar. -</p> - -<p> -"Louisa!" Almer's head bobbed up on a suddenly -stiffened neck as he whispered her name. -She set her boxes of cigars on the desk, opened -them, and as she made gestures to point the -worthiness of her wares, she spoke swiftly, and -in a half whisper: -</p> - -<p> -"All is as we hoped, Almer. He comes on -the <i>Princess Mary</i>—a cablegram from Koch -just got through to-day. I wanted——" -</p> - -<p> -"You mean——" Almer thrust his head forward -in his eagerness, and his eyes were bright -beads. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse—our Captain Woodhouse!" The -girl's voice trembled in exultation. -"And his number—his Wilhelmstrasse -number—is—listen carefully: Nineteen Thirty-two." -</p> - -<p> -"Nineteen Thirty-two," Almer repeated, under -his breath. Then aloud: "On the <i>Princess -Mary</i>, you say?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes; she is already anchored in the straits. -The tenders are coming ashore. He will come -here, for such were his directions in -Alexandria." Louisa started to move toward the street -door. -</p> - -<p> -"But you," Almer stopped her; "the English -are making a round-up of suspects on the -Rock. They will ask questions—perhaps -arrest——" -</p> - -<p> -"Me? No, I think not. Just because I was -away from Gibraltar for six weeks and have -returned so recently is not enough to rouse -suspicion. Haven't I been Josepha, the cigar -girl, to every Tommy in the garrison for -nearly a year? No—no, señor; you are wrong. -These are the purest cigars made south of -Madrid. Indeed, señor." -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-102"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-102.jpg" alt="'Haven't I been Josepha for nearly a year?'" /> -<br /> -"Haven't I been Josepha for nearly a year?" -</p> - -<p> -The girl had suddenly changed her tone to -one of professional wheedling, for she saw -three entering the door. Almer lifted his voice -angrily: -</p> - -<p> -"Josepha, your mother is substituting with -these cigars. Take them back and tell her if -I catch her doing this again it means the cells -for her." -</p> - -<p> -The cigar girl bowed her head in simulated -fright, sped past the incoming tourists, and -lost herself in the shifting crowd on the street. -Almer permitted himself to mutter angrily as -he turned back to his books. -</p> - -<p> -"You see, mother? See that hotel keeper -lose his temper and tongue-lash that poor girl? -Just what I tell you—these foreigners don't -know how to be polite to ladies." -</p> - -<p> -Henry J. Sherman—"yes, sir, of Kewanee, -Illynoy"—mopped his bald pink dome and -glared truculently at the insulting back of -Joseph Almer. Mrs. Sherman, the lady of direct -impulses who had contrived to stare Captain -Woodhouse out of countenance in the Winter -Garden not long back, cast herself despondently -on the decrepit lounge and appeared to need -little invitation to be precipitated into a crying -spell. Her daughter Kitty, a winsome little -slip, stood behind her, arms about the mother's -neck, and her hands stroking the maternal -cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -"There—there, mother; everything'll come -out right," Kitty vaguely assured. Mrs. Sherman, -determined to have no eye for the cloud's -silver lining, rocked back and forth on the sofa -and gave voice to her woe: -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, we'll never see Kewanee again. I know -it! I know it! With everybody pushing and -shoving us away from the steamers—everybody -refusing to cash our checks, and all -this fighting going on somewhere up among -the Belgians——" The lady from Kewanee -pulled out the stopper of her grief, and the -tears came copiously. Mr. Sherman, who had -made an elaborate pretense of studying a -steamer guide he found on the table, looked up -hurriedly and blew his nose loudly in sympathy. -</p> - -<p> -"Cheer up, mother. Even if this first trip -of ours—this 'Grand Tower,' as the guide-books -call it—has been sorta tough, we had one -compensation anyway. We saw the Palace of -Peace at the Hague before the war broke out. -Guess they're leasing it for a skating rink now, -though." -</p> - -<p> -"How can you joke when we're in such a -fix? He-Henry, you ne-never do take things -seriously!" -</p> - -<p> -"Why not joke, mother? Only thing you can -do over here you don't have to pay for. Cheer -up! There's the <i>Saxonia</i> due here from Naples -some time soon. Maybe we can horn a way up -her gangplank. Consul says——" -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Sherman looked up from her handkerchief -with withering scorn. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me a way we can get aboard any ship -without having the money to pay our passage. -Tell me that, Henry Sherman!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, we've been broke before, mother," her -spouse answered cheerily, rocking himself on -heels and toes. "Remember when we were -first married and had that little house on -Liberty Street—the newest house in Kewanee it -was; and we didn't have a hired girl, then, -mother. But we come out all right, didn't -we?" He patted his daughter's shoulder and -winked ponderously. "Come on, girls and -boys, we'll go look over those Rock Chambers -the English hollowed out. We can't sit in our -room and mope all day." -</p> - -<p> -The gentleman who knew Kewanee was -making for the door when Almer, the suave, -came out from behind his desk and stopped -him with a warning hand. -</p> - -<p> -"I am afraid the gentleman can not see the -famous Rock Chambers," he purred. "This is -war time—since yesterday, you know. Tourists -are not allowed in the fortifications." -</p> - -<p> -"Like to see who'd stop me!" Henry J. Sherman -drew himself up to his full five feet seven -and frowned at the Swiss. Almer rubbed his -hands. -</p> - -<p> -"A soldier—with a gun, most probably, sir." -</p> - -<p> -Mrs. Sherman rose and hurried to her husband's -side, in alarm. -</p> - -<p> -"Henry—Henry! Don't you go and get -arrested again! Remember that last time—the -Frenchman at that Bordeaux town." Sherman -allowed discretion to soften his valor. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, anyway"—he turned again to the -proprietor—"they'll let us see that famous signal -tower up on top of the Rock. Mother, they -say from that tower up there, they can keep -tabs on a ship sixty miles away. Fellow down -at the consulate was telling me just this -morning that's the king-pin of the whole works. -Harbor's full of mines and things; electric -switch in the signal tower. Press a switch up -there, and everything in the harbor—Blam!" He -shot his hands above his head to denote the -cataclysm. Almer smiled sardonically and -drew the Illinois citizen to one side. -</p> - -<p> -"I would give you a piece of advice," he said -in a low voice. "It is——" -</p> - -<p> -"Say, proprietor; you don't charge for advice, -do you?" Sherman regarded him quizzically. -</p> - -<p> -"It is this," Almer went on, unperturbed: -"If I were you I would not talk much about -the fortifications of the Rock. Even talk -is—ah—dangerous if too much indulged." -</p> - -<p> -"Huh! I guess you're right," said Sherman -thoughtfully. "You see—we don't know much -about diplomacy out where I come from. -Though that ain't stopping any of the -Democrats from going abroad in the Diplomatic -Service as fast as Bryan'll take 'em." -</p> - -<p> -Interruption came startlingly. A sergeant -and three soldiers with guns swung through -the open doors from Waterport Street. Gun -butts struck the floor with a heavy thud. -The sergeant stepped forward and saluted -Almer with a businesslike sweep of hand to -visor. -</p> - -<p> -"See here, landlord!" the sergeant spoke up -briskly. "Fritz, the barber, lives here, does he -not?" Almer nodded. "We want him. Find -him in the barber shop, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant turned and gave directions to -the guard. They tramped through a swinging -door by the side of the desk while the -Shermans, parents and daughter alike, looked on, -with round eyes. In less than a minute, the -men in khaki returned, escorting a quaking -man in white jacket. The barber, greatly -flustered, protested in English strongly -reminiscent of his fatherland. -</p> - -<p> -"Orders to take you, Fritz," the sergeant -explained not unkindly. -</p> - -<p> -"But I haf done nothing," the barber cried. -"For ten years I haf shaved you. You know -I am a harmless old German." The sergeant -shrugged. -</p> - -<p> -"I fancy they think you are working for the -Wilhelmstrasse, Fritz, and they want to have -you where they can keep their eyes on you. -Sorry, you know." -</p> - -<p> -The free-born instincts of Henry J. Sherman -would not be downed longer. He had witnessed -the little tragedy of the German barber -with growing ire, and now he stepped up to -the sergeant truculently. -</p> - -<p> -"Seems to me you're not giving Fritz here -a square deal, if you want to know what I -think," he blustered. "Now, in my -country——" The sergeant turned on him sharply. -</p> - -<p> -"Who are you—and what are you doing in -Gib?" he snapped. A moan from Mrs. Sherman, -who threw herself in her daughter's arms. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-110"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-110.jpg" alt="'Who are you?' snapped the sergeant." /> -<br /> -"Who are you?" snapped the sergeant. -</p> - -<p> -"Kitty, your father's gone and got himself -arrested again!" -</p> - -<p> -"Who am I?" Sherman echoed with dignity. -"My name, young fellow, is Henry J. Sherman, -and I live in Kewanee, Illynoy. I'm an -American citizen, and you can't——" -</p> - -<p> -"Your passports—quick!" The sergeant -held out his hand imperiously. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that's all right, young fellow; I've got -'em, all right." Kewanee's leading light -began to fumble in the spacious breast pocket of -his long-tailed coat. As he groped through a -packet of papers and letters, he kept up a -running fire of comment and exposition: -</p> - -<p> -"Had 'em this afternoon, all right. Here; -no, that's my letter of credit. It would buy -Main Street at home, but I can't get a ham -sandwich on it here. This is—no; that's my -only son's little girl, Emmaline, taken the -day she was four years old. Fancy little girl, -eh? Now, that's funny I can't—here's that -list of geegaws I was to buy for my partner -in the Empire Mills, flour and buckwheat. -Guess he'll have to whistle for 'em. Now don't -get impatient, young fellow. This—— Land's -sakes, mother, that letter you gave me to mail, -in Algy-kiras—— Ah, here you are, all proper -and scientific enough as passports go, I guess." -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant whisked the heavily creased -document from Sherman's hand, scanned it -hastily, and gave it back, without a word. The -outraged American tucked up his chin and gave -the sergeant glare for glare. -</p> - -<p> -"If you ever come to Kewanee, young fellow," -he snorted. "I'll be happy to show you -our new jail." -</p> - -<p> -"Close in! March!" commanded the sergeant. -The guard surrounded the hapless barber -and wheeled through the door, their guns -hedging his white jacket about inexorably. -Sherman's hands spread his coat tails wide -apart, and he rocked back and forth on heels -and toes, his eyes smoldering. -</p> - -<p> -"Come on, father"—Kitty had slipped her -hand through her dad's arm, and was imparting -direct strategy in a low voice—"we'll take -mother down the street to look at the shops -and make her forget our troubles. They've -got some wonderful Moroccan bazaars in -town; Baedeker says so." -</p> - -<p> -"Shops, did you say?" Mrs. Sherman perked -up at once, forgetting her grief under the -superior lure. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, mother. Come on, let's go down and -look 'em over." Sherman's good humor was -quite restored. He pinched Kitty's arm in -compliment for her guile. "Maybe they'll let -us look at their stuff without charging -anything; but we couldn't buy a postage stamp, -remember." -</p> - -<p> -They sailed out into the crowded street and -lost themselves amid the scourings of Africa -and south Europe. Almer was alone in the office. -</p> - -<p> -The proprietor fidgeted. He walked to the -door and looked down the street in the -direction of the quays. He pulled his watch from -his pocket and compared it with the blue face -of the Dutch clock on the wall. His pudgy -hands clasped and unclasped themselves behind -his back nervously. An Arab hotel porter and -runner at the docks came swinging through -the front door with a small steamer trunk on -his shoulders, and Almer started forward -expectantly. Behind the porter came a tall -well-knit man, dressed in quiet traveling suit—the -Captain Woodhouse who had sailed from Alexandria -as a passenger aboard the <i>Princess Mary</i>. -</p> - -<p> -He paused for an instant as his eyes met -those of the proprietor. Almer bowed and -hastened behind the desk. Woodhouse stepped up -to the register and scanned it casually. -</p> - -<p> -"A room, sir?" Almer held out a pen invitingly. -</p> - -<p> -"For the night, yes," Woodhouse answered -shortly, and he signed the register. Almer's -eyes followed the strokes of the pen eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, from Egypt, Captain? You were -aboard the <i>Princess Mary</i>, then?" -</p> - -<p> -"From Alexandria, yes. Show me my room, -please. Beastly tired." -</p> - -<p> -The Arab porter darted forward, and Woodhouse -was turning to follow him when he nearly -collided with a man just entering the street -door. It was Mr. Billy Capper. -</p> - -<p> -Both recoiled as their eyes met. Just the -faintest flicker of surprise, instantly -suppressed, tightened the muscles of the captain's -jaws. He murmured a "Beg pardon" and -started to pass. Capper deliberately set -himself in the other's path and, with a wry smile, -held out his hand. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse, I believe." Capper -put a tang of sarcasm, corroding as acid, into -the words. He was still smiling. The other -man drew back and eyed him coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"I do not know you. Some mistake," Woodhouse said. -</p> - -<p> -Almer was moving around from behind the -desk with the soft tread of a cat, his eyes fixed -on the hard-bitten face of Capper. -</p> - -<p> -"Hah! Don't recognize the second-cabin -passengers aboard the <i>Princess Mary</i>, eh?" -Capper sneered. "Little bit discriminating -that way, eh? Well, my name's Capper—Mr. William -Capper. Never heard the name—in -Alexandria; what?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are drunk. Stand aside!" Woodhouse -spoke quietly; his face was very white and -strained. Almer launched himself suddenly -between the two and laid his hands roughly on -Capper's thin shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"Out you go!" he choked in a thick guttural. -"I'll have no loafer insulting guests in my -house." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you won't, won't you? But supposing I -want to take a room here—pay you good English -gold for it. You'll sing a different tune, -then." -</p> - -<p> -"Before I throw you out, kindly leave my -place." By a quick turn, Almer had Capper -facing the door; his grip was iron. The -smaller man tried to walk to the door with -dignity. There he paused and looked back over -his shoulder. -</p> - -<p> -"Remember, Captain Woodhouse," he called -back. "Remember the name against the time -we'll meet again. Capper—Mr. William Capper." -</p> - -<p> -Capper disappeared. Almer came back to -begin profuse apologies to his guest. Woodhouse -was coolly lighting a cigarette. Their -eyes met. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap08"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER VIII -<br /> -CHAFF OF WAR -</h3> - -<p> -Dinner that evening in the faded -dining-room of the Hotel Splendide was in the -way of being a doleful affair for the folk from -Kewanee, aside from Captain Woodhouse, the -only persons at table there. Woodhouse, true -to the continental tradition of exclusiveness, -had isolated himself against possible approach -by sitting at the table farthest from the -Shermans; his back presented an uncompromising -denial of fraternity. As for Mrs. Sherman, -the afternoon's visit to the bazaars had been -anything but a solace, emphasizing, as it did, -their grievous poverty in the midst of a plenty -contemptuous of a mere letter of credit. Henry -J. was wallowing in the lowest depths of -nostalgia; he tortured himself with the reflection -that this was lodge night in Kewanee and he -would not be sitting in his chair. Miss Kitty -contemplated with melancholy the distress of -her parents. -</p> - -<p> -A tall slender youth with tired eyes and -affecting the blasé slouch of the boulevards -appeared in the door and cast about for a choice -of tables. Him Mr. Sherman impaled with a -glance of disapproval which suddenly changed -to wondering recognition. He dropped his -fork and jumped to his feet. -</p> - -<p> -"Bless me, mother, if it isn't Willy Kimball -from old Kewanee!" Sherman waved his napkin -at the young man, summoning him in the -name of Kewanee to come and meet the home -folks. The tired eyes lighted perceptibly, and -a lukewarm smile played about Mr. Kimball's -effeminate mouth as he stepped up to the table. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Mrs. Sherman—and Kitty! And you, -Mr. Sherman—charmed!" He accepted the -proffered seat by the side of Kitty, receiving -their hearty hails with languid politeness. -With the sureness of English restraint, -Mr. Willy Kimball refused to become excited. He -was of the type of exotic Americans who try -to forget grandpa's corn-fed hogs and -grandma's hand-churned butter. His speech was of -Rotten Row and his clothes Piccadilly. -</p> - -<p> -"Terrible business, this!" The youth fluttered -his hands feebly. "All this harrying -about and peeping at passports by every silly -officer one meets. I'm afraid I'll have to go -over to America until it's all over—on my way -now, in fact." -</p> - -<p> -"Afraid!" Sherman sniffed loudly, and appraised -Mr. Kimball's tailoring with a disapproving -eye. "Well, Willy, it would be too bad -if you had to go back to Kewanee after your -many years in Paris, France; now, wouldn't it?" -</p> - -<p> -Kimball turned to the women for sympathy. -"Reserved a compartment to come down from -Paris. Beastly treatment. Held up at every -city—other people crowded in my apartment, -though I'd paid to have it alone, of -course—soldier chap comes along and seizes my valet -and makes him join the colors and all that -sort——" -</p> - -<p> -"Huh! Your father managed to worry -along without a val-lay, and he was respected -in Kewanee." This in disgust from Henry J. -</p> - -<p> -Kitty flashed a reproving glance at her -father and deftly turned the expatriate into a -recounting of his adventures. Under her -unaffected lead the youth, who shuddered -inwardly at the appellation of "Willy," thawed -considerably, and soon there was an animated -swapping of reminiscences of the Great -Terror—hours on end before the banks and express -offices, dodging of police impositions, scrambling -for steamer accommodations—all that -went to compose the refugee Americans' great -epic of August, 1914. -</p> - -<p> -Sherman took pride in his superior adventures: -"Five times arrested between Berlin -and Gibraltar, and what I said to that Dutchman -on the Swiss frontier was enough to make -his hair curl." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell you what, Willy: you come on back -to Kewanee with us, and mother and you'll -lecture before the Thursday Afternoon Ladies' -Literary Club," Sherman boomed, with a -hearty blow of the hand between Willy's -shoulder blades. "I'll have Ed Porter announce it -in advance in the <i>Daily Enterprise</i>, and we'll -have the whole town there to listen. 'Ezra -Kimball's Boy Tells Thrilling Tale of War's -Alarms.' That's the way the head-lines'll read -in the <i>Enterprise</i> next week." -</p> - -<p> -The expatriate shivered and tried to smile. -</p> - -<p> -"We'll let mother do the lecturing," Kitty -came to his rescue. "'How to Live in Europe -on a Letter of Discredit.' That will have all -the gossips of Kewanee buzzing, mother." -</p> - -<p> -The meal drew to a close happily in contrast -to its beginning. Mrs. Sherman and her -daughter rose to pass out into the reception -room. Sherman and Kimball lingered. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah-h, Willy——" -</p> - -<p> -"Mr. Sherman——" -</p> - -<p> -Both began in unison, each somewhat -furtive and shamefaced. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you any money?" The queries were -voiced as one. For an instant confusion; then -the older man looked up into the younger's -face—a bit flushed it was—and guffawed. -</p> - -<p> -"Not a postage stamp, Willy! I guess we're -both beggars, and if mother and Kitty didn't -have five trunks between them this Swiss -holdup man who says he's proprietor of this -way-station hotel wouldn't trust us for a fried egg." -</p> - -<p> -"Same here," admitted Kimball. "I'm badly -bent." -</p> - -<p> -"They can't keep us down—us Americans!" -Sherman cheered, taking the youth's arm and -piloting him out into the reception room. -"We'll find a way out if we have to cable for -a warship to come and get us." -</p> - -<p> -Just as Sherman and Kimball emerged from -the dining-room, there was a diversion out -beyond the glass doors on Waterport Street. A -small cart drew up; from its seat jumped a -young woman in a duster and with a heavy -automobile veil swathed under her chin. To -the Arab porter who had bounded out to the -street she gave directions for the removal from -the cart of her baggage, two heavy suit-cases -and two ponderous osier baskets. These latter -she was particularly tender of, following them -into the hotel's reception room and directing -where they should be put before the desk. -</p> - -<p> -The newcomer was Jane Gerson, Hildebrand's -buyer, at the end of her gasoline flight -from Paris. Cool, capable, self-reliant as on -the night she saw the bastions of the capital's -outer forts fade under the white spikes of the -search-lights, Jane strode up the desk to face -the smiling Almer. -</p> - -<p> -"Is this a fortress or a hotel?" she challenged. -</p> - -<p> -"A hotel, lady, a hotel," Almer purred. "A -nice room—yes. Will the lady be with us -long?" -</p> - -<p> -"Heaven forbid! The lady is going to be -on the first ship leaving for New York. And -if there are no ships, I'll look over the stock -of coal barges you have in your harbor." She -seized a pen and dashed her signature on the -register. The Shermans had pricked up their -ears at the newcomer's first words. Now -Henry J. pressed forward, his face glowing welcome. -</p> - -<p> -"An American—a simon-pure citizen of the -United States—I thought so. Welcome to the -little old Rock!" He took both the girl's hands -impulsively and pumped them. Mrs. Sherman, -Kitty and Willy Kimball crowded around, and -the clatter of voices was instantaneous: "By -auto from Paris; goodness me!" "Not a thing -to eat for three days but rye bread!" "From -Strassburg to Luneville in a farmer's wagon!" Each -in a whirlwind of ejaculation tried to -outdo the other's story of hardship and privation. -</p> - -<p> -The front doors opened again, and the -sergeant and guard who had earlier carried off -Fritz, the barber, entered. Again gun butts -thumped ominously. Jane looked over her -shoulder at the khaki-coated men, and confided -in the Shermans: -</p> - -<p> -"I think that man's been following me ever -since I landed from the ferry." -</p> - -<p> -"I have," answered the sergeant, stepping -briskly forward and saluting. "You are a -stranger on the Rock. You come here -from——" -</p> - -<p> -"From Paris, by motor, to the town across -the bay; then over here on the ferry," the girl -answered promptly. "What about it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Your name?" -</p> - -<p> -"Jane Gerson. Yes, yes, it sounds German, -I know. But that's not my fault. I'm an -American—a red-hot American, too, for the -last two weeks." -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant's face was wooden. -</p> - -<p> -"Where are you going?" -</p> - -<p> -"To New York, on the <i>Saxonia</i>, just as soon -as I can. And the British army can't stop me." -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed!" The sergeant permitted himself -a fleeting smile. "From Paris by motor, eh? -Your passports, please." -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't any," Jane retorted, with a shade -of defiance. "They were taken from me in -Spain, just over the French border, and were -not returned." -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant raised his eyebrows in surprise -not unmixed with irony. He pointed to the -two big osier baskets, demanding to know -what they contained. -</p> - -<p> -"Gowns—the last gowns made in Paris before -the crash. Fashion's last gasp. I am a -buyer of gowns for Hildebrand's store in New -York." -</p> - -<p> -Ecstatic gurgles of pleasure from Mrs. Sherman -and her daughter greeted this announcement. -They pressed about the baskets and -regarded them lovingly. -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant pushed them away and tried -to throw back the covers. -</p> - -<p> -"Open your baggage—all of it!" he commanded -snappishly. -</p> - -<p> -Jane, explaining over her shoulder to the -women, stooped to fumble with the hasps. -</p> - -<p> -"Seventy of the darlingest gowns—the very -last Paul Poiret and Paquin and Worth made -before they closed shop and marched away -with their regiments. You shall see every one -of them." -</p> - -<p> -"Hurry, please, my time's limited!" the -sergeant barked. -</p> - -<p> -"I should think it would be—you're so -charming," Jane flung back over her shoulder, -and she raised the tops of the baskets. The -other women pushed forward with subdued -coos. -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant plunged his hand under a mass -of colored fluffiness, groped for a minute, and -brought forth a long roll of heavy paper. With -a fierce mien, he began to unroll the bundle. -</p> - -<p> -"And these?" -</p> - -<p> -"Plans," Hildebrand's buyer answered. -</p> - -<p> -"Plans of what?" The sergeant glared. -</p> - -<p> -"Of gowns, silly! Here—you're looking at -that one upside down! This way! Now isn't -that a perfect dear of an afternoon gown? -Poiret didn't have time to finish it, poor man! -See that lovely basque effect? Everything's -<i>moyen age</i> this season, you know." -</p> - -<p> -Jane, with a shrewd sidelong glance at the -flustered sergeant, rattled on, bringing gown -after gown from the baskets and displaying -them to the chorus of smothered screams of -delight from the feminine part of her audience. -One she draped coquettishly from her shoulders -and did an exaggerated step before the -smoky mirror over the mantelpiece to note the -effect. -</p> - -<p> -"Isn't it too bad this soldier person isn't -married, so he could appreciate these -beauties?" She flicked a mischievous eye his way. -"Of course he can't be married, or he'd -recognize the plan of a gown. Clean hands, there, -Mister Sergeant, if you're going to touch any -of these dreams! Here, let me! Now look at -that <i>musquetaire</i> sleeve—the effect of the -war—military, you know." -</p> - -<p> -The sergeant was thoroughly angry by this -time, and he forced the situation suddenly near -tragedy. Under his fingers a delicate girdle -crackled suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -"Here—your knife! Rip this open; there are -papers of some sort hidden here." He started -to pass the gown to one of his soldiers. Jane -choked back a scream. -</p> - -<p> -"No, no! That's crinoline, stupid! No -papers——" She stretched forth her arms -appealingly. The sergeant humped his shoulders and -put out his hand to take the opened clasp-knife. -</p> - -<p> -A plump doll-faced woman, who possessed -an afterglow of prettiness and a bustling -nervous manner, flounced through the doors at this -juncture and burst suddenly into the midst of -the group caught in the imminence of disaster. -</p> - -<p> -"What's this—what's this?" She caught -sight of the filmy creation draped from the -sergeant's arm. "Oh, the beauty!" This in a -whisper of admiration. -</p> - -<p> -"The last one made by Worth," Jane was -quick to explain, noting the sergeant's confusion -in the presence of the stranger, "and this -officer is going to rip it open in a search for -concealed papers. He takes me for a spy." -</p> - -<p> -Surprised blue eyes were turned from Jane -to the sergeant. The latter shamefacedly tried -to slip the open knife into his blouse, -mumbling an excuse. The blue eyes bored him -through. -</p> - -<p> -"I call that very stupid, Sergeant," reproved -the angel of rescue. Then to Jane—— -</p> - -<p> -"Where are you taking all these wonderful -gowns?" -</p> - -<p> -"To New York. I'm buyer for Hildebrand's, -and——" -</p> - -<p> -"But, Lady Crandall, this young woman has -no passports—nothing," the sergeant interposed. -"My duty——" -</p> - -<p> -"Bother your duty! Don't you know a -Worth gown when you see it? Now go away! -I'll be responsible for this young woman from -now on. Tell your commanding officer Lady -Crandall has taken your duty out of your -hands." She finished with a quiet assurance -and turned to gloat once more over the gowns. -The sergeant led his command away with evident relief. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Crandall turned to include all the refugees -in a general introduction of herself. -</p> - -<p> -"I am Lady Crandall, the wife of the -governor general of Gibraltar," she said, with a -warming smile. "I just came down to see -what I could do for you poor stranded -Americans. In these times——" -</p> - -<p> -"An American yourself, I'll gamble on -it!" Sherman pushed his way between the littered -baskets and seized Lady Crandall's hands. -"Knew it by the cut of your jib—and—your -way of doing things. I'm Henry J. Sherman, -from Kewanee, Illynoy—my wife and daughter -Kitty." -</p> - -<p> -"And I'm from Iowa—the red hills of ole -Ioway," the governor's wife chanted, with an -orator's flourish of the hands. "Welcome to -the Rock, home folks!" -</p> - -<p> -Hands all around and an impromptu old-home -week right then and there. Lady Crandall's -attention could not be long away from -the gowns, however. She turned back to them -eagerly. With Jane Gerson as her aid, she -passed them in rapturous review, Mrs. Sherman -and Kitty playing an enthusiastic chorus. -</p> - -<p> -A pursy little man with an air of supreme -importance—Henry Reynolds he was, United -States Consul at Gibraltar—catapulted in from -the street while the gown chatter was at its -noisiest. He threw his hands above his head -in a mock attitude of submissiveness before a -highwayman. -</p> - -<p> -"'S all fixed, ladies and gentlemen," he cried, -with a showman's eloquence. "Here's Lady -Crandall come to tell you about it, and she's -so busy riding her hobby—gowns and millinery -and such—she has forgotten. I'll bet dollars -to doughnuts." -</p> - -<p> -"Credit to whom credit is due, Mister Consul," -she rallied. "I'm not stealing anybody's -official thunder." The consul wagged a -forefinger at her reprovingly. With impatience, -the refugees waited to hear the news. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, it's this way," Reynolds began. "I've -got so tired having all you people sitting on -my door-step I just had to make arrangements -to ship you on the <i>Saxonia</i> in self-defense. -<i>Saxonia's</i> due here from Naples Thursday—day -after to-morrow; sails for New York at -dawn Friday morning. Lady Crandall, -here—and a better American never came out of -the Middle West—has agreed to go bond for -your passage money; all your letters of credit -and checks will be cashed by treasury agents -before you leave the dock at New York, and -you can settle with the steamship people right -there. -</p> - -<p> -"No, no; don't thank me! There's the -person responsible for your getting home." The -consul waved toward the governor's lady, who -blushed rosily under the tumultuous blessings -showered on her. Reynolds ducked out the -door to save his face. The Shermans made -their good nights, and with Kimball, started -toward the stairs. -</p> - -<p> -"Thursday night, before you sail," Lady -Crandall called to them, "you all have an -engagement—a regular American dinner with -me at the Government House. Remember!" -</p> - -<p> -"If you have hash—plain hash—and don't -call it a rag-owt, we'll eat you out of house and -home," Sherman shouted as addendum to the -others' thanks. -</p> - -<p> -"And you, my dear"—Lady Crandall beamed -upon Jane—"you're coming right home with -me to wait for the <i>Saxonia's</i> sailing. Oh, no, -don't be too ready with your thanks. This is -pure selfishness on my part. I want you to -help plan my fall clothes. There, the secret's -out. But with all those beautiful gowns, -surely Hildebrand will not object if you leave the -pattern of one of them in an out-of-the-way -little place like this. Come on, now, I'll not -take no for an answer. We'll pack up all these -beauties and have you off in no time." -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-132"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-132.jpg" alt="Lady Crandall beamed upon Jane." /> -<br /> -Lady Crandall beamed upon Jane. -</p> - -<p> -Jane's thanks were ignored by the capable -packer who smoothed and straightened the -confections of silk and satin in the osier -hampers. Lady Crandall summoned the porter to -lift the precious freight to the back of her -dogcart, waiting outside. Almer, perturbed at the -kidnaping of his guest, came from behind the -desk. -</p> - -<p> -"You will go to your room now?" he queried -anxiously. -</p> - -<p> -"Not going to take it," Jane answered. -"Have an invitation from Lady Crandall to -visit the State House, or whatever you call it." -</p> - -<p> -"But, pardon me. The room—it was rented, -and I fear one night's lodging is due. Twenty -shillings." -</p> - -<p> -Jane elevated her eyebrows, but handed over -a bill. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, no, lady. French paper—it is worthless -to me. Only English gold, if the lady -pleases." Almer's smile was leonine. -</p> - -<p> -"But it's all I've got; just came from France, -and——" -</p> - -<p> -"Then, though it gives me the greatest sorrow, -I must hold your luggage until you have -the money changed. Excuse——" -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse, who had dallied long -over his dinner for lack of something else to -do, came out of the dining-room just then, saw -a woman in difficulties with the landlord, and -instinctively stepped forward to offer his services. -</p> - -<p> -"Beg pardon, but can I be of any help?" -</p> - -<p> -Jane turned. The captain's heart gave a -great leap and then went cold. Frank pleasure -followed the first surprise in the girl's -eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, Captain Woodhouse—how jolly!—To -see you again after——" -</p> - -<p> -She put out her hand with a free gesture of -comradeship. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse did not see the girl's -hand. He was looking into her eyes coldly, -aloofly. -</p> - -<p> -"I beg your pardon, but aren't you mistaken?" -</p> - -<p> -"Mistaken?" The girl was staring at him, -mystified. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm afraid I have not had the pleasure of -meeting you," he continued evenly. "But if I -can be of service—now——" -</p> - -<p> -She shrugged her shoulders and turned away -from him. -</p> - -<p> -"A small matter. I owe this man twenty -shillings, and he will not accept French paper. -It's all I have." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse took the note from her. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll take it gladly—perfectly good." He -took some money from his pocket and looked -at it. Then, to Almer: "I say, can you split -a crown?" -</p> - -<p> -"Change for you in a minute, sir—the tobacco -shop down the street." Almer pocketed -the gold piece and dodged out of the door. -</p> - -<p> -Jane turned and found the deep-set gray -eyes of Captain Woodhouse fixed upon her. -They craved pardon—toleration of the incident -just passed. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap09"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER IX -<br /> -ROOM D -</h3> - -<p> -Woodhouse hurried to Jane Gerson's -side and began to speak swiftly and earnestly: -</p> - -<p> -"You are from the States?" -</p> - -<p> -A shrug was her answer. The girl's face -was averted, and in the defiant set of her -shoulders Woodhouse found little promise of -pardon for the incident of the minute before. -He persisted: -</p> - -<p> -"This war means nothing to you—one side -or the other?" -</p> - -<p> -"I have equal pity for them both," she -answered in a low voice. -</p> - -<p> -"We are living in dangerous times," he -continued earnestly. "I tell you frankly, were the -fact that you and I had met before to become -known here on the Rock the consequences would -be most—inconvenient—for me." Jane turned -and looked searchingly into his face. Something -in the tone rather than the words roused -her quick sympathy. Woodhouse kept on: -</p> - -<p> -"I am sorry I had to deny that former meeting -just now—that meeting which has been -with me in such vivid memory. I regret that -were you to allude to it again I would have to -deny it still more emphatically." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm sure I shan't mention it again," the girl -broke in shortly. -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps since it means so little to you—your -silence—perhaps you will do me that -favor, Miss Gerson." -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly." Woodhouse could see that -anger still tinged her speech. -</p> - -<p> -"May I go further—and ask you -to—promise?" A shadow of annoyance creased her -brow, but she nodded. -</p> - -<p> -"That is very good of you," he thanked her. -"Shall you be long on the Rock?" -</p> - -<p> -"No longer than I have to. I'm sailing on -the first boat for the States," she answered. -</p> - -<p> -"Then I am in luck—to-night." Woodhouse -tried to speak easily, though Jane Gerson's -attitude was distant. "Meeting you -again—that's luck." -</p> - -<p> -"To judge by what you have just said it -must be instead a great misfortune," she -retorted, with a slow smile. -</p> - -<p> -"That is not fair. You know what I mean. -Don't imagine I've really forgotten our first -meeting under happier conditions than these. -I know I'm not clever—I can't make it sound -as I would—but I've thought a great deal of -you, Miss Gerson—wondering how you were -making it in this great war. Perhaps——" -</p> - -<p> -Almer returned at this juncture with the -change, which he handed to Woodhouse. He -was followed in by Lady Crandall, who assured -Jane her hampers were securely strapped -to the dog-cart. Jane attempted an introduction. -</p> - -<p> -"This gentleman has just done me a service, -Lady Crandall. May I present——" -</p> - -<p> -"So sorry. You don't know my name. My -clumsiness. Captain Woodhouse." The man -bridged the dangerous gap hurriedly. Lady -Crandall acknowledged the introduction with a -gracious smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Your husband is Sir George——" he began. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Sir George Crandall, Governor-general -of the Rock. And you——" -</p> - -<p> -"Quite a recent comer. Transferred from -the Nile country here. Report to-morrow." -</p> - -<p> -"All of the new officers have to report to the -governor's wife as well," Lady Crandall -rallied, with a glance at Jane. "You must come -and see me—and Miss Gerson, who will be -with me until her boat sails." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse caught his breath. Jane Gerson, -who knew him, at the governor's home! But -he mastered himself in a second and bowed his -thanks. Lady Crandall was moving toward -the door. Her ward turned and held out a -hand to Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p> -"So good of you to have straightened out -my finances," she said, with a smile in which -the man hoped he read full forgiveness for his -denial of a few minutes before. "If you're -ever in America I hope——" He looked up -quickly. "I hope somebody will be as nice to -you. Good night." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse and Almer were alone in the mongrel -reception room. The hour was late. Almer -began sliding folding wooden shutters across -the back of the street windows. Woodhouse -lingered over the excuse of a final cigarette, -knowing the moment for his -rapprochement with his fellow Wilhelmstrasse spy was -at hand. He was more distraught than he -cared to admit even to himself. The day's -developments had been startling. First the -stunning encounter with Capper there on the very -Rock that was to be the scene of his -delicate operations—Capper, whom he had thought -sunk in the oblivion of some Alexandrian wine -shop, but who had followed him on the -<i>Princess Mary</i>. The fellow had deliberately cast -himself into his notice, Woodhouse reflected; -there had been menace and insolent hint of a -power to harm in his sneering objurgation that -Woodhouse should remember his name against -a second meeting. "Capper—never heard the -name in Alexandria, eh?" What could he -mean by that if not that somehow the little -ferret had learned of his visit to the home of -Doctor Koch? And that meant—why, Capper -in Gibraltar was as dangerous as a coiled cobra! -</p> - -<p> -Then the unexpected meeting with Jane -Gerson, the little American he had mourned as -lost in the fury of the war. Ah, that was a joy -not unmixed with regrets! What did she think -of him? First, he had been forced coldly to -deny the acquaintance that had meant much -to him in moments of recollection; then, he had -attempted a lame explanation, which explained -nothing and must have left her more mystified -than before. In fact, he had frankly thrown -himself on the mercy of a girl on whom he -had not the shadow of claim beyond the poor -equity of a chance friendship—an incident she -might consider as merely one of a day's travel -as far as he could know. He had stood before -her caught in a deceit, for on the occasion of -that never-to-be-forgotten ride from Calais to -Paris he had represented himself as hurrying -back to Egypt, and here she found him still -out of uniform and in a hotel in Gibraltar. -</p> - -<p> -Beyond all this, Jane Gerson was going to -the governor's house as a guest. She, whom -he had forced, ever so cavalierly, into a -promise to keep secret her half knowledge of the -double game he was playing, was going to be -on the intimate ground of association with the -one man in Gibraltar who by a crook of his -finger could end suspicion by a firing squad. -This breezy little baggage from New York -carried his life balanced on the rosy tip of her -tongue. She could be careless or she could be -indifferent; in either case it would be bandaged -eyes and the click of shells going home for -him. -</p> - -<p> -It was Almer who interrupted Woodhouse's -troubled train of thought. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse will report for signal -duty on the Rock to-morrow, I suppose?" he -insinuated, coming down to where Woodhouse -was standing before the fireplace. He made a -show of tidying up the scattered magazines -and folders on the table. -</p> - -<p> -"Report for signal duty?" the other echoed -coldly. "How did you know I was to report -for signal duty here?" -</p> - -<p> -"In the press a few weeks ago," the hotel -keeper hastily explained. "Your transfer from -the Nile country was announced. We poor -people here in Gibraltar, we have so little to -think about, even such small details of -news——" -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes. Quite so." Woodhouse tapped -back a yawn. -</p> - -<p> -"Your journey here from your station on -the Nile—it was without incident?" Almer -eyed his guest closely. The latter permitted -his eyes to rest on Almer's for a minute -before replying. -</p> - -<p> -"Quite." Woodhouse threw his cigarette in -the fireplace and started for the stairs. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, most unusual—such a long journey -without incident of any kind in this time of -universal war, with all Europe gone mad." Almer -was twiddling the combination of a -small safe set in the wall by the fireplace, and -his chatter seemed only incidental to the -absorbing work he had at hand. "How will the -madness end, Captain Woodhouse? What will -be the boundary lines of Europe's nations -in—say, 1932?" -</p> - -<p> -Almer rose as he said this and turned to look -squarely into the other's face. Woodhouse met -his gaze steadily and without betraying the -slightest emotion. -</p> - -<p> -"In 1932—I wonder," he mused, and into his -speech unconsciously appeared that throaty -intonation of the Teutonic tongue. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't go yet, Captain Woodhouse. Before -you retire I want you to sample some of this -brandy." He brought out of the safe a short -squat bottle and glasses. "See, I keep it in the -safe, so precious it is. Drink with me, -Captain, to the monarch you have come to -Gibraltar to serve—to his majesty, King George -the Fifth!" -</p> - -<p> -Almer lifted his glass, but Woodhouse -appeared wrapped in thought; his hand did not -go up. -</p> - -<p> -"I see you do not drink to that toast, Captain." -</p> - -<p> -"No—I was thinking—of 1932." -</p> - -<p> -"So?" Quick as a flash Almer caught him -up. "Then perhaps I had better say, drink to -the greatest monarch in Europe." -</p> - -<p> -"To the greatest monarch in Europe!" Woodhouse -lifted his glass and drained it. -</p> - -<p> -Almer leaned suddenly across the table and -spoke tensely: "You have—something maybe—I -would like to see. Some little relic of -Alexandria, let us say." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse swept a quick glance around, -then reached for the pin in his tie. -</p> - -<p> -"A scarab; that's all." -</p> - -<p> -In the space of a breath Almer had seen -what lay in the back of the stone beetle. He -gripped Woodhouse's hand fervently. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes, Nineteen Thirty-two! They have -told me of your coming. A cablegram from -Koch only this afternoon said you would be on -the <i>Princess Mary</i>. The other—the real -Woodhouse—there will be no slips; he will not——" -</p> - -<p> -"He is as good as a dead man for many -months," Woodhouse interrupted. "Not a -chance of a mistake." He slipped easily into -German. "Everything depends on us now, -Herr Almer." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps the fate of our fatherland," Almer -replied, cleaving to English. Woodhouse -stepped suddenly away from the side of the -table, against which he had been leaning, and -his right hand jerked back to a concealed -holster on his hip. His eyes were hot with -suspicion. -</p> - -<p> -"You do not answer in German; why not? -Answer me in German or by——" -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Ach</i>! What need to become excited?" Almer -drew back hastily, and his tongue speedily -switched to German. "German is dangerous -here on the Rock, Captain. Only yesterday -they shot a man against a wall because he -spoke German too well. Do you wonder I try -to forget our native tongue?" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse was mollified, and he smiled -apologetically. Almer forgave him out of -admiration for his discretion. -</p> - -<p> -"No need to suspect me—Almer. They will -tell you in Berlin how for twenty years I have -served the Wilhelmstrasse. But never before -such an opportunity—such an opportunity. -Stupendous!" Woodhouse nodded enthusiastic -affirmation. "But to business, Nineteen -Thirty-two. This Captain Woodhouse some seven -years ago was stationed here on the Rock for -just three months." -</p> - -<p> -"So I know." -</p> - -<p> -"You, as Woodhouse, will be expected to -have some knowledge of the signal tower, to -which you will have access." Almer climbed a -chair on the opposite side of the room, threw -open the face of the old Dutch clock there, and -removed from its interior a thin roll of blue -drafting paper. He put it in Woodhouse's -hands. "Here are a few plans of the interior -of the signal tower—the best I could get. You -will study them to-night; but give me your -word to burn them before you sleep." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good." Woodhouse slipped the roll -into the breast pocket of his coat. Almer -leaned forward in a gust of excitement, and, -bringing his mouth close to the other's ear, -whispered hoarsely: -</p> - -<p> -"England's Mediterranean fleet—twenty-two -dreadnaughts, with cruisers and destroyers—nearly -a half of Britain's navy, will be here any -day, hurrying back to guard the Channel. -They will anchor in the straits. Our big -moment—it will be here then! Listen! Room D -in the signal tower—that is the room. All the -electric switches are there. From Room D -every mine in the harbor can be exploded in ten -seconds." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, but how to get to Room D?" Woodhouse -queried. -</p> - -<p> -"Simple. Two doors to Room D, Captain; an -outer door like any other; an inner door of -steel, protected by a combination lock like a -vault's door. Two men on the Rock have that -combination: Major Bishop, chief signal officer, -he has in it his head; the governor-general -of the Rock, he has it in his safe." -</p> - -<p> -"We can get it out of the safe easier than -from Major Bishop's head," Woodhouse put in, -with a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Right. We have a friend—in the governor's -own house—a man with a number from -the Wilhelmstrasse like you and me. At any -moment in the last two months he could have -laid a hand on that combination. But we -thought it better to wait until necessity came. -When the fleet arrives you will have that -combination; you will go with it to Room D, and -after that——" -</p> - -<p> -"The deluge," the other finished. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes! Our country master of the sea -at last, and by the work of the Wilhelmstrasse—despised -spies who are shot like dogs when -they're caught, but die heroes' deaths." The -hotel proprietor checked himself in the midst -of his rhapsody, and came back to more -practical details: -</p> - -<p> -"But this afternoon—that man from Alexandria -who called you by name. That looked bad—very -bad. He knows something?" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, who had been expecting the -question, and who preferred not to share an -anxiety he felt himself best fitted to cope with -alone, turned the other's question aside: -</p> - -<p> -"Never met him before in my life to my best -recollection. My name he picked up on the -<i>Princess Mary</i>, of course; I won a pool one -day, and he may have heard some one mention -it. Simply a drunken brawler who didn't know -what he was doing." -</p> - -<p> -Almer seemed satisfied, but raised another -point: -</p> - -<p> -"But the girl who has just left here; am I -to have no explanation of her?" -</p> - -<p> -"What explanation do you want?" the captain -demanded curtly. -</p> - -<p> -"She recognized you. Who is she? What -is she?" -</p> - -<p> -"Devilish unfortunate," Woodhouse admitted. -"We met a few weeks ago on a train, while I -was on my way to Egypt, you know. Chatted -together—oh, very informally. She is a -capable young woman from the States—a 'buyer' -she calls herself. But I don't think we need -fear complications from that score; she's bent -only on getting home." -</p> - -<p> -"The situation is dangerous," urged Almer, -wagging his head. "She is stopping at the -governor's house; any reference she might make -about meeting you on a train on the Continent -when you were supposed to be at Wady Halfa -on the Nile——" -</p> - -<p> -"I have her promise she will not mention -that meeting to anybody." -</p> - -<p> -"<i>Ach</i>! A woman's promise!" Almer's eyes -invoked Heaven to witness a futile thing. "She -seemed rather glad to see you again; I——" -</p> - -<p> -"Really?" Woodhouse's eyes lighted. -</p> - -<p> -The Splendide's proprietor was pacing the -floor as fast as his fat legs would let him. -"Something must be done," he muttered again -and again. He halted abruptly before Woodhouse, -and launched a thick forefinger at him -like a torpedo. -</p> - -<p> -"You must make love to that girl, Woodhouse, -to keep her on our side," was his ultimatum. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse regarded him quizzically, leaned -forward, and whispered significantly. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm already doing it," he said. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap10"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER X -<br /> -A VISIT TO A LADY -</h3> - -<p> -Turning to consider the never-stale -fortunes of one of fate's bean bags—— -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Billy Capper, ejected from the Hotel -Splendide, took little umbrage at such -treatment; it was not an uncommon experience, -and, besides, a quiet triumph that would not -be dampened by trifles filled his soul. -Cheerfully he pushed through the motley crowd on -Waterport Street down to the lower levels of -the city by the Line Wall, where the roosts of -sailors and warrens of quondam adventurers -off all the seven seas made far more congenial -atmosphere than that of the Splendide's -hollow pretense. He chose a hostelry more -commensurate with his slender purse than -Almer's, though as a matter of fact the question -of paying a hotel bill was furthest from Billy -Capper's thoughts; such formal transactions -he avoided whenever feasible. The proprietor -of the San Roc, where Capper took a room, had -such an evil eye that his new guest made a -mental note that perhaps he might have to -leave his bag behind when he decamped. -Capper abhorred violence—to his own person. -</p> - -<p> -Alone over a glass of thin wine—the champagne -days, alas! had been too fleeting—Capper -took stock of his situation and conned the -developments he hoped to be the instrument -for starting. To begin with, finances were -wretchedly bad, and that was a circumstance -so near the ordinary for Capper that he -shuddered as he pulled a gold guinea and a few -silver bits from his pocket, and mechanically -counted them over. Of the three hundred -marks Louisa—pretty snake!—had given him -in the Café Riche and the expense money he -had received from her the following day to -cover his expedition to Alexandria for the -Wilhelmstrasse naught but this paltry residue! -That second-cabin ticket on the <i>Princess Mary</i> -had taken the last big bite from his hoard, and -here he was in this black-and-tan town with a -quid and little more between himself and the -old starved-dog life. -</p> - -<p> -But—and Capper narrowed his eyes and -sagely wagged his head—there'd be something -fat coming. When he got knee to knee with -the governor-general of the Rock, and told him -what he, Billy Capper, knew about the identity -of Captain Woodhouse, newly transferred to -the signal service at Gibraltar, why, if there -wasn't a cool fifty pounds or a matter of that -as honorarium from a generous government -Billy Capper had missed his guess; that's all. -</p> - -<p> -"I say, Governor, of course this is very -handsome of you, but I didn't come to tell -what I know for gold. I'm a loyal Englishman, -and I've done what I have for the good -of the old flag." -</p> - -<p> -"Quite right, Mr. Capper; quite right. But -you will please accept this little gift as an -inadequate recognition of your loyalty. Your -name shall be mentioned in my despatches home." -</p> - -<p> -Capper rehearsed this hypothetical dialogue -with relish. He could even catch the involuntary -gasp of astonishment from the governor -when that responsible officer in his majesty's -service heard the words Capper would whisper -to him; could see the commander of the Rock -open a drawer in his desk and take therefrom -a thick white sheaf of bank-notes—count -them! Then—ah, then—the first train for -Paris and the delights of Paris at war-time -prices. -</p> - -<p> -The little spy anticipated no difficulty in -gaining audience with the governor. Before -he had been fifteen minutes off the <i>Princess -Mary</i> he had heard the name of the present -incumbent of Government House. Crandall—Sir -George Crandall; the same who had been -in command of the forts at Rangoon back in -'99. Oh, yes, Capper knew him, and he made -no doubt that, if properly reminded of a -certain bit of work Billy Capper had done back in -the Burmese city, Sir George would recall -him—and with every reason for gratefulness. -To-morrow—yes, before ever Sir George had had -his morning's peg, Capper would present -himself at Government House and tell about that -house on Queen's Terrace at Ramleh; about -the unconscious British officer who was carried -there and hurried thence by night, and the -tall well-knit man in conference with Doctor -Koch who was now come to be a part of the -garrison of the Rock under the stolen name of -Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p> -Capper had his dinner, then strolled around -the town to see the sights and hear what he -could hear. Listening was a passion with him. -</p> - -<p> -For the color and the exotic savor of Gibraltar -on a hot August night Capper had no eye. -The knife edge of a moon slicing the battlements -of the old Moorish Castle up on the -heights; the minor tinkle of a guitar sounding -from a vine-curtained balcony; a Riffian -muleteer's singsong review of his fractious beast's -degraded ancestry—not for these incidentals -did the practical mind under the battered -Capper bowler have room. Rather the scraps of -information and gossip passed from one -blue-coated artilleryman off duty, to another over -a mug of ale, or the confidence of a sloe-eyed -dancer to the guitar player in a tavern; this -was meat for Capper. Carefully he husbanded -his gold piece, and judiciously he spent his -silver for drink. He enjoyed himself in the -ascetic spirit of a monk in a fast, believing -that the morrow would bring champagne in -place of the thin wine his pitiful silver could -command. -</p> - -<p> -Then, of a sudden, he caught a glimpse of -Louisa—Louisa of the Wilhelmstrasse. -Capper's heart skipped, and an involuntary -impulse crooked his fingers into claws. -</p> - -<p> -The girl was just coming out of a café—the -only café aspiring to Parisian smartness -Gibraltar boasts. Her head was bare. Under an -arm she had tucked a stack of cigar boxes. -Had it not been that a steady light from an -overhead arc cut her features out of the soft -shadow with the fineness of a diamond-pointed -tool, Capper would have sworn his eyes were -playing him tricks. But Louisa's features -were unmistakable, whether in the Lucullian -surroundings of a Berlin summer garden or -here on a street in Gibraltar. Capper had -instinctively crushed himself against the -nearest wall on seeing the girl; the crowd had come -between himself and her, and she had not -seen him. -</p> - -<p> -All the weasel instinct of the man came -instantly to the fore that second of recognition, -and the glint in his eyes and baring of his -teeth were flashed from brute instinct—the -instinct of the night-prowling meat hunter. -All the vicious hate which the soul of Billy -Capper could distil flooded to his eyes and -made them venomous. Slinking, dodging, -covering, he followed the girl with the cigar -boxes. She entered several dance-halls, -offered her wares at the door of a cheap hotel. -For more than an hour Capper shadowed her -through the twisting streets of the old -Spanish town. Finally she turned into a narrow -lane, climbed flagstone steps, set the width of -the lane, to a house under the scarp of a cliff, -and let herself in at the street door. Capper, -following to the door as quickly as he dared, -found it locked. -</p> - -<p> -The little spy was choking with a lust to -kill; his whole body trembled under the pulse -of a murderous passion. He had found Louisa—the -girl who had sold him out—and for her -private ends, Capper made no doubt of that. -Some day he had hoped to run her down, and -with his fingers about her soft throat to tell her -how dangerous it was to trick Billy Capper. -But to have her flung across his path this way -when anger was still at white heat in him—this -was luck! He'd see this Louisa and have -a little powwow with her even if he had to -break his way into the house. -</p> - -<p> -Capper felt the doorknob again; the door -wouldn't yield. He drew back a bit and -looked up at the front of the house. Just a -dingy black wall with three unlighted windows -set in it irregularly. The roof projected over -the gabled attic like the visor of a cap. -Beyond the farther corner of the house were ten -feet of garden space, and then the bold rock of -the cliff springing upward. A low wall -bounded the garden; over its top nodded the pale -ghosts of moonflowers and oleanders. -</p> - -<p> -Capper was over the wall in a bound, and -crouching amid flower clusters, listening for -possible alarm. None came, and he became -bolder. Skirting a tiny arbor, he skulked to a -position in the rear of the house; there a broad -patch of illumination stretched across the -garden, coming from two French windows on the -lower floor. They stood half open; through -the thin white stuff hanging behind them -Capper could see vaguely the figure of a girl -seated before a dressing mirror with her hands -busy over two heavy ropes of hair. Nothing -to do but step up on the little half balcony -outside the windows, push through into the room, -and—have a little powwow with Louisa. -</p> - -<p> -An unwonted boldness had a grip on the little -spy. Never a person to force a face-to-face -issue when the trick could be turned -behind somebody's back, he was, nevertheless, -driven irresistibly by a furious anger that -took no heed of consequences. -</p> - -<p> -With the light foot of a cat, Capper straddled -the low rail of the balcony, pushed back -one of the partly opened windows, and stepped -into Louisa's room. His eyes registered -mechanically the details—a heavy canopied bed, -a massive highboy of some dark wood, chairs -supporting carelessly flung bits of wearing -apparel. But he noted especially that just as he -emerged from behind one of the loose curtains -a white arm remained poised over a brown head. -</p> - -<p> -"Stop where you are, Billy Capper!" The -girl's low-spoken order was as cold and tense -as drawn wire. No trace of shock or surprise -was in her voice. She did not turn her head. -Capper was brought up short, as if he felt a -noose about his neck. -</p> - -<p> -Slowly the figure seated before the dressing -mirror turned to face him. Tumbling hair -framed the girl's face, partly veiling the -yellow-brown eyes, which seemed two spots of -metal coming to incandescence under heat. -Her hands, one still holding a comb, lay -supinely in her lap. -</p> - -<p> -"I admit this is a surprise, Capper," Louisa -said, letting each word fall sharply, but -without emphasis. "However, it is like you to -be—unconventional. May I ask what you want -this time—besides money, of course?" -</p> - -<p> -Capper wet his lips and smiled wryly. He -had jumped so swiftly to impulse that he had -not prepared himself beforehand against the -moment when he should be face to face with -the girl from the Wilhelmstrasse. Moreover, -he had expected to be closer to her—very close -indeed—before the time for words should -come. -</p> - -<p> -"I—I saw you to-night and followed -you—here," he began lamely. -</p> - -<p> -"Flattering!" She laughed shortly. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you needn't try to come it over me with -words!" Capper's teeth showed in a nasty -grin as his rage flared back from the first -suppression of surprise. "I've come here to have -a settlement for a little affair between you and -me." -</p> - -<p> -"Blackmail? Why, Billy Capper, how true -to form you run!" The yellow-brown eyes -were alight and burning now. "Have you -determined the sum you want or are you in the -open market?" -</p> - -<p> -Capper grinned again, and shifted his -weight, inadvertently advancing one foot a -little nearer the seated girl as he did so. -</p> - -<p> -"Pretty quick with the tongue—as always," -he sneered. "But this time it doesn't go, -Louisa. You pay differently this time—pay for -selling me out. Understand!" Again one foot -shifted forward a few inches by the accident of -some slight body movement on the man's part. -Louisa still sat before her dressing mirror, -hands carelessly crossed on her lap. -</p> - -<p> -"Selling you out?" she repeated evenly. -"Oh! So you finally did discover that you -were elected to be the goat? Brilliant -Capper! How long before you made up your -mind you had a grievance?" -</p> - -<p> -The girl's cool admission goaded the little -man's fury to frenzy. His mind craved for -action—for the leap and the tightening of -fingers around that taunting throat; but -somehow his body, strangely detached from the fiat -of volition as if it were another's body, lagged -to the command. Violence had never been its -mission; muscles were slow to accept this new -conception of the mind. But the man's feet -followed their crafty intelligence; by fractions -of inches they moved forward stealthily. -</p> - -<p> -"You wouldn't be here now," Louisa coldly -went on, "if you weren't fortune's bright-eyed -boy. You were slated to be taken off the boat -at Malta and shot; the boat didn't stop at -Malta through no fault of ours, and so you arrived -at Alexandria—and became a nuisance." One -of the girl's hands lifted from her lap and -lazily played along the edge of the rosewood -standard which supported the mirror on the -dressing table. It stopped at a curiously -carved rosette in the rococo scroll-work. -Capper's suspicious eye noted the movement. He -sparred for time—the time needed by those -stealthy feet to shorten the distance between -themselves and the girl. -</p> - -<p> -"Why," he hissed, "why did you give me a -number with the Wilhelmstrasse and send me -to Alexandria if I was to be caught and shot at -Malta? That's what I'm here to find out." -</p> - -<p> -"Excellent Capper!" Her fingers were playing -with the convolutions of the carved rosette. -"Intelligent Capper! He comes to a -lady's room at night to find the answer to a -simple question. He shall have it. He -evidently does not know the method of the -Wilhelmstrasse, which is to choose two men for -every task to be accomplished. One—the -'target,' we call him—goes first; our friends -whose secrets we seek are allowed to become -suspicious of him—we even give them a hint -to help them in their suspicion. They seize -the 'target,' and in time of war he becomes a -real target for a firing squad, as you should -have been, Capper, at Malta. Then when our -friends believe they have nipped our move in -the bud follows the second man—who turns -the trick." -</p> - -<p> -Capper was still wrestling with that baffling -stubbornness of the body. Each word the girl -uttered was like vitriol on his writhing soul. -His mind willed murder—willed it with all the -strength of hate; but still the springs of his -body were cramped—by what? Not cowardice, -for he was beyond reckoning results. -Certainly not compassion or any saving virtue of -chivalry. Why did his eyes constantly stray -to that white hand lifted to allow the fingers -to play with the filigree of wood on the mirror -support? -</p> - -<p> -"Then you engineered the stealing of my -number—from the hollow under the handle of -my cane—some time between Paris and -Alexandria?" he challenged in a whisper, his face -thrust forward between hunched shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"No, indeed. It was necessary for you to -have—the evidence of your profession when -the English searched you at Malta. But the -loss of your number is not news; Koch, in -Alexandria, has reported, of course." -</p> - -<p> -The girl saw Capper's foot steal forward -again. He was not six feet from her now. -His wiry body settled itself ever so slightly -for a spring. Louisa rose from her chair, one -hand still resting on the wooden rosette of the -mirror standard. She began to speak in a -voice drained of all emotion: -</p> - -<p> -"You followed me here to-night, Billy Capper, -imagining in your poor little soul that you -were going to do something desperate—something -really human and brutal. You came in -my window all primed for murder. But your -poor little soul all went to water the instant -we faced each other. You couldn't nerve -yourself to leap upon a woman even. You -can't now." -</p> - -<p> -She smiled on him—a woman's flaying -smile of pity. Capper writhed, and his -features twisted themselves in a paroxysm of -hate. -</p> - -<p> -"I have my finger on a bell button here, Capper. -If I press it men will come in here and -kill you without asking a question. Now you'd -better go." -</p> - -<p> -Capper's eyes jumped to focus on a round -white nib under one of the girl's fingers there -on the mirror's standard. The little ivory -button was alive—a sentient thing suddenly -allied against him. That inanimate object -rather than Louisa's words sent fingers of cold -fear to grip his heart. A little ivory button -waiting there to trap him! He tried to cover -his vanished resolution with bluster, sputtering -out in a tense whisper: -</p> - -<p> -"You're a devil—a devil from hell, Louisa! -But I'll get you. They shoot women in war -time! Sir George Crandall—I know him—I -did a little service for him once in Rangoon. -He'll hear of you and your Wilhelmstrasse -tricks, and you'll have your pretty back -against a wall with guns at your heart before -to-morrow night. Remember—before to-morrow night!" -</p> - -<p> -Capper was backing toward the open window -behind him. The girl still stood by the -mirror, her hand lightly resting where the -ivory nib was. She laughed. -</p> - -<p> -"Very well, Billy Capper. It will be a firing -party for two—you and me together. I'll -make a frank confession—tell all the information -Billy Capper sold to me for three hundred -marks one night in the Café Riche—the story -of the Anglo-Belgian defense arrangements. -The same Billy Capper, I'll say, who sold the -Lord Fisher letters to the kaiser—a cable to -Downing Street will confirm that identification -inside of two hours. And then——" -</p> - -<p> -"And your Captain Woodhouse—your cute -little Wilhelmstrasse captain," Capper flung -back from the window, pretending not to heed -the girl's potent threat; "I know all about him, -and the governor'll know, too—same time he -hears about you!" -</p> - -<p> -"Good night, Billy Capper," Louisa -answered, with a piquant smile. "And au -revoir until we meet with our backs against -that wall." -</p> - -<p> -Capper's head dropped from view over the -balcony edge; there was a sound of running -feet amid the close-ranked plants in the -garden, then silence. -</p> - -<p> -The girl from the Wilhelmstrasse, alone in -the house save for the bent old housekeeper -asleep in her attic, turned and laid her -head—a bit weakly—against the carved standard, -where in a florid rosette showed the ivory tip -of the hinge for the cheval glass. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap11"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XI -<br /> -A SPY IN THE SIGNAL TOWER -</h3> - -<p> -Government House, one of the Baedeker -points of Gibraltar, stands amid -its gardens on a shelf of the Rock about -mid-way between the Alameda and the signal -tower, perched on the very spine of the lion's -back above it. Its windows look out on the -blue bay and over to the red roofs of Algeciras -across the water on Spanish territory. Tourists -gather to peek from a respectful distance -at the mossy front and quaint ecclesiastic -gables of Government House, which has a distinction -quite apart from its use as the home of the -governor-general. Once, back in the dim ages -of Spain's glory, it was a monastery, one of the -oldest in the southern tip of the peninsula. -When the English came their practical sense -took no heed of the protesting ghosts of the -monks, but converted the monastery into a -home for the military head of the fortress—a -little dreary, a shade more melancholy than -the accustomed manor hall at home, but -adequate and livable. -</p> - -<p> -Thither, on the morning after his arrival, -Captain Woodhouse went to report for duty to -Major-general Sir George Crandall, Governor of -the Rock. Captain Woodhouse was in uniform—neat -service khaki and pith helmet, which -became him mightily. He appeared to have -been molded into the short-skirted, olive-gray -jacket; it set on his shoulders with snug ease. -Perhaps, if anything, the uniform gave to his -features a shade more than their wonted -sternness, to his body just the least addition -of an indefinable alertness, of nervous -acuteness. It was nine o'clock, and Captain -Woodhouse knew it was necessary for him to pay -his duty call on Sir George before the eleven -o'clock assembly. -</p> - -<p> -As the captain emerged from the straggling -end of Waterport Street, and strode through -the flowered paths of the Alameda, he did not -happen to see a figure that dodged behind a -chevaux-de-frise of Spanish bayonet on his -approach. Billy Capper, who had been pacing -the gardens for more than an hour, fear -battling with the predatory impulse that urged -him to Government House, watched Captain -Woodhouse pass, and his eyes narrowed into -a queer twinkle of oblique humor. So Captain -Woodhouse had begun to play the game—going -to report to the governor, eh? The pale soul -of Mr. Capper glowed with a faint flicker of -admiration for this cool bravery far beyond its -own capacity to practise. Capper waited a safe -time, then followed, chose a position outside -Government House from which he could see -the main entrance, and waited. -</p> - -<p> -A tall thin East Indian with a narrow -ascetic face under his closely wound white -turban, and wearing a native livery of the same -spotless white, answered the captain's summons -on the heavy knocker. He accepted the visitor's -card, showed him into a dim hallway hung -with faded arras and coats of chain mail. The -Indian, Jaimihr Khan, gave Captain Woodhouse -a start when he returned to say the governor -would receive him in his office. The -man had a tread like a cat's, absolutely -noiseless; he moved through the half light of the -hall like a white wraith. His English was -spoken precisely and with a curious mechanical -intonation. -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan threw back heavy double -doors and announced, "Cap-tain Wood-house." He -had the doors shut noiselessly almost -before the visitor was through them. -</p> - -<p> -A tall heavy-set man with graying hair and -mustache rose from a broad desk at the right -of a large room and advanced with hand -outstretched in cordial welcome. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse, of the signal service. -Welcome to the Rock, Captain. Need you -here. Glad you've come." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse studied the face of his superior -in a swift glance as he shook hands. A broad -full face it was, kindly, intelligent, perhaps not -so alert as to the set of eyes and mouth as it -had been in younger days when the stripes of -service were still to be won. General Sir -George Crandall gave the impression of a man -content to rest on his honors, though scrupulously -attentive to the routine of his position. -He motioned the younger man to draw a chair -up to the desk. -</p> - -<p> -"In yesterday on the <i>Princess Mary</i>, I presume, -Captain?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, General. Didn't report to you on -arrival because I thought it would be quite -tea time and I didn't want to disturb——" -</p> - -<p> -"Right!" General Crandall tipped back in -his swivel chair and appraised his new officer -with satisfaction. "Everything quiet on the -upper Nile? Germans not tinkering with the -Mullah yet to start insurrection or anything -like that?" -</p> - -<p> -"Right as a trivet, sir," Woodhouse -answered promptly. "Of course we're -anticipating some such move by the enemy—agents -working in from Erythrea—holy war of a sort, -perhaps, but I think our people have things -well in hand." -</p> - -<p> -"And at Wady Halfa, your former -commander——" The general hesitated. -</p> - -<p> -"Major Bronson-Webb, sir," Woodhouse -was quick to supply, but not without a sharp -glance at the older man. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes; Bronson-Webb—knew him in -Rangoon in the late nineties—mighty decent -chap and a good executive. He's standing the -sun, I warrant." -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse accepted the cigarette -from the general's extended case. -</p> - -<p> -"No complaint from him at least, General -Crandall. We all get pretty well baked at -Wady, I take it." -</p> - -<p> -The governor laughed, and tapped a bell on -his desk. Jaimihr Khan was instantly -materialized between the double doors. -</p> - -<p> -"My orderly, Jaimihr," General Crandall -ordered, and the doors were shut once more. -The general stretched a hand across the desk. -</p> - -<p> -"Your papers, please, Captain. I'll receipt -your order of transfer and you'll be a member -of our garrison forthwith." -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse brought a thin sheaf of -folded papers from his breast pocket and -passed it to his superior. He kept his eyes -steadily on the general's face as he scanned -them. -</p> - -<p> -"C. G. Woodhouse—Chief Signal Officer—Ninth -Grenadiers—Wady Halfa——" General -Crandall conned the transfer aloud, running -his eyes rapidly down the lines of the -form. "Right. Now, Captain, when my -orderly comes——" -</p> - -<p> -A subaltern entered and saluted. -</p> - -<p> -"This is Captain Woodhouse." General -Crandall indicated Woodhouse, who had risen. -"Kindly conduct him to Major Bishop, who -will assign him to quarters. Captain -Woodhouse, we—Lady Crandall and I—will expect -you at Government House soon to make your -bow over the teacup. One of Lady Crandall's -inflexible rules for new recruits, you know. -Good day, sir." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, out in the free air again, drew -in a long breath and braced back his shoulders. -He accompanied the subaltern over the trails -on the Rock to the quarters of Major Bishop, -chief signal officer, under whom he was to -be junior in command. But one regret -marked his first visit to Government House—he -had not caught even a glimpse of the little -person calling herself Jane Gerson, buyer. -</p> - -<p> -But he had missed by a narrow margin. -Piloted by Lady Crandall, Jane had left the -vaulted breakfast room for the larger and -lighter library, which Sir George had -converted to the purpose of an office. This -room was a sort of holy of holies with Lady -Crandall, to be invaded if the presiding genius -could be caught napping or lulled to complaisance. -This morning she had the important -necessity of unobstructed light—not a general -commodity about Government House—to urge -in defense of profanation. For her guest -carried under her arm a sheaf of plans—by such -sterling architects of women's fancies as -Worth and Doeuillet, and the imp of envy -would not allow the governor's wife to have -peace until she had devoured every pattern. -She paused in mock horror at the threshold of -her husband's sanctum. -</p> - -<p> -"But, George, dear, you should be out by -this time, you know," Lady Crandall expostulated. -"Miss Gerson and I have something—oh, -tremendously important to do here." She -made a sly gesture of concealing the bundle -of stiff drawing paper she carried. General -Crandall, who had risen at the arrival of -the two invaders, made a show at capturing -the plans his wife held behind her back. Jane -bubbled laughter at the spectacle of so exalted -a military lion at play. The general possessed -himself of the roll, drew a curled scroll from -it, and gravely studied it. -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Gerson," he said with deliberation, -"this looks to me like a plan of Battery B. I -am surprised that you should violate the -hospitality of Government House by doing spy -work from its bedroom windows." -</p> - -<p> -"Foolish! You've got that upside down for -one thing," Lady Crandall chided. "And besides -it's only a chart of what the lady of -Government House hopes soon to wear if she can -get the goods from Holbein's, on Regent -Street." -</p> - -<p> -"You see, General Crandall, I'm attacking -Government House at its weakest point," -Jane laughed. "Been here less than twelve -hours, and already the most important -member of the garrison has surrendered." -</p> - -<p> -"The American sahib, Reynolds," chanted -Jaimihr Khan from the double doors, and -almost at once the breezy consul burst into the -room. He saluted all three with an expansive -gesture of the hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Morning, Governor—morning, Lady Crandall, -and same to you, Miss Gerson. Dear, -dear; this is going to be a bad day for me, and -it's just started." The little man was wound -up like a sidewalk top, and he ran on without -stopping: -</p> - -<p> -"General Sherman might have got some real -force into his remarks about war if he'd had -a job like mine. Miss Gerson—news! Heard -from the <i>Saxonia</i>. Be in harbor some time -to-morrow and leave at six sharp following -morning." Jane clapped her hands. "I've -wired for accommodations for all of you—just -got the answer. Rotten accommodations, -but—thank Heaven—I won't be able to hear what -you say about me when you're at sea." -</p> - -<p> -"Anything will do," Jane broke in. "I'm not -particular. I want to sail—that's all." -</p> - -<p> -The consul looked flustered. -</p> - -<p> -"Um—that's what I came to see you about, -General Crandall." He jerked his head around -toward the governor with a birdlike pertness. -"What are you going to do with this young -lady, sir?" Jane waited the answer breathlessly. -</p> - -<p> -"Why—um—really, as far as we're concerned," -Sir George answered slowly, "we'd be -glad to have her stop here indefinitely. Don't -you agree, Helen?" -</p> - -<p> -"Of course; but——" -</p> - -<p> -"It's this way," the consul interrupted Lady -Crandall. "I've arranged to get Miss Gerson -aboard, provided, of course, you approve." -</p> - -<p> -"You haven't got a cable through regarding -her?" the general asked. "Her passports—lost—lot -of red tape, of course." -</p> - -<p> -"Not a line from Paris even," Reynolds -answered. "Miss Gerson says the ambassador -could vouch for her, and——" -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed he could!" Jane started impulsively -toward the general. "It was his wife arranged -my motor for me and advanced me money." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall looked down into her eager -face indulgently. -</p> - -<p> -"You really are very anxious to sail, Miss -Gerson?" -</p> - -<p> -"General Crandall, I'm not very good at -these please-spare-my-lover speeches," the girl -began, her lips tremulous. "But it means a lot -to me—to go; my job, my career. I've fought -my way this far, and here I am—and there's -the sea out there. If I can't step aboard the -<i>Saxonia</i> Friday morning it—it will break my -heart." -</p> - -<p> -Gibraltar's master honed his chin thoughtfully -for a minute. -</p> - -<p> -"Um—I'm sure I don't want to break anybody's -heart—not at my age, miss. I see no -good reason why I should not let you go if -nothing happens meanwhile to make me change my -mind." He beamed good humor on her. -</p> - -<p> -"Bless you, General," she cried. "Hildebrand's -will mention you in its advertisements." -</p> - -<p> -"Heaven forbid!" General Crandall cried in -real perturbation. -</p> - -<p> -Jane turned to Lady Crandall and took both -her hands. -</p> - -<p> -"Come to my room," she urged, with an air -of mystery. "You know that Doeuillet evening -gown—the one in blue? It's yours, Lady Crandall. -I'd give another to the general if he'd -wear it. Now one fitting and——" -</p> - -<p> -Her voice was drowned by Lady Crandall's: -"You dear!" -</p> - -<p> -"Be at the dock at five A.M. Friday to see -you and the others off, Miss Gerson," Reynolds -called after her. "Must go now—morning -crowd of busted citizens waiting at the consulate -to be fed. Ta-ta!" Reynolds collided with -Jaimihr Khan at the double doors. -</p> - -<p> -"A young man who wishes to see you, General -Sahib. He will give no name, but he says a -promise you made to see him—by telephone an -hour ago." -</p> - -<p> -"Show Mr. Reynolds out, Jaimihr!" the general -ordered. "Then you may bring the young -man in." -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Billy Capper, who had, in truth, -telephoned to Government House and secured the -privilege of an interview even before the -arrival of Woodhouse to report, and had paced -the paths of the Alameda since, blowing hot -and cold on his resolutions, followed the -soft-footed Indian into the presence of General -Crandall. The little spy was near a state of -nervous breakdown. Following the surprising -and unexpected collapse of his plan to do a -murder, he had spent a wakeful and brandy-punctuated -night, his brain on the rack. His desire -to play informer, heightened now a hundred-fold -by the flaying tongue of Louisa, was almost -balanced by his fears of resultant consequences. -Cupidity, the old instinct for preying, -drove him to impart to the governor-general of -Gibraltar information which, he hoped, would -be worth its weight in gold; Louisa's promise -of a party <i>à deux</i> before a firing squad, which -he knew in his heart she would be capable of -arranging in a desperate moment, halted him. -After screwing up his courage to the point of -telephoning for an appointment, Capper had -wallowed in fear. He dared not stay away -from Government House then for fear of -arousing suspicion; equally he dared not -involve the girl from the Wilhelmstrasse lest he -find himself tangled in his own mesh. -</p> - -<p> -At the desperate moment of his introduction -to General Crandall, Capper determined to -play it safe and see how the chips fell. His -heart quailed as he heard the doors shut -behind him. -</p> - -<p> -"Awfully good of you to see me," he babbled -as he stood before the desk, turning his hat -brim through his fingers like a prayer wheel. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall bade him be seated. "I -haven't forgotten you did me a service in -Burma," he added. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, yes—of course," Capper managed to -answer. "But that was my job. I got paid for -that." -</p> - -<p> -"You're not with the Brussels secret-service -people any longer, then?" -</p> - -<p> -The question hit Capper hard. His fingers -fluttered to his lips. -</p> - -<p> -"No, General. They—er—let me go. Suppose -you heard that—and a lot of other things -about me. That I was a rotter—that I -drank——" -</p> - -<p> -"What I heard was not altogether complimentary," -the other answered judiciously. "I -trust it was untrue." -</p> - -<p> -Capper's embarrassment increased. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, to tell the truth, General Crandall—ah—I -did go to pieces for a time. I've been -playing a pretty short string for the last two -years. But"—he broke off his whine in a -sudden accession of passion—"they can't keep me -down much longer. I'm going to show 'em!" -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall looked his surprise. -</p> - -<p> -"General, I'm an Englishman. You know -that. I may be down and out, and my old -friends may not know me when we meet—but -I'm English. And I'm loyal!" Capper was -getting a grip on himself; he thought the -patriotic line a safe one to play with the commander -of a fortress. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes. I don't question that, I'm sure," -the general grunted, and he began to riffle -some papers on his desk petulantly. -</p> - -<p> -Capper pressed home his point. "I just want -you to keep that in mind, General, while I talk. -Just remember I'm English—and loyal." -</p> - -<p> -The governor nodded impatiently. -</p> - -<p> -Capper leaned far over the desk, and began -in an eager whisper: -</p> - -<p> -"General, remember Cook—that chap in -Rangoon—the polo player?" The other looked -blank. "Haven't forgotten him, General? How -he lived in Burma two years, mingling with -the English, until one day somebody discovered -his name was Koch and that he was a mighty -unhealthy chap to have about the fortifications. -Surely——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, I remember him now. But what——" -</p> - -<p> -"There was Hollister, too. You played -billiards in your club with Hollister, I fancy. -Thought him all right, too—until a couple of -secret-service men walked into the club one day -and clapped handcuffs on him. Remember -that, General?" -</p> - -<p> -The commander exclaimed snappishly that -he could not see his visitor's drift. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm just refreshing your memory, General," -Capper hastened to reassure. "Just reminding -you that there isn't much difference between a -German and an Englishman, after all—if the -German wants to play the Englishman and -knows his book. He can fool a lot of us." -</p> - -<p> -"Granted. But I don't see what all this has -to do with——" -</p> - -<p> -"Listen, General!" Capper was trembling in -his eagerness. "I'm just in from Alexandria—came -on the <i>Princess Mary</i>. There was an -Englishman aboard, bound for Gib. Name was -Captain Woodhouse, of the signal service." -</p> - -<p> -"Quite right. What of that?" General Crandall -looked up suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you seen Captain Woodhouse, General?" -</p> - -<p> -"Not a half hour ago. He called to report." -</p> - -<p> -"Seemed all right to you—this Woodhouse?" Capper -eyed the other's face narrowly. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course. Why not?" -</p> - -<p> -"Remember Cook, General! Remember -Hollister!" Capper warned. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall exploded irritably: "What -the devil do you mean? What are you driving -at, man?" -</p> - -<p> -The little spy leaped to his feet in his excitement -and thrust his weasel face far across the -desk. -</p> - -<p> -"What do I mean? I mean this chap who -calls himself Woodhouse isn't Woodhouse at all. -He's a German spy—from the Wilhelmstrasse—with -a number from the Wilhelmstrasse! -He's on the Rock to do a spy's work!" -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-184"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-184.jpg" alt="He's a German spy.'" /> -<br /> -"He's a German spy." -</p> - -<p> -"Pshaw! Why did Brussels let you go?" General -Crandall tipped back in his seat and -cast an amused glance at the flushed face -before him. -</p> - -<p> -Capper shook his head doggedly. "I'm not -drunk, General Crandall. I'm so broke I -couldn't get drunk if I would. So help me, I'm -telling God's truth. I got it straight——" -</p> - -<p> -Capper checked his tumult of words, and did -some rapid thinking. How much did he dare -reveal! "In Alexandria, General—got it -there—from the inside, sir. Koch is the head of the -Wilhelmstrasse crowd there—the same Cook -you knew in Rangoon; he engineered the trick. -The wildest dreams of the Wilhelmstrasse have -come true. They've got a man in your signal -tower, General—in your signal tower!" -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall, in whom incredulity was -beginning to give way to the first faint -glimmerings of conviction as to the possibility of -truth in the informer's tale, rallied himself -nevertheless to combat an aspersion cast on -a British officer. -</p> - -<p> -"Suppose the Germans have a spy in my -signal tower or anywhere here," he began -argumentatively. "Suppose they learn every nook -and corner of the Rock—have the caliber and -range of every gun in our defense; they -couldn't capture Gibraltar in a thousand -years." -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know what they want," Capper -returned, with the injured air of a man whose -worth fails of recognition. "I only came here -to warn you that your Captain Woodhouse is -taking orders from Berlin." -</p> - -<p> -"Come—come, man! Give me some proof to -back up this cock-and-bull story," General -Crandall snapped. He had risen, and was -pacing nervously back and forth. -</p> - -<p> -Capper was secretly elated at this sign that -his story had struck home. He stilled the -fluttering of his hands by an effort, and tried to -bring his voice to the normal. -</p> - -<p> -"Here it is, General—all I've got of the story. -The real Woodhouse comes down from somewhere -up in the Nile—I don't know where—and -puts up for the night in Alexandria to wait -for the <i>Princess Mary</i>. No friends in the town, -you know; nowhere to visit. Three Wilhelmstrasse -men in Alexandria, headed by that -clever devil Cook, or Koch, who calls himself a -doctor now. Somehow they get hold of the -real Woodhouse and do for him—what I don't -know—probably kill the poor devil. -</p> - -<p> -"General, I saw with my own eyes an unconscious -British officer being carried away from -Koch's house in Ramleh in an automobile—two -men with him." Capper fixed the governor -with a lean index finger dramatically. "And -I saw the man you just this morning received as -Captain Woodhouse leave Doctor Koch's house -five minutes after that poor devil—the real -Woodhouse—had been carried off. That's the -reason I took the same boat with him to -Gibraltar, General Crandall—because I'm loyal -and it was my duty to warn you." -</p> - -<p> -"Incredible!" -</p> - -<p> -"One thing more, General." Capper was -sorely tempted, but for the minute his -wholesome fear of consequences curbed his tongue. -"Woodhouse isn't working alone on the Rock; -you can be sure of that. He's got friends to -help him turn whatever trick he's after—maybe -in this very house. They're clever people, -you can mark that down on your slate!" -</p> - -<p> -"Ridiculous!" The keeper of the Rock was -fighting not to believe now. "Why, I tell you -if they had a hundred of their spies inside the -lines—if they knew the Rock as well as I do -they could never take it." -</p> - -<p> -Capper rose wearily, the air of a misunderstood -man on him. -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps they aren't trying to capture it. I -know nothing about that. Well—I've done my -duty—as one Englishman to another. I hope -I've told you in time. I'll be going now." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall swung on him sharply. -"Where are you going?" he demanded. -</p> - -<p> -Capper shrugged his shoulders hopelessly. -Now was the minute he'd been counting on—the -peeling of crackling notes from a fat bundle, -the handsome words of appreciation. -Surely General Crandall was ripe. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, General, frankly—I'm broke. Haven't -a shilling to bless myself with. I thought -perhaps——" Capper shot a keen glance at the -older man's face, which was partly turned from -him. The general appeared to be pondering. -He turned abruptly on the spy. -</p> - -<p> -"A few drinks and you might talk," he challenged. -</p> - -<p> -Capper grinned deprecatively. "I don't -know, General—I might," he murmured. "I've -been away from the drink so long that——" -</p> - -<p> -"Where do you want to go?" General Crandall -cut him off. "Of course, you don't want to -stay here indefinitely." -</p> - -<p> -"Well—if I had a bit of money—they tell me -everybody's broke in Paris. Millionaires—and -everybody, you know. You can get a room at -the Ritz for the asking. That would be heaven -for me—if I had something in my pocket." -</p> - -<p> -"You want to go to Paris, eh?" General -Crandall stepped closer to Capper, and his eyes -narrowed in scorn. -</p> - -<p> -"If it could be arranged, yes, General." Capper -was spinning the brim of his bowler between -nervous fingers. He did not dare meet -the other's glance. -</p> - -<p> -"Demmit, Capper! You come here to blackmail -me! I've met your kind before. I know -how to deal with your ilk." -</p> - -<p> -"So help me, General, I came here to tell you -the truth. I want to go to Paris—or anywhere -away from here; I'll admit that. But that had -nothing to do with my coming all the way here -from Alexandria—spending my last guinea on -a steamer ticket—to warn you of your danger. -I'm an Englishman and—loyal!" Capper was -pleading now. All hope of reward had sped and -the vision of a cell with subsequent investigations -into his own record appalled him. General -Crandall sat down at his desk and began -to write. -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know—at any rate, I can't have you -talking around here. You're going to Paris." -</p> - -<p> -Capper dropped his hat. At a tap of the bell, -Jaimihr Khan appeared at the doors, so -suddenly that one might have said he was right -behind them all the time. General Crandall -directed that his orderly be summoned. When -the subaltern appeared, the general handed him -a sealed note. -</p> - -<p> -"Orderly, turn this gentleman over to Sergeant -Crosby at once," he commanded, "and -give the sergeant this note." Then to -Capper: "You will cross to Algeciras, where you -will be put on a train for Madrid. You will -have a ticket for Paris and twenty shillings -for expense en route. You will be allowed to -talk to no one alone before you leave Gibraltar, -and under no circumstances will you be allowed -to return—not while I am governor-general, -at least." -</p> - -<p> -Capper, his face alight with new-found joy, -turned to pass out with the orderly. He -paused at the doorway to frame a speech of -thanks, but General Crandall's back was -toward him. "Paris!" he sighed in rapture, -and the doors closed behind him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap12"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XII -<br /> -HER COUNTRY'S EXAMPLE -</h3> - -<p> -"Do you know, my dear, Cynthia Maxwell -is simply going to die with envy -when she sees me in this!" -</p> - -<p> -The plump little mistress of Government -House, standing before a full-length mirror, -in her boudoir, surveyed herself with intense -satisfaction. Her arms and neck burst startlingly -from the clinging sheath of the incomparable -Doeuillet gown that was Jane Gerson's -douceur for official protection; in the flood -of morning light pouring through the -mullioned windows Lady Crandall seemed a -pink and white—and somewhat florid—lily in -bloom out of time. Hildebrand's buyer, on -her knees and with deft fingers busy with the -soft folds of the skirt, answered through a -mouthful of pins: -</p> - -<p> -"Poor Cynthia; my heart goes out to her." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, it needn't!" Lady Crandall answered, -with a tilting of her strictly Iowa style nose. -"The Maxwell person has made me bleed more -than once here on the Rock with the gowns a -fond mama sends her from Paris. But, -honestly, isn't this a bit low for a staid -middle-aged person like myself? I'm afraid I'll -have trouble getting my precious Doeuillet -past the censor." Lady Crandall plumed -herself with secret joy. -</p> - -<p> -Jane looked up, puzzled. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that's old Lady Porter—a perfect dragon," -the general's wife rattled on. "Poor old -dear; she thinks the Lord put her on the Rock -for a purpose. Her own collars get higher -and higher. I believe if she ever was presented -at court she'd emulate the old Scotch lady -who followed the law of décolleté, but -preserved her self-respect by wearing a red -flannel chest protector. You must meet her." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm afraid I won't have time to get a look -at your dragon," Jane returned, with a little -laugh, all happiness. "Now that Sir George -has promised me I can sail on the <i>Saxonia</i> -Friday——" -</p> - -<p> -"You really must——" The envious eyes -of Lady Crandall fell on the pile of -plans—potent Delphic mysteries to charm the heart -of woman—that lay scattered about upon the -floor. -</p> - -<p> -Jane sat back on her heels and surveyed the -melting folds of satin with an artist's eye. -</p> - -<p> -"If you only knew—what it means to me to -get back with my baskets full of French -beauties! Why, when I screwed up my courage -two months ago to go to old Hildebrand and -ask him to send me abroad as his buyer—I'd -been studying drawing and French at nights -for three years in preparation, you see—he -roared like the dear old lion he is and said I -was too young. But I cooed and pleaded, and -at last he said I could come—on trial, and -so——" -</p> - -<p> -"He'll purr like a pussy-cat when you get -back," Lady Crandall put in, with a pat on the -brown head at her knees. -</p> - -<p> -"Maybe. If I can slip into New York with -my little baskets while all the other buyers -are still over here, cabling tearfully for money -to get home or asking their firms to send a -warship to fetch them—why, I guess the -pennant's mine all right." -</p> - -<p> -The eternal feminine, so strong in Iowa's -transplanted stock, prompted a mischievous -question: -</p> - -<p> -"Then you won't be leaving somebody -behind when you sail—somebody who seemed -awfully nice and—<i>foreigny</i> and all that? All -our American girls find the moonlight over on -this side infectious. Witness me—a 'finishing -trip' abroad after school days—and see where -I've finished—on a Rock!" Lady Crandall -bubbled laughter. A shrewd downward sweep -of her eye was just in time to catch a flush -mounting to Jane's cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, a Mysterious Stranger has crossed -my path," Jane admitted. "He was very nice, -but mysterious." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh!" A delighted gurgle from the older -woman. "Tell me all about it—a secret for -these ancient walls to hear." -</p> - -<p> -Jane was about to reply when second -thought checked her tongue. Before her -flashed that strange meeting with Captain -Woodhouse the night before—his denial of -their former meeting, followed by his curious -insistence on her keeping faith with him by -not revealing the fact of their acquaintance. -She had promised—why she had promised she -could no more divine than the reason for his -asking; but a promise it was that she would -not betray his confidence. More than once -since that minute in the reception room of the -Hotel Splendide Jane Gerson had reviewed the -whole baffling circumstance in her mind and -a growing resentment at this stranger's -demand, as well as at her own compliance -with it, was rising in her heart. Still, -this Captain Woodhouse was "different," -and—this Jane sensed without effort to -analyze—the mystery which he threw about himself -but served to set him apart from the common -run of men. She evaded Lady Crandall's -probing with a shrug of the shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"It's a secret which I myself do not know, -Lady Crandall—and never will." -</p> - -<p> -Back to the o'erweening lure of the gown -the flitting fancy of the general's lady betook -itself. -</p> - -<p> -"You—don't think this is a shade too young -for me, Miss Gerson?" Anxiety pleaded to -be quashed. -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense!" Jane laughed. -</p> - -<p> -"But I'm no chicken, my dear. If you -would look me up in our family Bible back in -Davenport you'd find——" -</p> - -<p> -"People don't believe everything they read -in the Bible any more," Jane assured her. -"Your record and Jonah's would both be open -to doubt." -</p> - -<p> -"You're very comforting," Lady Crandall -beamed. Her maid knocked and entered on -the lady's crisp: "Come!" -</p> - -<p> -"The general wishes to see you, Lady -Crandall, in the library." -</p> - -<p> -"Tell the general I'm in the midst of trying -on——" Lady Crandall began, then thought -better of her excuse. She dropped the -shimmering gown from her shoulders and slipped -into a kimono. -</p> - -<p> -"Some stuffy plan for entertaining somebody -or other, my dear"—this to Jane. "The -real burden of being governor-general of the -Rock falls on the general's wife. Just slip -into your bonnet, and when I'm back we'll take -that little stroll through the Alameda I've -promised you for this morning." She clutched -her kimono about her and whisked out of the -room. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall, just rid of the dubious -pleasure of Billy Capper's company, was pacing -the floor of the library office thoughtfully. -He looked up with a smile at his wife's -entrance. -</p> - -<p> -"Helen, I want you to do something for me," -he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Certainly, dear." Lady Crandall was not -an unpleasing picture of ripe beauty to look -on, in the soft drape of her Japanese robe. -Even in his worry, General Crandall found -himself intrigued for the minute. -</p> - -<p> -"There's a new chap in the signal service—just -in from Egypt—name's Woodhouse. I -wish you would invite him to tea, my dear." -</p> - -<p> -"Of course; any day." -</p> - -<p> -"This afternoon, if you please, Helen," the -general followed. -</p> - -<p> -His wife looked slightly puzzled. -</p> - -<p> -"This afternoon? But, George, dear, isn't -that—aren't you—ah—rushing this young -man to have him up to Government House so -soon after his arrival?" She suddenly -remembered something that caused her to -reverse herself. "Besides, I've asked him to -dinner—the dinner I'm to give the Americans -to-morrow night before they sail." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall looked his surprise. -</p> - -<p> -"You didn't tell me that. I didn't know you -had met him." -</p> - -<p> -"Just happened to," Lady Crandall cut in -hastily. "Met him at the Hotel Splendide last -night when I brought Miss Gerson home with me." -</p> - -<p> -"What was Woodhouse doing at the Splendide?" -the general asked suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, spending the night, you foolish boy. -Just off the <i>Princess Mary</i>, he was. I believe -he did Miss Gerson some sort of a service—and -I met him in that way—quite informally." -</p> - -<p> -"Did Miss Gerson—a service—hum!" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, a trifling thing! It seemed she had -only French money, and that cautious Almer -fellow wouldn't accept it. Captain Woodhouse -gave her English gold for it—to pay her bill. -But why——" -</p> - -<p> -"Has Miss Gerson seen him since?" General -Crandall asked sharply. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, George, dear, how could she? We -haven't been up from the breakfast table an -hour." -</p> - -<p> -"Woodhouse was here less than an hour ago -to pay his duty call and report," he explained. -"I thought perhaps he might have met our -guest somewhere in the garden as he was -coming or going." -</p> - -<p> -"He did send her some lovely roses." Lady -Crandall brightened at this, to her, patent -inception of a romance; she doted on romances. -"They were in Miss Gerson's room before she -was down to breakfast." -</p> - -<p> -"Roses, eh? And they met informally at -the Splendide only last night." Suspicion -was weighing the general's words. "Isn't -that a bit sudden? I say, do you think Miss -Gerson and this Captain Woodhouse had met -somewhere before last night?" -</p> - -<p> -"I hardly think so—she on her first trip to -the Continent and he coming from Egypt. -But——" -</p> - -<p> -"No matter. I want him here to tea this -afternoon." The general dismissed the -subject and turned to his desk. His lady's -curiosity would not be so lightly turned away. -</p> - -<p> -"All these questions—aren't they rather -absurd? Is anything wrong?" She ran up to -him and laid her hands on his shoulders. -</p> - -<p> -"Of course not, dear." He kissed her -lightly on the brow. "Now run along and play -with that new gown Miss Gerson gave you. I -imagine that's the most important thing on -the Rock to-day." -</p> - -<p> -Lady Crandall gave her soldier-husband a -peck on each cheek, and slapped back to her -room. When he was alone again, General -Crandall resumed his restless pacing. Resolution -suddenly crystallized, and he stepped to -the desk telephone. He called a number. -</p> - -<p> -"That you, Bishop? ... General Crandall -speaking.... Bishop, you were here on the -Rock seven years ago? ... Good! ... Pretty -good memory for names and faces, -eh? ... Right! ... I want you to come to -Government House for tea at five this afternoon.... -But run over for a little talk with me some -time earlier—an hour from now, say. Rather -important.... You'll be here.... Thank -you." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall sat at his desk and tried to -bring himself down to the routine crying from -accumulated papers there. But the canker -Billy Capper had implanted in his mind would -not give him peace. Major-general Crandall -was a man cast in the stolid British mold; -years of army discipline and tradition of the -service had given to his conservatism a hard -grain. In common with most of those in high -command, he held to the belief that nothing -existed—nothing could exist—which was not -down in the regulations of the war office, made -and provided. For upward of twenty-five -years he had played the hard game of the -service—in Egypt, in Burma, on the broiling -rocks of Aden, and here, at last, on the key -to the Mediterranean. During all those years -he had faithfully pursued his duty, had stowed -away in his mind the wisdom disseminated in -blue-bound books by that corporate paragon of -knowledge at home, the war office. But never -had he read in anything but fluffy fiction of a -place or a thing called the Wilhelmstrasse, -reputed by the scriveners to be the darkest -closet and the most potent of all the secret -chambers of diplomacy. The regulations made no -mention of a Wilhelmstrasse, even though -they provided the brand of pipe clay that -should brighten men's pith helmets and -stipulated to the ounce an emergency ration. -Therefore, to the official military mind at -least, the Wilhelmstrasse was non-existent. -</p> - -<p> -But here comes a beach-comber, a miserable -jackal from the back alleys of society, and -warns the governor-general of the Rock that -he has a man from the Wilhelmstrasse—a spy -bent on some unfathomable mission—in his -very forces on the Rock. He says that an -agent of the enemy has dared masquerade as -a British officer in order to gain admission -inside the lines of Europe's most impregnable -fortress, England's precious stronghold, there -to do mischief! -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall's tremendous responsibility -would not permit him to ignore such a -warning, coming even from so low a source. -Yet the man found himself groping blindly in -the dark before the dilemma presented; he had -no foot rule of precept or experience to guide -him. -</p> - -<p> -His fruitless searching for a prop in -emergency was broken by the appearance of Jane -Gerson in the door opening from Lady Crandall's -rooms to the right of the library. The -girl was dressed for the out-of-doors; in her -arms was a fragrant bunch of blood-red roses, -spraying out from the top of a bronze bowl. -The girl hesitated and drew back in confusion -at seeing the room occupied; she seemed eager -to escape undetected. But General Crandall -smilingly checked her flight. -</p> - -<p> -"I—I thought you would be out," Jane -stammered, "and——" -</p> - -<p> -"And the posies——" the general interrupted. -</p> - -<p> -"Were for you to enjoy when you should -come back." She smiled easily into the man's -eyes. "They'll look so much prettier here -than in my room." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good of you, I'm sure." General -Crandall stepped up to the rich cluster of buds -and sniffed critically. Without looking at the -girl, he continued: "It appears to me as -though you had already made a conquest on -the Rock. One doesn't pick these from the -cliffs, you know." -</p> - -<p> -"I should hardly call it a conquest," Jane -answered, with a sprightly toss of her head. -</p> - -<p> -"But a young man sent you these flowers. -Come—confess!" The general's tone was -bantering, but his eyes did not leave the -piquant face under the chic summer straw hat -that shaded it. -</p> - -<p> -"Surely. One of your own men—Captain -Woodhouse, of the signal service." Jane was -rearranging the stems in the bowl, apparently -ready to accept what was on the surface of -the general's rallying. -</p> - -<p> -"Woodhouse, eh? You've known him for -a long time, I take it." -</p> - -<p> -"Since last night, General. And yet some -people say Englishmen are slow." She -laughed gaily and turned to face him. His -voice took on a subtle quality of polite -insistence: -</p> - -<p> -"Surely you met him somewhere before Gibraltar." -</p> - -<p> -"How could I, when this is the first time -Captain Woodhouse has been out of Egypt for -years?" -</p> - -<p> -"Who told you that?" The general was -quick to catch her up. The girl felt a swift -stab of fear. On the instant she realized that -here was somebody attempting to drive into -the mystery which she herself could not -understand, but which she had pledged herself -to keep inviolate. Her voice fluttered in her -throat as she answered: -</p> - -<p> -"Why, he did himself, General." -</p> - -<p> -"He did, eh? Gave you a bit of his history -on first meeting. Confiding chap, what! But -you, Miss Gerson—you've been to Egypt, you -say?" -</p> - -<p> -"No, General." -</p> - -<p> -Jane was beginning to find this cross-examination -distinctly painful. She felt that already -her pledge, so glibly given at Captain -Woodhouse's insistence, was involving her in -a situation the significance of which might -prove menacing to herself—and one other. -She could sense the beginnings of a strain -between herself and this genial elderly -gentleman, her host. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know, Miss Gerson"—he was speaking -soberly now—"I believe you and Captain -Woodhouse have met before." -</p> - -<p> -"You're at liberty to think anything you like, -General—the truth or otherwise." Her answer, -though given smilingly, had a sting behind it. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm not going to think much longer. I'm -going to <i>know</i>!" He clapped his lips shut over -the last word with a smack of authority. -</p> - -<p> -"Are you really, General Crandall?" The -girl's eyes hardened just perceptibly. He took -a turn of the room and paused, facing her. The -situation pleased him no more than it did his -breezy guest, but he knew his duty and -doggedly pursued it. -</p> - -<p> -"Come—come, Miss Gerson! I believe you're -straightforward and sincere or I wouldn't be -wasting my time this way. I'll be the same -with you. This is a time of war; you understand -all that implies, I hope. A serious question -concerning Captain Woodhouse's position -here has arisen. If you have met him before—as -I think you have—it will be to your advantage -to tell me where and when. I am in command -of the Rock, you know." -</p> - -<p> -He finished with an odd tenseness of tone that -conveyed assurance of his authority even more -than did the sense of his words. His guest, her -back to the table on which the roses rested and -her hands bracing her by their tense grip on -the table edge, sought his eyes boldly. -</p> - -<p> -"General Crandall," she began, "my training -in Hildebrand's store hasn't made me much of -a diplomat. All this war and intrigue makes -me dizzy. But I know one thing: this isn't my -war, or my country's, and I'm going to follow -my country's example and keep out of it." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall shrugged his shoulders and -smiled at the girl's defiance. -</p> - -<p> -"Maybe your country may not be able to do -that," he declared, with a touch of solemnity. -"I pray God it may. But I'm afraid your -resolution will not hold, Miss Gerson." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm going to try to make it, anyway," she -answered. -</p> - -<p> -Gibraltar's commander, baffled thus by a -neutral—a neutral fair to look on, in the -bargain—tried another tack. He assumed the -fatherly air. -</p> - -<p> -"Lady Crandall and I have tried to show you -we were friends—tried to help you get home," -he began. -</p> - -<p> -"You've been very good to me," Jane broke in -feelingly. -</p> - -<p> -"What I say now is spoken as a friend, not -as governor of the Rock. If it is true that you -have met Woodhouse before—and our conversation -here verifies my suspicion—that very -fact makes his word worthless and releases -you from any promise you may have made not -to reveal this and what you may know about -him. Also it should put you on your guard—his -motives in any attentions he may pay you -can not be above suspicion." -</p> - -<p> -"I think that is a personal matter I am perfectly -capable of handling." Jane's resentment -sent the flags to her cheeks. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall was quick to back-water: -"Yes, yes! Don't misunderstand me. What I -mean to say is——" -</p> - -<p> -He was interrupted by his wife's voice calling -for Jane from the near-by room. Anticipating -her interruption, he hurried on: -</p> - -<p> -"For the present, Miss Gerson, we'll drop -this matter. I said a few minutes ago I -intended shortly to—<i>know</i>. I hope I won't have -to carry out that—threat." -</p> - -<p> -Jane was withdrawing one of the buds from -the jar. At his last word, she dropped it with -a little gasp. -</p> - -<p> -"Threat, General?" -</p> - -<p> -"I hope not. Truly I hope not. But, young -woman——" -</p> - -<p> -She stooped, picked up the flower, and was -setting it in his buttonhole before he could -remonstrate. -</p> - -<p> -"This one was for you, General," she said, -and the truce was sealed. That minute, Lady -Crandall was wafted into the room on the -breeze of her own staccato interruption. -</p> - -<p> -"What's this—what's this! Flirting with -poor old George—pinning a rose on my revered -husband when my back's turned? Brazen miss. -I'm here to take you off to the gardens at once, -where you can find somebody younger—and not -near so dear—to captivate with your tricks. -At once, now!" -</p> - -<p> -She had her arm through Jane's and was -marching her off. An exchange of glances -between the governor and Hildebrand's young -diplomat of the dollar said that what had passed -between them was a confidence. -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan announced Major Bishop to -the general a short time later. The major, a -rotund pink-faced man of forty, who had the -appearance of being ever tubbed and groomed -to the pink of parade perfection, saluted his -superior informally, accepted a cigarette and -crossed his plump legs in an easy chair near the -general's desk. General Crandall folded his -arms on his desk and went direct to his subject: -</p> - -<p> -"Major, you were here on the Rock seven -years ago, you say?" -</p> - -<p> -"Here ten years, General. Regular rock -scorpion—old-timer." -</p> - -<p> -"Do you happen to recall this chap Woodhouse -whom I sent to you to report for duty in -the signal tower to-day? Has transfer papers -from Wady Halfa." -</p> - -<p> -"Haven't met him yet, though Captain Carson -tells me he reported at my office a little -more than an hour ago—see him after parade. -Woodhouse—Woodhouse——" The major -propped his chin on his fingers in thought. -</p> - -<p> -"His papers—army record and all that—say -he was here on the Rock for three months in -the spring of nineteen-seven," General Crandall -urged, to refresh the other's memory. -</p> - -<p> -Major Bishop stroked his round cheeks, tugged -at one ear, but found recollection difficult. -</p> - -<p> -"When I see the chap—so many coming and -going, you know. Three months—bless me! -That's a thin slice out of ten years." -</p> - -<p> -"Major, I'm going to take you into my -confidence," the senior officer began; then he -related the incident of Capper's visit and repeated -the charge he had made. Bishop sat aghast at -the word "spy." -</p> - -<p> -"Woodhouse will be here to tea this afternoon," -continued Crandall. "While you and I -ask him a few leading questions, I'll have -Jaimihr, my Indian, search his room in barracks. I -trust Jaimihr implicitly, and he can do the job -smoothly. Now, Bishop, what do you remember -about nineteen-seven—something we can -lead up to in conversation, you know?" -</p> - -<p> -The younger man knuckled his brow for a -minute, then looked up brightly. -</p> - -<p> -"I say, General, Craigen was governor then. -But—um—aren't you a bit—mild; this asking -of a suspected spy to tea?" -</p> - -<p> -"What can I do?" the other replied, somewhat -testily. "I can't clap an officer of his -majesty's army into prison on the mere say-so -of a drunken outcast who has no proof to offer. -I must go slowly, Major. Watch for a slip from -this Woodhouse. One bad move on his part, -and he starts on his way to face a firing squad." -</p> - -<p> -Bishop had risen and was slowly pacing the -room, his eyes on the walls, hung with many -portraits in oils. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, you can't help admiring the nerve of -the chap," he muttered, half to himself. -"Forcing his way on to the Rock—why, he might as -well put his head in a cannon's mouth." -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't time to admire," the general said -shortly. "Thing to do is to act." -</p> - -<p> -"Quite right. Nineteen-seven, eh? Um——" -</p> - -<p> -He paused before the portrait of a young -woman in a Gainsborough hat and with a -sparkling piquant face. "By George, General, -why not try him on Lady Evelyn? There's a -fair test for you, now!" -</p> - -<p> -"You mean Craigen's wife?" The general -looked up at the portrait quizzically. -"Skeleton's bones, Bishop." -</p> - -<p> -"Right; but no man who ever saw her could -forget. I know I never can. Poor Craigen!" -</p> - -<p> -"Good idea, though," the older man -acquiesced. "We'll trip him on Lady Evelyn." -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan appeared at the double doors. -"The general sahib's orderly," he announced. -The young subaltern entered and saluted. -</p> - -<p> -"That young man, General Crandall, the one -Sergeant Crosby was to escort out of the lines -to Algeciras——" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, what of him? He's gone, I hope." -</p> - -<p> -"First train to Madrid, General; but he left -a message for you, sir, to be delivered after -he'd gone, he said." -</p> - -<p> -"A message?" General Crandall was perplexed. -</p> - -<p> -"As Sergeant Crosby had it and gave it to -me to repeat to you, sir, it was, 'Arrest the -cigar girl calling herself Josepha. She is one of -the cleverest spies of the Wilhelmstrasse.'" -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap13"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIII -<br /> -ENTER, A CIGARETTE -</h3> - -<p> -Mr. Joseph Almer, proprietor of the -Hotel Splendide, on Waterport Street, -was absorbed, heart and soul, in a curious task. -He was emptying the powder from two-grain -quinine capsules on to a sheet of white letter -paper on his desk. -</p> - -<p> -It was noon of Wednesday, the day following -the arrival of Captain Woodhouse. Almer was -alone in the hotel's reception room and office -behind the dingy glass partially enclosing his -desk. His alpaca-covered shoulders were close -to his ears; and his bald head, with its stripes -of plastered hair running like thick lines of -latitude on a polished globe, was held far -forward so as to bring his eyes on the work in -hand. Like some plump magpie he appeared, -turning over bits of china in a treasure hole. -</p> - -<p> -A round box of the gelatine cocoons lay at his -left hand; it had just been delivered by an -Arab boy, quick to pick up the street commission -for a tuppence. Very methodically Almer -picked the capsules from the box one by one, -opened them, and spilled the quinine in a little -heap under his nose. He grunted peevishly -when the sixth shell had been emptied. The -seventh capsule brought an eager whistle to -his lips. When he had jerked the concentric -halves apart, very little powder fell out. -Instead, the thin, folded edges of a pellet of rice -paper protruded from one of the containers. -This Almer had extracted in an instant. He -spread it against the black back of a ledger and -read the very fine script written thereon. This -was the message: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Danger. An informer from Alexandria has -denounced our two friends to Crandall. You -must warn; I can not." -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -The spy's heart was suddenly drained, and -the wisp of paper in his hand trembled so that -it scattered the quinine about in a thin cloud. -Once more he read the note, then held a match -to it and scuffed its feathery ash with his feet -into the rug beneath his stool. The fortitude -which had held Joseph Almer to the Rock in -the never-failing hope that some day would -bring him the opportunity to do a great service -for the fatherland came near crumbling that -minute. He groaned. -</p> - -<p> -"Our friends," he whispered, "Woodhouse -and Louisa—trapped!" -</p> - -<p> -The warning in the note left nothing open to -ambiguity for Almer; there were but four of -them—"friends" under the Wilhelmstrasse -fellowship of danger—there in Gibraltar: -Louisa, the man who passed as Woodhouse, -and whose hand was to execute the great coup -when the right moment came, himself, and that -other one whose place was in Government -House itself. From this latter the note of -warning had come. How desperate the necessity -for it Almer could guess when he took into -reckoning the dangers that beset any attempt -at communication on the writer's part. So -narrow the margin of safety for this "friend" -that he must look at each setting sun as being -reasonably the last for him. -</p> - -<p> -Almer did not attempt to go behind the note -and guess who was the informer that had -lodged information with the governor-general. -He had forgotten, in fact, the incident of the -night before, when the blustering Capper called -the newly arrived Woodhouse by name. The -flash of suspicion that attached responsibility -to the American girl named Gerson was -dissipated as quickly as it came; she had arrived -by motor from Paris, not on the boat from -Alexandria. His was now the imperative duty -to carry warning to the two suspected, not to -waste time in idle speculation as to the identity -of the betrayer. There was but one ray of -hope in this sudden pall of gloom, and that -Almer grasped eagerly. He knew the -character of General Crandall—the phlegmatic -conservatism of the man, which would not easily -be jarred out of an accustomed line of thought -and action. The general would be slow to leap -at an accusation brought against one wearing -the stripes of service; and, though he might -reasonably attempt to test Captain Woodhouse, -one such as Woodhouse, chosen by the Wilhelmstrasse -to accomplish so great a mission, would -surely have the wit to parry suspicion. -</p> - -<p> -Yes, he must be put on his guard. As for -Louisa—well, it would be too bad if the girl -should have to put her back against a wall; -but she could be spared; she was not essential. -After he had succeeded in getting word of his -danger to Woodhouse, Almer would consider -saving Louisa from a firing squad. The nimble -mind of Herr Almer shook itself free from the -incubus of dread and leaped to the exigency of -the moment. Calling his head waiter to keep -warm the chair behind the desk, Almer retired -to his room, and there was exceedingly busy -for half an hour. -</p> - -<p> -The hour of parade during war time on Gibraltar -was one o'clock. At that time, six days -a week, the half of the garrison not actually in -fighting position behind the great guns of the -defense marched to the parade grounds down -by the race track and there went through the -grilling regimen that meant perfection and -the maintenance of a hair-trigger state of -efficiency. Down from the rocky eminences where -the barracks stood, marched this day block after -block of olive-drab fighting units—artillerymen -for the most part, equipped with the rifle and -pack of infantrymen. No blare of brass music -gave the measure to their step; bandsmen in -this time of reality paced two by two, stretchers -carried between them. All the curl and snap -of silken banners that made the parade a -moving spectacle in ordinary times was absent; -flags do not figure in the grim modern business -of warfare. Just those solid blocks of men -trained to kill, sweeping down on to the level -grounds and massing, rank on rank, for -inspection and the trip-hammer pound-pound-pound -of evolutions to follow. Silent integers -of power, flexing their muscles for the supreme -test that any morning's sun might bring. -</p> - -<p> -Mr. Henry J. Sherman stood with his wife, -Kitty and Willy Kimball—Kimball had developed -a surprising interest in one of these -home folks, at least—under the shade of the -row of plane trees fringing the parade grounds. -They tried to persuade themselves that they -were seeing something worth while. This -pleasing fiction wore thin with Mr. Sherman -before fifteen minutes had passed. -</p> - -<p> -"Shucks, mother! The boys at the national-guard -encampment down to Galesburg fair last -year made a better showing than this." He -pursed out his lips and regarded a passing -battalion with a critical eye. -</p> - -<p> -"Looked more like soldiers, anyway," mother -admitted. "Those floppy, broad-brimmed hats -our boys wear make them look more—more -romantic, I'd say." -</p> - -<p> -"But, my dear Mrs. Sherman"—Willy Kimball -flicked his handkerchief from his cuff and -fluttered it across his coat sleeve, where dust -had fallen—"the guards back in the States are -play soldiers, you know; these chaps, here—well, -they are the real thing. They don't dress -up like picture-book soldiers and show off——" -</p> - -<p> -"Play soldiers—huh!" Henry J. had fire in -his eye, and the pearl buttons on his white linen -waistcoat creaked with the swelling of a -patriot's pride. "You've been a long time from -home, Willy. Perhaps you've forgotten that -your own father was at Corinth. Guess you've -overlooked that soldiers' monument in Courthouse -Square back in little old Kewanee. They -were 'play soldiers,' eh?—those boys who -marched away with your dad in sixty-one. -Gimme a regiment of those old boys in blue, and -they could lick this whole bunch of——" -</p> - -<p> -"Father!" Kitty had flipped her hand over -her parent's mouth, her eyes round with real -fear. "You'll get arrested again, talking that -way here where everybody can hear you. -Remember what that hotel man said last night -about careless remarks about military things -on the Rock? Be good, father." -</p> - -<p> -"There, there!" Sherman removed the monitory -hand and patted it reassuringly. "I forgot. -But when I get aboard the <i>Saxonia</i> and -well out to sea, I'm going to just bust -information about what I think of things in general -over here in this Europe place—their Bottycelly -pictures and their broken-down churches -and—and—— Why, bless my soul! The little -store buyer and that Iowa girl who's married -to the governor here!" -</p> - -<p> -The patriot stopped short in his review of the -Continent's delinquencies to wave his hat at -Lady Crandall and Jane Gerson, who were -trundling down under the avenue of planes in -a smart dog-cart. Lady Crandall answered his -hail with a flourish of her whip, turned her -horse off the road, and brought her conveyance -to a stop by the group of exiles. Hearty -greetings passed around. The governor's wife -showed her unaffected pleasure at the meeting. -</p> - -<p> -"I thought you wouldn't miss the parade," -she called down from her high seat. "Only -thing that moves on the Rock—these daily -reviews. Brought Miss Gerson down here so -when she gets back to New York she can say -she's seen the defenders of Gibraltar, if not in -action, at least doing their hard training for -it." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I don't mind tellin' you," Sherman -began defiantly, "I think the national guard of -Illynoy can run circles around these Englishmen -when it comes to puttin' up a show. Now, -Kitty, don't you try to drive a plug in your -dad's sentiments again; Mrs. Crandall's all -right—one of us." A shocked look from his -daughter. "Oh, there I go again, forgettin'. -Lady Crandall, I mean. Excuse me, ma'am." -</p> - -<p> -"Don't you dare apologize," the governor's -wife playfully threatened Mr. Sherman with -her whip. "I love the sound of good, -old-fashioned 'Missis.' Just imagine—married five -years, and nobody has called me 'Mrs. Crandall' -until you did just now. 'Wedded, But Not a -Missis'; wouldn't that be a perfectly gorgeous -title for a Laura Jean novel? Miss Gerson, let's -hop out and join these home folks; they're my -kind." -</p> - -<p> -The burst of laughter that greeted Lady -Crandall's sally was not over before she had -leaped nimbly from her high perch, Henry -J. gallantly assisting. Jane followed, and the -coachman from his little bob seat in the back -drove the dog-cart over the road to wait his -mistress' pleasure. The scattered blocks of -olive-gray on the field had coalesced into a solid -regiment now, and the long double rank of -men was sweeping forward like the cutting arm -of a giant mower. The party of Americans -joined the sparse crowd of spectators at the -edge of the field, the better to see. Jane -Gerson found herself chatting with Willy Kimball -and Kitty Sherman a little apart from the -others. A light touch fell on her elbow. She -turned to find Almer, the hotel keeper, smiling -deferentially. -</p> - -<p> -"Pardon—a thousand pardons for the intrusion, -lady. I am Almer, of the Hotel Splendide." -</p> - -<p> -"You haven't remembered something more I -owe you," Jane challenged bruskly. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no, lady!" Almer spread out his hands. -"I happened to see you here watching the -parade, and I remembered a trivial duty I have -which, if I may be so bold as to ask, you may -discharge much more quickly than I—if you -will." -</p> - -<p> -"I discharge a duty—for you?" The girl -did not conceal her puzzlement. Almer's -hand fumbled in a pocket of his flapping alpaca -coat and produced a plain silver cigarette case, -unmonogrammed. She looked at it wonderingly. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse—you met him at my -hotel last night, lady. He left this lying on his -dresser when he quit his room to go to barracks -to-day. For me it is difficult to send a -messenger with it to the barracks—war time, -lady—many restrictions inside the lines. I -came here hoping perhaps to see the captain -after the parade. But you——" -</p> - -<p> -"You wish me to give this to Captain Woodhouse?" -Jane finished, a flicker of annoyance -crossing her face. "Why me?" -</p> - -<p> -"You are at Government House, lady. Captain -Woodhouse comes to tea—all newcomers -to the garrison do that. If you would be so -good——" -</p> - -<p> -Jane took the cigarette case from Almer's -outstretched hand. Lady Crandall had told her -the captain would be in for tea that afternoon. -It was a small matter, this accommodation, as -long as Almer did not insinuate—as he had not -done—any impertinence; imply any over eagerness -on her part to perform so minor a service -for the officer. Almer bowed his thanks and -lost himself in the crowd. Jane turned again -to where Kitty and Kimball were chatting. -</p> - -<p> -"A dun for extra service the landlord forgot -last night, I'll wager," the youth greeted her. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, no, just a little present," Jane laughed -back at him, holding up the silver case. "With -Almer's compliments to Captain Woodhouse, -who forgot it when he gave up his room to-day. -I've promised to turn it over to the captain and -save the hotel man a lot of trouble and red tape -getting a messenger through to the captain's -quarters." -</p> - -<p> -"By Jove!" Kimball's tired eyes lighted up -with a quick flash of smoker's yearning. "A -life-saver! Came away from my room without -my pet Egyptians—Mr. Sherman yelling at me -to hurry or we'd miss this slow show and all -that. I'm going to play the panhandler and beg -one of your captain friend's smokes. He must -be a good sort or you wouldn't be doing little -favors for him, Miss Gerson. Come, now; in -your capacity as temporary executrix will you -invest one of the captain's cigarettes in a -demand of real charity?" -</p> - -<p> -Keen desire was scarcely veiled under Kimball's -fiction of light patter. Smilingly the girl -extended the case to him. -</p> - -<p> -"Just to make it businesslike, the executrix -demands your note for—um—sixty days, say. -'For one cigarette received, I promise to -pay——'" -</p> - -<p> -"Given!" He pulled a gold pencil from his -pocket and made a pretense of writing the form -on his cuff. Then he lit his borrowed cigarette -and inhaled it gratefully. -</p> - -<p> -"Your captain friend's straight from Egypt; -I don't have to be told that," Willy Kimball -murmured, in polite ecstasy. "At Shepard's, -in Cairo, you'll get such a cigarette as this, -and nowhere else in a barren world. The -breath of the acanthus blossom—if it really -has a breath—never heard." -</p> - -<p> -"Back in Kewanee the Ladies' Aid Society -will have you arrested," Kitty put in -mischievously. "They're terribly wrought up over -cigarettes—for minors." -</p> - -<p> -Kimball cast her a glance of deep reproach. -As he lifted the cigarette to his lips for a -second puff, Jane's eyes mechanically followed the -movement. Something caught and held them, -wonder-filled. -</p> - -<p> -On the side of the white paper cylinder -nearest her a curious brown streak appeared—by -the merest freak of chance her glance fell on it. -As she looked, the thin stain grew darker nearest -the fresh ash. The farther end of the faint -tracing moved—yes, moved, like a threadworm -groping its way along a stick. -</p> - -<p> -"Now what are they all doing out there?" -Kitty Sherman was asking. "All those men -running top speed with their guns carried up -so high." -</p> - -<p> -"Bayonet charge," Kimball answered. "Nothing -like the real thing, of course." -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson was watching the twisting and -writhing of that filament of brown against the -white. An invisible hand was writing in -brown ink on the side of the cigarette—writing -backward and away from the burning tip. -It lengthened by seconds—"and Louisa to -Crandall." -</p> - -<p> -So the letters of silver nitrate formed -themselves under her eyes. Kimball took the -cigarette from his lips and held it by his side for -a minute. He and Kitty were busy with each -other's company for the time, ignoring Jane. -She burned with curiosity and with excitement -mounting like the fire of wine to her brain. -Would he never put that cigarette to his lips -again, so she could follow the invisible pen! -So fleeting, so evanescent that worm track -on the paper, wrought by fire and by -fire to be consumed. A mystery vanishing -even as it was aborning! After ages, the -unconscious Kimball set the cigarette again in -his lips. -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p class="noindent"> - "—nformer has denounced you and Louisa-t-<br /> - —play your game and he will be slow to——"<br /> -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Again the cigarette came away in Kimball's -hand. Acting on impulse she did not stop to -question, Jane struck it from the young man's -outstretched hand and set her foot on it as it -fell in the dust. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I'm clumsy!" She fell lightly against -Kimball's shoulder and caught herself in -well-simulated confusion. "Standing tiptoe to see -what that man on a horse is going to do—lost -my balance. And—and your precious -cigarette—gone!" -</p> - -<p> -The anguish in Jane Gerson's voice was not -play. It was real—terribly real. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap14"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIV -<br /> -THE CAPTAIN COMES TO TEA -</h3> - -<p> -Jane Gerson, alone for the first time -since the incident of the cigarette on the -parade ground a few hours back, sat before a -narrow window in her room at Government -House, fighting a great bewilderment. The -window opened on a varied prospect of blooming -gardens and sail-flecked bay beyond. But -for her eyes the riot of color and clash of -contrast between bald cliff and massed green had -no appeal. Her hands locked and unlocked -themselves on her lap. The girl's mind was -struggling to coordinate scattered circumstances -into a comprehensible whole, to grapple -with the ethical problem of her own conduct. -</p> - -<p> -What she knew, or thought she knew—and -what she should do—those were the two saber -points of the dilemma upon which she found -herself impaled. -</p> - -<p> -Could there now be any doubt of what she -felt to be the truth? First, she had met -Captain Woodhouse on the Express du Nord—an -officer in the English army, by his own -statement, returning from leave in England to his -post in Egypt. Then, the encounter of last -night at the Hotel Splendide, Captain Woodhouse -first denying his identity, then admitting -it under the enforced pledge that she should -not reveal the former meeting. Captain -Woodhouse, not in Egypt, but at Gibraltar, and, as -she had soon learned, there with papers of -transfer from an Egyptian post to the garrison -of the Rock. Following this surprise had come -General Crandall's dogged examination of that -morning—his blunt declaration that a serious -question as to the captain's position at -Gibraltar had arisen, and his equally plain-spoken -threat to have the truth from her concerning -her knowledge of the suspected officer. -</p> - -<p> -To cap all, the message on the cigarette! An -informer—she guessed the prefix to the -unfinished word—had denounced "you and Louisa" -to General Crandall. To whom the pronoun -referred was unmistakable—Almer's eagerness -to insure Captain Woodhouse's receiving the -cigarette case plainly defined that. As to -"Louisa," involved with Woodhouse, the girl -from Hildebrand's was sensible only of a passing -flash of curiosity, made a bit more piquant, -perhaps, by a little dart of jealousy, hardly -comprehended as such. A hotel keeper warns -an officer in the Gibraltar garrison that he has -been denounced, but in the same message -adjures him to "play your own game." That was -the single compelling fact. -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson flushed—in anger, or was it -through guilt?—when she found her lips -framing the word "spy"! -</p> - -<p> -Now she understood why General Crandall -had put her on the grill—why he, informed, -had leaped to the significance of the gift of -roses and deduced her previous acquaintance -with their donor. Her host was not, after all, -the possessor of magical powers of mind reading. -He was, instead, just the sober, conscientious -protector of the Rock on whom rested -responsibility for the lives of its defenders and -the maintenance of England's flag there. His -duty was to catch—and shoot—spies. -</p> - -<p> -Shoot spies! The girl's heart contracted at -the thought. No, no! She would not—she -could not reveal to the governor the knowledge -she had. That would be to send death to a -man as surely as if hers was the finger at the -trigger. -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson was on her feet now, pacing -the room. Over and over again she told herself -that this man who had come into her life, -obliquely enough, had no claim on her; had -brought nothing to her but distress. He had -deceived her even, and then, when caught in -the deception, had wrested from her a promise -that she would help him continue further -deception against others. Against her will he -had made her a party to some deep and audacious -plot, whose purpose she could not guess, -but which must be but a part of the huge -mystery of war. -</p> - -<p> -And soon this Captain Woodhouse was to -come to his trial—the purpose of his invitation -to tea that afternoon flashed clear as white -light. Soon she would be in the same room -with him; would be forced to witness the -spinning of the web set to trap him. He would -come unwarned, unsuspecting. He might leave -that room under guard and with guns at his -back—guns soon to be leveled at his heart. Yet -she, Jane Gerson, possessed the power to save -him—as the warning of the cigarette surely -would be saving, once a clever man were put on -his guard by it. -</p> - -<p> -Would she speak—and betray General Crandall, -her kindly host? Would she lock her lips -and see a man walk blindfolded to his death? -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -A few minutes before five o'clock, Major -Bishop was announced at Government House -and received by General Crandall in the library. -Before Jaimihr Khan, who had preceded the -visitor through the double doors from the hall, -could retire, his master stopped him. -</p> - -<p> -"One minute, Jaimihr! Have a seat, Bishop; -glad you've come a bit early. Come here, Jaimihr!" -</p> - -<p> -The tall reedlike figure of the Indian glided -to General Crandall's side. His thin ascetic -features were set in their usual mold of -unseeing detachment; only his dark eyes showed -animation. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, my General," he said, as he stopped -before the Englishman. -</p> - -<p> -"I have a little commission for you, Jaimihr," -General Crandall began, weighing his -words with care. "The utmost discretion—you -understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"The utmost. I understand." Jaimihr -Khan's lips moved ever so slightly, and his eyes -looked steadily ahead. -</p> - -<p> -"In the course of a few minutes, Captain -Woodhouse, of the signal service, will be here -to tea," the general began. The Indian -repeated mechanically: "Cap-tain Wood-house." -</p> - -<p> -"As soon as you have ushered him into this -room, you will go as quickly as you can to the -West Barracks. His room will be No. 36, on -the second gallery. You will enter his room -with a key I shall give you and search it -from end to end—everything in it. Anything -that is of a suspicious nature—you understand, -Jaimihr, what that might be—you will bring -here to me at once." -</p> - -<p> -"It shall be done, General Sahib." -</p> - -<p> -"No one, officer or man, must suspect your -errand. No one must see you enter or leave -that room." -</p> - -<p> -"No one," the Indian repeated. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall went to a wall safe set by -the side of the double doors, turned the -combination, and opened it. He took from a drawer -therein a bunch of keys, selected one, and -passed it to Jaimihr Khan. -</p> - -<p> -"The utmost care, remember!" he warned again. -</p> - -<p> -"Is it likely I should fail you this time, -General Sahib, when so many times I have succeeded?" -</p> - -<p> -"Make the search complete." General Crandall -ignored his servant's question. "But return -as quickly as you can. I shall keep Captain -Woodhouse here until you do so. You must -report to me before he leaves this house." -</p> - -<p> -"When the moment arrives, your servant -shall fly, General Sahib," the Indian replied, -and withdrew. -</p> - -<p> -"I say, General, you have a great deal of faith -in your Indian," Bishop ventured, accepting a -cigarette from his superior's case. "Rather a -delicate commission you've given him." -</p> - -<p> -"Absolute faith, yes. Been with me five -years—picked him up in Rangoon—have tried -him many times, and found him loyal as any -officer in the service." General Crandall put -in his words enough emphasis to carry slight -rebuke for the other's implied criticism. But -the pursy little major was too sure of the fine -terms of personal friendship between himself -and his superior to feel embarrassment. -</p> - -<p> -"About that girl, General—that cigar girl, -Josepha, concerning whom your beach-comber -friend sent that warning this morning from -the safe ground of Spain——" -</p> - -<p> -"Obvious thing would have been to clap her -in a cell," the governor answered. "But I have -not, for the very good reason that if there's -anything in this fellow's accusations against -her, as well as against Woodhouse, the game -will be to keep her watched and give our -captain an opportunity to communicate with her. -Minute he does that—why, we've got our proof -against both." -</p> - -<p> -"Then I take it you've put a trailer on the -girl?" -</p> - -<p> -"At eight o'clock to-night I'll know where -she's been every hour of the day," the general -returned confidently. "She can't leave the -town without being arrested. Now, as to our -plan for Woodhouse's reception—this affair of -Craigen's wife; we might as well agree on -points, so that——" He heard his wife's -voice in the room off the library, and broke off -abruptly. "Confound it; the women are -coming! Just step into my room with me, and -we'll go over this little matter, Major." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall held open a small door at -the left of his desk and followed Bishop -through. Lady Crandall and Jane entered the -library almost at the same time. -</p> - -<p> -"This tea of George's is preposterous," the -lady of Government House was grumbling. -"Said we must have this man from Egypt here -at once." -</p> - -<p> -"If you were English, no tea could be -preposterous," Jane countered, with a brave -attempt at lightness. She felt each passing -moment a weight adding to the suspense of the -inevitable event. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I'm going to get it through with just -as soon as I can," Lady Crandall snapped. -Then Jaimihr Khan threw open the double -doors and announced: "Cap-tain Wood-house, -my lady!" -</p> - -<p> -"Show him up!" she commanded; then in -complaint to Jane: "Now where do you -suppose that husband of mine went? Just like -him to suggest a tea and forget to make an -appearance." -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse appeared between the -opened doors in khaki and trim puttees. He -stood very straight for an instant, his eyes -shooting rapidly about the room. Lady -Crandall hurried forward to greet him, and his -momentary stiffness disappeared. The girl -behind her followed slowly, almost reluctantly. -Woodhouse grasped her extended hand. -</p> - -<p> -"It was good of you to send the flowers," she -murmured. The man smiled appreciation. -</p> - -<p> -"Do you know," he said, "after I sent them -I thought you'd consider me a bit—prompt." -</p> - -<p> -"I am learning something every day—about -Englishmen," Jane managed to answer, with a -ghost of a smile. -</p> - -<p> -"Always something good, I hope," Woodhouse -was quick to retort, his eyes eagerly trying -to fathom the cause of the girl's restraint. -</p> - -<p> -Lady Crandall, who had been vainly ringing -for Jaimihr Khan, excused herself on the -necessity of looking after the tea things. Jane -experienced a quick stab of dread at finding -herself alone with this man. Unexpected -opportunity was urging a decision which an hour -of solitude in her room had failed to bring. -Yet she trembled, appalled and afraid to speak, -before the very magnitude of the moment's -exigency. "A spy—a spy!" whispered austere -duty. "He will die!" her heart cried in protest. -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Gerson, it's good to see you again and -know by your handclasp you have forgiven me -for—for what was very necessary at the -moment—last night—our meeting in the -Splendide." Captain Woodhouse was standing before -her now, his grave eyes looking down into hers. -The girl caught a deep note of sincerity and -something else—something vibrantly personal. -Yet her tongue would not be loosed of its burden. -</p> - -<p> -"A very pretty speech," she answered, with -attempted raillery. "I shall think of it on the -boat going home." -</p> - -<p> -"I say, I wish you weren't always in that -horrid state of mind—on your way home -mentally," Captain Woodhouse challenged. -</p> - -<p> -"I shall be so in reality day after to-morrow, -I hope," she replied. "Away from all this -bewildering war and back in comfortable little -New York." The man seemed genuinely -grieved at her announcement. -</p> - -<p> -"New York must be worth while; but I -imagine you have nothing picturesque—nothing -old there. I'll wager you haven't a single -converted monastery like Government House in all -your city." -</p> - -<p> -"Not many things in New York have been -converted," she answered, with a smile. "Our -greatest need is for a municipal evangelist." -</p> - -<p> -False—all false, this banter! She knew it -to be, and so she believed he must read it. And -the man—his ease of manner was either that -of innocence or of supreme nerve, the second -not less to be admired than the first. Could it -be that behind his serious eyes, now frankly -telling her what she dared not let herself read -in them, lay duplicity and a spy's cunning? -</p> - -<p> -"I fancy you New Yorkers suffer most from -newness—newness right out of the shop," she -heard him saying. "But the old things are the -best. Imagine the monks of a long-ago -yesterday toasting themselves before this ancient -fireplace." He waved toward the massive -Gothic mantel bridging a cavernous fireplace. -An old chime bell, green with weathering, hung -on a low frame beside the firedogs. -</p> - -<p> -"You're mistaken; that's manufactured -antiquity," Jane caught him up. "Lady Crandall -told me last night that fireplace is just five -years old. One of the preceding governor's -hobbies, it was." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse caught at her answer with a -quick lifting of the brows. He turned again -to feast his eyes on the girl's piquant face, -even more alluring now because of the fleeting -color that left the cheeks with a tea rose's -coldness. -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Gerson, something I have done or -said"—the man was laboring after words—"you -are not yourself, and maybe I am respon——" -</p> - -<p> -She turned from him with a slight shudder. -Her hand was extended in mute appeal for -silence. He waited while his eyes followed the -heaving of her shoulders under the emotion that -was racking her. Suddenly she faced him -again, and words rushed from her lips in an -abandon of terror: -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Woodhouse, I know too much—about -you and why you are here. Oh, more -than I want to! Accident—bad luck, believe -me, it is not my seeking that I know you are -a—a——" -</p> - -<p> -He had started forward at her outburst, and -now he stood very close to her, his gray eyes -cold and unchanging. -</p> - -<p> -"Say it—say the word! I'm not afraid to -hear it," he commanded tensely. She drew back -from him a little wildly, her hands fluttering up -as if to fend him off. -</p> - -<p> -"You—you are in great danger this minute. -You were brought here this afternoon to be -trapped—exposed and made——" -</p> - -<p> -"I was fully aware of that when I came, Miss -Gerson," he interrupted. "The invitation, -coming so suddenly—so pressing—I think I read it -aright." -</p> - -<p> -"But the promise you made me give last -night!" Sudden resentment brushed aside for -the instant the girl's first flood of sympathy. -"That has involved me with you. Oh, that was -unfair—to make me promise I would not allude -to—to our first meeting!" -</p> - -<p> -"Involved you?" He closed one of her hands -in his as if to calm her and force more rational -speech. "Then you have been——" -</p> - -<p> -"Questioned by General Crandall—about -you," she broke in, struggling slightly to free -her hand. "Questioned—and even bullied and -threatened." -</p> - -<p> -"And you kept your promise?" The question -was put so low Jane could hardly catch it. She -slowly nodded. -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Gerson, you will never have cause to -regret that you did." Woodhouse pressed her -hand with almost fierce intenseness, then let it -go. Her face was flaming now under the stress -of excitement. She knew tears stood in her -eyes, and was angered at their being there; he -might mistake them. Woodhouse continued, in -the same suppressed tone: -</p> - -<p> -"You were on the point of using a word a -minute ago, Miss Gerson, which was hard for -you to voice because you thought it an ugly -word. You seemed sure it was the right word -to fit me. You only hesitated out of—ah—decency. -Yet you kept faith with me before General -Crandall. May I hope that means——" -</p> - -<p> -"You may hope nothing!" Quick rebellion at -what she divined to be coming flamed in Jane's -eyes. "You have no right to hope for more from -me than what you forced by promise. I would -not be saying what I have to you if—if I did not -feel I—that your life——" -</p> - -<p> -"You misunderstood," he broke in stiffly. "I -was on the point of saying I hoped you would -not always believe me a——" -</p> - -<p> -"Not believe!" Her hand went to the broad -ribbon belt she wore and brought out the silver -cigarette case. This she passed to him with a -swift gesture. -</p> - -<p> -"Almer, the Hotel Splendide man, gave me -this to-day at parade, urging that I deliver it to -you." She was speaking hurriedly. "By a -miracle—the strangest circumstance in the -world—I learned the message this cigarette case was -to carry to you. Oh, no, innocently enough on -my part—it came by a chance I must not take -the time to explain." -</p> - -<p> -"A message from—Almer to me?" Woodhouse -could not conceal the start her words -gave him. He took a step toward her eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, a message. You must have it to -protect yourself. The message was this: -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -"Informer has denounced you and Louisa -to——" -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Her voice died in her throat. Over Captain -Woodhouse's shoulder she saw a door open. -General Crandall and a short fat man in -officer's uniform entered the library. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap15"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XV -<br /> -THE THIRD DEGREE -</h3> - -<p> -"Good afternoon, Captain Woodhouse." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall came forward and -shook the captain's hand cordially. "Miss -Gerson, Major Bishop, of my staff." -</p> - -<p> -Jane acknowledged the introduction. Major -Bishop advanced to the meeting with Woodhouse -expectantly. With an air of ill-assumed -ease, the governor made them known to each -other. -</p> - -<p> -"Major Bishop, your new man in the signal -tower, Captain Woodhouse, from Wady Halfa. -Captain, do you happen to remember the major? -Was a captain when you were here on the -Rock—captain in the engineers." -</p> - -<p> -"I'm afraid we never met," Woodhouse began -easily. "I was here such a short time. -Expected to meet Major Bishop when I reported -at his office this morning, but he was over at -the wireless station, his aid told me." -</p> - -<p> -"Right, Captain!" Bishop chirped, shaking -his subordinate's hand. "I—ah—imagine this -is the first time we've met." He put the least -shade of emphasis on the verb. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse met his eyes boldly. Lady Crandall, -bustling in at this minute, directed a maid -where to wheel the tea wagon, while Jane went -to assist her with the pouring. The men soon -had their cups, and the general and major -contrived to group themselves with Woodhouse -sitting between them. Sir George, affecting a -gruff geniality, launched a question: -</p> - -<p> -"Rock look familiar to you, Captain?" -</p> - -<p> -"After a fashion, yes," Woodhouse answered -slowly. "Though three months is so short a -time for one to get a lasting impression." -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense!" the general reproved gustily. -"Some places you see once you never forget. -This old Rock is one of them; eh, Bishop?" -</p> - -<p> -"I don't know," the chunky little officer -replied. "The powers back home never give me a -chance to get away and forget." There was a -pause as the men sipped their tea. Woodhouse -broke the silence: -</p> - -<p> -"Man can be stationed in worse places than -Gibraltar." -</p> - -<p> -"If you mean Egypt, I agree with you," -Crandall assented. "There six years." -</p> - -<p> -"Were you, General? What station?" Woodhouse -was coolly stirring his tea, emphatically -at his ease. Jane, her back to the men as she -fussed over the tea wagon, filled her own cup -with hot water inadvertently. She tried to -laugh over the mistake, but her fingers -trembled as she poured the water back into the -kettle. -</p> - -<p> -"Not on the lazy old Nile, as you were—lucky -dog!" the general returned. "Out on the -yellow sands—at Arkowan—a place in the sun, -never fear!" -</p> - -<p> -The women had their cups now, and joined -the men, sitting a little behind. Jane caught -a shrewd sidewise glance from the general—a -glance that sought a quick and sure reading -of her emotions. She poised her cup as if -expecting a question and the glance turned aside. -But it had warned the girl that she was not -altogether a passive factor in the situation. She -set a guard over her features. -</p> - -<p> -"Let me see, Captain Woodhouse"—it was -little Bishop who took up the probe—"you must -have been here in the days when Craigen was -governor—saw your papers have it that you -were here three months in nineteen seven." -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, Craigen was governor then," Woodhouse -answered guardedly. -</p> - -<p> -"You never saw him, General." Bishop -turned to Sir George. "Big, bluff, blustering -chap, with a voice like the bull of Bashan. -Woodhouse, here, he'll recognize my portrait." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse smiled—secret disdain for the -clumsy trap was in that smile. -</p> - -<p> -"I'm afraid I do not," he said. "Craigen was -considered a small, almost a delicate, man." He -had recognized the bungling emphasis laid by -Bishop on the Craigen characteristics, and his -answer was pretty safely drawn by choosing the -opposites. Bishop looked flustered for an -instant, then admitted Woodhouse was right. He -had confused Sir David Craigen with his -predecessor, he said in excuse. -</p> - -<p> -"I fancy I ought to remember the man. I had -tea in this very room with him several times," -Woodhouse ventured. He let his eyes rove as -if in reminiscence. "Much the same here—as—except, -General Crandall, I don't recall that -fireplace." He indicated the heavy Gothic -ornament on the opposite side of the room. -</p> - -<p> -Jane caught her breath under the surge of -secret elation. The resource of the man so to -turn to advantage a fact that she had carelessly -given him in their conversation of a few -moments back! The girl saw a flicker of surprise -cross General Crandall's face. Lady -Crandall broke in: -</p> - -<p> -"You have a good memory, after all, Captain -Woodhouse. That fireplace is just five years -old." -</p> - -<p> -"Um—yes, yes," her husband admitted. -"Clever piece of work, though. Likely to -deceive anybody by its show of antiquity." -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall called for a second slice of -lemon in his cup. He was obviously sparring -for another opening, but was impressed by the -showing the suspected man was making. -Bishop pushed the inquisition another step: -</p> - -<p> -"Did you happen to be present, Captain, at -the farewell dinner we gave little Billy Barnes? -I think it must have been in the spring you -were here." -</p> - -<p> -"There were many dinners, Major Bishop." Woodhouse -was carefully selecting his words, -and he broke his sentences with a sip from his -cup. "Seven years is a long time, you know. -We had much else to think about in Egypt than -old dinners elsewhere." -</p> - -<p> -Bishop appeared struck by an inspiration. -He clapped his cup into its saucer with a -sudden bang. -</p> - -<p> -"Hang it, man, you must have been here in -the days of Lady Evelyn. Remember her, don't -you?" -</p> - -<p> -"Would I be likely to forget?" the captain -parried. Out of the tail of his eye he had a -flash of Jane Gerson's white face, of her eyes -seeking his with a palpitant, hunted look. The -message of her eyes brought to him an instant -of grace in sore trial. -</p> - -<p> -"Seven years of Egypt—or of a hotter -place—couldn't make a man forget her!" The major -was rattling on for the benefit of those who had -not come under the spell of the charmer. "Sir -David Craigen's wife, and as lovely a woman as -ever came out from England. Every man on -the Rock lost his heart that spring. Woodhouse, -even in three months' time you must -have fallen like the rest of us." -</p> - -<p> -"I'd rather not incriminate myself." Woodhouse -smiled sagely as he passed his cup to -Lady Crandall to be refilled. -</p> - -<p> -"Don't blame you," Bishop caught him up. -"A most outrageous flirt, and there was the -devil to pay. Broken hearts were as thick on -the Rock that year as strawberries in May, -including poor Craigen's. And after one young -subaltern tried to kill himself—you'll -remember that, Woodhouse—Sir David packed the -fair charmer off to England. Then he simply -ate his heart out and—died." -</p> - -<p> -"What an affecting picture!" Jane commented. -"One lone woman capturing the garrison -of Gibraltar!" -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall rose to set his cup on the -tea wagon. With the most casual air in the -world, he addressed himself to Woodhouse: -</p> - -<p> -"When Sir David died, many of his effects -were left in this house to await their proper -owner's disposition, and Lady Craigen has -been—er—delicate about claiming them. Among -them was the portrait of Lady Craigen herself -which still hangs in this room. Have you -recognized it, Captain?" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, whose mind had been leaping forward, -vainly trying to divine the object of the -Lady Evelyn lead, now knew, and the knowledge -left him beyond his resources. He -recognized the moment of his unmasking. But the -man's nerve was steady, even in extremity. He -rose and turned to face the rear wall of the -library, against the tapestry of which hung four -oil portraits in their deep old frames of heavy -gold. Three of these were of women. A fourth, -also the likeness of a woman, hung over the -fireplace. Chances were four to one against -blind choice. -</p> - -<p> -As Woodhouse slowly lifted his eyes to the -line of portraits, he noticed that Jane had moved -to place the broad tent shade of a floor lamp on -its tall standard of mahogany between herself -and the other two men so that her face was -momentarily screened from them. She looked -quickly at the portrait over the mantel and -away again. Woodhouse, knowing himself the -object of two pairs of hostile eyes, made his -survey deliberately, with purpose increasing the -tension of the moment. His eyes ranged the -line of portraits on the rear wall, then turned -to that one over the fireplace. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, yes, a rather good likeness, eh, Major?" He -drawled his identification with a -disinterested air. -</p> - -<p> -Crandall's manner underwent instant change. -His former slightly strained punctiliousness -gave way to naturalness and easy spirits. One -would have said he was advocate for a man on -trial, for whom the jury had just pronounced, -"Not proven." Scotch verdict, yes, but one -acceptable enough to the governor of Gibraltar. -The desk telephone sounded just then, and -General Crandall answered. After listening -briefly, he gave the orders, "Dress flags!" and -hung up the receiver. -</p> - -<p> -"'Fleet's just entering the harbor,' signal -tower reports," he explained to the others. -"Miss Gerson, if you care to step here to the -window you'll see something quite worth while." -</p> - -<p> -Jane, light-hearted almost to the point of -mild hysteria at the noticeable relaxation of -strain denoting danger passed, bounded to a -double French window giving on a balcony -and commanding a view of all the bay to the -Spanish shore. She exclaimed, in awe: -</p> - -<p> -"Ships—ships! Hundreds of them! Why, -General, what——" -</p> - -<p> -"The Mediterranean fleet, young woman, -bound home to protect the Channel against the -German high-seas fleet." Deep pride was in the -governor's voice. His eyes kindled as they fell -on the distant pillars of smoke—scores of them -mounting straight up to support the blue on -their blended arches. Captain Woodhouse could -scarcely conceal the start General Crandall's -announcement gave him. He followed the -others to the window more slowly. -</p> - -<p> -"Wirelessed they'd be in ten hours ago," the -governor explained to his wife. "Rear-admiral -won't make his official call until morning, -however. In these times he sticks by his flagship -after five o'clock." -</p> - -<p> -"Wonderful—wonderful!" Bishop turned in -unfeigned enthusiasm to Woodhouse, behind -him. "There is the power—and the pride—of -England. Sort of thrills a chap, eh?" -</p> - -<p> -"Rather!" Woodhouse replied. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, must get down to the quay to receive -any despatches that may come ashore," the -major exclaimed. "Gad, but it gives me a little -homesick tug at the heart to see these grim old -dogs of war. They represent that tight little -island that rules the waves." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, London—London—the big, old town -where they pull the strings that make us -dance!" General Crandall, leaning against the -window frame, his eyes on the incoming fleet, -voiced the chronic nostalgia of the man in the -service. -</p> - -<p> -"The town for me!" Woodhouse exclaimed -with fervor. "I'm sick for the sight of her—the -sounds of her—the smells of her: the orange -peel and the asphalt and the gas coming in over -Vauxhall Bridge." -</p> - -<p> -Bishop turned on him admiringly. -</p> - -<p> -"By George, that does hit it off, old man—no -mistake!" -</p> - -<p> -Jane was out on the balcony now with field -glasses she had picked up from the governor's -desk. She called back through the curtains, -summoning Woodhouse to come and pick out -for her the flagship. When he had joined her, -Bishop stepped quickly to his superior's side. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you think, General? By George, it -seems to me it would need an Englishman to -give one that sniff of London this chap just got -off." -</p> - -<p> -"Exactly," the general caught him up crisply. -"And an Englishman's done it—Rudyard Kipling. -Any German who can read English can -read Kipling." -</p> - -<p> -"But what do you think, General? Chap -strikes me as genuine—that portrait of Lady -Evelyn clenched things, I take it." -</p> - -<p> -"Confound it! We haven't absolutely proved -anything, pro or con," General Crandall -grumbled, in perplexity. "Thing'll have to be -decided by the Indian—what he finds, or doesn't -find—in Woodhouse's room. Let you know soon -as I hear." -</p> - -<p> -Bishop hurried to make his adieux to Lady -Crandall and her guest, and was starting for -the doors when Woodhouse, stepping in from -the balcony, offered to join him. The governor -stopped him. -</p> - -<p> -"By the way, Captain, if you'll wait for me a -minute I should like your company down the -Rock." -</p> - -<p> -Bishop had gone, and the general, taking -Woodhouse's agreement for granted, also left -the room. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, suddenly thrown back on his -guard, could find nothing to do but assent. But -when Lady Crandall excused herself on the -score of having to dress for dinner, he welcomed -compensation in being alone with the girl who -had gone with him steadfastly, unflinchingly, -through moments of trial. She stood before the -curtains screening the balcony, hesitant, -apparently meditating flight. To her Woodhouse -went, in his eyes an appeal for a moment alone -which would not be denied. -</p> - -<p> -"You were—very kind to me," he began, his -voice very low and broken. "If it had not -been—for your help, I would have——" -</p> - -<p> -"I could not see you—see you grope blindly—and -fail." She turned her head to look back -through the opened glass doors to the swiftly -moving dots in the distance that represented -the incoming battle fleet. -</p> - -<p> -"But was there no other reason except just -humanity to prompt you?" He had possessed -himself of one of her hands now, and his eyes -compelled her to turn her own to meet their -gaze. "Once when they—were trying to trip -me, I caught a look from your eyes, and—and -it was more than—than pity." -</p> - -<p> -"You are presuming too much," the girl -parried faintly; but Woodhouse would not be -rebuffed. -</p> - -<p> -"You must hear me," he rushed on impetuously. -"This is a strange time for me to say -this, but you say you are going—going away -soon. I may not have another opportunity—hear -me! I am terribly in earnest when I tell -you I love you—love you beyond all believing. -No, no! Not for what you have done for me, -but for what you are to me—beloved." -</p> - -<p> -She quickly pulled her hand free from his -grasp and tried to move to the door. He blocked -her way. -</p> - -<p> -"I can not have you go without a word from -you," he pleaded. "Just a word to tell me I -may——" -</p> - -<p> -"How can you expect—that—I—knowing -what I do——" She was stumbling blindly, -but persisted: "You, who have deceived others, -are deceiving them now—how can I know you -are not deceiving me, too?" -</p> - -<p> -"I can not explain." He dropped his head -hopelessly, and his voice seemed lifeless. "It -is a time of war. You must accept my word -that I am honest—with you." -</p> - -<p> -She slowly shook her head and started again -for the double doors. "Perhaps—when you -prove that to me——." He took an eager step -toward her. "But, no, you can not. I will be -sailing so soon, and—and you must forget." -</p> - -<p> -"You ask the impossible!" Woodhouse -quickly seized her hand and raised it to his lips. -As he did so, the double doors opened noiselessly -and Jaimihr Khan stood between them, -sphinx-like. -</p> - -<p> -Jane, startled, withdrew her hand, and without -a farewell glance, ran across the library and -through the door to Lady Crandall's room. -Jaimihr Khan, with a cold glance at Woodhouse, -moved silently to the door of General Crandall's -room and knocked. -</p> - -<p> -"It is I—Jaimihr Khan," he answered to the -muffled hail from within. "Yes, General Sahib, -I will wait." -</p> - -<p> -He turned and looked toward Woodhouse. -The latter had taken a cigarette from the case -Almer had sent him through Jane, and was -turning it over in his hand curiously. The -Indian, treading like a hunting cat, began lighting -candles. His tour of the room brought him to -the captain's side, and there he stood, motionless, -until Woodhouse, with a start, observed him. -</p> - -<p> -"Cap-tain Wood-house has been most in-discreet," -he said, in his curious mechanical way -of speech. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse turned on him angrily. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you mean?" he snapped. -</p> - -<p> -"Is it that they have ceased to teach -discretion—at the Wilhelmstrasse?" The Indian's -face was a mask. -</p> - -<p> -"I know nothing about the Wilhelmstrasse," -the white man answered, in a voice suddenly -strained. -</p> - -<p> -"Then it is veree, veree foolish for the captain -to leave in his room these plans." Jaimihr -Khan took from his girdle a thin roll of blue -prints—the plans of the signal tower and -Room D which Almer had given Woodhouse the -night before. He held them gingerly between -slender thumb and forefinger. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse recoiled. -</p> - -<p> -"The general sahib has sent me to search -the cap-tain's room," the even voice of Jaimihr -Khan ran on. "Behold the results of my journey!" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse sent a lightning glance at the -door leading to the governor's room, then -stepped lightly away from the Indian and -regarded him with hard calculating eyes. -</p> - -<p> -"What do you propose to do—with those plans?" -</p> - -<p> -"What should I do?" The white shoulders -of the Indian went up in a shrug. "They will -stand you before a wall, Cap-tain Wood-house. -And fire. It is the price of in-discretion at a -time like this." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse's right hand whipped back to his -holster, which hung from his sword belt, and -came forward again with a thick, short-barreled -weapon in it. -</p> - -<p> -"Give me those plans, you yellow hound!" -</p> - -<p> -"Shoot!" Jaimihr Khan smiled. "Add one -in-discretion to another. Shoot, my youthful -fool!" -</p> - -<p> -The door to General Crandall's room opened, -and the general, in uniform evening dress, -stepped into the library. Woodhouse swiftly -slipped his revolver behind his back, though -keeping it ready for instant use. -</p> - -<p> -"All ready, Captain. Smoke." The general -extended his cigarette case toward Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p> -The latter smilingly declined, his eyes all the -while on the Indian, who stood by the corner -of the general's desk. Between the sleek -brown hands a tiny blue roll of paper was -twisting into a narrower wisp under the -careless manipulation of thin fingers. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, Jaimihr," Crandall briskly addressed -the servant, "have you completed the errand I -sent you on?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, General Sahib." The brown fingers -still caressed the plans of the signal tower. -</p> - -<p> -"Have you anything to report?" The general -had his cigarette in his mouth and was -pawing his desk for a match. Jaimihr Khan -slowly lifted the tip of the paper wisp in his -fingers to the flame of a candle on the end of -the desk, then held the burning tip to his -master's cigarette. -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-264"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-264.jpg" alt="Jaimihr Khan held the tip to his master's cigarette." /> -<br /> -Jaimihr Khan held the tip to his master's cigarette. -</p> - -<p> -"Nothing, General Sahib." -</p> - -<p> -"Very good. Come, Woodhouse; sorry to -have kept you waiting." The general started -for the double doors. Woodhouse followed. -He passed very close to the Indian, but the -latter made no sign. His eyes were on the -burning wisp of paper between his fingers. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap16"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVI -<br /> -THE PENDULUM OF FATE -</h3> - -<p> -The next day, Thursday, was one of hectic -excitement for Gibraltar. Focus of the -concentrated attention of town and Rock was -the battle fleet, clogging all the inner harbor -with its great gray hulks. Superdreadnaughts, -like the standing walls of a submerged Atlantis, -lay close to the quays, barges lashed alongside -the folded booms of their torpedo nets. -Behind them, battle cruisers and scouts formed -a protecting cordon. Far out across the -entrance to the harbor, the darting black shapes -of destroyers on constant guard were shuttles -trailing their threads of smoke through the -blue web of sea and sky. Between fleet and -shore snorting cockleshells of launches -established lanes of communication; khaki of the -Rock's defenders and blue of the fleet's officers -met, passed, and repassed. In wardroom and -club lounge glasses were touched in pledges to -the united service. The high commander of -the Mediterranean fleet paid his official visit -to the governor of Gibraltar, and the governor, -in, turn, was received with honors upon the -quarterdeck of the flagship. But under the -superficial courtesies of fanfare and present -arms the stern business of coaling fleet -progressed at high tension. It was necessary that -all of the fighting machines have their bunkers -filled by noon of the following day. Every -minute that the Channel up under the murky North -Sea fogs lay without full strength of her fleet -protection was added danger for England. -</p> - -<p> -That morning, Captain Woodhouse went on -duty in the signal tower. Major Bishop, his -superior, had summoned him to his office -immediately after breakfast and assigned him to -his tasks there. Sufficient proof, Woodhouse -assured himself, with elation, that he had come -through the fire in General Crandall's library, -tested and found genuine. Through this pretext -and that, he had been kept off duty the day -before, denied access to the slender stone tower -high up on the Rock's crest which was the -motor center of Gibraltar's ganglia of defense. -</p> - -<p> -The small office in which Woodhouse was -installed was situated at the very top of the -tower—a room glassed on four sides like the -lantern room of a lighthouse, and provided with -telescope, a telephone switchboard, range -finders, and all the complicated machinery of -gunfire control. On one side were trestle boards -supporting charts of the ranges—figured areas -representing every square yard of water from -the nearer harbor below out to the farthest -reaching distance of the monster disappearing -guns. A second graphic sheet showed the -harbor and anchorages and the entrance to the -straits; this map was thickly spotted with little, -red, numbered dots—the mines. Sown like a -turnip field with these deadly capsules of -destruction were all the waters thereabouts; -their delicate tendrils led under water and -through conduits in the Rock up to this slender -spire called the signal tower. As he climbed -the winding stairway to his newly assigned -post, Woodhouse had seen painted on a small -wooden door just below the room he was to -occupy the single white letter "D." -</p> - -<p> -Room D—where the switches were, where a -single sweep of the hand could loose all the -hidden death out there in the crowded -harbor—it lay directly below his feet. -</p> - -<p> -Captain Woodhouse's duties were not arduous. -He had as single companion a sergeant of -the signal service, whose post was at the -window overlooking the harbor. The sergeant -read the semaphore message from the slender -signal arm on the flagship's bridge—directions -for the coal barges' movements, businesslike -orders to be transmitted to the quartermaster -in charge of the naval stores ashore, and such -humdrum of routine. These Woodhouse recorded -and forwarded to their various destinations -over the telephone. -</p> - -<p> -He had much time for thought—and much -to think about. -</p> - -<p> -Yesterday's scene in the library of Government -House—his grilling by the two suspicious -men, when a false answer on his part would -have been the first step toward a firing squad. -Yes, and what had followed between himself -and the little American—the girl who had -protected and aided him—ah, the pain of that trial -was hardly less poignant than had been the -terror of the one preceding it. She had asked him -to prove to her that he was not what she -thought him. Before another day was past she -would be out of his life and would depart, -believing—yes, convinced—that the task he had -set himself to do was a dishonorable one. She -could not know that the soldiers of the Hidden -Army have claim to heroism no less than they -who join battle under the sun. But he was -to see Jane Gerson once more; Woodhouse -caught at this circumstance as something -precious. To-night at Government House Lady -Crandall's dinner to the refugee Americans on -the eve of their departure would offer a last -opportunity. How could he turn it to the -desire of his heart? -</p> - -<p> -One more incident of a crowded yesterday -gave Woodhouse a crust for rumination—the -unmasking Jaimihr Khan, the Indian, had -elected for himself at that critical minute when -it lay in his power to betray the stranger in -the garrison. The captain reviewed the incident -with great satisfaction—how of a sudden -the wily Indian had changed from an enemy -holding a man's life in his hand to that "friend -in Government House," of whose existence the -cautious Almer had hinted but whose identity -he had kept concealed. Almer had said that -this "friend" could lay his hand on the -combination to Room D in the signal tower when the -proper moment arrived. Now that he knew -Jaimihr Khan in his true stripe, Woodhouse -made no doubt of his ability to fulfill Almer's -prophecy. -</p> - -<p> -And the proper moment would be this night! -To-night, on the eve of the great fleet's -sailing, what Woodhouse had come to Gibraltar -to do must be accomplished or not at all. -</p> - -<p> -The man's nerves were taut, and he rose to -step to the bayward window, there to look -down on the embattled splendor of England's -defense. Steel forts ranged all in rows, awaiting -but the opportunity to loose their lightnings -of obliteration against the ships of an enemy. -Cardboard ships! Shadows of dreams! In -Room D, just below his feet, a hand on the -switches—a downward push, and then—— -</p> - -<p><br /></p> - -<p> -Lady Crandall's dinner in Government House -was in full tide of hilarity. Under the heavy -groined ceiling the spread table with its napery -and silver was the one spot of light in the -long shadowed dining-room. Round it sat the -refugees—folk who had eaten black bread and -sausage and called that a meal; who had dodged -and twisted under the careless scourge of a -war beyond their understanding and sympathies, -ridden in springless carts, been bullied -and hectored by military martinets and -beggared by panicky banks. Now, with the first -glimpse of freedom already in sight and -under the warming influence of an American -hostess' real American meal, they were swept off -their feet by high spirits almost childlike. -Henry J. Sherman, Kewanee's vagrant son -returning from painful pilgrimage, sat at the -right of Lady Crandall; his pink face was -glowing with humor. To Consul Reynolds, who -swore he would have to pay for thus neglecting -his consulate for so much as two hours, -had fallen the honor of escorting Mrs. Sherman -to table. Willy Kimball, polished as to shirt -bosom and sleek hair, had eyes and ears for -none but the blithe Kitty. Next to General -Crandall sat Jane Gerson, radiant in a dinner -gown of tricky gauze overlaid on silk. At her -right was Captain Woodhouse, in proper -uniform dinner coat faced with red and gold. Of -the whole company, Woodhouse alone appeared -constrained. The girl by his side had been -cool in her greeting that evening; to his -conversational sallies she had answered with -indifference, and now at table she divided her -favors between General Crandall and the perky -little consul across the table. It seemed to -Woodhouse that she purposely added a lash of -cruelty to her joy at the approaching departure -on the morrow. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, you must all listen to this!" Kitty -Sherman commanded the attention of the table, -with a clapping of hands. "Go ahead, Will; -he had the funniest accident—tell them -about it." -</p> - -<p> -Young Kimball looked conscious and began -to stammer. -</p> - -<p> -"You're getting us all excited, Willy," Henry -J. boomed from the opposite side of the table. -"What happened?" -</p> - -<p> -"Why—ah—really quite ridiculous, you -know. Hardly a matter to—ah—talk about." Willy -fumbled the rose in the lapel of his -jacket and searched for words. "You see, this -morning I was thinking very hard about what -I would do when I got back to Kewanee—oh, -quite enthusiastic I am about the little town, -now—and I—well, I mean to say, I got into -my bath with my wrist watch on." -</p> - -<p> -Shouts of laughter added to the youth's -confusion. Sherman leaned far across the table -and advised him in a hoarse whisper: -</p> - -<p> -"Buy a dollar Ingersoll, Willy. It floats!" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, you might give him one of yours, -father," Kitty put in, in quick defense. -"Anybody who'd carry two watches around——" -</p> - -<p> -"Two watches?" Lady Crandall was interested. -</p> - -<p> -Henry J. beamed expansively, pulled away -his napkin, and proudly lifted from each -waistcoat pocket a ponderous watch, linked by the -thick chain passing through a buttonhole. -</p> - -<p> -"This one"—he raised the right-hand -time-piece—"tells the time of the place I happen to -be in—changed it so often I guess the works'll -never be the same again. But this one is my -pet. Here's Kewanee time—not touched since -we pulled out of the C., B. & Q. station on the -twentieth of last May." He turned the face -around for the others to read. "Just three in -the afternoon there now. Old Ed Porter's -got the <i>Daily Enterprise</i> out on the street, -and he's tilted back in his office chair, -readin' the <i>Chicago Tribune</i> that's just got in -on the two-five train. The boys at the bank are -goin' out to the country club for golf—young -Pete Andrews wearin' the knickerbockers his -wife cut down from his old overcoat; sort of a -horse-blanket pattern, you might say. The -town's just dozin' in the afternoon sun and—and -not givin' a hang whether Henry J. Sherman -and family gets back or not." -</p> - -<p> -"You're an old dear!" Lady Crandall bubbled. -"Some day Kewanee will erect a statue -to you." -</p> - -<p> -The talk turned to art, and the man from -Kewanee even had the stolid general wiping -the tears from his eyes by his description and -criticism of some of the masters his wife had -trotted him around to admire. -</p> - -<p> -"Willy, you'll be interested to know we got -a painter in Kewanee now," Henry J. cried. -"'Member young Frank Coales—old Henry -Coales' son? Well, he turned out to be an -artist. Too bad, too; his folks was fine -people. But Frank was awfully headstrong about -art. Painted a war picture about as big as -that wall there. Couldn't find a buyer right -away, so he turned it over to Tim Burns, who -keeps the saloon on Main Street. Been busy -ever since, sorta taking it out in trade, you -might say." -</p> - -<p> -Table talk was running at a gay rate when -Mrs. Sherman, who had sent frequent searching -glances at Captain Woodhouse over the -nodding buds of the flower piece in the center -of the board, suddenly broke out: -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, Captain Woodhouse, now I remember -where I've seen you before! I thought your -face was familiar the minute I set my eyes on -you this evening." -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan, who stood behind the general's -chair, arms folded and motionless, -swiftly lifted one hand to his lips, but -immediately mastered himself again. General -Crandall looked up with a sharp crinkle of interest -between his eyes. Captain Woodhouse, unperturbed, -turned to the Kewanee dowager. -</p> - -<p> -"You have seen me before, Mrs. Sherman?" -</p> - -<p> -"I am sure of it," the lady announced, with -decision. The other diners were listening now. -</p> - -<p> -"Indeed! And where?" Woodhouse was -smiling polite attention. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, at the Winter Garden, in Berlin—a -month ago!" Mrs. Sherman was hugely satisfied -with her identification. She appealed to -her husband for confirmation. "Remember, -father, that gentleman I mistook for Albert -Downs, back home, that night we saw -that—er—wicked performance?" -</p> - -<p> -"Can't say I do," Sherman answered tolerantly. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse, still smiling, addressed -Mrs. Sherman: -</p> - -<p> -"Frightfully sorry to disappoint you, -Mrs. Sherman, but I was not in Berlin a month ago. -I came here from Egypt, where I had been -several years." Woodhouse heard Jane at his -elbow catch her breath. -</p> - -<p> -"See, mother, there you go on your old hobby -of recognizin' folks," Sherman chided. Then, -to the others: "Why, she's seen all Kewanee -since she came here to Europe. Even got a -glimpse of the Methodist minister at Monte -Carlo." -</p> - -<p> -"I have never been in Berlin in my life, -Mrs. Sherman," Woodhouse was adding. "So, of -course——" -</p> - -<p> -"Well, I suppose I am wrong," the lady -admitted. "But still I could swear." -</p> - -<p> -The governor, who had kept a cold eye on -his subordinate during this colloquy, now -caught Woodhouse's glance. The captain -smiled frankly. -</p> - -<p> -"Another such unexpected identification, -General, and you'll have me in the cells as a -spy, I dare say," he remarked. -</p> - -<p> -"Quite likely," Crandall answered shortly, -and took up his fork again. A maid stepped -to Lady Crandall's chair at this juncture and -whispered something. The latter spoke to -Woodhouse: -</p> - -<p> -"You're wanted on the telephone in the -library, Captain. Very important, so the -importunate person at the other end of the wire -informs the maid." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse looked his confusion. -</p> - -<p> -"Probably that silly ass at the quay who lost -a bag of mine when I landed," he apologized, -as he rose. "If you'll pardon me——" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse passed up the stairs and into the -library. He was surprised to find Jaimihr -Khan standing by the telephone, his hand just -in the act of setting the receiver back on the -hook. The Indian stepped swiftly to the double -doors and shut them behind the captain. -</p> - -<p> -"A thousand pardons, Cap-tain"—he spoke -hurriedly—"the cap-tain will stand near the -telephone. They may come from the dining-room -at any minute." -</p> - -<p> -"What is all this?" Woodhouse began. "I -was called on the telephone." -</p> - -<p> -"A call I had inspired, Cap-tain. It was -necessary to see you—at once and alone." -</p> - -<p> -"Tactless! With the general suspecting -me—you heard what that woman from America -said at the table—she has eyes in her head!" -</p> - -<p> -"I think he still trusts you, Cap-tain," the -Indian replied. "And to-night we must act. -The fleet sails at noon to-morrow." -</p> - -<p> -"We?" Woodhouse was on his guard at once. -"What do you mean by 'we'?" -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan smiled at the evasion. -</p> - -<p> -"Yesterday in this room, Cap-tain, I burned -a roll of plans——" -</p> - -<p> -"Which I had good reason to wish saved," -Woodhouse caught him up. -</p> - -<p> -"No matter; I burned them—at a moment -when you were—in great peril, Cap-tain." -</p> - -<p> -"Burned them, yes—perhaps to trap me further." -</p> - -<p> -The Indian made a gesture of impatience. -"Oh, excellent discretion!" he cried in -suppressed exasperation. "But we waste time that -is precious. To-night——" -</p> - -<p> -"Before another word is spoken, let me have -your card—your Wilhelmstrasse number," -Woodhouse demanded. -</p> - -<p> -"I carry no card. I am more discreet -than—some," the other answered insinuatingly. -</p> - -<p> -"No card? Your number, then?" -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr Khan brought his lips close to the -white man's ear and whispered a number. -</p> - -<p> -"Is that not correct?" he asked. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse nodded curtly. -</p> - -<p> -"And now that we are properly introduced," -Jaimihr began, with a sardonic smile, "may I -venture a criticism? Your pardon, Cap-tain; -but our critics, they help us to per-fection. -Since when have men who come from the -Wilhelmstrasse allowed themselves to make -love in drawing-rooms?" -</p> - -<p> -"You mean——" -</p> - -<p> -"You and the young woman from America—when -I found you together here yesterday——" -</p> - -<p> -"That is my affair," was Woodhouse's hot -response. -</p> - -<p> -"The affair on which we work—this night—that -is my affair, be veree sure!" There was -something of menace in the Indian's tone. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse bowed to his demand for an -explanation. "That young woman, as it happens, -must be kept on our side. She saw me in -France, when Captain Woodhouse was -supposed to be in Egypt." -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, so?" Jaimihr inclined his head with a -slight gesture craving pardon. "For that -reason you make a conquest. I did not -un-derstand." -</p> - -<p> -"No matter. The fleet sails at noon." -</p> - -<p> -"And our moment is here—to-night," Jaimihr -whispered in exultation. "Not until -to-day did they admit you to the tower, Cap-tain. -How is it there?" -</p> - -<p> -"A simple matter—with the combination to -the door of Room D." -</p> - -<p> -With a single stride the Indian was over -before the door of the wall safe. He pointed. -</p> - -<p> -"The combination of the inner door—it is -in a special compartment of that safe, protected -by many wires. Before dawn I cut the -wires—and come to you with the combination." -</p> - -<p> -"At whatever hour is best for you," Woodhouse -put in eagerly. -</p> - -<p> -"Let us say three-thirty," Jaimihr answered. -"You will be waiting for me at the Hotel -Splendide with—our friends there. I shall come to -you there, give you the combination, and you -shall go through the lines to the signal tower." -</p> - -<p> -"There must be no slip," Woodhouse sternly -warned. -</p> - -<p> -"Not on my part, Cap-tain—count on that. -For five years I have been waiting—waiting. -Five years a servant—yes, my General; no, my -General; very good, my General." The man's -voice vibrated with hate. "To-morrow, near -dawn—the English fleet shattered and ablaze -in the harbor—the water red, like blood, with -the flames. Then, by the breath of Allah, my -service ends!" -</p> - -<p> -Voices sounded in the hallway outside the -double doors. Jaimihr Khan, a finger to his -lips, nodded as he whispered: "Three-thirty, -at the Splendide." He faded like a white -wraith through the door to General Crandall's -room as the double doors opened and the -masculine faction of the dinner party entered. -Woodhouse rose from a stooping position at the -telephone and faced them. To the general, whose -sharp scrutiny stabbed like thin knives, he -made plausible explanation. The beggar who -lost his bag wanted a complete identification -of it—had run it down at Algeciras. -</p> - -<p> -"I understand," Crandall grunted. -</p> - -<p> -When the cigars were lit, General Crandall -excused himself for a minute, sat at his desk, -and hurriedly scratched a note. Summoning -Jaimihr, he ordered that the note be despatched -by orderly direct to Major Bishop and given to -no other hands. Woodhouse, who overheard his -superior officer's command, was filled with -vague apprehension. What Mrs. Sherman had -said at table—this hurried note to Bishop; -there was but one interpretation to give to the -affair—Crandall's suspicions were all alive -again. Yet at three-thirty—at the Hotel -Splendide—— -</p> - -<p> -But when Crandall came back to join the -circle of smokers, he was all geniality. The -women came in by way of Jane Gerson's room; -they had been taking a farewell peek at her -dazzling stock of gowns, they said, before they -were packed for the steamer. -</p> - -<p> -"There was one or two I just had to see -again," Mrs. Sherman explained for the benefit -of all, "before I said good-by to them. One of -them, by Madam Paquin, father, I'm going to -copy when we get home. I'll be the first to -introduce a Paquin into little Kewanee." -</p> - -<p> -"Well, don't get into trouble with the minister, -mother," Henry J. warned. "Some of the -French gowns I've seen on this trip certainly -would stir things up in Kewanee." -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr served the coffee. Woodhouse tried -to maneuver Jane into a tête-à-tête in an angle -of the massive fireplace, but she outgeneraled -him, and the observant Mrs. Sherman cornered -him inexorably. -</p> - -<p> -"Tell me, Captain Woodhouse," she began, in -her friendly tones, "you said a while ago the -general might mistake you for a spy. Don't -you have a great deal of trouble with spies in -your army in war time? Everybody took us -for spies in Germany, and in France they -thought poor Henry was carrying bombs to -blow up the Eiffel Tower." -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps I can answer that question better -than Captain Woodhouse," the general put in, -rising and striding over to where Mrs. Sherman -kept the captain prisoner. "Captain -Woodhouse, you see, would not be so likely to -come in touch with those troublesome persons -as one in command of a post, like myself." The -most delicate irony barbed this speech, lost to -all but the one for whom it was meant. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I know I'm going to hear something -very exciting," Mrs. Sherman chortled. "Kitty, -you'd better hush up Willy Kimball for a while -and come over here. You can improve your -mind better listening to the general." -</p> - -<p> -Crandall soon was the center of a group. He -began, with sober directness. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, in the matter of spies in war time, -Mrs. Sherman, one is struck by the fact of -their resemblance to the plague—you never can -tell when they're going to get you or whence -they came. Now here on the Rock I have reason -to believe we have one or more spies busy -this minute." -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson, sitting where the light smote -her face, drew back into the shadow with a -swift movement of protectiveness. Woodhouse, -who balanced a dainty Satsuma coffee cup on -his knee, kept his eyes on his superior's face -with a mildly interested air. -</p> - -<p> -"In fact," Crandall continued evenly, "I -shouldn't be surprised if one—possibly two -spies—should be arrested before the night is -over. And the point about this that will -interest you ladies is that one of these—the one -whose order for arrest I have already given—is -a woman—a very clever and pretty woman, -I may add, to make the story more interesting." -</p> - -<p> -"And the other, whose arrest may follow, is -an accomplice of hers, I take it, General!" Woodhouse -put the question with easy indifference. -He was stirring his coffee abstractedly. -</p> - -<p> -"Not only the accomplice, but the brains for -both, Captain. A deucedly clever person, I'm -frank to admit." -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, people! Come and see the flagship, -signaling to the rest of the fleet with its funny -green and red lights!" It was Jane who had -suddenly risen and stood by the curtains screening -the balcony windows. "They look like little -flowers opening and shutting." -</p> - -<p> -The girl's diversion was sufficient to take -interest momentarily from General Crandall's -revelation. When all had clustered around the -windows, conversation skipped to the fleet, its -power, and the men who were ready to do battle -behind its hundreds of guns. Mrs. Sherman -was disappointed that the ships did not send -up rockets. She'd read somewhere that ships -sent up rockets, and she didn't see why these -should prove the exception. Interruption came -from Jaimihr Khan, who bore a message for -Consul Reynolds. The fussy little man ripped -open the envelope with an air of importance. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah, listen, folks! Here we have the latest -wireless from the <i>Saxonia</i>. 'Will anchor about -two—sail six. Have all passengers aboard by -five-thirty.'" Excited gurgles from the -refugees. "That means," Reynolds wound up, with -a flourish, "everybody at the docks by five -o'clock. Be there myself, to see you off. Must -go now—lot of fuss and feathers getting -everybody fixed." He paused before Jane. -</p> - -<p> -"You're going home at last, young lady," he -chirped. -</p> - -<p> -"That depends entirely on Miss Gerson -herself." It was the general who spoke quietly but -emphatically. -</p> - -<p> -Reynolds looked at him, surprised. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, I understood it was all arranged——" -</p> - -<p> -"I repeat, it depends entirely on Miss Gerson." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse caught the look of fear in Jane's -eyes, and, as they fell for the instant on his, -something else—appeal. He turned his head -quickly. Lady Crandall saved the situation. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, that's just some more of George's eternal -red tape. I'll snip it when the time comes." -</p> - -<p> -The consul's departure was the signal for the -others. They crowded around Lady Crandall -and her husband with voluble praise for the -American dinner and thanks for the courtesy -they had found on the Rock. Woodhouse, after -a last despairing effort to have a word of -farewell with Jane, which she denied, turned to -make his adieu to his host and hostess. -</p> - -<p> -"No hurry, Captain," Crandall caught him -up. "Expect Major Bishop in every minute—small -matter of official detail. You and he can -go down the Rock together when he leaves." -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse's mind leaped to the meaning behind -his superior's careless words. The hastily -despatched note—that was to summon Bishop -to Government House; Crandall's speech about -the two spies and the arrest of one of -them—Louisa, he meant—and now this summary order -that he wait the arrival of Bishop—would the -second arrest be here in this room? The man -who carried a number from the Wilhelmstrasse -felt the walls of the library slowly closing in -to crush him; he could almost hear the whisper -and mutter of the inexorable machine moving -them closer—closer. Be alone with the man -whose word could send bullets into his heart! -</p> - -<p> -"A very pleasant dinner—Lady Crandall's," -Woodhouse began, eager to lighten the -tenseness of the situation. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, it seemed so." Crandall offered the -younger man his cigarette case, and, lighting a -smoke himself, straddled the hearth, his eyes -keenly observant of Woodhouse's face. -</p> - -<p> -"Rather odd, Americans. But jolly nice." The -captain laughed in reminiscence of the -unspoiled Shermans. -</p> - -<p> -"I thought so—I married one," Crandall retorted. -</p> - -<p> -The ear of Woodhouse's mind could hear more -plainly now the grinding of the cogs; the -immutable power of fate lay there. -</p> - -<p> -"Oh—er—so you did. Very kind she has -been to me. I got very little of this sort of -thing at Wady Halfa." -</p> - -<p> -"By the way, Woodhouse"—Crandall blew a -contemplative puff toward the ceiling—"strange -Mrs. Sherman should have thought she saw you -at Berlin." -</p> - -<p> -"Odd mistake, to be sure," Woodhouse admitted, -struggling to put ease into his voice. -"The lady seems to have a penchant, as her -husband says, for finding familiar faces." -</p> - -<p> -"Major Bishop!" Jaimihr Khan announced at -the double doors. The major in person followed -immediately. His greeting to Woodhouse was -constrained. -</p> - -<p> -"Woodhouse will wait for you to go down the -Rock with him," Crandall explained to the -newcomer. "Captain, excuse us for a minute, while -we go into my room and run over a little matter -of fleet supplies. Must check up with the fleet -before it sails in the morning." Woodhouse -bowed his acquiescence and saw the door to the -general's room close behind the twain. -</p> - -<p> -He was not long alone. Noiselessly the -double doors opened and Jaimihr Khan entered. -Woodhouse sprang to meet him where he stood -poised for flight just inside the doors. -</p> - -<p> -"The woman's prattle of Berlin——" the -Indian whispered. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, the general's suspicions are all aroused -again." -</p> - -<p> -"Listen! I saw the note he sent to Bishop. -The major is to be set to watch you to-night—all -night. A false step and you will be under -arrest." Jaimihr's thin face was twisted in -wrath. "One man's life will not stand in our -way now." -</p> - -<p> -"No," Woodhouse affirmed. -</p> - -<p> -"Success is veree near. When Bishop goes -with you down the Rock——" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, yes! What?" -</p> - -<p> -"The pistol screams, but the knife is dumb. -Quick, Cap-tain!" With a swift movement of -his hand the Indian passed a thin-bladed dirk to -the white man. The latter secreted the -sheathed weapon in a pocket of his dinner -jacket. He nodded understanding. -</p> - -<p> -"One man's life—nothing!" Jaimihr breathed. -</p> - -<p> -"It shall be done," Woodhouse whispered. -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr faded through the double doors like -a spirit in a medium's cabinet. He had seen -what the captain was slower to notice. The -door from Jane Gerson's room was opening. The -girl stepped swiftly into the room, and was by -Woodhouse's side almost before he had seen -her. -</p> - -<p> -"I could not—go away—without—without——" -</p> - -<p> -"Miss Gerson—Jane!" He was beside her -instantly. His hand sought and found one of hers -and held it a willing prisoner. She was trembling, -and her eyes were deep pools, riffled by -conflicting currents. Her words came breathlessly: -</p> - -<p> -"I was not myself—I tried to tell myself you -were deceiving me just—just as a part of this -terrible mystery you are involved in. But when -I heard General Crandall tell you to wait—that -and what he said about the spies—I knew you -were again in peril, and—and——" -</p> - -<p> -"And you have come to me to tell me as -good-by you believe I am honest and that you -care—a little?" Woodhouse's voice trembled with -yearning. "When you think me in danger, then -you forget doubts and maybe—your heart——" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, I want to believe—I want to!" she whispered -passionately. "Every one here is against -you. Tell me you are on the level—with me, at -least." -</p> - -<p> -"I am—with you." -</p> - -<p> -"I—believe," she sighed, and her head fell -near his shoulder—so near that with alacrity -Captain Woodhouse settled it there. -</p> - -<p> -"When this war is over, if I am alive," he -was saying rapturously, "may I come to -America for you? Will you—wait?" -</p> - -<p> -"Perhaps." -</p> - -<p> -The door to General Crandall's room opened. -They sprang apart just as Crandall and Bishop -entered the library. The former was not blind -to the situation; he darted a swift glance into -the girl's face and read much there. -</p> - -<p> -"Ready, Captain?" Bishop chirped, affecting -not to notice the momentary confusion of the -man and the girl. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse gave Jane's hand a lingering -clasp; mutely his eyes adjured her to remember -her plighted troth. In another minute he was -gone. -</p> - -<p> -The general and his guest were alone. Jane -Gerson was bidding him good night when he -interrupted, somewhat gruffly: -</p> - -<p> -"Well, young woman, have you made up your -mind? Do you sail in the morning—or not?" -</p> - -<p> -"I made up my mind to that long ago," she -answered briskly. "Of course I sail." -</p> - -<p> -"Then you're going to tell me what I want -to know. Sensible girl!" He rubbed his hands -in satisfaction. -</p> - -<p> -"What is it you want to know, General -Crandall?" This almost carelessly from her. -</p> - -<p> -"When did you meet Woodhouse before—and -where?" -</p> - -<p> -"How do you know I met him before?" She -attempted to parry, but Crandall cut her short -with a gesture of impatience: -</p> - -<p> -"Please don't try that tack again. Answer -those two questions, and you sail in the morning." -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson's eyes grew hard, and she lifted -her chin in defiance. -</p> - -<p> -"And if I refuse——" -</p> - -<p> -"Why should you?" Crandall affected -surprise not altogether unfelt. -</p> - -<p> -"No matter—I do!" The challenge came -crisp and sharp-cut as a new blade. Gibraltar's -governor lost his temper instanter; his face -purpled. -</p> - -<p> -"And I know why!" he rasped. "He's got -round you—made love to you—tricked you! I'd -swear he was kissing you just the minute I -came in here. The German cad! Good lord, -girl; can't you see how he's using you?" -</p> - -<p> -"I'm afraid I can't." -</p> - -<p> -Crandall advanced toward her, shaking a -menacing finger at her. -</p> - -<p> -"Let me tell you something, young woman: -he's at the end of his rope. Done for! No use -for you to stand up for him longer. He's under -guard to-night, and a woman named Josepha, -his accomplice—or maybe his dupe—is already -under arrest, and to-morrow, when we examine -her, she'll reveal his whole rotten schemes or -have to stand against a wall with him. Come, -now! Throw him over. Don't risk your job, -as you call it, for a German spy who's tricked -you—made a fool of you. Why——" -</p> - -<p> -"General Crandall!" Her face was white, and -her eyes glowed with anger. -</p> - -<p> -"I—I beg your pardon, Miss Gerson," he -mumbled. "I am exasperated. A fine girl like -you—to throw away all your hopes and ambitions -for a spy—and a bounder! Can't you see -you're wrong?" -</p> - -<p> -"General Crandall, some time—I hope it will -be soon—you will apologize to me—and to -Captain Woodhouse—for what you are saying -to-night." Her hands clenched into fists, whereon -the knuckles showed white; the poise of her -head, held a little forward, was all combative. -</p> - -<p> -"Then you won't tell me what I want to -know?" He could not but read the defiance in -the girl's pose. -</p> - -<p> -"I will tell you nothing but good-by." -</p> - -<p> -"No, by gad—you won't! I can be stubborn, -too. You shan't sail on the <i>Saxonia</i> in the -morning. Understand?" -</p> - -<p> -"Oh, shan't I? Who will dare stop me?" -</p> - -<p> -"I will, Miss Gerson. I have plenty of -right—and the power, too." -</p> - -<p> -"I'll ask you to tell that to my consul—on the -dock at five to-morrow morning. Until then, -General Crandall, au revoir." -</p> - -<p> -The door of the guest room shut with a spiteful -slam upon the master of Gibraltar, leaving -him to nurse a grievance on the knees of wrath. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap17"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVII -<br /> -THREE-THIRTY A.M. -</h3> - -<p> -Joseph Almer and Captain Woodhouse -sat in the darkened and heavily blinded -office-reception room of the Hotel Splendide. -All the hotel had long since been put to bed, -and the silence in the rambling house was -audible. The hands of the Dutch clock on the wall -were pointing to the hour of three-thirty. -</p> - -<p> -Strain was on both the men. They spoke in -monosyllables, and only occasionally. Almer's -hand went out from time to time to lift a squat -bottle of brandy from the table between them -and pour a tiny glass brimful; he quaffed with -a sucking noise. Woodhouse did not drink. -</p> - -<p> -"It is three-thirty," the latter fretted, with -an eye on the mottled clock dial. -</p> - -<p> -"He will come," Almer assured. A long pause. -</p> - -<p> -"This man Jaimihr—he is thoroughly -dependable?" The man in uniform put the -question with petulant bruskness. -</p> - -<p> -"It is his passion—what we are to do -to-night—something he has lived for—his -religion. Nothing except judgment day -could—— Hah!" -</p> - -<p> -The sharp chirp of a telephone bell, a -dagger of sound in the silence, broke Almer's -speech. He bounded to his feet; but not so -quickly as Woodhouse, who was across the -room in a single stride and had the receiver -to his ear. -</p> - -<p> -"Well, well! Yes, this is the one you -name." Woodhouse turned to Almer, and his lips -framed the word Jaimihr. "Yes, yes; all is -well—and waiting. Bishop? He is beyond -interference—coming down the Rock—I did the -work silently. What's that?" Woodhouse's -face was tensed in strain; his right hand went -to a breast pocket and brought out a pencil. -With it he began making memoranda on the -face of a calendar by his side. -</p> - -<p> -"Seven turns—ah, yes—four to the -left—correct." His writing hand was moving -swiftly. "Press, one to the right. Good! I have -it, and am off at once. Good-by!" -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse finished a line of script on the -calendar face, hung up the receiver. He -carefully tore the written notes from the calendar -and put them into his pocket. -</p> - -<p> -"Jaimihr says he has work to do at Government -House and can not come down." Woodhouse -turned to Almer and explained in rapid -sentences. "But he's given me the combination—to -Room D—over the wire, and now I'm off!" -</p> - -<p> -Almer was all excitement now. He hovered -lovingly about Woodhouse, patting him on the -shoulder, giving him his helmet, mothering -him with little cooing noises. -</p> - -<p> -"Speed quickly, Nineteen Thirty-two! Up -the Rock to the signal tower, Nineteen -Thirty-two, to do the deed that will boom around -the world. The switches—one pull, my brother, -and the fatherland is saved to triumph over -her enemies, victorious!" -</p> - -<p> -"Right, Almer!" Woodhouse was moving -toward the door. "In eight minutes history -will be made. The minute you hear the blast, -start for Spain. I will try to escape, but I -doubt——" -</p> - -<p> -A knock came at the barred front door—one -knock, followed by three. Both men were -transfixed. Almer, first to recover his -calmness, motioned Woodhouse through the door to -the dining-room. When his companion had -disappeared, he stepped to the door and -cautiously asked: "Who knocks?" -</p> - -<p> -An answer came that caused him to shoot -back the bolts and thrust out his head. A -message was hurriedly whispered into his ear. The -Splendide's proprietor withdrew his head and -slipped the bolt home again. His face was a -thundercloud as he summoned Woodhouse; his -breath came in wheezy gasps. -</p> - -<p> -"My Arab boy comes to the door just now -to tell me of Louisa's fate; she has been -arrested," he said. -</p> - -<p> -"Come, Almer! I am going to the signal -tower—there is still time for us to strike." -</p> - -<p> -Out on to Waterport Street leaped Woodhouse, -and the door closed behind him. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap18"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XVIII -<br /> -THE TRAP IS SPRUNG -</h3> - -<p> -Jane Gerson, tossing on her pillows, -heard the mellow bell of a clock somewhere -in the dark and silent house strike -three. This was the fifth time she had counted -the measured strokes of that bell as she lay, -wide-eyed, in the guest chamber's canopied bed. -An eternity had passed since the dinner guests' -departure. Her mind was racing like some -engine gone wild, and sleep was impossible. -Over and over again she had conned the events -of the evening, always to come at the end -against the impasse of General Crandall's blunt -denial: "You shan't sail in the morning." In -her extremity she had even considered flight -by stealth—the scaling of walls perhaps, and a -groping through dark streets to the wharf, -there to smuggle herself somehow on a tender -and so gain the <i>Saxonia</i>. But her precious -gowns! They still reposed in their bulky -hampers here in Government House; to escape -and leave them behind would be worse than -futile. The governor's fiat seemed absolute. -</p> - -<p> -Urged by the impulse of sheer necessity to -be doing something—the bed had become a rack—the -girl rose, lit a taper, and began to dress -herself, moving noiselessly. She even packed -her traveling bag to the last inch and locked -it. Then she sat on the edge of the bed, hands -helplessly folded in her lap. What to do next? -Was she any better off dressed than thrashing -in the bed? Her yearning called up a picture -of the <i>Saxonia</i>, which must ere this be at her -anchorage, since the consul said she was due -at two. In three short hours tenders would -puff alongside; a happy procession of refugees -climb the gangway—among them the Shermans -and Willy Kimball, bound for their Kewanee; -the captain on the bridge would give -an order; winches would puff, the anchor -heave from the mud, the big boat's prow slowly -turn westward—oceanward—toward New -York! And she, a prisoner caught by the -mischance of war's great mystery, would have to -watch that diminishing column of smoke fade -against the morning's blue—disappear. -</p> - -<p> -Inspiration seized her. It would be something -just to see the <i>Saxonia</i>, now lying amid -the grim monsters of the war fleet. From the -balcony of the library, just outside the door -of her room, she could search the darkness of -the harbor for the prickly rows of lights -marking the merchant ship from her darker -neighbors. The general's marine glasses lay on his -desk, she remembered. To steal out to the -balcony, sweep the harbor with the glasses, and -at last hit on the ship of deliverance—for all -but her; to do this would be better than -counting the hours alone. She softly opened the -door of her room. Beyond lay the dim distances -of the library, suddenly become vast as -an amphitheater; in the thin light filtering -through the curtains screening the balcony -appeared the lumpy masses of furniture and -vague outlines of walls and doors. She closed -the door behind her, and stood trembling; this -was somehow like burglary, she felt—at least -it had the thrill of burglary. -</p> - -<p> -The girl tiptoed around a high-backed chair, -groped her way to the general's desk, and -fumbled there. Her hand fell upon the double -tubes of the binoculars. She picked them up, -parted the curtains, and stepped through the -opened glass doors to the balcony. Not a sound -anywhere but the faint cluck and cackle of -cargo hoists down in the harbor. Jane put the -glasses to her eyes, and began to sweep the -light-pointed vista below the cliff. Scores of -pin-prick beams of radiance marked the fleet -where it choked the roadstead—red and white -beetles' eyes in the dark. She swung the glasses -nearer shore. Ah, there lay the <i>Saxonia</i>, with -her three rows of glowing portholes near the -water; the binoculars even picked out the -double column of smoke from her stacks. -Three brief hours and that mass of shadow -would be moving—moving—— -</p> - -<p> -A noise, very slight, came from the library -behind the opened doors. The marine glasses -remained poised in the girl's hands while she -listened. Again the noise—a faint metallic click. -</p> - -<p> -She hardly breathed. Turning ever so slowly, -she put one hand between the curtains and -parted them so that she could look through into -the cavernous gloom behind her. -</p> - -<p> -A light moved there—a clear round eye of -light. Behind it was the faintest suggestion of -a figure at the double doors—just a blur of -white, it was; but it moved stealthily, swiftly. -She heard a key turn in a lock. Then swiftly -the eye of light traveled across the library to -the door leading to General Crandall's room. -There it paused to cut the handle of the door -and keyhole beneath out of darkness. A brown -hand slipped into the clear shaft of whiteness, -put a key into the keyhole, and softly turned it. -The same was done for the locks of Lady Crandall's -door, on the opposite side of the library, -and for the one Jane had just closed behind -her—her own door. Than the circle of light, -seeming to have an intelligence all its own, -approached the desk, flew swiftly to a drawer -and there paused. Once more the brown hand -plunged into the bore of light; the drawer was -carefully opened, and a steel-blue revolver -reflected bright sparks from its barrel as it was -withdrawn. -</p> - -<p> -Jane, hardly daring to breathe, and with the -heavy curtains gathered close so that only a -space for her eyes was left open, watched the -orb of light, fascinated. It groped under the -desk, found a nest of slender wires. There was -a "Snick—snick!" and the severed ends of the -wires dropped to the floor. The burnished dial -of the wall safe, set near the double doors, was -the next object to come under the restless -searching eye. While light poured steadily -upon the circular bit of steel, delicate fingers -played with it, twisting and turning this way -and that. Then they were laid upon the handle -of the safe door, and it swung noiselessly back. -A tapering brown hand, white-sleeved, fumbled -in a small drawer, withdrew a packet of papers -and selected one. -</p> - -<p> -Jane stepped boldly into the room. -</p> - -<p> -"Sahibah!" The white club of the electric -flash smote her full in the face. -</p> - -<p> -"What are you doing at that safe, Jaimihr -Khan?" Jane spoke as steadily as she could, -though excitement had its fingers at her throat, -and all her nerves were twittering. She heard -some sharply whistled foreign word, which -might have been a curse. -</p> - -<p> -"Something that concerns you not at all, -Sahibah," the Indian answered, his voice -smooth as oil. He kept the light fair on her -face. -</p> - -<p> -"I intend that it shall concern me," the girl -answered, taking a step forward. -</p> - -<p> -"Veree, veree foolish, Sahibah!" Jaimihr -whispered, and with catlike stride he advanced -to meet her. "Veree foolish to come here at -this time." -</p> - -<p> -Jane, frozen with horror at the man's approach, -dodged and ran swiftly to the fireplace, -where hung the ancient vesper bell. The flash -light followed her every move—picked out her -hand as it swooped down to seize a heavy poker -standing in its rack beside the bell. -</p> - -<p> -"Sahibah! Do not strike that bell!" The -warning came sharp and cold as frost. Her -hand was poised over the bell, the heavy stub -of the poker a very few inches away from the -bell's flare. -</p> - -<p> -"To strike that bell might involve in great -trouble one who is veree dear to you, Sahibah. -Let us talk this over most calmly. Surely you -would not desire that a friend—a veree dear -friend——" -</p> - -<p> -"Who do you mean?" she asked sharply. -</p> - -<p> -"Ah—that I leave to you to guess!" Jaimihr -Khan's voice was silken. "But certainly you -know, Sahibah. A friend the most important——" -</p> - -<p> -Then she suddenly understood. The Indian -was referring to Captain Woodhouse thus -glibly. Anger blazed in her. -</p> - -<p> -"It isn't true!" -</p> - -<p> -"Sahibah, I am sorry to con-tradict." Jaimihr -Khan had begun slowly to creep toward -her, his body crouching slightly as a stalking -cat's. -</p> - -<p> -"I'll prove it isn't true!" she cried, and -brought the poker down on the bell with a -sharp blow. Like a tocsin came its answering -alarm. -</p> - -<p> -"A thousand devils!" The Indian leaped for -the girl, but she evaded him and ran to put -the desk between herself and him. He had -snapped off the torch at the clang of the bell, -and now he was a pale ghost in the -gloom—fearsome. Hissing Indian curses, he started -to circle the desk to seize her. -</p> - -<p> -"Open this door! Open it, I say!" It was -the general's voice, sounding muffled through -the panels of his door; he rattled the knob -viciously. Jane tried to run to the door, but -the Indian seized her from behind, threw her -aside, and made for the double doors. There -his hand went to a panel in the wall, turned a -light switch, and the library was on the -instant drenched with light. Jaimihr Khan -threw before the door of the safe the bundle -of papers he was clutching when Jane -discovered him and which he had gripped during the -ensuing tense moments. Then he stepped -swiftly to the general's door and unlocked it. -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall, clad only in trousers and -shirt, burst into the room. His eyes leaped -from the Indian to where Jane was cowering -behind his desk. -</p> - -<p> -"What the devil is this?" he rasped. Jane -opened her mouth to answer, but the Indian -forestalled her: -</p> - -<p> -"The sahibah, General—I found her here before -your opened safe——" -</p> - -<p> -"Good God!" General Crandall's eyes blazed. -He leaped to the safe, knelt and peered in. "A -clever job, young woman!" -</p> - -<p> -Jane, completely stunned by the Indian's -swift strategy, could hardly speak. She held -up a hand, appealing for a hearing. General -Crandall eyed her with chilling scorn, then -turned to his servant. -</p> - -<p> -"You have done well, Jaimihr." -</p> - -<p> -"It—it isn't true!" Jane stammered. The -governor took a step toward her almost as if -under impulse to strike her, but he halted, and -his lips curled in scorn. -</p> - -<p> -"By gad, working with Woodhouse all the -time, eh? And I thought you a simple young -woman he had trapped—even warned you -against him not six hours ago. What a fool -I've been!" Jane impulsively stretched forth -her arms for the mercy of a hearing, but the -man went on implacably: -</p> - -<p> -"I said he was making a fool of you—and all -the time you were making one of me. Clever -young woman. I say, that must have been a -great joke for you—making a fool of the -governor of Gibraltar. You make me ashamed of -myself. And my servant—Jaimihr here; it is -left to him to trap you while I am blind. Bah! -Jaimihr, my orderly—at once!" The Indian -smiled sedately and started for the double doors. -Jane ran toward the general with a sharp cry: -</p> - -<p> -"General—let me explain——" -</p> - -<p> -"Explain!" He laughed shortly. "What can -you say? You come into my house as a friend—you -betray me—you break into my safe—with -Woodhouse, whom I'd warned you against, -directing your every move. Clever—clever! -Jaimihr, do as I tell you. My orderly at once!" -</p> - -<p> -Jane threw herself between the Indian and -the doors. -</p> - -<p> -"One moment—before he leaves the room let -me tell you he lies? Your Indian lies. It was -I who found him here—before that safe!" -</p> - -<p> -"A poor story," the general sniffed. "I -expected better of you—after this." -</p> - -<p> -"The truth, General Crandall. I couldn't -sleep. I came out here to the balcony to try to -make out if the <i>Saxonia</i> was in the bay. He -came into the room while I was behind these -curtains, locked the doors, and opened the safe." -</p> - -<p> -"It won't go," the general cut in curtly. -</p> - -<p> -"It's the truth—it's got to go!" she cried. -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr, at a second nod from his master, was -approaching the double doors. Jane, leaping in -front of them, pushed the Indian back. -</p> - -<p> -"General Crandall, for your own sake—don't -let this Indian leave the room. You may regret -it—all the rest of your life. He still has a -paper—a little paper—he took from that safe. I saw -him stick it in his sash." -</p> - -<p> -"Nonsense!" -</p> - -<p> -"Search him!" The girl's voice cracked in -hysteria; her face was dead white, with hectic -burning spots in each cheek. "I'm not pleading -for myself now—for you. Search him before -he leaves this room!" -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr put strong hands on her arms to -force her away from the door. His black eyes -were laughing down into hers. -</p> - -<p> -"Let me ask him a question first, General -Crandall—before he leaves this room." -</p> - -<p> -The governor's face reflected momentary -surprise at this change of tack. "Quickly -then," he gruffly conceded. Jaimihr Khan -stepped back a pace, his eyes meeting the girl's -coldly. -</p> - -<p> -"How did you come into the room—when you -found me here?" she challenged. The Indian -pointed to the double doors over her shoulder. -She reached behind her, grasped the knob, and -shook it. "Locked!" she announced. -</p> - -<p> -"Why not?" Jaimihr asked. "I locked them -after me." -</p> - -<p> -"And the general's door was locked?" -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes!" Crandall broke in impatiently. -"What's this got to do with——" -</p> - -<p> -"Did you lock the general's door?" she -questioned the Indian. -</p> - -<p> -"No, Sahibah; you did." -</p> - -<p> -"And I suppose I locked the door to Lady -Crandall's room and my door?" -</p> - -<p> -"If they, too, are locked—yes, Sahibah." -</p> - -<p> -"Then why"—Jane's voice quavered almost -to a shriek—"why had I failed to lock the -double doors—the doors through which you came?" -</p> - -<p> -The Indian caught his breath, and darted a -look at the general. The latter, eying him -keenly, stepped to his desk and pressed a button. -</p> - -<p> -"Very good; remain here, Jaimihr," he said. -Then to Jane: "I will have him searched, as -you wish. Then both of you go to the cells -until I sift this thing to the bottom." -</p> - -<p> -"General! You wouldn't dare!" She stood -aghast. -</p> - -<p> -"Wouldn't I, though? We'll see whether—" A -sharp click sent his head jerking around to -the right. Jaimihr Khan, at the door to the -general's room, was just slipping the key into -his girdle, after having turned the lock. His -thin face was crinkled like old sheepskin. -</p> - -<p> -"What the devil are you doing?" Crandall exploded. -</p> - -<p> -"If the general sahib is waiting for that bell -to be answered—he need not wait longer—it -will not be answered," Jaimihr Khan purred. -</p> - -<p> -"What's this—what's this!" -</p> - -<p> -"The wires are cut." -</p> - -<p> -"Cut! Who did that?" The general started -for the yellow man. Jaimihr Khan whipped a -blue-barreled revolver out of his broad sash and -leveled it at his master. -</p> - -<p> -"Back, General Sahib! I cut them. The -sahibah's story is true. It was she who came -in and found me at the safe." -</p> - -<p> -"My God! You, Jaimihr—you a spy!" The -general collapsed weakly into a chair by the -desk. -</p> - -<p> -"Some might call me that, my General." Jaimihr's -weapon was slowly swinging to cover -both the seated man and the girl by the doors. -"No need to search that drawer, General Sahib. -Your pistol is pointing at you this minute." -</p> - -<p> -"You'll pay for this!" Crandall gasped. -</p> - -<p> -"That may be. One thing I ask you to -remember. If one of you makes a move I will -kill you both. You are a gallant man, my -General; is it not so? Then remember." -</p> - -<p> -Crandall started from his chair, but the -uselessness of his bare hands against the -snub-nosed thing of blue metal covering him struck -home. He sank back with a groan. Keeping -them both carefully covered, Jaimihr moved to -the desk telephone at the general's elbow. He -took from his sash a small piece of paper—the -one he had saved from the packet of papers -taken from the safe—laid it on the edge of the -desk, and with his left hand he picked up the -telephone. An instant of tense silence, broken -by the wheezing of the general's breath, -then—— -</p> - -<p> -"Nine-two-six, if you please. Yes—yes, who -is this? Ah, yes. It is I, Jaimihr Khan. Is all -well with you? Good! And Bishop? Slain -coming down the Rock—good also!" -</p> - -<p> -Crandall groaned. The Indian continued his -conversation unperturbed. -</p> - -<p> -"Veree good! Listen closely. I can not come -as I have promised. There is—work—for me -here. But all will be well. Take down what I -shall tell you." He read from the slip of paper -on the desk. "Seven turns to the right, four to -the left—press! Two more to the left—press! -One to the right. You have that? Allah speed -you. Go quickly!" -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-314"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-314.jpg" alt="'There is--work--for me here.'" /> -<br /> -"There is—work—for me here." -</p> - -<p> -"Room D!" Crandall had leaped from his chair. -</p> - -<p> -"Correct, my General—Room D." Jaimihr -smiled as he stepped away from the telephone, -his back against the double doors. The sweat -stood white on Crandall's brow; his mouth -worked in jerky spasms. -</p> - -<p> -"What—what have you done?" he gasped. -</p> - -<p> -"I see the general knows too well," came the -Indian's silken response. "I have given the -combination of the inner door of Room D in the -signal tower to a—friend. He is on his way to -the tower. He will be admitted—one of the -few men on the Rock who could be admitted at -this hour, my General. One pull of the switches -in Room D—and where will England's great -fleet be then?" -</p> - -<p> -"You yellow devil!" Crandall started to rush -the white figure by the doors, but his flesh -quailed as the round cold muzzle met it. He -staggered back. -</p> - -<p> -"We are going to wait, my General—and you, -American Sahibah, who have pushed your way -into this affair. We are going to wait—and -listen—listen." -</p> - -<p> -The general writhed in agony. Jane, fallen -into a chair by the far edge of the desk, had -her head buried in her arms, and was sobbing. -</p> - -<p> -"And we are going to think, my General," -the Indian's voice purled on. "While we wait -we shall think. Who will General Crandall be -after to-night—the English sahib who ruled the -Rock the night the English fleet was blown to -hell from inside the fortress? How many -widows will curse when they hear his name? -What——" -</p> - -<p> -"Jaimihr Khan, what have I ever done to -you!" The governor's voice sounded hardly -human. His face was blotched and purple. -</p> - -<p> -"Not what you have done, my General—what -the English army has done. An old score, -General—thirty years old. My father—he was a -prince in India—until this English army took -away his throne to give it to a lying brother. -The army—the English army—murdered my -father when he tried to get it back—called it -mutiny. Ah, yes, an old score; but by the -breath of Allah, to-night shall see it paid!" -</p> - -<p> -The man's eyes were glittering points of -white-hot steel. All of his thin white teeth -showed like a hound's. -</p> - -<p> -"You dog!" The general feebly wagged his -head at the Indian. -</p> - -<p> -"Your dog, my General. Five years your dog, -when I might have been a prince. My friend -goes up the Rock—step—step—step. Closer—closer -to the tower, my General. And Major -Bishop—where is he? Ah, a knife is swift and -makes no noise——" -</p> - -<p> -"What a fool I've been!" Crandall rocked in -his chair, and passed a trembling hand before -his eyes. Sudden rage turned his bloodshot -eyes to where the girl was stretched, sobbing, -across the desk. "Your man—the man you -protected—it is he who goes to the signal tower, -girl!" -</p> - -<p> -"No—no; it can't be," she whispered between -the rackings of her throat. -</p> - -<p> -"It is! Only a member of the signal service -could gain admittance into the tower to-night. -Besides—who was it went with Bishop down the -Rock after the dinner to-night? And I—I sent -Bishop with him—sent him to his death. He -was tricking you all the time. I told you he -was. I warned you he was playing with -you—using you for his own rotten ends—using you -to help kill forty thousand men!" -</p> - -<p> -It needed not the sledge-hammer blows of the -stricken Crandall to batter Jane Gerson's heart. -She had read too clearly the full story Jaimihr -Khan's sketchy comments had outlined. She -knew now Captain Woodhouse, spy. The Indian -was talking again, his words dropping as -molten metal upon their raw souls. -</p> - -<p> -"Forty thousand men! A pleasant thought, -my General. Eight minutes up the Rock to the -tower when one moves fast. And my friend—ah, -he moves veree—veree fast. Eight minutes, -and four have already passed. Watch the -windows—the windows looking out to the bay, -General and Sahibah. They will flame—like -blood. Your hearts will stop at the great noise, -and then——" -</p> - -<p> -A knock sounded at the double doors behind -Jaimihr. He stopped short, startled. All -listened. Again came the knock. Without -turning his eyes from the two he guarded, Jaimihr -asked: "Who is it?" -</p> - -<p> -"Woodhouse," came the answer. -</p> - -<p> -Jane's heart stopped. Crandall sat frozen in -his seat. Jaimihr turned the key in the lock, -and the doors opened. In stepped Captain -Woodhouse, helmeted, armed with sword and -revolver at waist. He stood facing the trio, his -swift eye taking in the situation at once. Crandall -half rose from his seat, his face apoplectic. -</p> - -<p> -"Spy! Secret killer of men!" he gasped. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse paid no heed to him, but turned to -Jaimihr. -</p> - -<p> -"Quick! The combination," he said. "Over -the phone—afraid I might not have it -right—stopped here on my way to the tower—be there -in less than three minutes if you can hold these -people." -</p> - -<p> -"Everything is all right?" Jaimihr asked suspiciously. -</p> - -<p> -"You mean Bishop? Yes. Quick, the combination!" -</p> - -<p> -Jaimihr picked the slip of paper containing -the formula from the edge of the desk with his -disengaged left hand and passed it to Woodhouse. -</p> - -<p> -The latter stretched out his hand, grasped the -Indian's with a lightning move, and threw it -over so that the latter was off his balance. In -a twinkling Woodhouse's left hand had -wrenched the revolver from Jaimihr's right and -pinioned it behind his back. The whole -movement was accomplished in half a breath. -Jaimihr Khan knelt in agony, and in peril of a -broken wrist, at the white man's feet, disarmed, -harmless. Woodhouse put a silver whistle to -his lips and blew three short blasts. -</p> - -<p> -A tramp of feet in the hallway outside, and -four soldiers with guns filled the doorway. -</p> - -<p> -"Take this man!" Woodhouse commanded. -</p> - -<p> -The Indian, in a frenzy, writhed and shrieked: -</p> - -<p> -"Traitor! English spy! Dog of an unbeliever!" -</p> - -<p> -The soldiers jerked him to his feet and -dragged him out; his ravings died away in the -passage. -</p> - -<p> -Woodhouse brought his hand up in a salute -as he faced General Crandall. -</p> - -<p> -"The other spy, Almer, of the Hotel Splendide, -has just been arrested, sir. Major Bishop -has taken charge of him and has lodged him in -the cells." -</p> - -<p> -A high-pitched scream sounded behind Lady -Crandall's door, and a pounding on the panels. -Jane Gerson, first to recover from the shock of -surprise, ran to unlock the door. Lady Crandall, -in a dressing gown, burst into the library -and flung herself on her husband. -</p> - -<p> -"George—George! What does all this -mean—yells—whistling——" -</p> - -<p> -General Crandall gave his wife a pat on the -shoulder and put her aside with a mechanical -gesture. He took a step toward Woodhouse, -who still stood stiffly before the opened doors; -the dazed governor walked like a somnambulist. -</p> - -<p> -"Who—who the devil are you, sir?" he managed -to splutter. -</p> - -<p> -"I am Captain Cavendish, General." Again -the hand came to stiff salute on the visor of the -pith helmet. "Captain Cavendish, of the signal -service, stationed at Khartum, but lately detached -for special service under the intelligence -office in Downing Street." -</p> - -<p> -The man's eyes jumped for an instant to seek -Jane Gerson's face—found a smile breaking -through the lines of doubt there. -</p> - -<p> -"Your papers to prove your identity!" Crandall -demanded, still in a fog of bewilderment. -</p> - -<p> -"I haven't any, General Crandall," the other -replied, with a faint smile, "or your Indian, -Jaimihr Khan, would have placed them in your -hands after the search of my room yesterday. -I've convinced Major Bishop of my genuineness, -however—after we left your house and when -the moment for action arrived. A cable to Sir -Ludlow-Service, in the Downing Street office, -will confirm my story. Meanwhile I am willing -to go under arrest if you think best." -</p> - -<p> -"But—but I don't understand, Captain—er—Cavendish. -You posed as a German—as an -Englishman." -</p> - -<p> -"Briefly, General, a girl secretly in the pay of -the Downing Street office—Louisa Schmidt,—Josepha, -the cigar girl, whom you ordered -locked up a few hours ago—is the English -representative in the Wilhelmstrasse at Berlin. -She learned of a plan to get a German spy -in your signal tower a month before war was -declared, reported it to London, and I was -summoned from Khartum to London to play -the part of the German spy. At Berlin, where -she had gone from your own town of Gibraltar -to meet me, she arranged to procure me a -number in the Wilhelmstrasse through the -agency of a dupe named Capper——" -</p> - -<p> -"Capper! Good Lord!" Crandall stammered. -</p> - -<p> -"With the number I hurried to Alexandria. -Woodhouse—Captain Woodhouse, from Wady -Halfa—a victim, poor chap, to the necessities of -our plan, fell into the hands of the Wilhelmstrasse -men there, and I gained possession of -his papers. The Germans started him in a -robber caravan of Bedouins for the desert, but I -provided against his getting far before being -rescued, and the German agents there were all -rounded up the day I sailed as Woodhouse." -</p> - -<p> -"And you came here to save Gibraltar—and -the fleet from German spies?" Crandall put -the question dazedly. -</p> - -<p> -"There were only two, General—Almer and -your servant, Jaimihr. We have them now. -You may order the release of Louisa Schmidt." -</p> - -<p> -"The captain has overlooked one other—the -most dangerous one of all, General Crandall." Jane -stepped up to where the governor stood -and threw back her hands with an air of -submission. "Her name is Jane Gerson, of New -York, and she knew all along that this -gentleman was deceiving you—she had met him, in -fact, three weeks before on a railroad train in -France." -</p> - -<p> -The startled eyes of Gibraltar's master -looked first at the set features of the man, then -to the girl's flushed face. Little lines of humor -crinkled about the corners of his mouth. -</p> - -<p> -"Captain Cavendish—or Woodhouse, make -this girl a prisoner—your prisoner, sir!" -</p> - -<p class="capcenter"> -<a id="img-324"></a> -<img class="imgcenter" src="images/img-324.jpg" alt="'Your prisoner, sir.'" /> -<br /> -"Your prisoner, sir." -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /></p> - -<p><a id="chap19"></a></p> - -<h3> -CHAPTER XIX -<br /> -AT THE QUAY -</h3> - -<p> -Five o'clock at the quay, and already the -new day was being made raucous by the -bustle of departure—shouts of porters, tenders' -jangling engine bells, thump of trunks dropped -down skidways, lamentations of voyagers vainly -hunting baggage mislaid. Out in the stream -the <i>Saxonia</i>—a clean white ship, veritable ark -of refuge for pious Americans escaping the -deluge. -</p> - -<p> -In the midst of a group of his countrymen -Henry J. Sherman stood, feet wide apart and -straw hat cocked back over his bald spot. He -was narrating the breathless incidents of the -night's dark hour: -</p> - -<p> -"Yes, sir, a soldier comes to our rooms about -three-thirty o'clock and hammers on our door. -'Everybody in this hotel's under arrest,' he -says. 'Kindly dress as soon as possible and -report to Major Bishop in the office.' And we -not five hours before the guests of General and -Lady Crandall at Government House. What -d'you think of that for a quick change? -</p> - -<p> -"Well, gentlemen, we piled down-stairs—with -me minus a collar button and havin' to hold -my collar down behind with my hand. And -what do we find? This chap Almer, with a -face like a side of cream cheese, standing in the -middle of a bunch of soldiers with guns; -another bunch of soldiers surroundin' his Arab -boy, who's as innocent a little fellah as ever you -set eyes on; and this Major Bishop walkin' up -and down, all excited, and sayin' something -about somebody's got a scheme to blow up the -whole fleet out there. Which might have been -done, he says, if it wasn't for that fellah -Woodhouse we'd had dinner with just that very -evening." -</p> - -<p> -"Who's some sort of a spy. I knew it all -the time, you see." Mrs. Sherman was quick -to claim her share of her fellow tourists' -attention. "Only he's a British spy set to watch -the Germans. Major Bishop told me that in -confidence after it was all over—said he'd never -met a man with the nerve this Captain -Woodhouse has." -</p> - -<p> -"Better whisper that word 'spy' soft," -Henry J. admonished sotto voce. "We're -not out of this plagued Europe yet, and -we've had about all the excitement we can -stand; don't want anybody to arrest us again -just the minute we're sailin'. But, as I was -sayin', there we all stood, foolish as goats, -until in comes General Crandall, followed by -this Woodhouse chap. 'Excuse me, people, for -causing you this little inconvenience,' the -general says. 'Major Bishop has taken his orders -too literal. If you'll go back to your rooms and -finish dressin' I'll have the army bus down -here to take you to the quay. The Hotel -Splendide's accommodations have been slightly -disarranged by the arrest of its worthy -proprietor.' So back we go, and—by cricky, -mother, here comes the general and Mrs. Crandall now!" -</p> - -<p> -Henry J. broke through the ring of passengers, -and with a waving of his hat, rushed to -the curb. A limousine bearing the governor, -his lady and Jane Gerson, and with two bulky -hampers strapped to the baggage rack behind, -was just drawing up. -</p> - -<p> -"Why, of course we're down here to see you -off—and bid you Godspeed to little old -Kewanee!" Lady Crandall was quick to anticipate -the Shermans' greetings. General Crandall, -beaming indulgently on the group of -homegoers, had a hand for each. -</p> - -<p> -"Yes—yes," he exclaimed. "After arresting -you at three o'clock we're here to give you a -clean ticket at five. Couldn't do more than -that—what? Regrettable occurrence and all that, -but give you something to tell the stay-at-homes -about when you get back to—ah——" -</p> - -<p> -"Kewanee, Illynoy, General," Sherman was -quick to supply. "No town like it this side the -pearly gates." -</p> - -<p> -"No doubt of it, Sherman," Crandall heartily -agreed. "A quiet place, I'll wager. Think I'd -relish a touch of your Kewanee after—ah—life -on Gibraltar." -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson, who had been standing in the -car, anxiously scanning the milling crowd about -the landing stage, caught sight of a white -helmet and khaki-clad shoulders pushing through -the nearer fringes of travelers. She slipped -out of the limousine unseen, and waited for the -white helmet to be doffed before her. -</p> - -<p> -"I was afraid maybe——" the girl began, -her cheeks suddenly flaming. -</p> - -<p> -"Afraid that, after all, it wasn't true?" the -man she had found in war's vortex finished, -his gray eyes compelling hers to tell him their -whole message. "Afraid that Captain Cavendish -might be as vile a deceiver as Woodhouse? -Does Cavendish have to prove himself all over -again, little girl?" -</p> - -<p> -"No—no!" Her hands fluttered into his, and -her lips were parted in a smile. "It's Captain -Woodhouse I want to know—always; the man -whose pledged word I held to." -</p> - -<p> -"It must have been—hard," he murmured. -"But you were splendid—splendid!" -</p> - -<p> -"No, I was not." Tears came to dim her -eyes, and the hands he held trembled. -"Once—in one terrible moment this morning—when -Jaimihr told us you were going to the signal -tower—when we waited—waited to hear that -awful noise, my faith failed me. I thought -you——" -</p> - -<p> -"Forget that moment, Jane, dearest. A saint -would have denied faith then." -</p> - -<p> -They were silent for a minute, their hearts -quailing before the imminent separation. He -spoke: -</p> - -<p> -"Go back to the States now; go back and -show this Hildebrand person you're a wonder—a -prize. Show him what I've known more -and more surely every moment since that meeting -in Calais. But give him fair warning; he's -going to lose you." -</p> - -<p> -"Lose me?" she echoed. -</p> - -<p> -"Inevitably. Listen, girl! In a year my -term of service is up, and if the war's over I -shall leave the army, come to the States to you, -and—and—do you think I could become a good -American?" -</p> - -<p> -"If—if you have the proper teacher," the -girl answered, with a flash of mischief. -</p> - -<p> -"All aboard for the <i>Saxonia</i>!" It was Consul -Reynolds, fussed, perspiring, overwhelmed -with the sense of his duty, who bustled up to -where the Shermans were chatting with Lady -Crandall and the general. Reynolds' sharp eye -caught an intimate tableau on the other side -of the auto. "And that means you, Miss -Step-lively New York," he shouted, "much as I hate -to—ah—interrupt." -</p> - -<p> -Jane Gerson saw her two precious hampers -stemming a way through the crowd on the -backs of porters, bound for the tender's deck. -She could not let them out of her sight. -</p> - -<p> -"Wait, Jane!" His hands were on her arms, -and he would not let her go. "Will you be my -teacher? I want no other." -</p> - -<p> -"My terms are high." She tried to smile, -though trembling lips belied her. -</p> - -<p> -"I'd pay with my life," he whispered in a -quick gust of passion. "Here's my promise——" -</p> - -<p> -He took her in his arms, and between them -passed the world-old pledge of man and girl. -</p> - -<p><br /><br /></p> - -<p class="t3"> -THE END -</p> - -<p><br /><br /><br /><br /></p> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Inside the Lines, by -Earl Derr Biggers and Robert Welles Ritchie - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK INSIDE THE LINES *** - -***** This file should be named 56036-h.htm or 56036-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/6/0/3/56036/ - -Produced by Al Haines -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law 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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